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communicationthroughlyrics · 1 year

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So Fucked Up, From the Way That You Touch - Part 1

A party at the beach with your friends, to blow off some steam after a rough break up. Well, that turned into something else.

This will be a little two parter- I am working through some writer block on my chaptered pic, and was dabbling with this. It got a little long, so I am breaking it into two parts. Let me know whatcha think- the second part of this is the smutty part ;] I hope y'all enjoy!

No warnings yet ;]

The sun was beating in through the windshield of your blacked-out truck, proving that it was no match for the tint you had on all the windows to keep prying eyes out of the happenings of your vehicle. You weren’t someone who participated in nefarious or delinquent activities you were the opposite- you liked your privacy. You had always been regarded as the quiet, observant, and reserved one of your friends. You coincidentally made friends with plenty of people who were the exact opposite of you- boisterous, life-of-the-party types. Often, you were the “ol’ reliable” of the group, always there for anyone who needed the ride home after a long night of drinking, or when someone was being cross in their direction.

You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts, before grabbing the backpack in the passenger seat that contained your beach towel, sunscreen, and other necessities for an evening at the beach. You had been dreading today, trying to think of an excuse or a convenient white lie to allow you an escape, particularly with the nasty breakup you had just gone through. But your friends, they wouldn’t have it. The sun was on its last few hours before it descended below the horizon, and then there would be a huge bonfire, and the party would continue well into the night. You had been to enough of these parties to know they went until the wee hours of the morning. As you gathered the necessary items that you had been obliged to bring, the cooler with your spirit of choice, and some snacks for sharing, your best friend came running up to you, wrapping you into a tight hug from behind.

“Y/N/N! You didn’t flake on us!” She laughed, pulling away and punching you in the arm. You turned in her direction with your eyebrow raised, your pointed brow just making an appearance over your dark sunglasses. She looked you over, shaking her head at your choice of attire. “Y/N, what in God’s green earth are you wearing? Are you going to a funeral or something after this? It’s a beach party. Not work. Relax. ” You looked down at the dark blue jeans, black vans, and black hoodie that adorned your body. Frankly, you were so used to hiding your tattoos for work- being an officer didn’t allow for the expression of body art- so you weren’t fazed by your choices. It was just second nature. The only tattoos that were currently exposed were the ones along your slender fingers and on the backs of your hands, and the ones that you allowed to sneak up the side of your neck. Typically, you wore a turtle neck for work, along with gloves. You lifted the black baseball hat off your head, running your hands through your undercut black hair, before replacing it on your head.

“Sorry, I was under the impression I couldn’t wear white after Labor Day,” you smirk, and turn back to grab the remainder of your belongings. “I do wear things underneath, Mar. It’s the middle of October, beaches get cold at night.”

“Duh! That’s what the fire is for!” The shorter blonde rolled her eyes and was already slightly tipsy, your 15-year friendship allowing you to know the woman inside and out. Marliana had known you since transferring to your San Diego middle school for the tail end of 8th grade, and then you both ended up going to the same high school and college, just for different majors. You had instantly taken a liking to her, with an affliction for blondes with accents and blue or green eyes, but became best friends, as she didn’t play for your team. You grabbed the heavy bags as she grabbed the light bag, and walked around the house, down the boardwalk to the beach below. As you descended from the street to the shore, your eyes began to scan the group of people for familiar faces. There were plenty of people here you had met before, and some new people as well.

You approached a group of people already huddled around a smaller fire, knowing one of them would be your popsicle of a best friend Kennedy, who could literally live in Death Valley and still find a way to be freezing. You approached her, and as predicted, she was bundled in a few layers, her brown hair curled, and a hoodie and two jackets cloaking her rather small frame. You threw your cooler in between yours and her chair, plopping yourself down next to her.

“Hey, Kenz.” You smile in her direction, and she turns to you, throwing her arms around your shoulders in a brief hug. “How are you, my little Eskimo?” You laugh as she pulls away, bopping her nose with your finger before reaching between the chairs to grab a drink out of the cooler. She groaned at the nickname, before turning her gaze fully to yours.

“Don’t make fun of me! You know I hate that nickname,” she pouts, and you cackle. You both had been friends since kindergarten, going through every single grade together. Your paths separated in college, but after that was over, your search for a barber who could keep up with your ever-changing styles was found- in your best childhood friend. Mar and Kenz didn’t necessarily get along at first, but now you think they may be closer than you. “I should be asking you how you’re doing. I'm glad you left the bitch, let’s be honest- but I know it’s been rough for you.” She asked, already knowing part of the answer to her question.

She made no effort to hide her strong dislike of your most recent ex. Your ex didn’t like how close you were to some of your friends, particularly Kennedy, since you had known her for so long, your relationship was blunt, to say the least, and very hands-on. Many nights out you would act as a couple to stave off an awkward conversation with a stranger, with her rubbing your chest, or making suggestive comments in your ear, even having kissed her on multiple occasions. But you never saw her as a partner, just a very strong platonic relationship. She was also a very expressive person and preferred touch to communicate. You took it as part of the territory, but your ex-girlfriend did not like it, and no matter how much you tried to cut back from Kennedy, it was never enough.

“It’s been ok, honestly. Just some rediscovery and I feel like a 140-pound weight has been cut off my ankle.” You shrug and laugh, you had known the relationship was going nowhere, but the last few months had been hell. You finally ended it, which caused the woman to lose her absolute mind. But after two years of her nitpicking and pulling apart every relationship you had, it was time for it to end. Kennedy smiled, knowing that you were putting up a wall regarding your last relationship.

“I’m just glad it’s over, Y/N/N. I need my cuddle buddy for movie night back!” You rolled your eyes at her response, and she slapped your shoulder. “Jerk.” She muttered, making you laugh into your drink.

“I love you too, Kenz.” You give her a slight hug and then stand up to go mull around in the groups and catch up with some of your other friends.

After you had made your way through three or four groups, and then got roped into a volleyball game, it had finally got warm enough that you came back to your chair, ready to strip off your hoodie. Instead, you found an unfamiliar person in it talking to Kennedy with a rapt interest. It didn’t strike you as super odd, Kenz was the more sociable of the two of you, but she was talking to this woman like she knew her. But, after all, this was a huge beach party, so not out of the ordinary.

“Y/N!” Kennedy called out as you approached. “I wanted to introduce you to someone, this is another client of mine, I’ve been cutting her hair for… how long now?” She looked back to the blonde, trying to think of a timeline. A noticeably raspy voice answered, coming from the woman in your chair, almost sending you to your knees alone from how it affected you.

“7 years, I think.” Was the response.

“Fuck, has it been that long?” Kennedy stared in disbelief.

“Yeah, I think so. It was right out of school for you, you got a job at my old stylist’s salon. He was sick for some time, and had you cut my hair instead.”

“Well, there you go, Y/N. I’ve known Scar here for 7 years. Y/N, this is Scarlett, Scarlett, this is my better half bestie, Y/N.” She gestured in between you both, Scarlett turned in the chair, removing her sunglasses to reveal the green irises beneath, surrounded in a smoky grey eyeshadow. Her smile was stunning, and you almost needed to slap yourself to keep from staring. You gave her a quick once over, taking in her tanned figure, ripped denim shorts, and a baggy hoodie. Her hand reached out to you, and you smoothly grasped it, shaking it gently. She turned your hand over, gazing at the tattoos on your hand, eyebrow-raising above her glasses.

“Y/N, I have heard a ton about you. It’s great to finally put a face to the name.” She smiled, and it took a second for your brain to quit short-circuiting at the confidence and beauty this woman was exuding.

“Scarlett, nice to meet you. All good things, I’m hoping. This one tends to over exaggerate.” You motion to Kennedy, who promptly made a face at your remark. “I was just going to leave my hoodie here, I was getting a little bit toasty over there.” You motioned back to the volleyball game.

“Oh! My apologies, was this your seat?” Scarlett was quick to rise, but you placed your hand on her shoulder, trying to ignore the electricity you felt when you touched the older woman.

“It’s okay, I was going to go back over and play some more. I didn’t hit the gym today, so I need my workout.” You laugh, and the blonde sits back down. “Besides, someone needs to keep this one from stealing my stuff.” You send a pointed gaze to your best friend, who sticks her tongue out at you. Scarlett laughed at the exchange before her gaze shifted back to you.

“I’ll keep an eye on your stuff for you, Y/N.” She motioned for you to take off your hoodie. You quickly pulled it over your head, and it pulled your tee shirt up with it, briefly displaying a very tattooed frame. You quickly pulled the tee shirt back down, pretending not to notice the blonde now returning the once over, and a slight lip bite when your abdomen was exposed. Kennedy noticed the exchange and smirked. She planned to get you hooked up with someone, but she didn’t intend for it to be this someone. You folded the hoodie, putting it on top of the cooler between the chairs, and briefly hugging Kennedy from behind.

“Thanks for watching out, Scarlett. Be careful though, this one is tricky.” You smile, pulling down your glasses slightly, allowing for eye contact to be made, and then turning and running away, effortlessly interjecting yourself back into the game. However, there was a pair of viridescent eyes that were keeping an eye on you at every opportunity they could.

After a few more rounds of volleyball, the majority of players had grown tired and opted to separate and find other forms of entertainment. You were milling around, talking to a few more friends before the chill of the slaty air started to get to you. You stalked back to your spot, noticing Scarlett and Kennedy were both gone. You grabbed your hoodie, sliding it back over your frame, as well as a drink from the cooler. You chose to walk away from the party for a little bit, as the sun was beginning to set. You weren’t necessarily an introvert, but large outings like this were hard on you, and you often needed to take a break or two to maintain your sanity. You knew of a cliff you could relax by, as Marliana often took you there when you both were walking her dog on a movie night. It wasn’t too terribly far from the party, but the sounds of music and conversation had died a few hundred feet back. You made yourself comfortable on a flat rocky outcrop, hanging your feet off the small drop to the foamy water below. Watching the sun dip below the water on the horizon, you lift your glasses and rest them on top of your head, taking a swig of your drink.

You weren’t sure how long you were away from the party at this point, but a voice from behind you almost caused you to throw your now empty can into the air.

“Pretty long way from the party, Y/N.” You turned to see the blonde smiling from the sand. “What brings you over here?”

You motioned for her to come join you, scooting over on the rock enough for there to be room for her to sit.

“Just needed to clear my head. Parties like that tend to be a lot for me. Kenz is usually the more sociable one of the group.” You look down at your hands, folding and unfolding them in your lap.

“Ah. Social battery maintenance.”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You lean back, placing your hands behind you and looking up at the woman, who is staring straight out at the horizon. Her strong jawline was shadowed by the remnants of what sunlight there was. You could honestly stare for days at the way the lighting affected this woman’s appearance.

“I can feel you staring, Y/N.” She smirked, giving you a side-eye.

“Oh…uhh…sorry,” you respond, becoming flustered at being caught. “I would imagine people probably do that a lot to you.”

“Don’t be sorry, Y/N. But yes, they do.” She smiled, turning her focus fully to you. You both continued to talk until a chill began to take over the air. You noticed that she was beginning to shiver, so you quickly removed your hoodie and handed it over to her, a slight smile on your lips. “Oh, Y/N, it’s okay, really. I'm fine.”

“Scarlett, you're shivering. I’m more like a space heater. Really, just put it on.” She grabbed the sweater, pulling it over her smaller frame. She looked over at you, taking in the multitudes of ink adorning your muscular arms. “Now you’re the one staring.” You stood across from her, a smirk adorning your features.

“Sorry,” she looked down, before reaching out to grab your hand. ”I’m still cold, Y/N.”

“Oh? Well, I don’t really have any more layers to share, Scarlett.”

“Well, if you’re so much like a space heater, maybe you should warm me up?” You laughed at her response. Dropping her hand, you close the gap between the both of you, enveloping her frame with your larger one. She snuggled into your chest curling her arms in between your chest and hers.

“Better?” You chuckle, leaning back to look at her.

“Mmhmm. You are like a space heater.” You feel her relax further into you, and you wrap tighter around her. You feel her shifting in your hold, and you shift your gaze down to her. “You’re a very attractive space heater.”

“Oh, am I now?” Chuckling at her response, and resting your chin on top of her head. The scent of her perfume and shampoo wafted through your senses.

“Yeah, I’ve been keeping my eye on you all night. Kennedy was right about you.”

(PT 2)

#communicatethrulyrics #wlw fanfic #lesbian nsft #scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett johansson x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natalia romanova #scarlett johansson

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

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Change of Heart

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A simp like Y/N is known to frequently 'fall' for people left and right, her most current crushes being the content creators Dream and Sykkuno. But she's in for a surprise when she meets their mutual friend.

Requested by @im-honeybee Hi darling! Thank you so much for your request! I'm so sorry for the long with but I hope the fic makes up for it and fulfills your expectations. Enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

"Leslie, this is a horrible idea! What the hell am I gonna say to them?! I have no topics prepared and I definitely can't just gush and drool over them for three hours straight." Y/N all but yells into the phone which is currently connecting her to her best friend who also happens to be a popular streamer - Fuslie. She's been ruthless on trying to get her friend to develop the courage to meet her idols but Y/N's refused every single time. To be fair, calling them 'idols' isn't exactly correct considering she doesn't have idols. What she does have is a herd of people she simps for shamelessly. Herd might seem like an over-exaggeration to some but it's a spot-on term to describe her situation. There's always a top tier of said herd which usually consists of three people. As of recent, however, there have only been two, both popular streamers by the names of Dream and Sykkuno.

"Why on Earth would you have to exercise topics in advance? You won't be delving into philosophy and nuclear physics with them! Just be friendly and be yourself." Leslie comforts her, not looking forward to having to deal with her friend's panicking ass until the stream starts. She now regrets managing to talk the girl into this when she was slightly tipsy last night - plus it might be breaking some law but whatever.

"Which one, I can't be both!" Y/N exclaims, running a hand through her hair as she paces through the living room, much to the confusion of her puppy who's following her movements with his gaze from his spot on the couch.

"Figure it out! Flip a coin! I don't know! I gotta go now, I have things to do. Kiss Lux for me. Love ya, bye!" Leslie replies, all in one breath, before hanging up the call, rendering her friend unable to complain further and keep her on the phone any longer. She maybe doesn't have things to do as she said, but she really doesn't want to remain in that awkward position.

"Wait! Hey!....Hello?" Realizing the line's gone dead Y/N pulls the phone away from her ear, "Screw you, Leslie!"

Her shriek of frustration scares poor Lux, catching his owner's attention and filling her with a tinge of guilt.

"Oh, I'm sorry baby. You'd be mad too if your friend did that to you." She says with a sigh, sitting back down and allows the small puppy to climb onto her lap. "What would you do if you had to meet two hugely popular streamers in less than an hour?" She actually pauses as if expecting an answer from the puppy who's only grown more confused and is looking at her with a concerned gaze, "Fuck, I'm asking a fucking animal how I should handle a situation a person half my age would be able to figure out easier." She huffs and stands up, whisking Lux up as she does so.

In her defense, she doesn't go on the internet actively looking for attractive content creators. It's literally destiny that she comes across them. Truth be told, it may be because she knows she'll never get around to dating them which probably sounds weird but allow me to explain.

If she never dates them, they can never hurt her.

She's had her fair share of damn-that-was-a-mistake type of relationships and she finds comfort in the fact that the majority of these people she'll probably never even meet. Well, in about forty minutes Dream and Sykkuno will be the two exceptions to that rule but the point still stands - no dating, no hurt, no money spent on post-breakup ice-cream.

Ok, she buys ice-cream anyway but I digress.

Y/N walks into her office where she spends a lot of time hunched over a tablet and/or a notepad she calls 'Ideatopia' due to how many designs have been jotted down in it with a very few of them making it in front of the eyes of the person or people who requested it be made. She keeps herself busy enough to not accidentally meet anyone decent in her day-to-day life but allows herself free time to browse the web for clearance of her mind.

In short, she's not a romantic but only when the romance is real and she's a workaholic only when she doesn't hang out and watch Minecraft streams.

Y/N sets Lux down on the soft fuzzy carpet where he immediately rolls over and enjoys its comfort. She boots up her PC, moving the tablet out of the way as to position the computer screen in the center of the desk. Plugging in her headset she can't help but sigh, fighting the instinct that's psyching her out.

Fucking hell, Y/N, they're just people. You don't take anyone you meet IRL this seriously. Although that may be cause they don't have millions of followers but that's besides the point.

Or maybe that's the whole point. She doesn't want to think of herself as a shallow person because she's not one, but it's almost second nature to feel a lot more nervous in the presence of someone who can be considered famous.

She sits down in her comfortable desk chair, curtesy of Leslie herself who knows how hard her friend works and knew the perfect gift to buy her for Christmas. She spins in it once, and then again, and then once more, giggling at her childish behavior. Hearing Lux bark, she pauses to let him jump into her lap again so they can both spin on the chair, surrounding them with a careless aura she hopes will carry over into the stream and won't let her lose her cool.

"Here goes nothing." She tells the puppy but is speaking more to herself, if she's being honest.

Lux is too comfortable to be bothered to find himself a new place to sleep so Y/N doesn't even try to ditch him, hoping his presence will have a calming effect on her.

She equips her headset, pushing its microphone down so it's about two inches away from her lips. She opens Discord and joins the VC Leslie told her to hop in earlier during the phone call. Y/N's hands have gone cold with anticipation and nervousness but regardless she proceeds to follow through with it.

"Hello?" She greets the already present players shyly, her voice barely heard which was actually her intention. The quieter she sounds the more invisible she'll feel, right?

"Hi!! Guys, this is my friend Y/N, the one I was telling you about." Leslie hurries to introduce the girl, giving her a momentary sense of relief cause she didn't mention anything else. That relief didn't last for long though...."And Dream, Sykkuno, she thinks you two are pretty damn cool."

Fuck you, Leslie.

The poor girl's face turns bright red at the statement. She hurries to hide it in her hands, hoping they'll cool down her burning cheeks, the embarrassment having turned them into stove burners.

"That's really nice of her. Thank you, Y/N." Sykkuno replies, ever the kind soul he is.

"Yeah, it's super flattering!" Dream agrees, "Now you're obligated to have my number and give me yours."

This actually manages to get a laugh out of her, the lightheartedness helping with her overdose of shame.

"I'm sure she wouldn't mind that." She can practically imagine Leslie winking as she says that which only irritates her more but she's never really been able to stay mad at her best friend so she knows she won't be able to make it last.

"Oh so no love for the rest of us? Wooowww." Childishly complains a voice she's not familiar with. One that catches Y/N completely off-guard with how deep it is. Had she been any cheesier she would've though it was mesmerizing to hear. Never mind, she is that cheesy.

"Holy shit, who's that?!" She asks with an exaggerated theatrical gasp that is halfway her real reaction to what she's just heard.

"That's Corpse Husband, the horror storyteller turned pro impostor in Among Us." Her best friend dramatically introduces the man who's left Y/N in a state of complete whiplash.

"Tis I. Waddup baby?" He wastes no time using his weaponized voice and charm on her as if he's not astonished her enough already. Corpse secretly enjoys putting new-comers in a state of disbalance like this but he'd never admit it.

"Um...hi! Wassup? Nice voice." One would this Y/N is actively trying to show how flustered she is but believe it or not this is her while trying to conceal it. Imagine if she wasn't.

"Thanks." He wheezes in amusement, "I like yours too."

"Great," his correspondent says with a newfound mirage of confidence, "Now you're obligated to have my number and give me yours."

This is more than enough to get the whole VC roaring up in laughter.

"Fucking hell, Corpse! You can't just sweep in and steal our girl like that!" Dream complains halfheartedly as he continues chuckling.

"Get yourself a voice changer and you'll be able to pick up girls as well." The accused teases his fellow faceless streamer.

"That's not fair!" The blond whines.

"Y/N, you've been here less than five minutes and have already left two guys hanging. Damn!" Rae - who Y/N has met before and grown to be friends with - laughs, enjoying the show her friends have put on.

"What can I say." The girl chuckles, her face now deep red but she still manages to pull off that hair flip like a pro as she plays off her confidence, "I simply had a change of heart."

"Worked out well for me." Snickers the bachelor who's ended up receiving the final rose. To think Corpse wanted to cancel on his friends and not show up for the stream, oh all the things he'd missed.

He's lucky he had a change of heart.

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what-the-stories-have-foretold · 3 years

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Good afternoon, I am here recently. May I ask for comfort Dazai, Fukuchi x gn reader (separately). Where Dazai and Fukuchi are slightly drunk and they find out that the reader is afraid of drunk people it is very uncomfortable with them. I hope it suits you and doesn't sound harsh, it's just that English is not my native language and I'm just learning it. Thank you very much (:

I'd love to! I'm happy to have you here ☺ (also: your English is really good, don't worry!) Lots of Love 💕

My Navigation is here.

Warnings: mention of alcohol, drunk/tipsy characters, slightly angsty? Comfort

Baby does that sometimes

Drinks the night away to forget

He has a lot of control over himself, so it's never a "stagger home" type of drunk

But it can be noticable

So the first (and only) time he came home

Obviously drunk

He notices, maybe not immediately, but pretty quickly, that you are keeping your distance

You show all of the signs of nervousness he has memorised

He tries his best to completely regain composure the moment he notices

Slowly and carefully moving towards you to comfort you

Giving you a hug, if you allow him to

However, he won't do much more

He'll get you to bed, get himself some water to sober up and wait until the next day to talk about it, to whatever extend you feel comfortable to

He doesn't even get tipsy around you anymore

The fact that he made you uncomfortable actually makes him want to get another bourbon, but now that he knows that it makes you uncomfortable...

Stays awake the entire night, worried and sad that he made you feel anything other than safe 🥺

He very rarely gets tipsy

He does drink though

Maybe during meetings, galas or at home

But usually just one glass

Imagine your surprise when he actually comes home tipsy

I think he'll take a little bit longer to notice, even though he is a bit more sober than Dazai

Dazai is just very perceptive, even when drunk, he needs to be

However, when he puts his arms around you, being a bit louder than usual, he feels you tense

Fukuchi has a bit more freedom in that regard

He can allow himself to be at least a little bit careless every once in a while (before the current arc that is)

He is a bit confused, but realises quickly enough that you are uncomfortable

Let's you take the lead, giving you space, however, making sure that you are fine

Also wants to talk about it the next day

Tries not to let this happen again either

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #fukuchi x reader #fukuchi bsd #dazai bsd #what-the-stories-have-foretold #x gn!reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd

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jungkookah-lover · 3 years

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A Bottle of Wine with Jungkook

⟶ pairing: Jungkook x Reader

⟶ genre: Acquaintances to lovers + smut

⟶ words: 6411

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: Jungkook decides to have a bottle of wine in his hotel room after a concert on tour (like he did on his vlive) but this time has you to keep him company. Once the wine is finished, conversation takes an interesting turn.

⟶ warnings: fluff, smut, JK is a bit of a Dom but two can play that game, JK likes to hear what you want and then give it to you

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The bottle was empty much faster than anticipated. You were having such a good time, neither of you realized it was gone until he tipped the bottle to refill your glass and only a few drops came out. He groaned in frustration at the two measly drops as they slowly ran down the side.

“Dang, we are out of wine. I didn’t realize we would go through it so fast or I would have bought more.” Jungkook says with an embarrassed tone to his voice. He drank half the bottle, just like you, and you could tell from the pink of his ears and face that he could feel it. He sticks his lip out making a sad face and you can't take your eyes off his pout. It was not the first time you had taken your time to appreciate his lips. Whether he was smiling, laughing, or focused, his mouth was eye-catching and caused you to think about what he might be able to do with it other than smile and pout. You quickly realize you are staring and shake your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts.

“It is okay, Jungkook. It is probably for the best. I think you are tipsy and I am pretty sure I am too. If I drink anymore I cannot promise I will be able to control myself.” You say in an attempt to make him feel better and tell him that you didn’t want to do something stupid.

His eyes that were fixed on the empty glass quickly jump to your face as he says, “What would you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said you wouldn’t be able to control yourself. What would you do?”

There is a glimmer in his eye that was not there before. He had been playful all night, joking and dancing on the edge of flirting, yet he had not looked at you like this. Suddenly you realize your error. Even though you meant it to sound innocent, all you could think about was whether his mouth would taste like wine and if it would be better on your tongue than what you just drank. You’ve been sitting slightly away from him all night in an attempt to not let your hands wander to his obviously muscular arms. He would never know your light caresses were more than friendly, a way for you to touch him. No, you had been well behaved. Now he was looking at you and you are a deer in headlights after letting that comment slip.

“Oh, you know,” you say half laughing and half stuttering, “Too much alcohol causes people to lose their inhibitions and do things they usually wouldn’t do.”

“What types of things?”

“Pardon?” you reply quickly, your eyes looking into his curious ones.

“You said people do things they usually wouldn’t do. What things are you not doing?”

Your laugh is a bit sudden and desperate, coming from somewhere in your chest. You can feel your face starting to heat as you look everywhere but at his face. Is the AC working because it is getting warm? There is no escaping this line of questioning so you decide to turn it around on him instead. “What do YOU think, Jungkook?”

He sits there, staring into your eyes for what was probably a few seconds but felt like an eternity. At some point within that time he must come to some form of decision because he squints at you, smirks, and starts getting out of his chair.

“What are you doing?” falls frantically from your lips as he gets up from the desk chair, walks over, and goes down on one knee in front of you. Knowing it was a bad idea to sit on the bed when you arrived, you instead opted for the barrel chair by the window. You are now regretting this decision because there is nowhere to go. You are literally in a corner, in a chair that doesn't allow for much wiggle room. Now you are stuck between a chair and a handsome smirking Jungkook.

He places his hands on the arms of the chair, so close to your arms, before saying, “What do I think? Well first of all, I think your cheeks are rosy and even though you have drunk half a bottle of wine, it's not from the wine.” You swallow nervously as he continues. “Secondly, I think there are a number of things I want to do but I want to know what it is YOU want to do, Kitten.”

“Kitten?...KITTEN!...this cannot be happening,” you think as you feel your heart rate accelerate. He is so close. The tips of his fingers ever so slightly touch the skin on your arms. His eyes, currently level with yours, are staring at you with unwavering intent. He is waiting for you to respond, you can tell, but you don’t have any words.

“How about I help you out just this once, hmm? Just know the next time I ask you a question, I expect an answer.” He tilts his head to the side playfully as he responds and you can't believe what was coming out of this adorable, funny, bunny-like guy’s mouth.

He leans in, perfectly caging you into the chair, his face half a foot away. “I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you the entire time you have been in this hotel room. Every time you took a sip of wine, I couldn’t stop thinking about your lips, wrapped around that glass, and what they would feel like on me.” His eyes darted to your mouth as he said that and you unconsciously bit your lip. His eyes got wider and he takes a deep breath through his nose in response. “You have been sitting in this chair, cuddled up, laughing at my bad jokes, and all it did was make me want to be closer to you.” His hands move, sliding over your elbows resting on the armrests, up your biceps, and back down your forearms until they rest on your knees. He leaves them there as he continues, almost whispering at this point, “I have wanted to touch you this entire time and could barely hold myself into that chair. Now tell me, what is it YOU want?” He dips his chin as he looks into your eyes with a penetrating stare, hands still resting on your knees, thumbs lightly rubbing circles into your jeans.

His hands were so soft when they ghosted over your skin. You can feel the heat of his palms through the fabric of your jeans and it feels like it is alighting your entire body. An echo of his statement about expecting an answer runs across your thoughts as you try to figure out what to say. Part of you wants to know what will happen if you disobey him, but not right now. Right now you are letting desire and chance take over. Let’s go with the truth and see what happens.

“I sat in this chair, distanced from you, so I wouldn’t be tempted to run my hands over you. I couldn’t stop wondering how you would feel.” As you say this you slowly start leaning forward, closing the distance between the two of you. You place your hands, which had been resting gently on your stomach, on top of his. “I wanted to find out if your muscles were firm and if your skin was soft.” You ghost your fingertips around his fingers, the back of his hands, then circle his wrists to slide up his forearms to his biceps. “Every time your hair fell across your eyes I wanted to brush it away then sink my fingers into it.” With your right hand you brush the stray strands of hair from his forehead, making sure to run your fingertips across his brow. They continue their path down his temple before your thumb sweeps across his cheekbone, palm resting on his face. “I wondered if your mouth tasted like wine or if it tasted better because it tasted like Jungkook.” Staring directly into his eyes, you lean forward, closing the gap between your faces. Your eyes glance to his lips then back up right before your lips touch his.

It is a soft kiss, lips pressed together chastely. He doesn’t move, his only reaction is him gripping your knees a bit tighter. You pull away and drop your hand, opening your eyes to see him staring at you with a surprised look. I guess he didn’t expect direct honesty and follow through in the same instant. Before you have the chance to question whether you made the wrong decision, his right hand comes up gripping your neck and his mouth lands on yours. This is not a soft kiss; it is urgent. His face is turned to fit against you perfectly as his lips are slotted against your own. His mouth moves against yours, gentle and confident. You respond in kind, parting your lips to wrap yours around his, lightly sucking his bottom lip.

When your tongue grazes his lip, he loses what control he has over himself. A light groan comes from him before he pushes forward, pushing you back into the chair. He kneels fully, spreads your knees apart, and slots his body against you. He kisses you with a new intensity as his hands run up your thighs to your hips then your waist. His right hand continues up, brushing your chest, eventually settling with his palm on your jaw and thumb running over your cheek. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you open your mouth for him. He tastes divine as his tongue caresses yours. You are each giving exactly what the other asks for. When you push against him he responds with his own pressure. When you bite into his lip he returns the favor moments later. It is quiet yet loud, gentle yet intense, fulfilling yet making you crave more. His hands grip you firmly and ground you in the moment.

After an unknown amount of time he pulls away from you, not far but enough to let you breathe. You are both panting as he rests his forehead on yours, lips swollen and tasting of the other. His hands are still on you, one thumb running over your ribs while the other strokes your cheek.

“That was a better answer than I expected.” he admits as your mouth curves into a smile.

“It was honest.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” He says as he rubs his nose against yours. “I also appreciate your lips,” then plants a kiss on you that lingers even after he pulls away. “Can’t forget your tongue too.” This time when he goes in for the kiss his tongue immediately meets yours, giving it a long sultry swipe, before he pulls away to stare into your eyes. How can someone take your breath away and also feel like they are giving you life?

“I want to appreciate more of you,” he remarks as his hand on your waist slides slowly across your stomach, “all of you.” It slides upward between your breasts, thumb casually caressing the underside of one as it makes the journey to your heart. You shiver as his touch sends tingles through your body and he doesn’t miss it. “What do you want me to do to you?” His breathy whisper is light as you feel his exhale on your face. What DON’T you want him to do to you is a better question. You decide to show him. Placing your right hand over the one currently resting over your heart, you grab it and lower it until it is palming your breast. For emphasis, you squeeze his hand, squeezing your own breast as a result. His eyes track your movement and stay on your hand as it kneads your flesh. You watch him as he watches you, transfixed by his face. When he notices you watching he looks up into your eyes then kneads your breast on his own. This has a wholly different effect, causing your back to arch, eyes to close, and you to inhale sharply.

Your hand falls away from his as he says, “I asked you what you wanted me to do to you. As much as I enjoyed that, I want to hear it.” His last words are punctuated by him pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. A moan slips from your mouth as your head falls back onto the chair. “I told you before, when I ask you a question I expect an answer.” He tweaks your nipple again and it feels like lightning running through your veins. “Now I will ask you one more time, Kitten, what do you want me to do to you?” This time he pulls your nipple just a little while pinching it and you can feel the heat radiating from your skin as you moan an exhale.

“I want you to touch me. I want your hands on me. Your mouth on me. I want you.” The words fall from your mouth with abandon as you squirm in the chair. He is still so close, his smell taking over your senses. You can still taste him on your tongue. Your body is lit and your fingers itch to run over his body as much as you want his on yours.

Very suddenly he is standing. Within seconds he has pulled you up from the chair, reached down to the backs of your thighs, and picked you up. As he wraps your legs around his waist, his mouth once again lands on yours. This kiss is different from the others. Where the first was introductory and the second exploratory, this one is consuming. He is moving his lips against yours with speed and efficiency, sucking, biting, licking, and overwhelming your senses. His hands are on your thighs, holding you firmly to him. With your arms wrapped around his neck you kiss him back as you grind yourself against him. It is his turn to moan and he does, right into your mouth. He pulls you tighter to him as he reciprocates your movement. You can feel his hard length against your core and smile into the kiss knowing you are turning him on as much as he is you.

He walks you over to the bed, climbs on top, and lays you down amongst the pillows. His lips move from your mouth along your jaw, over to your ear, and down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes along. His body settles over yours, his weight solid and pleasing. When he gets to the junction of your neck and shoulder he bites down. You cry out, your moan the only sound in the room, as your heart races and your toes curl. “Do you like that?” he asks as he licks the spot he just bit. “Yes” rushes from your mouth as you try to catch your breath. “What else do you like?” He asks as he runs his left hand underneath your shirt, fingertips sliding across your skin as he lifts it higher.

“I like your hands on my chest. I want your mouth on my chest.” The words spill from you as he touches you through your thin bralette. Your nipples are hard and begging to be touched. A pleased noise comes from him before he says, “I can’t wait to see your breasts and taste them. Should I take off this shirt and give you what you asked for, Kitten?”

“Yes. Please.”

“So polite. How could I not give you exactly what you want when you are so sweet and responsive.” He raises up in order to get your shirt off. It gets caught on your head and you start to giggle. When it finally comes off you raise your face to his and catch him grinning with his bunny teeth on display. You are both grinning as he settles back down, scooting farther down this time to place soft kisses along your stomach. You are still wearing a bra but he seems to want it this way. His hands glide up your hips, waist, and sides until they are level with your breasts. His thumbs sweep out to circle your nipples. A groan leaves your mouth and you arch your back into his waiting hands. He takes his time, using the tips of his fingers to tease and flick, sometimes grabbing with his entire hand, cupping your breasts and rolling them all while he is kissing up your stomach and ribs. When his lips finally make it to your chest he plants gentle kisses everywhere but where you want his mouth. Exploring your flesh but not satisfying your need. You growl in frustration as he gets close to closing his mouth over your nipple, only to kiss around it, and he chuckles in response.

“What’s wrong Kitten, is there something you want from me?” He jokes as he does the same thing to your other breast, kissing but not hitting the mark. His thumbs again rub your nipples and you can’t believe how much you want him on you.

“I want you to suck on my nipples.” You state, embarrassment be damned, you need him to do this or you are going to burst.

He makes a sound low in his throat before he strikes, mouth latching onto your left nipple. It is just as good as you imagined. He sucks while his tongue swirls around the nub. He begins to flick his tongue and you whimper, right hand involuntarily reaching up to lace in his hair. He sucks again before lightly biting down and you can’t contain the sounds coming out of your mouth anymore. Just as fast as he was there, he switches to your other breast and your body bucks up against his. He repeats the attention he showed the other, licking, sucking, and biting, until both your hands are messing up his hair and your body is writhing in pleasure.

His hand snakes behind your back to unlatch your bra and he starts peeling the straps off as you raise your arms. He removes it, tossing it to the floor as his eyes slowly move from yours down to see your exposed breasts. When his eyes land on your hard nipples he bites his lip and takes a deep breath before looking up at you again. With gentleness he leans up and kisses you and whispers across your mouth, “You are so beautiful,” before he kisses you deeply and runs his hands over your bare breasts for the first time. You didn’t realize how much the fabric got in the way until his soft hands are on you. He detaches from your mouth and delicately suckles your right breast. It's like all your nerve endings are on high alert because every touch of his tongue sends heat straight to your core. You can feel yourself getting wetter the more his tongue is on you.

This entire time you have been taking anything he gives you but you want to show him how much you want him too. Your hands are in his hair and you begin running them across his shoulders, down his back, sides, arms. Anywhere you can touch him is where your fingers find themselves. You scrap your nails lightly along his back and he shivers. You continue exploring and begin pulling up his shirt to feel his warm skin. He stops his attention on your chest and sits up, pulling his shirt over his head. You drink him in, his lightly golden skin, abs, and pecs. You lick your lips, wanting to taste him. Before he has a chance to move you sit up, hands going to his slim waist, latching your lips to his stomach. You feel the muscles flex beneath your mouth. You glance up at him as your mouth moves across his abs. He is looking down at you with hooded eyes, lips parted, breath coming out in short bursts. You trail up his abs to his pecs and take one of his nipples in your mouth. Instantly, his right hand comes up to cradle your head and an audible moan falls from his mouth. Taking this as a sign to keep going, you swirl your tongue around his bud before sucking on it. His grip in your hair tightens and more moans fall from his mouth. You take your time, licking, biting, and sucking on one nipple before switching to the other. This time the moan that comes from him is loud and makes you shiver. You did not know how hot it would be to hear him moaning because of your actions.

“It sounds like you like that.” You say, inbetween licking him and flicking him. Causing him to twitch.

“Yes, you are so good with your tongue.” he responds with his eyes closed, caught up in the sensation.

His hard on is on full display now, with no way to hide it in his baggy sweatpants. It twitches upward every time you flick his nipple. You run your right hand down his body to wrap around his dick. His response is automatic. He bucks into your hand as he says, “ahhhh, oh god,” hand fisting harder into your hair. You palm him a few times before pulling away from his chest, grabbing his waistband, and pulling down his pants and underwear in one movement. His eyes are big and full of surprise when he looks at you but it is short lived when you wrap your hand around his now bare dick. Still kneeling he stays there, head falling back, eyes closed, hands landing on your shoulders. A bead of precum is oozing from his tip and you slide your thumb over it, spreading it around. He whines from the touch, fingers gripping into your shoulders. You begin moving your hand, slowly pumping him when you decide to play by his rules.

“What do you want me to do to you, baby?” You coo, looking up at him with seductive eyes. His head snaps up, eyes opening, taking you in. You run your thumb along his head again and his mouth drops open, tongue wetting his lips before he says, “I want to feel your tongue on my dick.”

With no hesitation you lick a stripe from the bottom of his shaft up his head. A deep moan comes from him as he steadies himself on your shoulders. You take his tip into your mouth and lightly suck while swirling your tongue. It takes everything in him not to buck into your mouth but he holds himself still and takes everything you will give him. Wetting your lips you slide your mouth along his dick until you hit the back of your throat. His left hand moves from your shoulder up to cup your neck. You hollow out your cheeks and begin a slow bobbing of your head. Constant moans are falling from his lips as you work his length. You glide your tongue along the sensitive underside of him and find the spots that make him twitch and shiver. You suck hard and bottom out, causing him to cry out only to slow down and draw out his pleasure. Your right hand begins to fondle his balls, causing him to cry out with “oh god yes, like that.” and hum your approval around his dick.

He grabs your face and pulls his body away from you. His dick leaves your mouth with a pop and a groan as you gaze up at him, lips swollen and covered in saliva and precum. His eyes are on fire, filled with need. He is breathing heavily and trying to get himself under control.

“As much as I love this mouth of yours, this is not how I plan on cumming tonight.” He says as he moves to lay down next to you on the bed, removing his pants in the process. His hands go to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping, trying to remove them with no success. You stand up, pulling your jeans off, wearing only your underwear when he says, “the panties too.” You grab the band at your waist and while staring him in the eyes you slowly lower your underwear to the floor. A smirk grows on his face as they hit the ground and you step out of them.

“Come here, Kitten.” He says and gestures to the bed and himself.

You lay down next to him on your side but he leans in and kisses you, causing you to fall to your back. His tongue is doing wonderful things in your mouth when you feel his fingers on your hip. They trail along your hip and thigh until they curl up to your center. He swipes one finger along your slit,rubbing but not exploring. The next time he is parting your folds.

“God, you are so wet.” He states as he rubs his finger in against your lips, spreading the wetness around more. His finger reaches the apex of your core and circles around your clit causing you to inhale sharply. “Do you like that?” he asks as he continues to rub you in just the right spot.

“Oh yes,” you moan into his mouth, feeling his cock twitch against your leg.

“Do you want me to put my fingers inside of you?”

“Yes, please fill me.” Comes out in a breath as he flicks his finger over your clit causing you to jerk in his arms.

“Ugh, that is so hot when you ask for it.” He states as he sinks his finger inside of you. Your hips jut upward, searching for more as he caresses the inside of you.

“You are so tight. I can’t wait to get my dick inside of you and stretch you around me. Will you like that?”

You clench around his finger and say, “yes, I want your perfect dick inside of me. I want to clench around you and make you cum.”

He moans along with you, pressing his dick against your side to find some kind of friction. The pretty words coming from your mouth make him want you even more. He inserts another finger into you and you moan from the fullness. His thumb rubs against your clit and you can feel the tension in your belly growing.

“If you don’t stop I am going to cum.” you say breathlessly as he swirls your clit in just the right way to make you buck off the bed.

“I want you to cum. I want to see your face as you burst with the pleasure my hand is giving you. Then I am going to fuck you and make you cum again. How does that sound?”

“So good, ohhh” you moan out as he curls his fingers inside of you. You are right there, so close, just one or two more swipes of his thumb and you are going to break. He kisses you softly, swiping his tongue over your lips and whispers, “cum for me, Kitten.” and you do. Back arching, mouth falling open, you cry out as your walls spasm around his fingers. He continues to work you through the aftershocks, staring directly into your eyes the entire time. Once you have come down from the high, he removes his fingers from inside of you and lifts them to his mouth. He sucks your juices off of them with a satisfied look on his face. You are panting, feeling incredibly siated, while watching him devour his own fingers, and it couldn’t be hotter.

“Any other time I would want to taste you, have you cum on my tongue, but right now all I want is my dick inside you. I hope that is okay with you?” He says as he raises one brow with the smirk to match.

“Please put your dick inside of me, I need it. I need you.” You say to him. He bites his lip as his hand goes down to grab his hard dick. He slowly pumps it a few times and you watch, the head glistening, his eyes on you with a parted mouth as he feels the pleasure he gives himself. It is incredibly hot to see him touching himself while looking at and thinking of you.

He stops his movements and gets off the bed to walk to his suitcase. You hear the crinkle of a wrapper before you see the condom in his hand. He rips open the package and slides the condom onto himself. The anticipation has you breathing heavily while you throb for him, clenching around nothing. He climbs back onto the bed and you lay back, opening your legs wide, making room for him. Slowly, he makes his way between your legs until he is hovering over you, arms bracing his weight on either side of your head. He is staring into your eyes, drinking in the look of you laying there, lips parted, body ready for him.

He leans forward and kisses you sweetly. As he kisses you his hips move forward and his erection rubs against your folds. A high pitched gasp comes from your mouth as he repeats the movement, rubbing his length against your core, making sure the head hits your clit. He continues to kiss you and move against you, causing you to lose track of time. He is panting as he says, “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes, I am so ready. Please.” You whine as he grinds against you a little harder and you feel your walls clench making you drip. All you want at this moment is him.

He kisses you again as you feel his head at your entrance. Then he is pushing forward, sliding into you slowly. Your head falls back, mouth falling open, a breath leaving you. He takes his time, sliding in one inch at a time, making sure you adjust to his size. He moans as he pushes the last few inches and bottoms out, eyes closed, biting his bottom lip. After a moment he opens his eyes and stares into yours before saying, “are you okay? I’m not hurting you am I?” The duality of this guy who was punishing you one moment and checking on your wellbeing the next.

“Yes. I am okay.”

That is all he needs before he starts to pull out of you and you both groan from the friction. He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you before he pushes in again. The pace is still slow but you can feel all of him. His hips are working now, creating a slow rhythm that has you losing your mind. Small moans are falling from both your mouths as he moves inside you. He gets down on his elbows, slotting his body in between yours as he grinds himself into you. You grab his face and kiss him, tongue exploring his mouth as your hands slide over his body. He hits a good spot and you moan, hips jutting forward grinding into him as you clench around him. This draws a deep groan from him as he stops kissing you and lowers his mouth to your ear.

“You feel amazing. I love the way you clench around my dick.” He takes that moment to bite into the sensitive flesh of your neck and you cry out.

“These sounds you are making are so hot. When you cum, I want to hear you cry out my name.”

“Yes.” You breathe out as you run your hands down his back and grab his ass. Raising your hips you use your new found leverage to work against him. He moans into your neck. “These sounds you are making are incredibly hot as well” you say as you lick the column of his throat up to his ear while grinding harder against him.

He suddenly sits up on his knees, eyes filled with desire. He is done with the slow love making as he grabs your thighs and begins to move faster, slamming into you a bit harder. At this angle he hits you in a different spot that sends tingles through your body every time. He is biting his lip and staring at his dick as it enters you, watching himself fuck you. Your head falls back, eyes closing, as you moan loudly from all the sensations. You feel his hand on your breast and your hips buck up against him again, allowing him to get deeper. Your fingers curl into the sheets and you cry out as he tweaks your nipple. His other hand finds your clit and begins to rub a steady circle around the small nub, pushing you toward another release.

“God yes, that feels so good. Don’t stop”

“You are so tight and wet. I am so close but I want you to cum. Do you think you can cum for me, Kitten?” He emphasizes this with a sweeping rub of his thumb.

“Yes. Yes I want to cum. I am so close. That feels so good.” Your words trail off as the tension in your body builds and is about to break.

“Cum for me, again. That's it. I want to see the look in your eyes. Look at me, Kitten.”

You open your eyes and you look at him as your body goes taught like a bow string. Jungkook is pumping into you steadily, one hand working your clit as the other works your nipple. He is beautiful and sexy, sweat beading his brow, mouth parted, muscles flexing from his movements. “Oh, Jungkook, yes!” you exclaim as the tension in you finally snaps. His eyes are locked onto yours as you spasm around his cock. A moan falls from his mouth as he feels your orgasm washing through you and around him. He continues rubbing you through your waves of pleasure until you tell him to stop and he falls back to hover over you.

“That was so fucking hot” he says as he kisses you hard, running his tongue over yours. He begins to move inside you again, causing you to moan into his mouth. It is his turn and he seems eager to use you for his pleasure. You want to be used. You want to make him cum.

“Yes, Jungkook. Just like that. I want to make you feel good. I want to make you cum. Will you cum for me now?” You say as you grind against him. He moans into your neck, whining as he says, “Yes, you make me feel so good. Can I cum inside of you or do you want me to pull out?”

“You are wearing a condom. You can cum inside of me. I want you to fill me up.”

His only response is another moan as he grabs onto your hip and pumps into your furiously.

“Look at me, baby. I want to see your pleasure. I can’t wait to feel you pulsing inside of me.”

He pulls back from your neck and looks in your eyes as his mouth falls open and he starts to moan louder.

“Yes, baby. That’s it. Cum for me.” is all it takes for him to pump into you one last time before he stills, a loud groan falling from his mouth, as you feel his dick expand and pulse as he cums inside of you. He is looking at you, directly into your eyes though he seems lost in his pleasure. His hips gently rut against you as he rides out his high, pants coming from his mouth, and beads of sweat dripping down his dark locks. He leans down and kisses you. Soft, sweet kisses. After a handful of them he pulls away and smiles at you. It’s a beautiful smile, showing his teeth and dimples. You smile back and lift a hand to caress his face. He kisses your hand as he begins to pull out of you, causing you both to groan from over stimulation.

“I will be right back, don’t move.” He says as he walks over to the bathroom and removes the spent condom. When he comes back he gets on the bed, laying down to cuddle you but tells you to go pee first, knowing that it is the best thing to prevent issues post-sex. Your heart swells from the thoughtfulness as you do your business and come back, jumping on the bed. He laughs at you as he wraps you in his long arms. He snuggles you into his chest, leaving tiny kisses in your hair.

“That was seriously incredible” he finally says to break the comfortable silence. “I mean it. I don’t remember the last time I came that hard. I wanted to cum from the moment I was inside of you. You were doing that thing with your hips then the way you were talking to me. Gosh, I could barely contain myself” he kisses your head again, then looks in your eyes before kissing your mouth. “You are incredible.”

A blush rises to your cheeks as you respond, “You are not half bad yourself. That dick of yours is magic.” He laughs loudly and kisses you again before pulling you against him.

“Stay with me tonight.” He states with no warning. You raise your chin to look him in the eyes. He has a pleading look in them that you were not expecting. Hopefully maybe but this looks more like need than want. “Stay with me, please.”

How can you say no to him? You nod your head and he envelopes you both in the blankets as he cradles you against him, slowly falling asleep.

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

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jj-babebank · 3 years

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Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 3

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC

Part 1 ; Part 2

Part 3 -

Music was blasting in the boys’ cabin and John B made sure to keep the lights dimmed to a maximum, adding to what he referred to as ‘the groovy ambiance’. Caroline and Sarah entered the cabin, leading the way for all of their fellow girl counselors. Word spread faster than a wildfire around the Wildcat Lodge and now everyone was attending what was meant to be a welcoming party for just the boys. Caroline leaned against the ladder of one of the bunk beds and crossed her arms as her and Sarah waited in anticipation for their grand scheme to play out.

“Caroline, Sarah!” John B’s voice alerted them as he snuck up between them, hooking an arm around both their shoulders, “Right on time for the big surprise!” he said, walking dramatically towards what the girls already knew to be his luggage. He turned the music down on his way there, “Alright everybody, listen up!” he said, stopping by his bed, gathering everyone’s attention, “I’m sure to most of us, if not all of us – camp Willowdale is a token of light, a beacon of faith, an ode to nostalgia, if you will,” he spoke dramatically, waving his hands around, making Caroline and Sarah chuckle, “Which is why we have all gathered here tonight, and for that reason, I have done my due diligence and prepared a special surprise for all of us. Girls and boys, allow me to introduce to you,” his hands went to unzip the bag, “Ton-” his eyes widened in horror as he unzipped the bag, revealing it to be totally empty, except for his scarce clothes and the limp body of what appeared to be a dead owl at the bottom.

Everyone around him seemed either disappointed or confused as he frantically ran around the room, looking for his alcohol stash. Caroline and Sarah, however, gasped at the sight before them.

“Shit,” muttered Sarah, “What the hell is that? When I said I was hoping there wouldn’t be animals in there I didn’t think there’d actually be animals in there…”

Caroline shook her head, “Screw what it is! The real question is – who put it there?”

The girls were so focused on their conversation they barely noticed JJ showing up, “You girls know anything about this?” he said, making both of them jump.

“JJ!” Caroline said, trying to mask all sense of worry in her voice, “How could we possibly know anything about this?”

“We did it,” said Sarah quickly, “We stole the alcohol, but we swear to God we have no idea who put that pigeon in there!”

“Sarah!” hissed Caroline, only making Sarah shrug.

“What?” the girl said, “If there’s some psycho playing tricks on us, we might as well have a guy on our side!”

JJ raised an eyebrow, a small smile spreading on his face, “You’re telling me you two are behind this?”, he said, looking at Caroline impressed, “Gee, Carrie, didn’t picture you to be the bad type,”

Caroline’s cheeks heated up immediately as Sarah rolled her eyes and turned to look at JJ, “Earth to Maybank, are you listening to me? We only stole the booze, we didn’t put that in there!”

“Relax, girls,” said JJ, “Knowing John B, that little fucker probably sat dead at the bottom of his bag for a while before you even got to the alcohol,”

Caroline and Sarah both scrunched their noses in disgust, however what JJ was saying did make sense.

“You’re probably right,” sighed Caroline, “Booze is in our storage room, me and Sarah will go fetch it now,” she said, pulling Sarah out of the cabin.

“Are you crazy?” Sarah hissed at her, “Do you really want to give them all that alcohol back? Jesus, Carrie, how the hell do you expect me to last all summer sober? It’s bad enough I have to bunk with Madison Hague…”

“Relax, Sarah, I’m sure there’s gonna be a handful of teenagers with secret stashes of alcohol just waiting to be confiscated,”

Sarah sighed in relief, “You’re totally right, C,” she said, shaking her head as they walked the few steps up to their cabin’s door, “We’re just gonna rob our teens! What could possibly go wrong?”

As she said that and pressed onto the door handle, an ear-piercing scream echoed through the forest, making the hairs on the back of her arm stand.

“What was that?!” she quickly turned to Caroline, who was just as frozen as she was. Counselors started coming out of the boys’ cabin, the music dying down again suddenly. JJ and John B quickly made their way towards the girls, both visibly concerned.

“Are you alright?” said JJ.

Caroline nodded, crossing her arms, “I am, but whoever’s in there doesn’t sound like they are,” she said, tilting her head in the direction of the thick forest from where the scream came.

By this point, Pricilla and the rest of the head staff appeared from the staff lodge, all looking slightly tipsy as they paced through the path to the counselors’ cabins.

“What in the world is going on here?” Pricilla said, trying not to slur her words.

“Sounds like we should be asking you the same thing,” John B muttered under his breath, earning a chuckle from JJ.

“Our guess is as good as yours, Miss P,” explained Topper, shrugging, “We were all hanging out in there when we heard the scream and came out,”

“Well whose was it?” enquired Pricilla, looking slightly annoyed that her night had to be cut short for these teenagers’ shenanigans. When no one could give her an answer, she rolled her eyes and waved them over, “Come on then, off to Wildcat Lodge. We’re gonna have to do a count,”

Once everyone was gathered in the lodge, Pricilla waited for Mrs. Darbyshire, who also seemed a bit too drunk to be taking any of this seriously, to bring her a list of all the counselors’ names.

“Alright,” she said once the list was in her hands, “I’m gonna do a name call. Once we figure out who’s missing, you’re gonna go into that forest and look for them.” This earned her a bunch of annoyed comments and groans, making Pricilla snap back, “Don’t give me that shit, you lost ‘em, now you gotta find ‘em.”

“This is bullshit,” Caroline crossed her arms, “We’re literally minors, what are they gonna do?”

“They’re gonna finish their party,” interjected JJ.

Caroline shook her head in annoyance as Pricilla started reading out everyone’s names one by one.

“Jenna Kinley?”

“Here!”

“Kelce Johnson?”

“Here.”

“Barry Smith?”

“S’up.”

“Madison Hague?”

No answer.

This made Pricilla stand up straighter, looking around the pool of counselors in front of her, “Madison are you here?” when there was no reply yet again, she sighed loudly, “Has anyone seen Madison?”

“Last time I saw her, she said she was going to the girls’ cabin to pick up a jacket,” chimed in Topper.

“Oh, for the love of-” Pricilla groaned loudly, “This better not be a stupid prank, or I swear!”

“I should’ve just given her one of my jackets…” muttered Topper, “Now I feel kinda guilty,”

“Hey, it’s alright,” said Caroline, tapping him on the shoulder, “I’m sure she only saw a bug or something,”

“I trust you’ll all disperse and look for your friend now,” said Pricilla, “In the meantime, us adults will be supervising the Wildcat Lodge,”

“Supervising from what?” asked JJ confused.

“In case… Madison comes back here, of course!” Pricilla quickly lied, “Now off you go, Maybank, you ask way too many questions!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is ridiculous,” moaned Sarah after bouncing down the stairs of the girls’ cabin with a bag on her arm, “As if this summer couldn’t get any worse,”

“Pipe it, princess,” bit back JJ, “If you didn’t insist on stopping by the cabin before we went into the woods, maybe we’d have called it a night by now.”

“Don’t big yourself too much, Maybank,” she said, leading their pack into the trees and looking around to see whether the coast was clear, “You see, while you were moping around outside, I picked up some provisions,” she said, a devilish smirk spreading on her face as she pulled out a bottle of whiskey from her bag.

Caroline’s jaw nearly broke off, “Sarah, are you serious?”

Sarah only shrugged, “What? I told you I’m not gonna make it through tonight sober, besides, if I’m gonna be looking for the bitch I was hoping wouldn’t be here in the first place, I’d rather be shit-faced when I find her,”

Caroline rolled her eyes, snatching the bottle from Sarah’s hands, “Yeah, well, if I’m going to be looking for the bitch with you, I’d rather be shit-faced too,” she said, taking a rather large swig of the alcohol and hissing at the taste.

“Sweet,” said JJ, picking the bottle up from Caroline, “This is better than the party,”

John B agreed as he got hold of the bottle last.

The group walked through the forest, flashlights in hand, taking the whiskey bottle in turns and laughing as they went. John B had argued that if Sarah could pick something from her cabin, then he could pick his speaker from his, and so the four of them found themselves nearing the clearance by the lake, drunk and singing along to some cheesy song that was currently playing loud enough for only them to hear.

“It’s a good thing Pricilla wanted us here a day early,” slurred John B slightly, “Now you girls have set up the bonfire area and we can chill there,”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “Yeah, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”

John B raised an eyebrow and turned to Caroline, “What’s she talking about?”

Just as Caroline was about to answer, they reached the bonfire area, which much to her dismay – had been totally wrecked, once again.

“This,” she said, anger quickly replacing the previous buzz she was feeling from the alcohol.

“Whoa, who did this?” said JJ, flashing his flashlight in the direction of the discarded logs and pillows.

“What do you mean who did this?” snapped Sarah, “Why’d you think we stole your alcohol?”

“Sarah, we didn’t do this,” John B shook his head.

Sarah stopped dead in her tracks, her face becoming slightly worried “What do you mean you didn’t do this? Then who did?”

“Guys,” Caroline chimed in from across the bonfire area, where the fire was supposed to be lit the following night, “Come check this out,”

The three teens made their way towards Caroline who was flashing her light at one of the rocks at the base of the fire pit. There was something written on it with a gooey substance the origin of which none of them wanted to question.

“I don’t know who did it, but whoever it was,” said Caroline, stepping back from the rock so that her friends could see what was written more clearly on it, “Probably did this, too.”

And there on the rock, written with what looked an awfully lot like blood, were plastered four words:

Come and find me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 4 here x

A/N: Finally something is happening haha I hope you're enjoying so far, let me know what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist, please notify me! Story is about to get juicy from now on hehehe

Link to masterlist here. xxxx

taglist: @k-k0129

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mrkis · 2 years

Note

Currently watching the Recording behind the scenes of Saturday Drip, and I am slightly tipsy, had a bottle of wine by myself and was also at work until midnight and I just reached the part where Mark says "Whatchu doin' on the weekend?" and all I can think and scream about is "well sadly, not YOU" and idk man ... I feel like life is unfair. How am I supposed to be with a dude that is not Mark (or Jaemin cause he is mh ult)??

Also, I have had Mark on my mind 24/7 for the past like 2 weeks, and I am genuinely concerned about my well being cause this man lives rent free in my head ALL.THE.FUCKING.TIME??? How am I supposed to go about my daily life when all I can think about is Mark fucking my brains out in the most gentle yet nasty way??? My mind is literally filled with his whimpers and whispers, his whiney "fucks" and the image of his fingers bruising my waist.... someone send helps cause I am slowly slipping into madness the way I want Mark to slip into me...

P.S. love your blog, and I also feel super comfortable saying all these stuff cause I know you will agree and relate on the Mark thirst 😘

-🦄

any thirst (especially mark thirst) is welcomed and related here. i love it. give it all to me.

but nah the moment i first heard him say “what you doing on the weekend” in saturday drip, i nearly fainted right then and there. i couldn’t believe those words came outta his mouth… he sounded so sexy and desperate and i just wanted to do him. i want to do him on the weekend

as he should live rent free!!! let him in :) don’t fight it :) join me :) marks definitely the type of person that would be so shy and gentle during the first time he has sex but listen… once he feels a pussy wrapped around his cock, the noises that they make… his pace will be feral and he wouldn’t even realise it until he’s the one whimpering

#🦄anon #morny hours #could the bottom half count as morny hours #too bad it does now

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radiosandrecordings · 4 years

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i’m almost scared to ask this due to the angst potential but 22 with jm, please?

You blessed me with a Good Martin earlier, I’ll spare you from the angst storm (I have nooo ulterior motives here, me, who doesn’t like writing angst? None whatsoever)

Set in some nebulous no-powers au where they get to go home from a Normal Date. Thank you @horngryeyes for letting me just message him asking for Polish swears

22) Things you said after it was over

“I had a really nice time tonight.”

Martin smiled as Jon leaned closer into his side, joined hands between them stilling from their gentle swing, purely because they no longer had space to with Jon cosied up against him. “I’m glad, I had a wonderful time as well.”

The restaurant they had been to had been close to Martin’s apartment, and so they were currently on their way to the nearest tube station for Martin to see him off safely. They proceeded to walk in a comfortable silence for several minutes, the comforting presence of the other at their side driving off the chill of the early Spring evening.

It was only when they reached the entrance to the tube station and Martin’s eyes drifted to the screen displaying a digital clock did they realise something was wrong.

“Wait, what?” Jon vocalised his concern before Martin, a furrow forming on his brow. “That can’t be right.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and glared at the lock screen. The harsh white light illuminated exactly the same numbers as those staring back down at them in green LED from the wall of the station. 1:06AM. Aka, past the time any of the trains were running in Jon’s direction home.

“How? I checked as we were paying, we were getting ready to leave the restaurant at 11:40, it can’t have taken us over an hour to walk here, it was barely a mile!”

“... Jon what day is it?”

“What?”

“Just, check for me?”

Jon hit the button again and his phone screen lit up. “Just turned over to the 28th. Is that anything?”

“Spring forward, fall back, kurde,” Martin muttered under his breath. “Of course. Just our luck. Clocks just went forward for British Summertime. So we essentially just lost an hour, and it’s now one as opposed to just gone twelve. So... No trains.”

“... No trains”

There was a silence for a moment, breath starting to cloud in front of them as they breathed in the cool night air, rapidly getting colder. The silence was broken by the sound of Jon typing, fingers quickly skimming over his phone as he began trying to search for alternatives. “Buses maybe? I think they’re still running but I’m not sure if there’s any going my route....”

Another few seconds passed of Jon hurriedly typing and Martin chewing his lip. Eventually, he managed to muster up the courage to speak, “I mean.. You could always come back to mine?”

And immediately, his mind was racing with all the different reasons for why he shouldn’t have said that. This was only their third official date, was that too soon to invite Jon back to his house? They weren’t even technically dating yet, there was still a certain degree of casual about their relationship, they weren’t actually boyfriends. God, what if Jon misunderstood what he was saying? They’d had that conversation even before they’d started seeing each other, one friend trusting another with an intimate detail of their life. Martin didn’t want Jon to think he’d forgotten, or worse, was disregarding it. And even past those two points, Jon was technically still his boss - Logically he knew if they were breaking any kind of office conduct they would have done so three dinners ago, but this felt different, to invite someone to your home felt far more vulnerable, and serious.

“Uh- That’s okay, Martin I wouldn’t want to impose...”

Martin isn’t quite sure where he got the courage to continue. Normally he’d take Jon’s response to heart, overthink it, and end up interpreting it as ‘I don’t want to do that and am trying to let you down easy’. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine he’d had at dinner, or some spirit of the moment daring, but whatever it is possessed him long enough for him to say “You wouldn’t be imposing. Actually, I would rather like you to be there?”

Jon looked slightly stunned for a moment, before Martin began to see a faint flush darken his cheeks. “Oh, uhm...” A spike of anxiety shot through Martin as Jon dipped his head to cough into his fist, but when he drew it away again he looked somewhat... Bashful? “Well, if... Yes, okay then. I would like to be there as well.”

“Good.”

There was another few beats of silence before both, tipsy on averagely-priced wine and drunk on nervous energy, lapsed into childish giggles. “Lead the way, Mr Blackwood,” Jon crooned, leaning into his arm again, and Martin knew he was joking, playful atmosphere being allowed to overtake the anxious one between them, but he rather liked the sound of that.

It was another ten minutes of walking further to get back to Martin’s flat, and Jon only managed to stumble over his own two feet once, which may have been partially due to his own three glasses of red setting in, or just the fact that it was rather awkward to walk when trying to merge with the coat of the man beside you.

“It’s uhm, sorry if it’s a little messy, I wasn’t expecting company, obviously,” Martin apologised as he fumbled with the key in the lock.

“’M sure it’s fine.” Jon’s speech was getting a little messier now, but really only to the degree that was notable by Standard Jon English. He wasn’t quite at the swaying on his feet stage yet, but he was blinking sleepily, a small, content smile playing gently at his lips.

As he stepped in the door, Martin shrugged his coat off and hung it by the door, gesturing an invitation for Jon to do the same, which he accepted. Martin took his hand again to lead him inside, but let go again soon enough to step into the small alcove of the kitchen to fetch two glasses and fill them at the sink. “I think we could both use these,” he said softly, handing one to Jon, who took it gratefully. They sipped their water in silence for a moment, enjoying the relative peace and warmth that being inside afforded them. They didn’t sit, both just leaned against the wall while Jon took in the contents of a bookshelf and Martin watched him do so, both with equal levels of intrigue.

Eventually, the silence was broken by the muffled sound of a yawn from Jon, who tried to cover it with one hand. “Right, maybe time for bed then?” Martin suggested, taking the glass from him and putting them both beside the sink to deal with tomorrow.

When he returned Jon was hovering around the couch, like he wanted to take a seat but was unsure how to go about doing so. “You okay?”

“Oh, uhm, yes, I just... You wouldn’t happen to have a spare blanket, would you?”

“What?”

“Sorry to be a bother I just- Never mind, it’s fine. Good night, Martin.”

“...What?”

“I- I’m sorry did I do something wrong?”

“No, just... C’mon, bedrooms this way.”

“Oh!” And there was that flush again, more visible under the lights of the flat than it had been under streetlamps.

“... Jon, did you think I was going to make you sleep on the sofa?” Martin felt his voice trail slightly upwards at the end, struck both by humour and concern.

“I didn’t want to presume!” Jon said, shaking his hands out. “Um... Okay then, lead the way.”

Martin smiled, before doing the mental math and squinting. “Two seconds?” He said, before quickly making his way into the bedroom and doing his best to make the room look as presentable as possible within a short amount of time. A minute or two later he opened the door again, and Jon made his way inside.

His room wasn’t anything special, just a standard bedroom in a low quality apartment, but the duvet and quilt had been straightened and clothes haphazardly strewn about the room had been banished into the laundry basket, and the lamp on his bedside table was casting a soft yellow glow about the room, making the room feel warm and cosy.

Jon just kind of stood there for a moment, like he was trying to figure out what to do next, before Martin realised what was wrong with the picture. “Oh, uhm, clothes, do you want to borrow a shirt or something?”

The words were out of Martin’s mouth before he could really think through the implications of them, practicality and comfort overriding the realisation that Jon borrowing his shirt would mean Jon, in his bed, wearing his clothes.

“That would be good, thank you.”

Martin attempted to keep his composure by going over to his drawers and rooting around for two shirts, one for himself and one for Jon. “I’d offer you bottoms too but I’m not really sure they’d fit, is that okay?” Martin said, turning to hand Jon a shirt. He wasn’t sure what Jon was comfortable with, where boundaries lay yet, he didn’t want to force Jon into something that overstepped.

“I think that should be fine,” Jon said, and Martin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Right, uh, do you want to take the bathroom and I’ll...?”

“Okay, sure, sure.”

Jon made his way through the other door in the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Martin was just finished changing into his own pyjamas when a knock came from the other side of the door, startling him slightly. “Oh, finished!”

The door opened, and Jon walked into the room. Now, Martin had known, theoretically, for the last three minutes that Jon had been gone that when he saw him again he would be standing in his bedroom wearing his shirt. But it was quite another thing to actually see it, soft golden lamplight reflecting against eyes that at this point were losing the fight to stay open, too-large shirt with a faded movie poster on it hanging loosely around his shoulders, panning down to boxers and bare feet on the wooden floor. Martin felt his breath catch in his throat slightly.

“Are you okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, fine. Do you, uhm, need anything?”

“No, no, I’m fine thank you, I think I’m just about ready to pass out if it’s all the same to you.”

“I can agree with that.”

Jon kept his eyes on the bed, watching until Martin had walked over to his chosen side and pulled the covers back before padding round to the opposite and climbing in beside him.

There were a few awkward moments where they both got comfortable. Martin hadn’t shared a bed with someone in quite a while, and it was an odd sensation to try and get used to again. “Pillows, do you- Is that enough?”

“Two is more than fine, thank you Martin,” Jon said, cleaning back against them.

“Right, well... Good night, Jon.”

“Good night, Martin.” Jon said, voice barely above a whisper now as his eyes drifted closed. Martin took that as a cue to turn the light off.

Martin had never been aware of how loud the analog clock hanging on his wall was until that moment, dull ticks making themselves thunderous in the silence between them. He must have counted to sixty several times over before Martin heard a rustling beside him, and felt the duvet twitch.

“Martin?” If Jon’s goodnight had been a whisper, this was barely audible, but as it was Martin was so aware of every footstep of his neighbours, creaking of pipes, or car going past outside, it sounded like it was said directly into his ear. Which, really, wasn’t that far off, considering how close Jon was, lying on the pillow next to him.

“Mmmh?”

“I.. Thank you, for today. For this.”

“You don’t have to thank me for a date, Jon, that’s... I mean, not that I’m not tempted to thank you in return but that’s not how that works.”

He rolled on to his side to face Jon, and was greeted by a face only a few inches away him his. “Oh. Hi.”

Jon smiled. “Hi.”

“Can I... Do you mind if...” Words failing him, Martin leaned forward. When Jon didn’t seem to retreat, he leaned further, until he was pressing a kiss to his brow. “Is... Is that okay?”

There was a low rumbling from Jon’s throat, vibrating across the pillow. “More than okay. Encouraged, even,” Jon said, and suddenly he was pressing a kiss to Martin’s cheek in return. He searched under the duvet for a moment, before twining his fingers together with Martin’s, and proceeded to roll over to face away from him, dragging Martin’s arm with him until it was draped across him, gently cradling their bodies together. “Good night, Martin.”

Yeah. Yeah, it was a pretty good night.

#My Post #My Writing #I hate to say it but it's 2:15 if there's spelling errors that's tomorrow oran's problem #The Magnus Archives #Jonmartin #Jonathan Sims #Martin Blackwood #dudeiwannasleep

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athensgorgia · 3 years

Text

Jealous Gojo Satoru x female reader pt.2

Author's notes: Sorry it took so long for me to do. I had finals to do. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but some people requested a part two. This will be the end no more parts. It may be terrible because I didn't know what to do sorry.

Warnings: Mature language

You were well dressed and ready to pick Gojo up, hoping that you wouldn't have to wait an hour for him to get ready. There you were knocking at his door and to your surprise a teen girl opened it. "Who are you?" she asks in an unpleasant tone. "Y/n l/n, who are you?" you ask back. "Oh I'm his student Nobara. Just wait a second his getting dressed." she smiles welcoming you in. "Nope! That's it! I half expected him to cheat on me but not this early! And with his fucking student DISGUSTING!" You yell and laugh in disbelief.

"NO! NO! YOU'VE GOT IT ALL WR-" Nobara tries to explain but you already begin storming off. Just then a teenage boy with spikey hair grabs your arm. "Please calm down and let us explain." he requests in a monotone voice. You tug your arm away but don't make an attempt to leave willing to hear them out. "I am Megumi Fushiguro. We are his students. Today he was gushing about how he got a girlfriend and Nobara asked him what he was going to wear. After that Gojo kind of went into a panic so we decided to help him. But now there's a situation." Megumi explains not even gasping for air.

You become concerned "What type of situation?" you say. Megumi and Nobara look at eachother then motion for you to follow them. On the way to Gojo's room you could hear a boisterous voice. "C'mon sensei you can do this!" the voice cheers. Then another deeper voice chimes in "He's absolutely fucked kid." the other voice says. Nobara opens Gojo's bedroom door and points with her hand at the current predicament.

You can see clothes scattered everywhere along with empty sweets containers. There was a pink haired boy that was talking to a t-shirt and sweatpants clad Gojo. Gojo was curled up into a ball facing the walls as if he was in time out. The pink haired boy looks at you and sighs in defeat. "Sensei it's too late she's already here." Yuuji whines. Gojo turns his head to face you and goes red in the face. Gojo proceeds to run and lock himself in his bathroom.

You rush after him but he's just too fast. "Gojo Satoru open this door!" you scream banging on the door. There is no answer. "Gojo please come out it's ok I'm not angry." you plead in a gentle voice. There is still no answer so you turn back to the three teens. "What happened here it looks like a bomb went off?" you ask the children to elaborate. "Well we were trying to help him pick something out, but the more we picked things out the more stressed he got." Nobara sighs. Then Megumi chimes in "Since he got more stressed he started to stress eat his whole pantry that consists only of sweets."

You nod for them to continue. Yuuji raises his hand and explains "And then he freaked out and put himself in that corner. I tried to talk him down but-" a mouth appears on Yuuji's face. "But he just sat in the corner and whined like a baby." Sakuna finishes. Things were finally making sense. "Ok, kids you guys should go home it's late I'll take care of Gojo." you conclude. The three look at eachother and nod they say their thanks and apologies and leave. Now all the was left was to talk a twenty-eight year old man into leaving his bathroom.

"Gojo come on out now your students are gone." You say. "No, I don't wanna." Gojo mutters back. "Please do it for me." You plead. You wait a few moments but there is still no answer. You sigh and start picking up the mess that was left everywhere. After some cleaning you hear a faint click and the creak of the bathroom door. You look at him and you've never seen him more flustered in your life. He was blushing hard and avoiding your eyes.

"Hi." you say smiling gently at him. "Hi." Gojo grumbles back. "Did you get this worked up just for me?" you tease gently. His face turns redder "It's your fault for making me feel this way." Gojo pouts. You just chuckle in response. "Come on let's go out." you say. "Is there anyplace still open?" Gojo asks. "Well there has to be some place, let's go." you smile at Gojo and drag him along.

The two of you stumble across a bar. It's well lit and seems pretty decent. Both of you walk inside and take a seat on two bar stools. You wave down the bartender "Could I have a daiquiri please. What do you want Gojo." you ask him nudging shoulder. "I want a pina colada." Gojo says begrudgingly. You remember Gojo is famously a lightweight drinker one of his few flaws. You take note that you have to remember to watch him if he gets a little tipsy.

You and Gojo talk for a while and the alcohol seems to have loosened him up. The two of you were laughing and joking. Then a man walks up behind you and starts rubbing your shoulders. "Hey baby, how'd you like to make my night?" the man asks. You cringe and slap his arms away. "No thanks." you say trying to be a little considerate of the people around you to not make a scene. "C'mon don't be a bitch!" he growls and reaches his hands towards you.

Gojo grabs and pulls you out of the man's reach. You can tell Gojo is a little drunk because of the way he's swaying slightly. And since Gojo is so drunk he just says whatever comes to mind and it happens to be "Fuck you, you fugly bitch! You don't deserve her! The only one good enough for her is me the honoured one!" Gojo rambles. The other man becomes red hot with rage, but before he can connect a punch Gojo flicks him on the forehead and falls over.

You decide to make yourselves scarce and rush out of the bar after paying your tab. You run all the way to Gojo's apartment dragging him along behind you. Once inside you fall on the floor from exhaustion. "You're so out of shape. You're still cute though." Gojo giggles. "Thanks for helping me back there I hate when that happens." you sigh. Gojo's posture stiffens "Does that happen often?" he asks. "Well y'know it's common for every girl." you shrug.

"Knowing that makes me want to lock you up here forever. Then I wouldn't have to share!" Gojo says in a sing song voice. You felt in your gut that he was serious, but it didn't really scare you. "If you stay loyal to me you'll have me forever. Wouldn't you like that?" you coo placing your hand on his cheek. He leans in to kiss you and you let him. Both of your faces are red when you pull away. "I'd like that alot." he whisperes.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x you #gojou satoru #gojou x y/n #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #nobara kugisaki #fanfiction #fanfic #jjk x reader

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hardskz · 4 years

Text

bow down.

pairing — bang chan x genderneutral! reader

genre — modern royalty au, drama-ish, smut; sexual tension-ish, hand kink, brat tamer! chan, degradation, leg humping, humiliation

synopsis — you have eyes. prince bang chan is a whole snack. but you also have too high of an ego and can’t seem to accept that prince chan isn’t full of himself unlike the other dozen members of any royal family you’ve met before. alternatively, this is the disney channel movie ‘princess protection program’ but make it porn only.

note — this fic with a wc of 7k+ does not include any spoilers to the movie and you don’t even have to know what the movie is about you’ll get the gist as you read. ngl half of this is from one of my drafts from like 3 years ago and i never continued it so here i am turning it into filth hahahah (and i needed a fresh idea for brat tamer chan and hence why i think the sfw part is better written than the nsfw lmao) rip also pls accept this as the follower milestone gift and 1 year anniversary special :’)

“I’m pretty sure I asked for a puppy for my birthday — which was three months ago may I add — not for a new roommate?”

You look back and forth between Youngjae and the stranger sitting on the couch who is staring back at you with a curious expression. He looks around your age and you admit, his face isn’t the kind of face that makes you thank your parents that genetics did a decent job on you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.

His face is the type of face that makes you ask your parents why genetics didn’t do a better job on yours. Okay, you haven’t reached that stage of visual inferiority yet but that’s mainly because he is dressed in clothes that were trendy in the 15th century or something. The garments clinging to his skin look like a bad fusion of a suit (which college student wears a suit in their free time?) and the ridiculous costume the marching band at your former high school had worn whenever a football game was up. And those weird golden pins clipped on the blazer makes it seem as if he used to be in the marines or comes from a royal bloodline or—

Oh.

“Don’t mind my cousin, your Highness. (y/n)’s humor has always been questionable.” Youngjae sends you a glare before he puts on his sweetest smile — you know, the act he puts on whenever he tries to negotiate a bonus with his boss or woo his date — and opts to ignore your presence. “Anyway, since we are dealing with a more serious issue at hand than originally expected, we need to give you a makeover to—“

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you violently tug him away from the prince and despite Youngjae thrashing around and complaining, you manage to send the guest a forced smile and leave his vision. The moment you let go of Youngjae in the neighboring room, he readjusts his collar. “What? Couldn’t you have waited once I was done? Also, was it necessary to crinkle my collar this much?” he hisses but you get straight to the point.

“What is he doing here?”

“Uh, sitting on the couch?”

“That’s not what I mean.” you grit your teeth and land a punch on his arm. “What is he doing here?”

Youngjae looks over your shoulder, making sure that what he’s about to say next is only heard by you. “Prince Chan is,” he hesitates, unsure how to approach his topic. You know it’s taking up his last nerves to conclude a logical explanation as the tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips; a habit he has adapted ever since he stopped chewing on his bottom lip. “The predicament he’s in is worse than we expected. Well, his dad is partially at fault because he forgot to tell us this not-so-small critical detail that—“

“Youngjae, you’re rambling.”

“The point is.” he sighs and gives you a distressed look as if he already knows you’re not going to like the information at all. “We can’t send him to the family in Goyang, the place he was originally going to stay in. He’s one of the more extreme cases and the Board agreed that he had to live with one of the active combatants to ensure his safety.”

Silence engulfs the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for you to count two and two together.

“He’s going to live here,” you deadpan eventually and Youngjae nods in confirmation.

“I know you’re not very happy—“

“Not very happy is underwhelming.” You earn a flick against your forehead and yelp in pain as you over the spot he just hit. “Ow! I was just stating the truth!”

“Will you stop interrupting me? Geez. Yes, I know that you’re not happy at all. I know that you’re not a huge fan of the majority of our family working in this business. But please do me this one favor or so help me God— try to be nice to him for the next year.”

“He’s staying for a year?” you shriek and in the blink of an eye, Youngjae clamps your mouth shut.

“Can you keep it down?!” he whisper-yells, then retreats his hand and reverts to a conversational tone with a frown. “It’s just a year, okay? Y’know, just... say hi to him whenever you see him. Act civilized.”

You grimace as he stresses his last words like you didn’t know what human decency was. The longer you keep the petrified expression on your face, the more it turns into a staring contest between the two of you. Just as if you were each other’s reflection, you mimic his actions and vice versa. When Youngjae squints, you squint. When you shoot him a glare, he returns it. It all boils down to the final blink that Youngjae feints and you’re the first to look away.

“Okay fine! I’ll try to behave,” you mumble in defeat.

A satisfied smile makes its way on Youngjae’s lips. “It’s always nice negotiating with you.”

Being born into a family where the majority works for the royalty protection program (short: RPP or as you like to stylize it: argh-pee-pee), also known as the secret service for people with crowns on their heads, comes with many perks. In your eyes, this privilege comes with many, many downsides that aren’t worth the advantages. Sure, there is the one or other occasion where you can waltz around in fancy evening attire and attend an actual ball, but overall, it’s a pain in the ass.

Even though it’s prohibited to openly declare that you work for the RPP, the news always finds its way out. Usually, it takes approximately a week for pretty much half of the neighborhood to find out. And it certainly isn’t nice hearing whispers about your dad being that guy working for the program whenever you step out of your house, which is ultimately why you moved in with your cousin Youngjae. (Housing in your small town wasn’t really affordable for a dirt poor college student after all!)

Youngjae has always been your favorite cousin out of the... whatever number of cousins you have. But here’s the thing. He also works for the RPP.

However, somehow he managed to — and up to this day it still remains a mystery to you how on earth he did that — keep his job a secret. Especially with his tendency to dish out the worst kinds of secrets when he’s slightly tipsy. Frankly, you once considered printing out the image of a trophy for that remarkable feat.

With your dad and cousin both active in that business (because organization sounds too shady), it’s not the first time you meet a prince, so you already know how the entire thing works. The concept is quite simple; they get sent to a household but before they settle in and take on a fake identity until their circumstances have improved, they undergo a makeover. Most of the time, it ends up in the glow up you secretly crave but in Prince Chan’s case, you suppose he can’t get any more attractive.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

You’re busy slicing bell peppers for the meal you were cooking when both your cousin and the prince enter the kitchen and Youngjae explicitly demands you to pay them attention. You don’t react immediately, but the moment he threatens to swipe the knife away from you, you perk up and set your desire to prepare your fried rice aside.

“(y/n), uh, hi? I’m Bang Chan and I’ll be your new housemate for a year. I hope we can get along.” Chan recites his introduction without any mistakes and earns a way too brotherly pat on the back from Youngjae, considering that they just met this morning. It’s truly amazing how fast Youngjae can get people to warm up to him.

Chan is stripped out of his weird clothes and instead, looks like he threw on the next best thing lying around in his room. Nonetheless, despite the seemingly little effort that was put into the outfit, it looks oddly good. The stylists didn’t seem to do much to his hair and just parted his bangs a little, so one could catch a slight glimpse of his forehead. It’s just a small detail, but you find yourself liking his current appearance much more appealing than before, though you’re pretty sure his clothes played a major part in your previous distaste.

“Remember Jihyo?” Youngjae interrupts your train of thought. “She’s Chan’s relative. And because I’m the genuine friend who loves to help her out, I decided to agree to this after she went down on her knees and begged me to let Chan live with us for a while—“

“I’m not interested in your blown up, fictional background stories, thank you very much.” you backtrack. “Wait. Did you say Jihyo? Seriously? Jihyo is his alibi?” Of course, you remember Jihyo. It’s quite difficult to forget her when Youngjae used to swoon about her at every hour of the day, back when they were a thing. Besides, she still stops by every few months.

“C’mon, you have to admit there is a similar vibe between them!”

You furrow your brows and inspect Chan a second time. Your gaze wanders back to Youngjae and then returns to Chan anew. It’s obvious that the latter is feeling as if he were up for auction and you can’t really blame him for feeling so uncomfortable. You’ve heard from a few friends that if looks could kill, you’d have the highest killing record.

There’s no similar vibe in your view, but for the sake of entertaining Youngjae’s thoughts: “He does seem similar to Jihyo.”

“Told ya. But back to more important matters,” Youngjae coughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but it somehow seems as if he’s opting to strangle you. “My duties are calling, so I won’t be back until late. You look like you could need some help with cooking, by the way. I’m sure Chan right here is willing to help you!”

“I’m almost done though—“ you choke when he tightens his embrace. By now, his arm is no longer hugging your shoulder, but rather crushing your throat.

“You look like you could need some help,” he repeats, this time with added urgency. “It’d be a great opportunity for you to bond since you’ll also share pretty much all classes at uni. Did you know, he has the same major as you! Besides, it’d be a very useful life experience for him if he helped you with cooking.”

“Of course, how fun!” you hiss, voice going an octave higher from the lack of oxygen. “I already said that I’m painfully delighted about that, so you can let me go now, Youngjae!”

A sneer and a jab in his arm later, Youngjae finally takes his leave. That nasty liar, leaving an hour earlier than his schedule stated. You know that silently cursing at him isn’t going to make your problems dissolve because that’d be a dream come true.

“Listen, let me get things straight.” you sigh, picking up the knife to resume chopping your vegetables. Youngjae may have ordered you to act civilized, but having eye contact with Chan when you’ve been starving for the past hour isn’t your priority. Food doesn’t make itself. “I don’t have any intention of getting close to you and I expect the same from you. Don’t step a foot into my room, don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary, and don’t think I’ll run around and do your chores or cook your meals like one of your little servants. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’ll be treated like one under this roof.”

“We live in the 21st century, not the renaissance. Your idea of royal families is very dated.” Chan chuckles dryly.

“Baron Yoon Jeonghan from the seven islands is a stuck-up prick and out of touch with the world. It took him several visits to the slums, multiple voluntary hours at the kindergarten, and stripping him off his bank card to make him see reason,” you deadpan. Fuck Baron Jeonghan. Just thinking about your first and last encounter with that entitled douchebag almost makes you slice your finger instead of the bell pepper. “Duchess Yoo Shiah threw a hissy fit when she found out her clothes weren’t dry cleaned and bought from Zara instead of fucking Dior. The one who takes the cake when it comes to privilege is Princess Kim Min—”

“Everyone knows they are problematic,” Chan interjects. True, he has a point. There’s nobody out there who doesn’t know about Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah but he’s also missing the entire point.

“And guess who gets stuck under the care of the RPP?” you raise a brow at him. He blanches at the realization as if he got struck with lightning. Perhaps you should give him more credit because he seems to own more brain cells than Baron Jeonghan. “Exactly. Everyone problematic.”

Chan’s jaw is clenched as he racks his brain to come up with a smart comeback. The sight of him stumbling on his words is nothing but pitiful, so you turn back to the cutting board and grab an onion to slice in half. “I’m not interested in your sob story, your Highness. I don’t care why you’re under the protection of the RPP. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my business.”

“Chan is fine. No need for the title,” he sighs with a strain. “Perhaps I should’ve been more considerate with my first comment. Youngjae already told me about your… negative attitude towards the entire setup. It wasn’t my intention to anger you. Sorry.”

Well, that’s new. Out of the dozens of aristocrats you’ve met (and sadly also shared a house with back when you were 16 years old and still living with your dad), he’s the first to drop his title within five minutes for the sake of the disguise and apologize.

“We live under the same roof so we should get along with each other. If there’s something you need help with, just ask me, (y/n).”

“Thanks for the offer,” you reply nonchalantly because act civilized unless you want to suffer from a late-night sneak attack from Youngjae if he finds out. “But no thanks. I don’t need your help.”

You find yourself in need of help a few weeks later, right before the dreaded exam season.

“No. Forget it, Bam. I’m not going out clubbing with you tonight. In fact, I won’t do that anytime soon.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you try to break down to your friend that you prioritize your grades over his need of getting wasted.

“C’mon!” he whines so loudly that you have to put your phone farther away from your ear. “You’re not in that much stress yet! You have to make the most out of it before you drown in your exams.”

“Things are different for engineering students like, uh, me for example!” you hiss. “I fell behind and need to catch up. Ask Yugyeom or Changbin.”

“First of all, Yugyeom is always at the bar doing his job. And Changbin never picks up his phone. There’s nobody who’d dance with me!”

“You abandoned me at the bar for some chick the last time,” you deadpan. “I’m very sure you’ll find someone.”

Bambam finally gets the gist and gives up. “Fine then. Your loss. Have fun dying in numbers and variables instead of living in the moment. You’re going to regret it—”

You end the call and set your phone on mute before throwing it on the bed. Sometimes you wonder whether you were on drugs when you decided to major in engineering. The longer you stare at the jumble of numbers and letters — some of them in Greek too — the more you think your brain cells are decaying.

That’s how you find yourself in the kitchen, complaining at Youngjae’s expense and telling him how much you’d rather drown in bleach than subjecting yourself to Algebra II.

“You know there’s someone you can ask for help and he’s right here,” Youngjae drawls before chugging down the rest of his beer. If he’s going to be a victim to your temper tantrum about a major that you chose yourself, he might as well get a drink so he won’t go insane from your monologue about numbers and graphs and formulas he’s forgotten since he graduated from high school.

You gawk at him. “You? Are you hearing yourself? You almost failed maths. Twice!”

“Because I didn’t mean myself, dipshit,” he says blankly and his eyes flit over your shoulder, “Speaking of the devil. There comes the man of honor.”

You whip your head back to the door to see Chan enter confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Yes.”

“No, we were just talking about you!”

You send Youngjae a death glare which he casually shrugs off. “(y/n) here is bitching about her Statistics I class and needs a tutor!”

“It’s actually Algebra II if you bothered to pay attention—”

“(y/n) needs a tutor!” Youngjae exclaims and nearly trips on his feet when he gets up from his chair. “Channie, I heard you’re good with numbers. Didn’t you get accepted into all Ivy Leagues in the States for all engineering programs?”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Chan laughs it off and nervously rubs the back of his head. He’s not denying it though.

“Obviously he would. He’s loaded and lives in a castle,” you mutter under your breath, but everyone catches it.

“Hey,” Youngjae warns. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s alright,” Chan says casually. “I just wanted to get myself a snack. But if you have some questions, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. The offer still stands, y’know.” He digs through the cabinet until he finds two packs of the strawberry flavored Pocky knockoff that is 1) apparently his favorite thing to eat and 2) half the price of the Pocky version. He gives Youngjae a thumbs up before he returns to his room.

The moment Chan is out of sight, Youngjae whips his head to you, nostrils flaring. All that’s missing is steam coming out of his ears and his face running red and then he looks like the impetuous brother in every kids cartoon ever. “Really? He’s been staying with us for how long now? Four weeks? Five? Yet you’re still acting as if he murdered you in your dreams or something.”

“I don’t like him,” you state coldly. Youngjae looks like he’s about to rip his hair out.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me being active in this field of work, and I get that you have some hatred against the royal families. But you know you signed up for this when you decided to move in with me.” Youngjae pauses to get a breather and pop a new beer bottle open. “Besides, Chan isn’t like Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah. I have eyes, (y/n), and I’ve seen you two avoiding each other as much as possible. And he doesn’t just laze around — he does the fucking chores and cooks dinner too! Chan is good, (y/n).”

The last words make you snap. “Good? Are you fucking serious? Because that’s why the press in his kingdom is depicting him as a tyrant who cares more about building his sick harem instead of helping the poor. And wasn’t he diagnosed for having anger management issues?!”

All the color leaves Youngjae’s face. This is obviously something you shouldn’t know. While he’s scrambling for words, you take the chance to add, “Dunno why you’re protecting him when he’s making headlines as a prince who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Chan isn’t just a prince,” Youngjae says quietly. “He’s the crown prince.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “What? Isn’t that even worse with that reputation he has?”

“It’s all propaganda,” he sighs and takes a swig, “The ministers are doing everything they can to finish him off. You see, Chan is the only child of the current king of the seven islands, and if he’s wiped out, it’ll be utter chaos. Chan’s smart and I admit, he used to have anger issues, but he’s worked on them. Though I guess he’s resorted to bottling up his feelings when push comes to pull. The point is, all the higher-ups don’t want him as their future king because they know that Chan is very much capable of pulling through with his own ideas and that doesn’t sit well with them. And a supposedly impulsive future king is the last thing anyone wants, hence why his people are eating up the news.”

“Oh.” you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. However, it’s not the first time you’ve heard such stories.

“Yeah. Oh,” Youngjae mocks, “If that’s the main reason why you don’t want to talk to him, now you know better. He might have power, but he’s not a monster. And for the record, he got into all Ivy Leagues and elite schools all over the world through his intelligence, not his status.”

Although you can see it in his eyes that Youngjae is done with the heated discussion, he’s still waiting for you to say something. You frown. “So… you think he’s a good tutor?”

“He’s your only shot.” Youngjae says nonchalantly, then adds with a warning tone, “But remember: Act. Civilized. Oh, and don’t tell him I told you about his circumstances. It’s supposed to be confidential information.”

You roll your eyes. How the fuck hasn’t Youngjae been busted yet?

Nonetheless, you’re trudging to Chan’s door a few minutes later, your fat binder of incomprehensible math formulas and (Greek) letter heavy in your arm. Chan opens the door with surprise etched on his face after you knocked, but it settles to warmth when you begrudgingly ask him to help you understand Algebra II.

“Sorry, it’s a little messy here,” he chuckles airily once he lets you in. It’s not messy per se, just a few clothes piled up in a corner of the room and some books and messily written notes lying on his bed. Still, it’s by far cleaner than the pig stall that is Youngjae’s room (and yours when you’re having a very bad day).

Chan clears his desk and drags his other chair to the table before plopping down on it. “So, what’s the problem?” Instead of answering, you just shove a sheet of paper up his face. “Y’know, you can talk to me. If this is about earlier, it’s really alright. I’m not mad or anything,” he says with the same friendly tone you’ve been hearing ever since he moved in, yet he still takes the sheet from you. You watch his brows scrunch together the more he reads on, and you can already see the question forming in his mind.

“(y/n), you do know this is the basis to understand—”

“I was absent when the professor covered it and everyone I asked couldn’t quite explain it to me,” you respond before he can finish speaking out his thoughts. “All my friends were like—” you gesture with your hands, “—you just do this and that and then hope your hunch is right. Before you say it, yes I know that I don’t get the material of one entire unit and the exam is two weeks away.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Chan says before grabbing his iPad. You stare at him blankly as he writes something on his tablet. The last thing you expected from him was to accept it and try to hammer as much of missing information as he can into your brain, but then again, you’ve never seen him backtrack whenever Youngjae asks him something. Speaking of Youngjae, perhaps he is right. Chan does seem to know what he’s talking about.

“You have to subtract X first, then replace it with Y,” he explains as he circles said letters in different colors. By now, you’ve leaned closer to him to get a better view on what he’s writing (his handwriting isn’t the worst you’ve ever had to decode; refer to Youngjae who you’ve internally awarded with the worst handwriting of the decade).

Chan is exceptionally good at explaining. You feel like you’ve figured out a secret of the world that not even Pythagoras found out as you slowly understand what on Earth you are supposed to calculate with the formula. Chan is patient, always asking if you got it or if you needed another clarification, and takes the time to draw colorful graphs to visualize the jumble of numbers. His voice is pleasing to the ear too, soft and gentle to the point where you’ve blurred everything out except Chan. Chan’s voice. Chan’s hand.

You didn’t mean to stare, but with him always adding something new every five seconds as he goes on with his monologue, you can’t help but do so. His fingers aren’t long — that’ll always be courtesy of Hyunjin from Subway and yes, his very pretty hands might be the sole reason you only insist on going to that one specific Subway at the intersection next to KFC — but just one glance at Chan’s hand and you know that he’s strong.

He’s barely applying pressure to the pen, but you can see the veins slightly protruding. Chan’s sleeves are pushed back and if you move your head a bit, you’re more than certain that veins are bulging out from his forearms too. However, you don’t muster up the courage to do that because Chan will definitely notice and the last thing you want on your platter is to tell him that you were too busy checking out his arms instead of listening to him talk about Algebra II.

Eventually, Chan sets the pen down to stretch his hand. He says something, but you don’t pick up what exactly. Not that it’d matter much anyway since you’re too busy admiring his hand—

“(y/n), you there? I called out your name several times but you didn’t react.” Chan’s breath hitches and surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second when his gaze meets yours. You don’t understand his hesitation, but then horror bubbles in you once you realize that his hand is firmly gripping your chin and keeping your head pointed at his direction. The very same hand you’ve been staring at for God knows how long.

“I’m good. Just a little tired, but I’m good,” you stutter, though it comes out very breathlessly as if you just finished a marathon.

“Tired?” Chan echoes, concern settling into his features. “You should’ve said so, then I would’ve stopped talking. You need something?”

Now that you think about it, you’ve never got a close look at Chan. Sure, he’s handsome, the countless pictures of Google prove that he’s also too photogenic for his own good (goddamnit, why didn’t your parents make you just as photogenic?) but in person, he’s something else. His lips are plush and look very inviting to kiss, and the lower your eyes wander, the more you see a toned chest hidden underneath that damn shit that hugs him in all the right places.

Fine, his hands aren’t the only attractive thing about him. Then again, he’s a prince.

“I said I’m good.” you snap out of your thoughts and finally gather enough control over your nerves to tear his hand away. “And I caught everything you said.” Of course, you know that’s a blatant lie and he knows so too from the way he’s looking at you. That is until he quirks a brow.

“Okay, then what did I say before I called you?”

Your mouth feels dry. It’s almost as if he knew the reason for your distress. “I caught everything relevant to this,” you mutter, suddenly finding his curtains much more interesting. What an interesting design, maybe you should get yourself new curtains too—

“Then you wouldn’t mind solving these questions, right? Just so I can make sure that you got everything down.”

“Sure,” you reply because that’s the only thing you could say without hurting your ego and straining your vocal cords. Chan doesn’t comment any further and looks for some practice questions before sliding the iPad to you. Already the first question makes your head spin in disdain. Numbers? Variables? Never heard of them.

Chan is watching you like a hawk as you fiddle with the pen, unable to write down anything that makes remote sense. Feeling his eyes on you makes you feel helpless and you shift around in your seat. “What are you staring at?” you glare at him once you give up for good, and you just hope that your look is as intimidating as you pictured in your head.

“You’re definitely exhausted. You’re shaking,” Chan points out. Your eyes widen as you stare down and realize that your thighs are shaking, and it’s then and there when you realize that you’re feeling hot. Seems like Chan doesn’t realize that because the worry written on his face is genuine. “You say the exam’s in two weeks right? We can stop for today and work on this tomorrow. That is if you still want my help.”

You nod and add in a tiny voice, “Yes, please.”

You’re too busy ignoring the heat building between your thighs to notice the borderline feral sound that leaves Chan.

“And here I thought you had quality bonding time.” Youngjae gives a disappointed look. “You’re acting even colder towards him than before your exam meltdown. Your prick level can only stoop down so low.”

You ended up getting tutor lessons from Chan every day before the dreaded day of judgment: the exam in Algebra II. You spent more hours in his room than on your own if you were completely honest, and the results were fruitful. While you did manage to pass the exam with a fairly high score, the price you had to pay was hell.

It’s almost as if Chan caught up on your hand fixation. Sometimes he twirled the pen in his fingers, sometimes it was the simple bracelet dangling on his wrist. Just when you thought he had you figured out, he asks you if you’re alright, visibly oblivious to his effect on you. Such duality in a person should be illegal, you conclude. If you die from whiplash, you know who the perpetrator is.

“You were the one who pretty much pressured me into asking him for help,” you drawl.

“I had good intentions only! You can’t keep up the I-hate-royal-families-blah-blah mentality the entire time!” Youngjae wails before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Watch me.” You internally cringe at the loud crunching sounds he’s making and add vigorously, “And stop chewing so loudly.”

“You’ll get around or so help me God—” he groans when his phone buzzes. He doesn’t spare a glance at the caller ID because there’s only one person who has set his ringtone to the baby shark song specifically for when he’s calling. “I gotta go, Jinyoung’s being a bitch again. Don’t murder somebody. Thanks.” You only watch him shuffle for his bag and grab a handful of chips before he’s out the door. Groaning, you clean up the mess he’s made on the table.

Just as you’re done wiping the crumbs off the surface, Chan pads into the room.

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I established right at the beginning that you should only talk to me when absolutely necessary.” you scowl, trying to walk past him.

“Well, this is important,” he urges and blocks the doorway, effectively stopping you from fleeing. “And I do deserve one conversation with you after I helped you out.”

“You offered on your own. That’s not the same as asking for a favor.” You successfully push your way past him, but in the next moment, he spins you around and pins you against the wall.

“We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not.” The sudden coldness of his tone has shivers running down your spine. Chan holds your wrist in an iron grip and if he clutched on any tighter, you wouldn’t put it past him to break your bones. Out of options, you comply and give him a curt nod before he lets go and takes a step back.

“I don’t understand you, (y/n). I genuinely thought you would put your prejudices aside but instead, all I get are mixed signals from you.”

It’s your turn to gawk. “Me? Mixed signals? What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you keep looking at me as if you want me to fuck your brains out.” If the color hasn’t drained from your face yet, it has now. Chan smiles wickedly at your horrified reaction but doesn’t stop there. “I’m talking about how you talk like you don’t want anything to do with me but act as if you’re begging for my attention.” He takes a step closer to you, and you wish you could morph with the wall. “I’m talking about how you keep staring at my hands and think I don’t notice it.” You wince when he rests his hands against the wall on each side of your face, leaning closer so that you can feel his breath on your lips. “So, you have a thing for my hands?” Bullseye.

“You’re so full of yourself. No wonder your ministers want to get rid of you,” you snap because you’d rather suffer from food poisoning than admitting that you want Chan’s fingers in you.

Something shifts within Chan. He gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to even know about the ministers. His demeanor darkens in a blink of an eye, and you feel like your legs are about to give up on you when you meet his eyes, black and feral.

“You’re playing with fire. Don’t anger me,” he warns, voice low and rough.

“So it’s true that you resorted to bottling up your feelings, your Highness?” you cock your head to the side. Chan clenches his jaw at the mention of his title, struggling to keep his anger in check. You laugh through your nose, then grab one of his hands and force it away from the wall. If he already knows that you’re thirsting after him, might as well go for it. “It’s funny how your ministers aren’t able to string you around like a puppet yet here you are, unable to do anything against a commoner. You know you have nice hands and you know my weakness and yet, you’re not using them on me.” He gulps when you fumble with his fingers.

And then he understands.

“Unless I misread the situation,” he says darkly, though you distinguish the slight tremor his voice carries. “Do you really want this? I’m not going to go easy on you.” Chan is dead serious, judging by the way he’s looking at you expectantly.

“The safe word is petunia.” You don’t take your eyes off him and add in a louder tone, “Now try me, do your worst.”

“You’re going to regret wanting me at my worst,” Chan growls and before you know it, he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but sweet, more of a clash of teeth and tongues and saliva dribbling down your chins, yet it leaves you boiling hot and wobbly on your feet. He presses you up against the wall and forces his leg between yours, the sudden contact making you hunch forward. You moan against his mouth when he tugs harshly on your hair, the sting making your nerves go haywire. In the meantime, your hands roam his upper body, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as you try to buck your hips against his leg. While he doesn’t budge, you manage to elicit a groan out of him.

When you pull away, you’re both gasping for air. Chan’s hair is disheveled from the way you’ve been pulling on them, lips pink and glossy. One look in his eyes is enough to make your heart stop beating. They’re dark and animalistic and set ablaze with unfiltered lust. You’re such in a daze from a simple kiss that you nearly stumble when Chan drags you to his room.

He manhandles you on his bed with ease before his lips latch on yours once more. You nearly sob when he rids you off your pants, putting pressure in all the right places to have you losing your mind. As you’re about to gain back some dominance in the kiss, he breaks it off. His fingers that were once ghosting over your underwear are now tracing patterns all over the material, making you spasm. “You’re such a brat, all bark but no bite. All it takes is one kiss and you’ve lost all your fight. Can you get any more pathetic?” he mocks as he focuses his fingertips directly on the wet patch of your underwear. Your eyes roll back as he rubs on the same spot, the broken moans leaving you eerily similar to cries. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come like this. How sensitive are you?”

“Am n-not—” you cut yourself off with a whimper when he lets the waistband snap against your skin.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he grins and that’s when you break, feeling your high approaching at lightning speed.

“Don’t wanna come like this—”

“But I thought you’re not sensitive?” the satisfied grin just widens with every syllable that leaves his lips. “If you don’t want to come like this, all over your underwear, beg.”

Chan applies even more force to your sensitive spots, and you struggle to have a clear thought. The smirk he delivers is lethal, and you couldn’t be any more convinced that he’s the devil’s incarnate.

“I’ll do anything, please. Don’t let me come like this, that’s all I’m a-aah-asking for,” you weep, your blood nearly boiling at its climax, “I’ll even take a punishment!”

“Say my name,” he orders, fingers still drawing circles.

“Your—”

“My name, not my title.”

Your breath hitches as you finally realize what he’s aiming for. He wants you to remember that it’s him who’s reducing you into this illiterate mess. Him, the one you’ve been despising since before you even met. If you still had any ounce of dignity left, you’d try to fix the power imbalance until you’re left with no choice but to obey, but now you’re so close and the last thing you want to do is come with your pants on.

“Please, Chan,” your voice breaks towards the end and in an instant, he pulls away. As you’re letting you’re basking in the break from his brutal tempo, not too affected by how your upcoming orgasm is fading away, Chan observes you.

And then out of nowhere, he flips you on your stomach and delivers a hard smack to your ass that has you screaming into the pillows.

“You said you’d take any punishment too, right?” You twitch as he rubs the small of your back. You can already imagine the handprints on your ass he continued to slap you with such force that has you moving up the bed. The pain that’s going to haunt you for days. Before you know it, you try to arch your back to lift your ass, but then the bed shifts. “But if you really think I’m going to spank you as a punishment, then you’re really fucking dumb. As if I’ll use my hands on you when we both know you love my hands.”

With that, he drops himself on his chair, spreading his legs that you can see the prominent tent forming in his pants. He orders you over with a flick of his finger, and just as you get up from the bed, a new wave of horror flushes over you.

“Crawl.”

The look you send him is priceless. There’s no fucking way you can do it. It’s just a few meters, nothing you can’t handle, but he’s there sitting on his Ikea swivel chair as if it’s his throne made of gold, watching your every movement like a predator. And then there’s you, only in a shirt and underwear, being forced to go on all fours as if you were his fucking dog—

The difference in power display couldn’t get any more visible. He really is the fucking worst.

“You’d really do anything, huh…” he muses as you drop on your hands and knees and crawl to him, never looking up. It’s only when he beckons you to stand up that you look at him with nothing but rage and shame in your eyes. Chan has always been slightly terrified with your death stare but right now, he can’t take it seriously and it shows. It shows in the way he smiles lopsidedly, in the way his brows quirk in amusement. “Now hump my leg.”

Humiliation runs through your body all over. Your fists are clenched as he waits for you to act, even pats his thigh in case you didn’t get the memo. But oh you do, and his thigh does look inviting.

“Hump my leg like the brainless bitch you are. If you want my hands or my cock, you earn it first. Especially since you treated me like shit ever since I moved in.” The last sentence burns you badly because he has a point. But then there’s the prospect of his hands and dick that’s bulging out of his pants.

Pushing all thoughts away, you settle on his leg. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you tell yourself it’s all good and then you move. The first thrust knocks all air out of your lungs and you grab onto his shoulders for support. You didn’t even move that much, but Chan’s looking at you as if he’s about to fucking devour you and knowing that he is very much capable of moving you around, you’re starting to become overwhelmed.

Eventually, you lose yourself in the feeling of his rough jeans against your drenched underwear, humping on his thigh as your orgasm builds up. It’s silent, save for your pants, and the countless whimpers flying past your lips as your movements gradually become sloppier. You’re almost there and you know it. But so does Chan, and the moment he’s got it figured out, he lunges from your hips and forces you to pick up the pace.

“Oh no, you’re going to come,” he growls, ignoring your pleas and sobs. Adrenaline courses in your blood and you know it isn’t long until you fall apart. You try to make him stop, even put your hands on his, but you don’t have the energy to actively push him away.

“Chan, please— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come? Then fucking come on my thigh, (y/n),” he snaps, and then adds, “You hear that? You’re about to come from humping my thigh.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he’s right, maybe it’s the way he’s worded it. Either way, it’s the last straw to make you spasm as you come, soaking your underwear and even managing to make a mess out of his pants. Chan makes sure you ride through your orgasm, only stopping to move your hips once you’re all spent and resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, vision foggy, but the only thing you can envision clearly is Chan.

Chan jolts when your hand grazes over his bulge. You’re about to undo his pants, but he’s quick to stop you and restrict your hands behind your back.

“You think you deserve my cock? Dream on. As if I would fuck any commoner, especially those who don’t respect me,” he spits, and you flinch at his choice of words, clearly recalling that you used the exact same terms and he’s now using it against you. “You said you’d take any punishment. Well, guess what? This was just punishment number one.”

#yes the ending is rushed oops sue me #may consider part 2 so heads up #stray kids smut #skz smut #bang chan smut #chan smut #smut.mine #dom!chan #sub!reader #crispy.txt

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jvnghxope · 4 years

Text

jamais vu; memory

part one;

◦ pairing: Hoseok | reader | Taehyung

◦ genre: vamipire au, smut, angst

◦ word count: 13.9k+

◦ warnings: dark themes; mentions of blood and death; vampire compulsion and manipulation; blood consumption; alcohol consumption; hallucinations; strong language; dry humping (sort of), this chapter doesn’t have smut but the next one will!

◦ abstract: In a time when vampires are the most despised creatures in the world, Jung Hoseok finds himself falling in love with a human. Would his love be enough to protect her from the war that is about to begin?

⇥ Sequel to Dalliance; part of the In the Shadows universe.

↳ chapters: prologue | memory | remedy | melody

Jung Hoseok stared at the invitation far too long.

The reason? It had his name and his name only. Which was surprising. He is used to standing behind the shadow that is the Jung Family. He is the youngest son after all, with only 215 years old.

He has a mission. A mission that was assigned to him by the Elders, which is a great honor. There is a rumor flowing around the Shadow World: a group of humans knew about the existence of vampires (if they knew about the existence of other shadow folks, it was a mystery) and they are slowly uniting to hunt them down. The Elders didn’t give it much of a thought at first. Vampires are stronger and faster than any human after all. There was nothing to worry about, they thought. Not until they found dead bodies of their kind. That is concerning. There are more humans in the world than vampires. Now that they knew how to kill them, their chance to win a fight was not impossible.

His mission is pretty simple: infiltrate inside the organization, investigate their plan and ruin them from within. How? The rumors say Lord Kim was behind all of it. It is his job to know if that piece of information is true and get to the good side of his younger daughter.

The journey to the Kim Manor from his Family's old home is relatively short, as both of the families lived in the same area of the city. The moment his carriage clattered into the ground of the entryway of the manor, his eyes widened. The Victorian building is surrounded by beautiful Italian gardens and greek gods in statues.

The vehicle stops with a jolt. A well-dressed servant opened the door to ease Hoseok out of the carriage. He thanked the peon with a nod. The main entrance is displayed before him. Enormous marble stairs led to a hallway, illuminated with lights made of silver and glass. The natural light of the sun was going down as the dawn took place. It is a beautiful sight, he has to recognize that.

The carriages drove away, led by a horseman, to a place they could wait for their masters.

Hoseok follows the people towards the entrance. The excited whispers of the attendees arrived in Hoseok's ears. A ball at the Lord’s Manor is something worthy to remember and the event of the year. Everyone is wearing their best clothes. Dresses made of taffeta, silk, and velvet, and tailored suits.

It’s the first time he is surrounded by a big crowd of humans. All their emotions come colliding towards him. It took a little while for him to shut them down. His powers are one of the main reasons he enjoyed being in solitude every once in a while. For some reason, human emotions are stronger than any other shadow folk. Being surrounded by a big quantity of humans is exhausting, to say the least.

Two corpulent men opened the big wooden doors and one by one, the guests entered the manor. In the entry, a group of men is slowly forming a line near a small room, where two young men received their coats, hats, and canes and gave them a label with a number.

A beautiful lady with a red dress led the guests through a corridor to the ballroom. It is the biggest room in the manor. Big golden chandeliers illuminated the room, giving it a golden light. Three of the four walls had large tables with white silk tablecloths, full of delicacies and the most exotic drinks.

Upon his arrival to the city, he made some of his peons spread the word that a new wealthy bachelor was in town. That’s how he got his invitation. As he strolls around, Hoseok could hear how the people are whispering about him. They don’t recognize his face, but they know who he was. The town is not relatively small, but wealthy people knew each other. Hoseok is a foreigner in their world.

A round of applause sounded when the Lord made his entry, his beautiful wife clutched by his arm and his firstborn, Kim Namjoon, walking behind them. The Lord gives a speech, thanking the attendees at the 22nd birthday of his daughter, the smallest of his children. To be honest, Hoseok didn’t pay too much attention to the Lord, instead choosing to finish his tasteless champagne and let his eyes wander around the room, rather bored. Then, his eyes fell on you, and wow.

And he’d be damned. You are the Lord’s daughter.

The Elders mentioned something about your beauty, but seeing it with his own eyes is something else. It is impossible to believe you are a mortal. Any in the Shadow World could easily mistake you for a vampire. Maybe even a fairy too. You are standing there, with your head held high as all the eyes in the room are laid on you. A smile bright enough to illuminate an entire city and a beautiful green dress hugging your frame. Hoseok couldn’t help but stare in pure awe at you. And he was not the only one. You had the power to draw the attention of everyone in the room. Subconsciously, he notices you opening your mouth. You are saying something. Words that don't reach Hoseok’s ears, too immersed in you.

Hoseok shakes his head the moment he saw people approaching you. To clear his mind, he takes one of the snacks that looked somewhat tasty and ends in one gulp of the contents of his glass.

“Jung Hoseok.”

He is surprised to hear his name and surprised even more to see a familiar face behind the voice.

“Taehyung," he greets.

His old friend grins, “I know I will hate the answer, but I’ll ask anyway. What are you doing here?”

“I’m guessing I am not the first one the Elders sent, right?”

Taehyung chuckles. “They sent me a month ago,” he confesses.

“What did you use as cover?”

“I used compulsion. They believe I am the son of a distant family friend that just returned to the city,” Taehyung replies with a sly smile. “I suppose I am not doing a good job if they sent you.”

Hoseok snorts. “They are getting desperate.”

“And they should. Things are worse than we’ve imagined.”

“Did you discover something new?” Hoseok asks, taking another cup of champagne.

Taehyung scans the room as he feigned drinking from his cup, making sure there was no one in ear-shot. “They have new allies,” he informs.

“Who?”

Taehyung turns to his friend. Hoseok doesn’t need to use his ability to understand how bad this. He can perceive Taehyung’s worry behind his perfectly collected smile. “Werewolves.”

With his eyes, Taehyung points to one of the guests. Hoseok follows, only to find a young man talking to no other than Lord Kim himself. Hoseok’s jaw clenches, “The Jeons.”

One of the oldest werewolf families and an enemy to vampires.

“Have you informed it yet?” Hoseok asks. The Jeon boy is now talking to Namjoon.

“Not yet. I am close to being invited to the group. My every move is being monitored.”

“The dog didn't recognize you?" Hoseok mocked.

At that, Taehyung laughed. “We haven’t crossed pads. But he is young. I don’t think he could recognize a Pureblood if he wanted to.” They share a laugh.

Hoseok manages to keep his eyes out of you for almost an hour, talking to Taehyung, making fun of werewolves, and catching up. It is like a little escape from the reality they are currently living. Like the old times, when things were less complicated. But you are a magnet and his eyes can’t help but look at you every once in a while.

"Should I introduce myself?" Hobi asks his best friend out of nowhere. He takes his 15th cup of the night (or was it the 16th? He can’t tell) as he waits for an answer. Human alcohol is not supposed to affect him, but he feels a little tipsy.

With cheeks flushed, Taehyung turns to look at him, “Who?”

“Ms. Kim.”

“Ahh,” Taehyung nods. “If you want to… Be my guest. But be careful. There are eyes and ears everywhere. But there’s something a need to tell you first-"

"Mr. Jung," a voice says.

His heart jumps at the sound of his name, and when he turns around, you are standing in front of him.

Hoseok never stood up too fast (humanly possible, of course), "Ms. Kim."

Wow, you are more beautiful up close. Your eyes look so bright the stars would be jealous. The color of your dress and the candlelight make your skin glow beautifully. Then, your scent fills his nostrils and his throat goes dry. Intoxicating and addictive. It makes his head spin. He gets why Taehyung wanted to warn him: you are dangerous… and somehow he doesn’t find himself to care at all.

“I believe we are not properly introduced,” you add with a smile.

“My apologies,” Hoseok bows slightly and outstretches his arm. Taking your hand in his, he gives it a little peck. Your skin feels so soft against his palm. “My name is Jung Hoseok.”

“Is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jung. Thank you so much for coming to my ball.”

“I guess I should thank you instead, for inviting a total stranger.”

You giggle and it is a melody he doesn’t want to forget. “There are a lot of strangers here.”

Hoseok opens his mouth, the perfect retort in the tip of his tongue and-

“___?” Kim Namjoon interrupted. “Father is looking for you.” Namjoon didn’t bother to look at Hoseok’s way, which he finds incredibly offensive. But wait, why does he care?

You nod at your brother but your eyes never leave Hoseok.

“Well, Mr. Jung, it was nice to meet you. I hope we can talk again sometime. Maybe over a cup of coffee.”

“It will be my pleasure,” Hoseok replies with a bow.

And you disappear with your brother through the crowd.

You hate these types of parties. They are full of shallow people. They give you the attention you didn’t want and being your birthday is the cherry on the cake. People are there more because of your father rather than because of you. It is something you are used to. People surrounding you because of your father’s power.

Your brother isn't of help, either. According to the girls your mother made you drink tea two times a week, he is handsome and the best gentleman they could ask for. And as much as you believe every word, you are also sure they only wanted him because he would inherit the royal title of the family and a couple of millions. They are nice to you only because you were his sister.

"Are you using your mountain ash necklace?" Is the question of your father the moment you arrived where he was and you reply with a nod. "Good. Those bloodsuckers could be anywhere."

“Dad...”

“Also,” it is like you didn’t talk at all. “I made some pawns fill the champagne with mountain ash, too. Open your eyes for the symptoms.”

“What symptoms?”

“This is like poison to all the monsters out there. If you see something suspicious –”

"–Honey, we're celebrating your daughter's birthday,” your mother grimaces. “Keep that stuff to your reunions." Then, she turned to you, "Sweetie, it's time to open the dance floor." She delivers a kiss to your cheek and urged you to enter the dance floor, where the guests are waiting with inquisitive stares.

It is a tradition in the royal families when a lady turned 21 to dance with all the bachelors. Like a greeting to society, the part you are anticipating the less. You are about to dance with a bunch of strangers you are not interested in at all.

With a forced smile, you compel yourself to walk across the room to the center of the circle the guests just made for you. A man is already waiting for you. The heir of the Jeon Family: Jeon Yongmin.

Great. He is currently the favorite of your parents to bethrow you into marriage. You can't complain, though. He is attractive (really, really attractive), he will inherit a fortune of his own and he is nice to you for being you and not because you had "Kim" attached to your name. He praises you and says how beautiful you look tonight. It is safe to say you enjoyed the few minutes you danced with him. You are finally enjoying the ball.

But the pleasurable feeling doesn't last. The other bachelors made you feel like you didn't matter, like you were a simple object, asking questions related to your family or not talking at all.

Dizzy and in desperate need of an escape, you fantasize about kicking some of them and run for dear life. But before you could put your plan into action, a familiar warmth spreads inside your body when no other than Kim Taehyung takes your hand. The smile of your best friend is enough to alleviate the pressure in your chest.

"You look gorgeous today. I didn't have the opportunity to mention it earlier."

He always knows how to soothe your nerves.

"Thank you. You look handsome today."

A smirk rose on his face. "I always look handsome."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot. The girls in here are either drooling for you, for my brother, or both." He giggles. “I didn’t know you were close to Mr. Jung.”

Taehyung clears his throat, “Yeah. Our families have a business together. I haven’t seen him in 5 years.”

You hum. “He seemed… nice.”

Taehyung raised a brow. He couldn’t comment on your statement and the next bachelor arrives. The next two gentlemen are just as boring, with nothing to say and lacking a good personality. You wonder how many more you need to dance with. Then, a tingle runs down your spine as the other man grabs your hand. You are face to face with Jung Hoseok.

“Mr. Jung,” you greet, suddenly out of breath.

“Milady. We meet again.” He looks stunning. Dark brown hair parted effortlessly over his forehead, dimpled smile, and honey skin. He holds your body tightly against his chest and your cheeks flushed. Even when you have danced with at least 20 men in the course of the evening, no one has held you like this. So…intimate. Not even Yongmin, whom you'd soon are to become his fiance. Not even Taehyung, who you already knew and have a friendship with.

To distract yourself, you attempt to make conversation with the man. “What brings you to our little Hylia, Mr. Jung?”

“My family has some properties here and I wanted some fresh air,” he responds, all his attention devoted to you. His eyes are intense and alluring. He smells like sandalwood and musk. He dances effortlessly, not paying attention to the steps. You? You are repeating the steps in your brain so you wouldn’t screw up in front of everyone. He is that distracting. He swirls you again and when your eyes return to his face, his eyes are red. You blink and it’s gone, a pair of chocolate eyes looking at you.

You smack yourself internally. Your dad is driving you crazy. Just because he sees vampires everywhere he goes, you don’t need to follow that path.

“I hope we made a good impression,” you say before you embarrass yourself further.

“You did,” he smiles and squeezed your hand, reassuring you.

The music is slowly fading, coming to an end, both relieving and disappointing. You wish you had more time to talk to him. A round of applause echoes in the room and you and Hoseok bow to each other. Before you could leave the dance floor, a new song starts playing. Panicked, you observe how other couples enter the dance floor, and if you desire to get out of here, you have less than 10 seconds to run or -

“Do you want some fresh air?” Hoseok whispers against your ear, stopping your meltdown. Without so much thought, you agree and let him lead you out of the crowd. He intertwines his fingers with you so naturally. Like they belong together. Your hand and his. You giggle all the way to the hallway.

“I don’t know where to go,” he turns to look at you, embarrassed. You can't help but laugh at that. He looks cute, all flustered.

“Follow me.”

It is your turn to draw him through the maze of rooms, doors, and corridors you call home. There is a series of small balconies facing the backyard and protected from sight by a large curtain. The moment you step outside, you let go of his hand and take a deep breath. It is nice to feel the chilly air against your skin. You relax both arms in the cold metal of the fence and watch the stars that are slowly rising in the sky as the sun fades away.

"I hope the ball was not boring to you, Mr. Jung,” you mumble and when you look at him, his eyes are already on you.

"Of course not. It was… pleasant."

There were very few candles on the balcony and most of the light is provided by the moon. The moonlight makes his features sharper, especially the curve of his jaw. Then, your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes are glowing. Perhaps you drank more than you remember, because the next time you blink, the glow is gone.

It is official. You are slowly losing your mind.

“So beautiful,” he murmured.

“P-pardon?”

He clears his throat, “The view of the garden is… quite majestic.”

Your cheeks flushed. For a moment, you thought he was talking about you. “Yes. It is my favorite place in the whole manor.”

He takes the final steps and stands next to you.

"Excuse me if I am noisy, but you don't seem to enjoy the ball that was made especially for you, Ms. ___."

“What made you think that?” You raise a brow, waiting for his answer.

“Well, there’s a bunch of people that came for you and you are here, talking with a stranger.”

A dry chuckle leaves your lips and you shake your head, “It may be my birthday, but it is just another ball with the same people, the same food, the same music and most of the guests are here because of my father. I don't tend to sound like an ungrateful child, but sometimes I get tired of this world. Does that make sense?"

You play with your fingers to avoid looking at him. You feel really comfortable around him. Like you can tell him anything and he won't judge you.

"I don't have many friends. Taehyung is one of the few to be around me because of me and not because I am the Lord's daughter. I have known him for a while now." You finally summon the courage to look at him. He gives you a sympathetic look, "I am sorry. I didn't mean to burden you with my problems, Mr. Jung."

“On the contrary, I am glad you trusted in me,” he says with a smile. “I hope that from now on, you can consider me as a friend, too.”

He leans closer, making your heart beat a little faster.

“Then, we should drop the formalities. Don’t you think?”

Something unreadable crosses his expression, but it is gone before you can pinpoint what it was. Instead, he beams at you. “You must call me Hoseok, then.”

“Well, Hoseok,” you enjoy the way his name rolls off your tongue. “I enjoyed our little time together. But I must return. My mother is probably already looking for me.”

“I hope we can meet again sometime.”

You walk to the entrance of the manor but before you get in, you turn around. Your heart jumps inside your chest. His eyes are still fixed in you, the air ruffling his hair in the most endearing of ways. He is breathtakingly beautiful.

"Good night, Hoseok," you murmur and open the door to get inside.

"Good night, ___," he whispers back.

You don't see the soft smile that stretched across his lips.

Hoseok never understood humans.

They are weak and fragile yet they enjoy living their lives to the fullest. They don’t care. Some vampires despise humans. They are shallow, greedy, and easy to compel. They only served for two things: make them do your dirty work and feed on them if necessary. But not all vampires are bad. Some of them chose to be in the world, surrounded by humans. They understood they needed them to survive. They make subjugates and sometimes turned their couples into vampires.

Love is not a common word to vampires. Blood is the most important thing. Blood means power.

Some vampires have 'special' abilities and they got stronger generation by generation. For example, his father has enhanced speed and was stronger than a normal vampire. His mother can feel other people's feelings and emotions and manipulate them in some way. He and his brother inherited both abilities, but the increased speed and strength are stronger on his brother, and the ability to feel emotions is stronger in Hoseok.

Hoseok never understood humans and was never interested in them. That changed when he met you.

You are different. He doesn’t know how to explain. You are like a magnet and he will happily follow you around. He is intrigued. He never met someone who felt as strong as you. He remembers the annoyance and the sadness you felt when you trusted him with your thoughts. It was like the emotions were his. Not even the shield is enough to keep them away from him. He was surprised by the force of them and he found himself wanting to make you feel better. The mission and the reason behind his presence in that ball forgotten since the moment he touched you the first time.

And he wants to see you again.

Dear Ms. Kim ___

Ever since we met, I'm not able to stop thinking about you. I hope this doesn’t seem too presumptuous, but I would like to see you again. I'll take a walk at the park on 5th Avenue this Friday. I'll be honored if you join me.

I'll wait for you at the fountain at 4pm.

JHS

His desk is full of balls of paper and letters stained with ink. It's a mess. He had been writing the same message for the past hour with no good results. He has never sent a message to a beautiful girl before. He is well known inside the Shadow World and women approached him first many times. He is relatively new at this. What he is supposed to write?

His main manservant is with him all the time and he has been laughing at his expense rather than being of any help the entire morning. After an hour or so, he managed to write a decent enough message. He lets out a sigh in satisfaction. The letter seems perfect. He reads it again a couple of times before placing the family seal in one corner and hand it to a servant that will deliver it as soon as possible.

That Friday, Hoseok arrives at the park a little early. He feels a little uneasy, his stomach churning, his palms are sweating and he can not standstill. These sensations are what humans describe as butterflies in their stomachs. Why they enjoyed it so much? It feels awful!

And then you arrive. Looking as gorgeous as the last time he saw you. You are wearing a light blue and pretty day-dress. Four men accompany you, not living your side for a split second. Guards.

His heart may or may not have stopped the moment your face illuminated when you see him.

"I must say, I was surprised by the invitation," you murmur when he was at ear-shot, stretching your gloved arm that he happily receives and kissed in welcoming.

"Would your guards let you take a walk with me?"

You grin.

"So, tell me more about you,” you ask, clutching your arm around his. He can feel the excitement pumping through your veins.

“About me?”

You nod.

“I feel like we only talked about me at my birthday ball. I want to know more about you."

Hoseok remains quiet for a while, pondering on what he could tell you. As you keep walking, the trees start to be closer to each other and the sunlight is slowly fading. The darkness on this part of the park adds a mysterious aura and it is a little chilly. You hug your shawl closer as you wait for his answer.

“I used to live with my parents and older brother. We left Hylia a long time ago, but I wanted to come back. I have good memories of this place. The manor we used to live in is not so far from yours, actually. I've been preparing to take over the… family business. You know, appointments with business associates and clients.”

You hum, “And all your family is a vampire or just you?”

Hoseok chokes on his spit and stops on his tracks. You eye him curiously, a hint of a smile on your lips. You know his secret and you don’t seem to fear him. You were blunt about it and asked him directly. That takes courage. You are not nervous. Not even scared. That confuses him by no means. He can’t tell if that is a good sign or a bad sign.

“What?” you ask, a little impatient because he hasn’t confirmed your suspicions yet. “Do I need to pretend I don’t know what you are?”

Hoseok had three options: one, feign ignorance and take it as a joke (even when he was sure it is not); two, use compulsion to make you forget this day; or three, go with it.

“Since when do you know?”

Yep, he chose the third.

“The day we met,” you confess, leaving Hoseok surprised. If you already knew what he was, why you accepted his invitation? Why not send men to catch him and lock him down? You were not walking anymore but your arms were still clutched together. You don’t seem uncomfortable and your emotions are anything but negative towards him. It is so confusing.

“Can I ask how you figured it out?” He says after a while.

Your eyes narrow. “I don’t if I can trust you. You could be the enemy…”

He is the enemy. At least to your family.

“Yet, you are still here,” he points out with a smile.

He now sensed the uncertainty –and fear?– slowly creeping inside your body. He can hear how rapid your heartbeat is. A part of him is relieved you were having a normal human reaction after all. The other part of him is… disappointed.

“I am not going to hurt you,” he says, wanting to place his hand over yours to assure you but choosing to not doing so.

“I-I know,” you manage to say, eyes glued to the ground to avoid looking at him. “If you wanted to hurt me, you already would have.”

He raises an eyebrow. You are smart. He never doubted it.

He is not proud of what he is about to do, but he has no other choice.

“Come,” he calls and leads you to a bench so you could sit down. You follow his lead without much trouble. As subtle as he can (so you don’t notice your sudden behavior change), he eases your nerves, listening to how your ragged breath slows and how the erratic thump of your heart decreases to normal levels.

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine,” he offers. “Deal?”

Then, you finally turn your face to him, “How can I know you would not go and tell our secrets to your vampire friends? We are not entirely hopeless…”

“Fair enough,” he concedes, “I guess you just need to trust me, ___.”

He does what he does best: being charming. It is not a difficult task as allure practically drips from his pores. Being a Pureblood, the allure is twice as strong. He doesn’t need to use compulsion to get what he wanted from a human. At least most of the time. His natural charming personality, incredibly good looks, and vampire-allure aura doesn’t do the trick with you. So, he does a little cheating: he enhances all the good feelings you have for him. Trust, comfortableness, all the emotions that could make you trust him.

It passes several minutes before you take a deep breath, your mind made up.

“Ok,” you agree. You fidget on your seat and chew on your lower lip. Hoseok can sense the uncertainty. It is still there, but not as strong. You take your time. That story had been in your family for generations. It is hard to tell it to someone from outside. Foreign. It is prohibited. You take a deep breath. “My family… Well, specifically my grandfather, formed a group with the sole purpose to eradicate the evil of this world. He was attacked by a vampire and left for dead when he was 20 years old. A warlock saved him. Since then, he decided to study your kind and hunt them down.

“On his studies, my grandfather found something vampires were weak to mountain ash. Since then, my family has built an entire business from it. They created jewelry with it so vampires couldn’t use their mind control on us.

“That day, at my birthday ball, my father sprinkled some mountain ash over the champagne in hopes it would reveal vampires within us.”

Hoseok frowns. That would explain the buzz he felt during that night. Oh, he is in trouble. Humans know way more than they expected. Humans have leverage against his kind. He needs to find out how strong this leverage is.

“Are you wearing a mountain ash necklace right now?”

You nod, “I always wear one.”

He hums. He could use his powers a moment ago just fine. Maybe the amount of ash is not enough to shield you from his powers or it doesn’t work with Purebloods at all. Is he going to reveal that information to you? No. It is not the end of the world. Yet.

“So, how did you notice?” he urges.

“Your eyes. When we were dancing, they turned red. It was just for a second. I thought I was hallucinating. But it happened again when we were on the balcony. My father a long time ago told me that vampires have crimson eyes as the color of the blood that runs inside our veins. That is how you recognize a monster.”

You definitely are smart. “You are something else, Ms. Kim,” he praises and your cheeks feel warm. “If you knew already what I was, why didn’t you tell your father?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. I was curious about your kind. My father always says vampires are bad, but when we met, you had an opportunity to hurt me and you didn’t. Curiosity got the best of me,” you laugh, embarrassed. “It runs in the family.”

Hoseok can’t help but smile. Is it wrong to feel honored because you trusted him enough to come? “To answer your previous question,” he says after a while. “I am a born vampire. All my family is.”

You look at him with wide eyes but there are no signs of fear in them. Only genuine curiosity. “How old are you?”

“I stopped physically aging when I turned 24. I am 215 years old,” he confesses with a tiny grin, watching carefully for your reaction. You do not disappoint. Your eyes bulge out of your orbits and he let out a soft chuckle.

You clear your throat, "That is a lot…"

Hoseok wonders how you would react if he tells you his parents have been alive for over millennia.

"Do you have more questions?" He teases and you pout.

"I have a lot. Can you handle that, Mr. Jung?

"I thought we agreed to call us for our first name, ____." He leans forward, looking directly into your eyes and enjoying how you flush.

“Fine. Do you sleep in covens?”

He lets the loudest laugh you have ever heard of and you do your best to not look beyond offended.

“Is that really your question?”

“Well, excuse me. We don’t know much about your kind and I am sure what we know is wrong,” you pout and his heart flips. He can feel your embarrassment and frustration.

“No, we don’t sleep in covens,” he responds at last.

“Do you sleep at all?”

“Yes, in beds where you can do more than sleeping," he flirts shamelessly.

You ignore him.

“What about mirrors, garlic, and holy water?

“Do you people really believe that?”

You nod and start chuckling because if he put it that way, humans were not that clever. It is the first time he heard you laugh and he is fascinated.

"My bathroom is practically made of mirrors. Garlic is my favorite condiment and Holy water is just… water."

You snort, "See? What we know is all wrong…"

He wants to take your hand, but he knows it won’t be appropriate.

“What about the sun?” you continue. “You are literally under the sunlight and unbothered. Does it affect you at all?"

Hoseok grins, "No."

The rest of the evening you keep asking him all your doubts and he is happy to respond. By the end of the evening, you know more about vampires and the Shadow World than any of your family or the Association.

"I believe I have kept you long enough, Ms. Kim. Your guards are probably worried."

"Oh, dear," you notice for the first time how dark this part of the park is. "Time goes by so fast when I talk to you, Mr. Jung."

And you giggle.

He leads you to your carriage and is funny the look of relief your guards have the moment they see you.

Before you get inside, you turn around. "Will I see you again?"

He nods, "Soon."

You are used to your life. Is all kinds of boring. Every part of your daily life is a routine, a schedule to follow. You can't make decisions concerning yourself by yourself. They always have told you what to do, what to wear… and there were tons of rules on how to walk, stand, eat and talk properly. It is exhausting.

Not everything is bad. You have your brother, Namjoon, Taehyung, and your friends. Their presence made your life easier and a lot more bearable. But they don't always provide the break you needed and craved. They are still part of the world you sometimes hated. They have their own schedules and rules to follow. It somewhat consoled you (and you hated yourself for that) that it seemed their lives were not under their control either. At least you are not totally alone.

The first breath of fresh air was when you first met Taehyung. He was new, funny and so, so charming. He is the first man to notice you. He is different.

And then, you met Jung Hoseok.

He is a vampire. In the words of your father, a monster. He can suck your blood and leave you dry. He can corrupt your soul.

Then, why do you feel more alive since you met him?

With him, you were not Kim ____, the daughter of Lord Kim, with tons of responsibilities to fulfill. With him, you are just ____. A normal girl hanging out with a normal guy. A normal guy who also happened to be a vampire.

And you are in trouble.

Behind closed doors, the members of your family are self-proclaimed vampire hunters. They built a secret association with their ideals. They reunited at least once a month to talk about weapons and the best way to kill vampires. At least that’s what Namjoon told you one day and he refuses to tell you more because you're a woman and you don’t need to know these things.

You may or may not have told him a couple of words that are inappropriate for a young debutante.

“What color of dress would you want for tonight, Mrs. Kim?” Lisa, your lady in waiting, asks as he finishes the last touches on your hair.

Looking yourself in the mirror, you sigh. “I think I’ll go with the blue one, with details in silver.”

Lisa nods and motions the other ladies to bring the dress. It is still inside the box, newly designed for you. 20 minutes later, you are waiting for your family in the hall near the staircase.

The Social Season started a couple of weeks ago and tonight the Lovelace family is throwing their annual ball. All the elite in Hylia has an invitation. A part of you hopes you’ll see Mr. Jung there.

Your brother arrives 5 minutes later.

“Father won’t come with us,” he says, using one of the mirrors on the left wall to adjust his already perfectly styled hair. “He has matters to attend.”

“You mean matters of the Association.”

He turns to you with a tight smile, “Yes. Mother is on her way and we can go.”

“Ok.”

The Lovelace Manor is not that far from yours, so the moment your mother is ready, the ride doesn’t take long. It is still early, but there are already a lot of people in the entranceway. Namjoon leads you inside. All the eyes are on you the moment you enter. You know your brother is handsome. He is. You resist the urge to laugh when almost all the debutantes at the Lovelace ball room break their necks to have at least a glance of your brother. He is a good match. He will be the next Lord Kim. All eyes are on him.

And you? Besides being under Namjoon’s shadow, the pins holding your hair place are stabbing your scalp, you can’t endure standing on those heels any longer and your face hurts from the fake smile you were taught to always wear in public.

But other than that, it can be worse.

“Would you be okay if I leave you for a while? I want to have a dance with Mrs. Lovelace,” your brother questions and he has these sparkly eyes that make it really hard to say no.

“Go.”

He grins, showing his killer dimpled smile. He gives you and your mother a quick peck on the cheek and disappears through the crow, with a couple of eyes still glued to his frame. It seems that Ms. Lovelace is the lucky girl. She is nice. A year older than you. Her family meets all your parent’s standards and she is beautiful. The perfect sister-in-law.

You spot a red-head near the dance floor. You wave your mother goodbye and walk toward your best friend.

She beams at you the moment she recognizes you. She is wearing a white dress with gold details.

"My father wants me to marry that Lightwood kid. Can you believe it?" She says in greeting.

"Joseph? He is cute."

She scoffs, "Please. We grew up together. He is like my brother," she dismisses with a flick of her hand and takes a cup of champagne from one of the trays. "What about you? I heard the date of your wedding with Jeon Yongmin is already set."

You snort, "He hasn't proposed yet. Our parents are still… talking."

"Your wedding is going to be pretty. Big and pretty."

"Shut up."

She giggles. She has the perfect retort ready, a retort that dies on her tongue when someone clears their throat behind you. Joseph Lightwood is standing behind you, with a lopsided smile tinting his lips but he looks a little nervous too.

“Would you join me for this dance, Ms. Carstairs?” He offers his hand.

Despite all her rant and ‘he is like my brother’ thing, she blushes. You gnaw at your lip to avoid the smile. They would look cute together. You observe them walk to the dance floor.

You don’t get to spend much time in solitude after your friend’s departure, as one bachelor asks you to dance too. Mr. Morgenstern (or was it Morgentain?) is a tall man with hair so blonde it is almost white and rigid facial expressions. Like a statue, chiseled by the best artist. He is attractive, but he is not your type of attractive.

When you know the steps like the back of your hand, it is easy to get lost in the dance. You don’t need to put all your attention on it to do it right. You flutter your eyes shut. You get lost in your thoughts. You imagine that the skin of the hand that twirls you around is softer. The shoulders where you place your hand are a little less broad. You can imagine that the man dancing with you is not blonde, but brunette. The eyes crimson as the color of blood…

You open your eyes.

Hoseok is here and he is watching you.

The world stops. You can no longer hear the music. The people around you disappear. It is only you and him. You both stand there, watching each other. He is so captivating. You have the urge to go to him, to touch him but he is so far.

Inhale. Exhale.

Once. Twice. Three times.

The next time you blink, he is closer. Looking at you with his crimson eyes and a tiny smirk on his lips… Are those... fangs?

The world resumes and it is turning upside down. You are falling but before you touch the ground, a pair of arms grab you by the waist.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Morgenstern asks as he helps you on your feet. He looks worried and you offer him a smile.

You are still on the ball. The music is still playing. People are still around you but they stopped dancing. Now, they are watching you.

“Yeah. I guess all the twirling and the champagne are not a good combination,” you laugh awkwardly. "Thank you."

With a smile, he leads you out of the dance floor to a chair. You look around, searching for Hoseok, but you don't see him. Was he a product of your imagination?

"You okay?" Namjoon appears out of nowhere when you sit down.

You nod, "I am just a little dizzy."

There is no point to try to calm your brother. He is already worried.

"I have arranged a room for you if you want to lay down and rest for a bit," Ms. Lovelace is behind him. "You look a little pale…"

You open your mouth to deny the offer because you are fine but before you can say something, Namjoon is grabbing you by the hand and sliding an arm around your waist to help you stand up.

"Come on," he says and there is no room to fight.

He leads you through the ballroom and you want to comment on the fact that he knows his way through the house pretty well. He opens then one of the many doors in the hallway and urges you inside. The room is pretty, with a single bed and a small couch in the corner.

“You can stay here until you feel better,” Namjoon states. “If you feel worse, call me and we will go home.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

With that, he leaves you alone and sends you a smile before closing the door. Once you are alone, you let out a sigh. After some deliberation, you choose to sit on the couch instead of the bed. Your legs feel weak and you are not sure why. You go over the events of the night. Does some vampire use compulsion on you? If so, why you? You are the daughter of the leader of the organization that will fight against vampires, but you don’t know anything. You can’t go to meetings and Namjoon barely tells you anything. You will be no use if they try to use compulsion to get information and you are supposed to be protected by the mountain ash in your necklace. But someone is trying to mess with your mind and is working. Doesn’t the ash work as your family always thought? Does that mean that you don’t have protection against them anymore?

You don’t get to dwell on the matter much longer, because someone is knocking on the door. With a sigh, you stand from the couch and open the door.

You gasp. It’s him. With messy hair and slightly agitated, Jung Hoseok is standing in front of you. To make sure it is really him, you take a step forward and place your open palm against his chest. It feels solid and warm.

“Are you really here? Is it really you?” you ask, in a trance.

“Are you okay? What happened?” he looks concerned and that calms you a little bit.

“Nothing, I…” you start, and then you notice that your hand is still pressing against his chest. You remove it immediately. “I’m sorry.”

He chuckles, dismissing the matter like it's nothing. “May I come in?”

You nod and move from the door.

“Are you feeling better? I saw you faint earlier.”

Your eyes grow wide, “You saw that?”

Then you didn’t imagine it. He was there. You start to giggle, relieved. You are not losing your mind, after all. “I’m fine. My brother exaggerated. I had too much champagne to drink and danced a lot. That’s all.”

He raises his brow, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Are you sure?” Out of nowhere, he takes a step forward and cups your head with both hands. “You still look a little pale…”

He is so close you lose the ability to think, talk, or breathe. His fingertips caress the skin softly. Before you know it, he is pushing you inside the room again and closes the door behind him. All without taking his hands from your face. Your eyes are glued to his. At some point, his eyes stopped being the chocolate color you know, and started to morph into a crimson color. It is both exciting and terrifying. Then, his eyes fall to your lips and your heart jumps.

“What are you doing to me?” he whispers.

You are about to ask him what he means, but suddenly you are knocked off your feet and your body is pressed between his body and the nearest wall.

“You are distracting me. I have a responsibility to my kind. I had a mission and the only thing I can think about is you.” He emphasizes his words with a gentle caress to the skin of your neck, earning a gasp from your lips. He uses one of his arms to hug you by the waist and pull you closer (if that is even possible). "Your scent is intoxicating. Your skin is so tender," he murmurs last words with his lips pressed against your jawline.

Your body feels like it is in overdrive. Every fiber is on fire. He takes his time to worship both sides of your jawline with kisses, licks, and nips. You rest your head against the wall to give him more access. It is clear where he wants to go but he moves slowly, taking his sweet time with you, nibbling at your earlobe and moving through your cheek. He is giving you the time to ask him to stop if that's what you want. But your mind is full of him, full of the feeling of his lips against your skin. You want more.

With his free hand, he raises yours to rest them on his shoulders.

"You are so beautiful," he murmurs. "Can I kiss you?"

You nod and he presses his lips against your own.

There is a moment when everything stills as time stopped. He is allowing you to push him away and when you don’t, he cups your face with his free hand and deepens the kiss. This is new territory for you. You only have kissed a man in your life and it was nothing like this. It was a year ago, with a man you thought you loved. It only lasted a second. It was just a press of lips and nothing more.

This is different.

Hoseok is kissing you with slow, languid strokes, taking his time to savor you. Fingers digging your skin, he presses his body tightly against yours and you hug him, not wanting to let him go. He tastes like champagne and something inherently his. It’s the sweetest thing. He swipes with his tongue your lower lip and you grant him entrance. He explores the crevice of your mouth as a man starved.

You have never felt like this, so overwhelmed and full of emotions you can’t comprehend. He bites your lip and tugs it with his teeth and you gasp in pain. With his tongue, he licks the wound and when the only droplet of blood reaches his taste buds, he groans.

“You taste divine,” he murmurs against your mouth and proceeds to kiss you fiercely, almost bruising. And then, he stops. He rests his forehead on yours as you both regain your breath. “You don’t understand how much I want you, how much I desire you…”

He takes your left hand that is comfortably resting on his shoulder and kisses your knuckles. When your eyes flutter open, it's like a bucket of cold water washes over you. His eyes are crimson red and his fangs are exposed. He is staring at your wrist like it holds all the answers. He is lost in his bloodlust and desire. He leans in, his fangs just mere millimeters away from piercing your skin…

“Stop,” you say and he does. His crimson eyes meet yours and you hold your breath. “Please, don’t.” Your voice is just above a whisper.

The next ten seconds of your life are the longest, but he finally puts your hand down.

“Don’t worry. I promised I wouldn’t hurt you.”

He caresses your cheek with his thumb. If he notices the shiver when he touches your skin, he doesn’t mention it. In a blink, he is on the other side of the room.

“I think we should return to the ball,” he says while arranging his suit. His perfectly styled hair is a mess now and you blush. It’s because of you.

With a nod, you walk to look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t recognize yourself. Cheeks flushed, messy hair and lips swollen. Even your dress is untidy. Now that you are not distracted with Hoseok’s lips on yours, you notice the sting of the pins against your scalp. It takes you a few minutes to look decent again. When you finish, you turn around.

“Do I look okay?” you ask him. He is laying on the couch, with his eyes fixed on you.

“You always look beautiful. Should we go?” he stands from the couch and offers his hand. You hesitate for a few seconds but take it anyway. He leads you out of the room to the ball, where you will dance all night, drink more champagne and have the best night of your life.

Time's perception is something different for vampires than it is for humans. Ten years for vampires are 1 year for humans, and as time goes by, the longer you live the less you care about the simplest things.

Hoseok has traveled all over the world, read thousands and thousands of books, met all kinds of people… and yet, he hasn't fallen in love at least once. He doesn't know how it feels.

He has had partners, yes, but only for feeding or sexual releases. There was not any type of intimacy and he didn't care.

And you?

You are the first human he feels attracted to. You are the first thought he has every morning when he wakes up and the last he thinks when he goes to bed. You are the female lead on every book he reads and he finds himself daydreaming about you all the time. He wonders every day what are you doing or if you are doing okay. All those nights, when he holds you close as you dance all night, are graven inside his mind for all eternity.

It has been a little over a month since the incident at the Lovelace ball. The night when he first tasted your blood. It was just a tiny droplet and still, it drove him mad at how divine it was. But as good as that was, it is still printed in his mind the way you flinched when he touched you after. He almost lost control and you were afraid of him. For the first time in a long time, he felt embarrassed to be a vampire, the monster you and your family proclaimed he was. He didn’t want you to fear him and as selfish and shameful it was, he used his powers again to take your fear away and make you feel better. At first, he was using his powers to get on your good side for the sake of the mission. Now, he wants to be on your good side because he is slowly falling into you.

"Excuse me, my Lord," his main butler interrupted his thoughts. "Mr. Kim is here and wants to talk to you."

One of his favorite books of all time is resting on his lap, but he hasn't been able to concentrate enough to understand a single word, so he closes it.

"Let him in," he replies with a sigh, placing the book on the table as he stood from the couch he was comfortably seated. The butler nods and disappears through the door.

Ten minutes later, Kim Taehyung enters the room.

“Long time no see my friend,” Hoseok greeted him with a smile he didn't return.

“I think we can skip the formalities.”

Hoseok frowns. "Okay, then. What are you doing here?" He walks to his mini bar and places two ice cubes inside two glasses. “Do you want something to drink?” he asks his friend as he pours a dark gold liquid. Maybe a drink will ease his nerves a little.

"No, I am okay. Thank you,” he dismisses with the back of his hand. “I came to ask you to stay away from ____."

“Straight to the point, I see.”

He turns to look at him. His face is impassive, not letting anything slide. He tries to read his emotions with no luck. A long time ago, Taehyung learned how to hide his feelings when he was around him. He hates it so much, especially when he is uncertain of the situation, which only concerns him further.

“Why?” he asks, annoyance slowly growing inside his chest.

“It is best for her not to be caught up in the middle of a war.”

Hoseok downed the content of his glass in one gulp and stared at his friend in confusion. “She is the daughter of the leader of the association. She is already in the middle of it.”

“Yeah, but how do you think her father would react if he knows his daughter is courting with a vampire?”

“He won’t know about…-”

Taehyung snorts. “He is already suspicious and we are this close to getting caught.”

“How do you know?”

Despite his angry exterior, Hoseok can tell Taehyung is really worried. He patiently waits for his friend to continue, seated on the same couch he was before he arrived. Hoseok can feel his mortification. It is faint, but it is there. He watches with amusement how Taehyung approached the bar and poured himself a drink.

“I thought you didn’t want something to drink…”

“After I told you what I know, you’ll want to refill yours,” he says and takes the contents of his glass in one gulp.

Hoseok raises a brow but stays silent. After a few minutes, Taehyung speaks.

“I’ve been using compulsion with servants to figure it out if they know or have heard something about the Lord’s anti-vampire group.”

“And?”

“Werewolves are not their only allies," he confesses. "The Lord managed to find a warlock willing to help them.”

Hoseok frowns. “A warlock? I thought we had a peace treaty with the magic community.”

Everyone thinks being a vampire is full of benefits and perks but they are all wrong. Vampirism brings along a lot of enemies.

Taehyung chuckles dryly. “Theoretically? Yes. But this one is obviously in favor of humans.”

“What would they want with a warlock?”

“Well, they know how to kill us now and that’s not the worst of our problems.”

“What could possibly be worse than that?” Hoseok asks.

“They are trying to empower a human with magic to match our strength and speed during fights,” he gulped loudly and Hoseok’s heart drops.

This couldn’t be happening. Taehyung lets the information sink in and takes another drink. Hoseok rubs his temples with his fingers. That’s definitely bad. Humans had a slim chance to fight against vampires because of their higher number and vampires still had leverage: their power. Now, if humans have powers of their own, vampires are screwed. He is screwed.

“Any results?”

“Not yet.”

Taehyung’s worry was so strong that he couldn’t hide from Hoseok anymore. It was exhausting and the feeling hit Hobi with the force of a truck. Now, his body was full with the worry of two individuals at the same time and his stomach churned painfully.

"I need to inform my father. If humans want to fight, he will fight back."

Taehyung nods, "I know. Now, do you understand why I want you to stay away from her?” his voice sounds hoarse and Hoseok doesn’t remember the last time he saw pain glistening in his friend’s eyes. "Something could go terribly wrong."

Hoseok understands. He knows things are messed up and not for the first time he wishes you were a vampire. Things will be simpler like that.

Would you want that? If he offers you a life of eternity with him by your side, would you take it?

“I can’t,” and the words are like punches to Taehyung's gut. "I don't want to. I will protect her. I want to protect her."

“Do you love her?”

Taehyung closed his eyes as if he feared what his answer might be.

Hoseok never realized until then, too caught inside his own world, fears, and hopes, that Taehyung has feelings for you, too. He couldn’t blame him for it, either. Hoseok himself was falling for you. Fast. You were extraordinary, beautiful and the most selfless person he knew. It was too obvious, actually. The way Taehyung’s face illuminated when you were in the same room as him; or the way his eyes helplessly followed your frame wherever you went.

Taehyung was one of the good ones.

He had never killed a human to feed. Enjoyed surrounding himself with humans because he wanted to be as normal as possible. He didn’t like being a vampire, but he was born like that and couldn’t change that. He took suppressors to weaken his ability to manipulate others' will. His power was so strong he even could use compulsion on other vampires –something no other vampire could do– but he respected the vampiric hierarchy and didn’t want to use it to his convenience.

He is that kind.

"I don't know," Hoseok answers. "I might."

As if he didn’t want to act like a normal human anymore, Taehyung moved in the blink of an eye and seated on the couch, burying his face between his hands in the most vulnerable state Hoseok has ever seen him.

“Hobi, she is human. Mortal. She can die. You understand that, right?” His voice was muffled but to Hoseok's ears was loud and clear.

Of course, he knew that. The last few days, he has been having nightmares. Horrible dreams where you die between his arms, bleeding out. Your blood smearing his hands and clothes as he desperately tried to keep you alive. Every time, he woke up with shallow breathing, his heart hammering furiously against his chest and the biggest lump on his throat. He had never felt that type of agonizing pain in his 200 years of being alive as he felt it at the mere thought of you being ripped off his side…

...and Hoseok is surprised by the nth time by how quickly you managed to get under his skin.

"I know," his voice sounds strained. "I will stay away from her."

Maybe it is for the best. He would hate himself if something happened to you because of him.

Taehyung stands up from the couch with clenched hands, "You better because if something happens to her, I'll personally kill you with my bare hands."

The Jeon's annual party is one of the most important and biggest events of the year during the social season. The invitation made of lush paper and gold is personally delivered to every guest. If you were invited, that meant you are important.

It is also the event Hoseok had chosen to say goodbye to you. He wants to have one last dance and give you a final kiss before he disappeared from your life.

Weird thing but what you loved the most about this world are the parties. Ironic, I know. Those parties are the perfect excuse to display the family fortune and elicit other’s envy. You hate that. No, what you love the most is when the hosts, to impress the guests, order the most exquisite pastries and drinks that make your taste buds tingle in pleasure. You love food.

There are also clothes. Despite yourself, you enjoyed dressing up in those dresses that are made especially for you and getting your hair and makeup done for the occasion. It makes you feel like you are inside a fairytale.

Tonight, your only companion is your brother. Your father had something to do and your mother is kind enough to not come without him.

This time, the Jeon ball had a theme, Fire and Ice, where the gentleman comes in white and the ladies in red. Lisa excelled herself with the makeup and the hair. You look absolutely stunning.

Since you arrived, you made a beeline to the food. Shrimp canapes and diverse seafood in appetizers are displayed before you. You are not a big fan of seafood but the canapes are pretty good. You are about to take your second one when you feel a hand being pressed against your lower back.

"Did my mother choose the appetizers well?”

Jeon Yongmin is behind you with an amused smile on his face.

"O-oh! Mr. Jeon,” half of the canape was already inside your mouth, so you are struggling a little while you swallow it.

"Please," he sends you a boyish smile and hands you a cup with bubbly golden liquid, "I told you to call me Yongmin."

You smile back. “Yongmin,” his name rolls off your tongue and his smile widens.

Well, you guess he will be a good husband. He is kind and attentive. He comes from a wealthy family. You will be taken care of and will not have to worry about anything for your entire life. Plus, he is really handsome. Your kids will be pretty. Yet, you can’t picture yourself with him. When you imagine yourself in the future, another man is standing beside you.

"The appetizers are really good," you finally respond.

Strangely, he is here talking to you. Even when he is around your age, he spent more time hanging out with your brother and his friends than you. Thus, you are not close.

"I'm glad you liked them. My mother was really nervous about it," Yongmin says as he takes one for himself.

"How is the training going?" You ask him and giggle at his confused expression. "My father is the leader and my brother an active member. Of course, I know about your little group of vampire hunters."

“It is weird to talk about it with someone out of the group,” he chuckles nervously and rubs the back of his neck. Then, he leans in closer to you so no one can hear what he is about to say. “We’ve been training with a warlock. He is giving some the power to fight against them. The other night, we went hunting and your brother killed one. It was impressive.”

Your blood runs cold. Namjoon killed a vampire. You stare at Yongmin horrified but he is too busy telling you the epic story of your brother to notice the change in your expression. He seems excited and why not? This is what your family has been looking for: a way to eliminate vampires from the world. You should be happy. Instead, you feel nauseous. You can't help but imagine Hoseok being tortured by Namjoon.

"We may kill some tonight. You can see if you want. I'm sure your father would let you," he adds casually.

What?

"H-how?"

"They added a bigger dose of mountain ash to all the food and champagne. If a bloodsucker comes to the ball, we'll know."

No. You need to tell Hoseok.

"Has it ever occurred to you that not all vampires are bad?"

He turns to look at you, surprised.

"Are you kidding? They only want one thing. Blood. They'll do anything to get it," his tone is stern and you wonder if he has a story with vampires that made him hate them so bad.

For the past few months, you have wondered if he was a vampire, like Hoseok. There is something odd about him. But now you are certain he is not. No one hates his own people that much.

You excuse yourself, telling Yongmin that you need to go to the dresser. You can't be around him any longer. He offers you a smile that you no longer perceive as charming. You start walking as fast as you can. You need to warn Hoseok–

Suddenly, you bump into someone’s chest, too caught up in your thoughts to notice where you were going.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t see you there… Oh, Hoseok.”

All the concerning thoughts vanish from your mind the moment you meet his eyes.

“Ms. Kim,” he greets you with a grin. “You look stunning tonight.”

He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

You blush at his words. “Thank you.”

He looks really handsome too. The white of his suit accentuates his dark hair.

Hoseok leans in and whispers against your ear, “Red is my favorite color.”

You try so hard not to react to his words but your heart bumps hysterically inside your chest and you know he can hear it. It is clear by the smirk that tugs the corner of his mouth.

There’s something you need to tell him, but right now you can't remember what it was. Maybe it is not that important. You'll remember later.

At that moment, the string quartet started playing, filling the room with music.

"Can I have this dance?"

With a small bow, he offers his hand. With butterflies flying in your belly, you take his hand.

He tugs you towards the dance floor where more couples are gathering and preparing themselves to dance. The steps come easy to your mind as you place your right hand over his left one and your left hand over his right shoulder. You feel warmth spread across your body as his right hand snaked around your waist and pulled you closer, his cologne filling your nostrils.

Every time you dance with him, the world disappears. It is just you and him. Nothing else matters. You lose track of time. You dance until your legs feel weak and your feet hurt. You dance until your mind is dizzy and your throat is dry. Unbeknownst to both of you, a pair of eyes follow you through the crowd.

The current song finished and a round of applause filled the room as the dancers bowed to their partners.

"I have something to talk about with you," Hoseok says as he draws you out of the dance floor with a playful smile. Giggling, you follow after him.

Then, something really weird happens. Hoseok stumbles over his feet. Hoseok, a vampire with enhanced reflexes, fell to the floor. He groans in pain and you let out a gasp. Something is wrong.

“Are you okay?”

He looks paler than he was just five minutes ago. Almost all the golden glory that distinguished his smooth skin is lost, leaving a pale, almost sick, color behind. But this is not the most shocking thing. His eyes fluttered open, a bright, crimson red has almost overtaken the chocolate brown of his irises.

“Your eyes…” you whisper.

“I don’t feel so good. Please, help me out of here.”

With a nod you help him to his feet, urging one of his arms around your shoulders for support. A small crowd has gathered around you, their eyes observing with interest.

“Is he feeling alright?” a woman, Lady Penhallow, asks.

You offer her a tight smile. “Yes, thank you. He just drank a little too much,” you giggle awkwardly.

You take Hoseok away before she could formulate a reply. You manage to make it out of the ballroom without much trouble, the people around them too busy to notice something out of the ordinary. However, when you arrive in the hallway, someone is waiting for you.

Hoseok’s grip around your shoulders tightens as you recognize the man standing in front of you.

Jeon Yongmin. The same Jeon Jongmin who was also an active member of your father’s Association and knows how to kill a vampire. The same who told you they were using mountain ash to hunt vampires at the ball…

Suddenly, everything comes back to your mind. How could you forget something so important!?

“Is everything alright? What happened?” Yongmin asks, perfectly collected and face inscrutable. His eyes fall to Hoseok’s arm around your frame and he clenches his jaw.

Perfect.

Just perfect.

You open your mouth to give him an answer, but Hoseok beats you.

“Everything is alright, Jeon. I sprained my ankle dancing with her and Ms. Kim is kind enough to help me get into my carrier. Do I need to explain myself further?” To your surprise, Hoseok looks somewhat normal again. His eyes are brown again and he is doing his best to not use you for support to stand on his feet. Hoseok holds Yongmin's stare like he is challenging him to say something. The tension is palpable.

"Okay…" Yongmin says after a while, his eyes glossy. He turns to you. “Come to see me when you finish. I need to speak to you.”

You nod and watch him re-enter the ballroom. What just happened?

The moment Jongmin leaves you two alone, Hoseok sighs in pain, and his body weight falls on your shoulders. He can’t stand on his feet anymore. With all your strength, you lead him towards a small balcony. Hoseok lets himself fall against the nearest bench once the door closes behind you.

“I don’t know what is happening,” he musters between gritted teeth. He looks worse than before, small puffs of air coming out of his lips and beads of sweat all over his face, his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Hoseok, I am so sorry! They put mountain ash on the champagne. They are looking for vampires!"

You run towards him, on the verge of tears.

“But… the mountain ash doesn’t… affect me,” he breathed out. His loss of breath was what concerned you the most.

"Yongmin said they increased the dose."

Hoseok coughs, “Well, that explains it.”

“What does the mountain ash do to you?”

He coughs again and you wince. “It only weakens me. It suppresses my powers and my strength. I wouldn’t be able to defend me if someone attacked me.”

Of course. It is the only way they have to fight against them.

"What can I do? Let me help."

"I just… I just need to recover my energy. I need blood. I have some spare at my manor…"

He makes the attempt to stand up but he is too weak and fails.

"If blood is what it takes, then take mine."

Hoseok raises his head, his wide eyes meeting as if he couldn't believe the words that came out of your mouth. Yeah, you are offering your blood to a vampire. Something you were taught to avoid at all costs. It is something you never imagine yourself doing. But it was Hoseok, a vampire you've been developing feelings for. And now that you put it like that, if you could save his life, you don’t mind at all.

"No, of course not," he quickly dismissed your idea. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“How much time do you think you’ll last like this?”

“I… don’t know…” another cough. “Probably not much longer.”

“Then you need to feed fast. Your manor is not close enough,” you try to reason with him.

"I'm not strong enough to resist the blood lust. I could kill you," he sounds tired.

"You won’t, I trust you.”

He groans.

"Don’t. I don’t even trust myself."

"Hey," you say, taking his head with your hands to make him look at you. He looks… sad.

The chocolate brown of his eyes had faded away almost completely, now a pair of crimson eyes staring at you. It doesn't freak you out as much as it did just moments ago. Now that you understand they were a part of him, it is easy to leave the uneasiness behind.

You press your mouth against his. The kiss is barely a peck but charged with emotion.

"Let me help you."

The last words are practically whispered against his lips. He squeezes his eyes shut. It feels like an eternity passed before he replies...

"Okay. But not here. This place is full of hunters looking for me. It's not safe."

You agree. "Let's go to my place."

"Yeah," he deadpans. "It would be safer in the House of the family that put me in this position in the first place."

You offer him a smile, "We don't have much of a choice, do we?"

He sighs, "I guess not."

---

Helping Hoseok out of the Jeon manor is a challenge itself because of two reasons: one, it is full of guards; two, you need to carry Hoseok’s weight all the way. Still, he managed to act as normal as possible. Once outside, he loses his energy again. His chauffeur looks concerned when you arrive at Hoseok’s carrier and helps you get him inside.

The ride to your manor is quiet. Hoseok doesn’t have enough energy to talk and you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything. He is resting his head on your lap and you gently caress his hair. You are anything but calm. Adrenaline is pumping inside your veins and your palms are sweaty. The ride only lasted 20 minutes. At this time of the night, the road was almost empty. Two maids are waiting for you at the main entrance. They help you take Hoseok inside.

"Hello Sophie," you greet one of them. "Are my parents home?"

She bows at you, "No, miss. They went out a couple of hours ago."

You nod. "I'll take mister Jung to my room. He is not feeling well… Can you prepare us something to eat?"

"Of course, miss." She disappears through the hallway.

You help Hoseok walk towards your room, which is located upstairs on the left-wing. The moment the door is closed behind you a new wave of nervousness washes over you.

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks as you help him to take a sit on your bed. You place your purse on your night table. "I could feed on one of your maids… They would not remember a thing…"

"No, I'm fine.” You reply quickly. For some reason, the idea of him feeding on someone else isn’t appealing. Hoseok, who is practically dying on your bed, dared to smirk. “Now what?”

“Come here.”

His voice suddenly smoother, like honey. You gulp loudly, fidgeting on your spot. You take a step towards him, your heart pumping inside your chest furiously. When you are at his reach, he takes your hand.

“This is your last chance to say no.”

“I-I won’t.”

He hums before tugging you closer with a last spike of energy. With a yelp, you fall over his lap. He caressed the skin of your neck with the tip of his nose and you shudder.

“Hmm, you smell amazing,” he whispers against your neck before sinking his fangs on the flesh.

You gasp and out of instinct, your arms are placed over his shoulders for support. It is not what you have imagined. It definitely hurt. You feel like your skin is burning. You whine and try to push him, but he is too strong. Hoseok’s arms snaked around your middle to pull you tighter against his body. And then you felt the bliss. It was not something you’ve experienced before. The burn fades, leaving a warm feeling behind. You hear yourself humming in content. It is like nothing bad could ever happen in this world. If this is what happiness feels like, you don’t want it to stop…

Your hazy mind merely registered when Hoseok pulled off your neck- You don’t know how, but his lips find yours.

The kiss is gentle and slow, both of you moving your mouth lazily.

You stay like this for what it seems like hours, kissing and nipping until your lips bruised. There is no rush. Both are content just kissing each other’s lips until your lungs hurt due to the lack of oxygen. Hoseok pulls you tighter against his body that earns him a gasp and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue inside the seam of your lips. Every brush of his lips, every swipe of his tongue is driving you crazy.

He groans in impatience when he tried to make you straddle his lap with your legs around his hips but failed in the process. Your gown was obviously an impediment to do so. You chuckled against his lips.

You lift your dress so you could slot your legs around his hips and straddle him the way he wanted to. He groans in approval and pulls you for another kiss, his hands cupping your face. This time, it was sloppy and more passionate than before, the desire and tension between you growing with each passing second. Tugging his hair, you make him crane his neck so you could kiss him there, nibbling and licking the soft skin.

“What are you doing?” he asks, clearly affected. His hands fall to your hips, fingers digging your skin.

“What do you think I am doing?”

“Ughh, you’ll be the end of me…”

You can’t help but smile at that. When you found the soft spot on his neck, his hands around your hips tightened, causing your body to squeeze harder against his own. You gasp. It is the first time you feel his already hardening member pressing against your clothed core. You rock your hips again, out of curiosity, and a soft moan leaves your lips. It feels so good. You set a rhythm, slow but strong, as you keep exploring the skin of his neck.

Soon, you feel that it is not enough. You need to feel more of him, so you try to take off his jacket but his hands stop you midway.

“Baby,” your heart flutters at the pet name. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why?” you whine.

He smiles at your pouty lips. “You are intoxicated with endorphins and you just lost blood. You are not in your right mind to make decisions. I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret tomorrow.”

“But I want you.”

“And you’ll have me, tomorrow.”

He brings your face to him to give you a kiss. “Besides, I think you need to sleep,” he says as he looks intently into your eyes

You yawn. Suddenly, you feel very tired and you are having a hard time trying to keep your eyes open.

“I think I should sleep,” you say, agreeing.

He helps you lay in your bed and you sigh. This feels so comfy and soft.

“Don’t leave me,” you mumble.

“Don’t worry, love. I’ll be here when you wake up. We still need to talk.”

You nod, your eyes already closed.

He admires your sleepy form for a few minutes, deciding that maybe is not a bad idea to get some sleep, too. He stands from the bed to leave his jacket on one of the chairs you have around the room.

Then, out of nowhere, his breath hitches in his throat and he's having trouble bringing oxygen to his lungs. His chest hurts again and he starts coughing violently. There is blood in his hands.

What is happening?

He just fed. The mountain ash shouldn’t be affecting him anymore. Then why he feels like shit again?

The energy leaves him completely and he stumbles over the floor.

Then, the sound of the room’s door being opened reaches his ears. Footsteps.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” a man’s voice asks.

Hoseok raises his head to look at the newcomer and it shouldn’t be surprising to find your brother, Namjoon, standing before him. No, what is surprising is that Taehyung is standing behind him.

Son of a bitch.

“I took you long enough to find me,” Hoseok says, mockingly.

Namjoon only smiles sardonically. His eyes find your frame lying on your bed and his jaw clenches, the smile disappearing.

“It was not a good move to feed on her, vampire. My sister has mountain ash in her system. We’ve been consuming it every day for the past month.”

Well, that explains a lot. Hoseok looks at Taehyhung but his former friend is avoiding his gaze. Instead, he is looking at you.

Hoseok coughs again and Namjoon is enjoying his suffering a little bit too much.

“Don’t worry. We will take good care of you,” Namjoon informs him. “Gentlemen, get him out of here.”

Two corpulent men enter the room and walk directly towards him. They pull him off the ground and use ropes to tie his hands behind his back. The moment the material touches his skin, he winces. It is probably enchanted with some anti-vampire spell. He doesn’t see the point though. The mountain ash has weakened him enough to keep him docile.

The men tug him out of your bedroom. With the last strength he has, he tries to look at you. But Namjoon is blocking his view. The last thing he sees before the door closes behind him is Taehyung’s bottomless expression and the hem of your dress in the bed. Red, as the color of the blood that ruined everything.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think!

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