#obey me Valentine’s Day fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jooniperbonsai · 7 months

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My Bloody Valentine (jjk)

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x human reader (afab)

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 13.9k

Release date: Thurs. February 15, 2024

Genre: smut, fluff, humor, hella angst

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

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

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

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

“As opposed to what? Christmas?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then, what––.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was because he loved you too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But doesn’t it, though?” You argue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He stiffens, then withdraws from the embrace.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why are you so sure about that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pull a pillow into your lap like a shield.

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

“What? No, I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He squints. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook contemplates this, and then nods in agreement.

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

“Yeah,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snort. “Open it, bunny.”

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

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

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

You watch him putter around.

This, you think, could be a good life.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, yes, Y/N. God.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jungkook, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing In your life could ever prepare you for this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jungkook raises an eyebrow, interested in your response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please,” you respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I say you could fuck me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One more,” he breathes between thrusts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I…”

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

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

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

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

Jungkook smiles, pulling you in tightly against him.

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in approval.

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

“Yeah. The great job reckoning is coming.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ending a/n:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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yourantag · 6 months

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Do NOT Let Him Cook (Morningstar!Ithaqua×Reader)

AN: Happy White Day! I'm probably not posting more than this and the other fic I was supposed to post Valentine's Day (which, as you can see, I failed in doing) for March. I will, however, be posting a little more in April cause that is my birthday month! Expect a few indulgent fics. This fic is honestly just crack, so if you need something silly and sweet, here we are! Genuinely, do not let this man cook. Word count: 2.2k words Summary: It's White Day, a day of reciprocated love. Of course, Helel has to give you something in return for your wonderful Valentine's gift. Now, if only he could figure out how he turned a tart into a fruity croissant...

There were very few things Helel feared. The first, of course, was you. He held your heart in his hands as you did too, yes, but no one could get him to obey them quite like you could. It was loyalty, it was devotion, one reciprocated through blood and love. To possess such power over him is somewhat of a marvel, something to fear, even just a little.

The second was your death, the thought of you leaving his side forever. He'd tear apart the world, commit sacrilege in the holiest places, and declare war upon the gods before he'd let someone take you from him. Still, he cannot control plagues, time, or the hostility within the hearts of humans. Life is delicate, even Helel cannot deny that.

The third thing he feared, Helel learned, was baking.

It seems simple enough, really. Chuck a few ingredients in, mix it, then toss it in an oven. Easy, right? Looking around him now, with smoke billowing off the charred tray (and wow, he didn't know metal could burn like that), Helel was completely at a loss.

"Ah, these don't seem quite right." He muttered, scratching his cheek. All Helel wanted was to give you something in return for your Valentine's gift, something special. He had consulted many people, even asking some of the prisoners, as odd as that sounded.

Most didn't give any good responses, only saying "please let me go" or "you're going to pay for this." Terrible advice, really. Not even on topic, either, but it could be worse, he supposed. So, he went to ask his favorite person to bother.

"For the love of- just make them cookies or something!" Nebuchadnezzar had exclaimed, absolutely done with Helel's ramblings. He looked about ready to chew his tongue off so he could finally know peace again. At least death wouldn't ramble about their lover for 15 hours straight.

It had been a decent suggestion, so Helel had taken it. Perhaps he shouldn't have, considering the disaster that was most of his creations.

The counters were covered in flour, the fine powder dusting the area like snow. Splatters of batter, egg, and butter painted some places like abstract art. The worst place of all, funnily enough, was the table. It was completely clean, presenting only a few delectable looking treats.

Sadly, they were not exactly what they were made to be. Somehow, Helel had managed to make bread instead of cake, a croissant instead of a tart, and now small bricks instead of cookies. He carefully tapped one against the counter, wincing as the wood chipped under the force. The cookie, however, was fine.

'I... can't give them this.'

Helel smiled awkwardly, wanting nothing but to slam his face against a wall. He had thought "it couldn't be that hard!" and look at him now. It was pathetic, to the point he genuinely considered just asking a servant to make something instead. However, that's literally something he could do any other day. It didn't carry the significance he'd want it to.

You had given him the head of the rebellion's leader, which most would find horrifying but he found terribly romantic. The best Valentine's gift, truly. Sure, he couldn't give you something of equal value, but he could try and match the sentiment. Helel knew you loved effort and thought, so he would do his best to give you something of that in equal measure.

So, he couldn't give up. Helel once again turned to a different page in the cook book, praying to himself that he didn't fuck up this time. He couldn't possibly mess up sugar cookies, right? They were simple, so surely no matter what they'd be fine.

He was cursing himself wasn't he?

He poured the ingredients, carefully measuring them as he went through the motions. It went smoother this time since he just made cookies (if he could really call them that). With practice under his belt, Helel managed to make a tray of cookies.

"Now I roll them in sugar before baking... where's the sugar?" He looked around, grabbing at the jars in front of him.

"That's flour... that's baking powder... or is it baking soda?... that's powdered milk... wait why do we have powdered milk? Oh!" Helel smiled as he finally found what he was looking for. He didn't know how the chefs managed to get anything done with nothing labeled, but that was the beauty of not being a chef. He didn't have to know, and perhaps he never would.

So, he popped open the glass jar, pouring in the crystalline fragments into a bowl. They glimmered innocently in the light, small gems that melted upon one's tongue.

Helel quickly tossed each cookie ball into the bowl, placing them back onto the tray afterward. Making sure they weren't too close together, he arranged them one last time. Finally, he placed them in the oven. The timer would let him know when they were ready.

The man sighed, moving quickly to wash the dirty dishes. He knew he could leave it to the servants, but at this point, he just wanted to get rid of the evidence of his failures. Sure, most of his baked treats looked... fine, but the first few looked as though it had gone through someone's digestive system already.

After all was said and done, Helel felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. If this was what the chefs dealt with on the daily, he was going to have to give them a raise. All this for some desserts? Really? They deserved to be paid more for this misery.

Checking the timer, he nodded to himself. 10 minutes was enough time to snack on something. Helel let himself drop into a seat, groaning as his weary legs finally got to rest. He grabbed the cake-turned-bread, cutting off a small slice. The cookies were a definite no, and he had his suspicions about the croissant, but the bread seemed fine.

'If I get poisoned from this, they're never going to let me live it down.'

You would absolutely make fun of him. Morningstar, the King of Babel, dying from his own creation. It sounded like a story Shakespeare wrote, really. Helel hoped more for his pride rather than his life that he wasn't that bad at baking.

Taking a few bites, he found that he wasn't dying yet. Which was relieving, of course, but to his surprise, the bread also tasted not bad. Sweeter than most breads, but nothing unbearable. It was probably going to be one of the few things he could actually share with you.

At the chime of the timer, Helel took the cookies out of the oven, letting them cool. That would give him another few minutes to start packing things up. Should he use red ribbon or white? It's a White Day gift, yes, but you told him red reminded you of him.

Humming, the young king started slicing the bread, gently placing the slices in a nice container. Perhaps he should pack some jam in the basket too- it would go well with it.

Helel glanced at the first batch of cookies, opting to dump them in the trash after a brief moment of contemplation. Could they be used as projectiles? Honestly, yes. Was he going to let anyone know he failed that badly? Never.

Finally, he took a bite of one of the croissants. It was fine as well, just odd. The fruit fillings and cream were distributed well throughout the pastry. If it weren't for the fact that it was supposed to be a tart, Helel might have been proud.

Packing those up as well, he placed the 2 containers in a basket, grabbing a few jars of jam and a butter knife. By then, the cookies were sufficiently cooled. Though, after taking another look at them, Helel wondered what he had done wrong this time.

Unlike the first batch, these cookies were puffy. They weren't like cream puffs, but they were certainly not cookies. Had he mixed up which of the powders he was using? He really wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

The other pastries he had packed weren't made to be what they ended up as, but tasted fine anyway. Maybe, these would be the same.

So, shrugging his shoulders, Helel tossed one of the "cookies" in his mouth.

And instantly he regretted it.

It was salty. Not salty in the pleasantly seasoned way, but salty as in if he had drank salt water it would taste better than this.

Spitting out the abomination, Helel glared at one of the jars. Of course he mixed up the sugar and salt, of course. Still, he at least had something other than this. He'd just have to dispose of these.

If you didn't find him.

The door clicks open, and Helel can't decide whether he wants to scream or jump right out the window. In the doorway, as he expects, is you. You're always welcome in his eyes, his wonderful, perfect significant other. However, at this particular moment, he really wishes you weren't here.

"Helel? What are you doing here?"

Though you ask, you already seem to at least know he was baking. Not a very hard assumption to make, all things considered, but that just makes things harder for him.

"I was... baking." He says, giving a strained smile as he slowly grabs the tray of cookies. Hopefully, if he's quick enough, you won't even notice him toss the entire thing in the trash.

'Please do not ask about these, please don't notice-'

"Is that a scone dusted in salt???"

Helel was going to throw himself off a cliff.

"...I was trying to make sugar cookies."

The look you give him simply reaffirms his decision.

"I... see. What's the occasion?" You draw closer to him, staring curiously at the basket. He's thankful he managed to add a blanket on top beforehand, though it would've been nice if he had tied a ribbon around the handle, too.

"It's White Day, so I wanted to give you something special." Helel responded, dropping the tray with a sigh. It was too late to hide it, so why bother?

You hum softly, lips curling into a smile. You grab one of the scones, taking a bite before he can warn you. Yet, instead of spitting it out like he expected, you chewed as though nothing were wrong with it.

"Are- are you okay?" He can't help but ask. He had tried one right before you came- he knew they didn't taste good. So, how was it that you ate the entire scone without even cringing in the slightest?

"Yep, I'm fine. I'm sure you already know, but these are salty." You laugh, quickly grabbing a glass of water and chugging it. Despite the concern he feels, Helel can't help the way his chest warms.

"Well, yeah, I was going to warn you about that. Can't believe you ate it all- I spat it out immediately. Why did you eat it anyway?" He can't help but ask. You weren't one to shy away from being honest. The fact you looked him in the eye and told him it was salty was proof enough. You weren't scared of him, so why would you put yourself through that?

You give him a smile, tilting your head towards the window. The sun is high in the sky, letting all know that it was sometime in the afternoon.

"You've been here for... I'm guessing at least 5 hours. I don't know how you haven't collapsed yet, but that's not the point right now. The point is," You take his hands into yours, kissing each of his knuckles. "I see your effort, and I don't want to let it go to waste."

Helel, for all his cruelty, his hatred, his grief- cannot be anything but in love for you. To love is to be seen, to be known, and it seems that for all his life, that's exactly what you've done. Seen him, known him, but most of all, loved him.

So, he lifts your hand to his lips, pressing kisses from your palm down to your wrist. He lingers there, letting you cradle his face as he closes his eyes.

It wasn't perfect by all means, but he thinks that this small moment is worth more than anything he could've ever orchestrated. Helel doesn't need endless praise, gifts, or overwhelming acts. All he needed was a bit of acknowledgement, a bit of love.

"Happy White Day, my sun.”

ALTERNATE STORY:

Helel did not realize he was that bad at baking. He completely blames Nebuchadnezzar for everything.

"HELEL, HOW THE FUCK DID YOU MANAGE TO MAKE A MONSTER!?"

"HIS NAME IS FREDERICK KREIBURG AND HE'S SORRY TO SAY THAT HE'S FRENCH!"

"WE AREN'T EVEN IN FRANCE! WHAT DID YOU ADD TO THOSE COOKIES? THE CREMATED REMAINS OF YOUR DAD!?"

"...that explains why the sugar was so dusty."

"...Helel Morningstar Babel-"

"Ahaha... ha..."

Yeah, Helel was going to kill his brother if you didn't end up killing him first.

#idv #identity v #identity 5 #idv ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 7 months

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ROUND 3 MATCH 32

Mammon propaganda:

“He was done dirty in the first round, I hope he wins this time because he deserves it

First of all, he hates you at the start but then he starts to like you but he exclaimed his hate too much at the start so he can't admit it

Everyone knows that he likes MC, even his little D (who are demons familiars) thinks that they should date

He is a classic tsundere but doesn't actually hurt you like other tsunderes but he is so bad at hiding his feelings that everyone is just ignores it

He is the avatar of greed, meaning he is clingy which may be a turn away for some people but he cares for you so so much

He has never turned into his demon form to hurt you (Asmo hasn't but he has tried to seduce you with his power)

Don't get me started on his story cards, he literally is so cute

He wants to be a mentor to Luke, like Lucifer was to him, he is only mean to Luke because he wants Luke to learn about how life isn't all sunshine and rainbows

He is also so hot, he is a bisexual panic

He is bullied by his brothers but he cares for them so so much despite their bullying

I am so in love with him and have written so many fics about him

Anyway, I'm going to stop here because otherwise I'll be here all day”

“First friend, first pact, practically the MC's first everything, he is a major Tsundere, he holds my heart hostage, I just want to smooch him, he and MC share a room, he is such a cute little bab, he does bully Luke (a child) but it's revealed that he just wants to show Luke that the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows and want help him figure things out

He is the cutest little guy, he cares for his brother

His sin is greed so he does steal things from people but since lesson 1 he hasn't stolen anything from MC

He wrote a song to propose

Sure he is clingy but in a good way

He is so cute

He adopted a child, which he had to leave in the care of witches and willingly let's the witches extort him

There is so much that I can say about him but 1. Spoilers and 2. I don't think you want to read that much”

“OKAY SO. OH MY GOD.

First person we're able to properly romance in game. AND FOR GOOD REASON. He's had MCs back from the beginning, hes the one real one in the game. He's always trying to protect us and its so nice. Puppy boy. He's so me as well??? Like he's such a doting boyfriend it's literally so cute. When MC had to go back up to Earth, he kept breaking the rotating schedule in order to call us more. He always gets MC gifts (avatar of greed love language being gift giving im gonna collapse) and he just drops the most romantic lines out of nowhere??? Like sir are you trying to give me a heart attack. He's the secretly traumatized comic relief. He has ADHD. He's canonically queer (MC doesnt have a set gender). He even likes Head pats. Vote Mammon.”

“HE'S SO PATHETIC AND CRINGEFAIL. I LOVE HIM”

Jaehee propaganda:

“only female love interest in MM, not included in the first round for SOME REASON, you literally go off and live your coffee shop au with her at the end of her route.”

“My lesbian wife. Open a bakery with her after convincing her that she doesn't have to give up her happiness to make money. She can pursue her passions. Also her backstory is so sad and I just wanna hug and kiss her and throw hands at her "family" for making her feel like she does. Also the Valentine's dlc, you get locked in the back of the bakery with her and... Yeah that's my wife. I love her dearly. Also can we just acknowledge that she's like the only path that involves almost none of the dramatic death defying nonsense. You're just gay and in love and it's beautiful”

#mammon #mammon obey me #obey me #obey me shall we date #jaehee kang #mystic messenger #mysme #Round 3 #MDDC 2

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willownwisp · 8 months

Text

starry skies, blue eyes

ii. loving you and the little things you do. (re4r!leon x gn!reader)

author's note: no proofread i work and die alone. i write and called it a day,,, hehe,,, hurrah for second entry of leon valentine's advent !!!! this is actually two parts bc the fic on the third day follows the events after this fic. <3

cw: SFW, SILLY IDIOTS IN LOVE !!!!! part 2 of ree's leon valentine's day advent.

The baby blues melt into pink hues against the watercolor bloom skies as the sun slowly sets.

Leon presses a kiss to your temple as you both hike side by side to the camp site.

"Stay close, baby. It's getting dark soon. It's my bad, we should have gotten here earlier."

You blush and shake your head, it's not like he was at fault. Leon is a man of action, ask him what needs to be done and it is done. Perhaps it's drilled into him to obey and follow orders, or that after a turbulent run as a DSO agent, he just wanted to get away. Desperately so that the minute you impulsively chatter how romantic it would be to have a camping trip, he's on his ass getting ready that same day.

"No, lovey. It was spontaneous anyway. It's kinda more romantic, yeah?"

You giggle at him, linking your arms around his thick ones as it flexes underneath your touch as he guides you to the spot.

This playfulness earns you a sigh from him. Not one out of frustration, you know him. Know how his trauma operates in the way that there is a small cork in his heart that needed a bit loosening up before he shows his tenderness, it was a sigh of fondness from him as he pulls you close.

"Of course, baby."

He'd reply with a half-smile because you're adorable. The light to his life that seeps warmth in the cold crevices of his being. There was something in your spontaneous nature. Your laidback demeanor, and playfulness that had lured him in. A breath of fresh air.

It was almost night after that small hike, and you're currently faced with your mortal enemy.

Forgetfulness and a knot. A freaking knot.

You wanted to impress Leon by offering to be the one to set up the tent as he leaves you for a little while to gather wood for the fire.

How hard could it be to set up a small two-person tent?

You ask yourself, and this was your downfall.

Upon Leon's arrival, bringing in wood for the fire, he sets the wood down to roll his neck before removing his jacket. His muscles flexing underneath the fabric of his muscle fit turtleneck and you gawk at him like a horny teenager while pretending to be busy "reading" the manual for the tent.

Leon turns to you, oblivious to the fact that you were eyeing him.

"Do you need any help, baby?"

He asks, blue eyes and the softest gaze and fuck if he isn't the prettiest man on earth.

"Psh. Who? Me? Nah, I can do it lovey. People used to ask me for help with these you know. I'm like an expert."

A bald-faced lie, and you even had the audacity to throw a boast. In your defense, you do have the experience. The faint memory of your childhood suggests you do.

"I used to be a Scout, you know."

You give him a wink as a reassurance and he chuckles, an amused smile graces his lips as he pets your head.

"Wow, I didn't know I was in the presence of a camping veteran. I'm in your care, baby."

He replies with a playful wink, matching your energy before he turns to start the fire, busying himself with lighting up the wood and setting up the camp site.

Meanwhile you stew in the fact that you're screwed, and yet instead of helping yourself, your gaze wanders to that of your boyfriend.

You've always known that Leon is dependable. He's brilliant like that even if he doesn't see it. That seriousness in his sapphire eyes, the way he moves around to check for any hazards and dangers around the camp site. He was walking all over, completely engrossed with his tasks. Setting up the portable mini gas stove on the ground. You were just… staring.

You've always known you love him, but sometimes there are moments when you look at a person and that feeling of love washes over your being, because that's him. That's your boyfriend. The only Leon in the world, there with you. In this space, breathing the same air.

Your reverie is cute short when he calls out to you.

"Baby."

"Huh?"

You respond quite taken aback and Leon quirks his eyebrows at you.

"Are you okay? I've been calling you. Is there something on my face? You seem occupied."

He asks and you clear your throat before shaking your head to try and find your voice.

"Oh no, just… nothing."

You clear your throat again, but Leon's eyes narrow at you.

"You don't know how to set up the tent, don't you?"

He asks with a playful smirk on his lips and you respond with an over-the-top gasp of horror.

"Why I never!"

You huff and turn to tug on the little poles on the tent.

"I swear I still remember how to tie my knots!"

You exclaim before Leon looks at you and just… laughs.

A laughing Leon Kennedy is a treat, because you get to see him throw his head back in laughter, his dirty blonde hair delicately framing his pretty face and from up close you could see the mole on his neck. He was always so majestic.

You blush in embarrassment, but mainly at the fact that you were absolutely whipped for your boyfriend you can't help but admire him a like a living artistic sculpture.

"Baby."

He continues after he laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hugs you from behind.

"You don't even need knots for that, all you have to do is put the poles in those holes."

He grins, looking down at your pouting face before snickering and kissing your cheeks.

"Aww, is my baby upset?"

He asks, tilting his head to get a clear view of your sheepish face, now blushing and huffing at him.

"Come on my Scout, let's put this up together yeah?"

He pulls away from you to give you a boyish grin, the look in his blue eyes is enough to get you to soften as you pick up the poles, with present pout.

Leon looks at you and he melts at how adorable you are.

Perhaps this is what makes life a little more light and a little more bright. The small things like the way you pout and the way you're already red-faced at light teasing. He doesn't say a word but only grabs your chin to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

Short and sweet as he smiles.

"I love you. Let's go on camping trips more often."

You smile at that and nod. For Leon, this is what makes life bearable. Silly moments like this and the love that you two share.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #ree valentine's day advent

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wordsofhoneydew · 6 months

Text

fic rec time!! lfg

here i compiled a list of 11 amazing fics under 500 kudos!! you have angst, smut, fluff, pinging, grief, hurt/comfort. you fucking name it, it’s here.

happy reading!

Invisible by @nocoastposts [100, G]

For the Brownstone Discord Server's weekly drabble prompt "invisible".

Total Eclipse by @myheartalivewrites [1k, T]

Alex is not sure what the fuck is happening here.

“And if you only hold me tight…”

A man—probably the most beautiful man he has ever seen—is up on stage in this karaoke bar, absolutely murdering Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart and he’s pretty sure the guy is crying and it’s one of the most horrifying things he’s ever seen and Alex cannot. Look. Away.

Be Mine (And Be Yourself) by @itsmaybitheway [9k, E]

It starts with a misunderstanding, the way it always does with them.

Early on in their relationship, when there wasn’t even a relationship to speak of, the misunderstandings used to feed the animosity.

Then they’ve turned into something softer when their relationship turned into something softer. Purposefully misunderstanding each other just to take a jab, messing around for the fun of it or turning an innocent comment into a filthy innuendo and watching the other squirm.

But this? Oh a misunderstanding has never been this delicious, this appetizing. This one feels like the door to fucking sexy Narnia and Alex can not wait to eat those delicious Turkish delights

OR Henry just wants to be Alex's pretty little princess and Alex will make sure he gets his wish! AKA my Valentine's Day fic with housewife!Henry

it's so hard to get to heaven with my head in my hands by @anincompletelist [6k, M]

His mother would have a fit if she could see him now, taking comfort he isn’t owed from men he shouldn’t want it from. But Henry wipes his tears with the back of his hand and Alex begins singing the dulcet tune of a Spanish lullaby and George feels, perhaps for the first time in his life, like he belongs.

the tragic flaw is that they hide the truth (that you’re enough, you’re enough) by srrafoxjournals [6k, NR]

Alex has been staring.

For weeks now, actually.

Henry had originally chalked it up to Alex being, well, Alex. But lately, Henry can’t help but take it in as more than just his boyfriend's usual oddness.

Or: After gaining some weight, Henry feels self conscious. Alex however, loves his tummy.

blurred lines. by seafloor [5k, E]

Henry is a lovesick writer; Alexander a charismatic bartender. They’re still fated to fall into bed at some point.

I will/I will/We will by @tintagel-or-cockleshells [6k, T]

Alex's wedding planning business is going from strength to strength, but if he never has another wedding at Mountchristen Manor it will be too soon. He just can't get along with Henry, the venue coordinator, and the feeling is mutual. But when push comes to shove, the couple's big day has to come first.

I’ll be with him again soon by mymistakesweremade4u [3k, T]

It's sometime in mid-January, just a couple of months shy of his 95th birthday, when Henry finds himself surrounded by family in his and Alex's bedroom.

Or, Alex and Henry grew old together.

beg you on my knees (to stay) by @littlemisskittentoes [13k, E]

“Up.” Henry keeps the tone low. Controlled.

Alex is often frantic to follow commands, his limbs falling over themselves in his haste to obey. There’s no sign of that rushed need now. He takes his time, unfolding himself leisurely.

“You’re bold,” Henry monotones. He takes calculated steps forward, punctuating each slow stride with the unbutton and roll of his shirt sleeves. “I’ll give you that.”

“You’re only now realizing? Thought you were brighter than that, baby.”

keep me up all night / i wanna scratch your surface by @firenati0n [1k, M]

They step inside, greeted by moonlight streaming through the windows, illuminating their living room in a dreamy light; it’s enough to see outlines and shapes, enough to keep everything just a little bit secretive, a little softer around the edges.

Henry moves his hand to flick on the kitchen light, and Alex’s hand shoots out to grab his wrist. Henry looks down at him questioningly, blue eyes sparkling even with the absence of light. Alex always feels a little off-kilter around him, Henry both his center of gravity and his reason for vertigo. He’s stabilizing, and dizzying, and everything.

Alex’s thumb and index finger circle Henry’s slender wrist, exerting the slightest pressure. He feels Henry's pulse jump under his thumb.

“Get on the couch.”

don’t let me get drunk again by @getmehighonmagic [3k, E]

Alex had never wanted to cancel plans as much as he had while watching Henry pull a pair of light wash, tight jeans over his stockinged legs and bare ass.

Christ, he’s getting hard thinking about it now.

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catboyfics · 1 year

Text

Giving Chocolates To The OM Brothers

i wasn't sure if you wanted them to be separate fics or all together, so i took a guess :) hope you dont mind!! i had to write satan and levi twice because it deleted :(

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

𝑭𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑶𝑴: Obey Me

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮: lucifer x reader, satan x reader, beel x reader, belphegor x reader, asmo x reader, levi x reader,

𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬 & 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: fluff; gn reader; no warnings i think except for tooth rotting sweetness

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺: 2.6k

𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑰𝑭𝑬𝑹

He hadn't been expecting gifts or anything

You were dating but he didn't think that gifts meant everything

So when you gave him home-made chocolate for valentines, he was pretty surprised

Very happy surprised though

He had a really bad habit of overworking himself, but whenever he ate one of your chocolates, he remembered to take a break, have a stretch and drink some water

You knocked on the door to Lucifer's office, anxiously holding a little basket. There was a warmth in your cheeks and you looked at the floor. In the basket, there were a bunch of boxes of little chocolates, all made by you.

You were very proud of them, but Luci never asked for gifts and you were nervous that he wouldn't like them.

A voice echoed from inside his office, saying "Come in." You carefully opened the door, doing your best not to disturb him.

"Oh, darling, what do you need?" He said gently once he realized it was you, a smile lighting up his face.

"I made you something." You said sheepishly, feeling guilty for disturbing his work. You knew he had a lot of work to do and you didn't want to drag it out for him.

You gently placed the basket on his desk, telling him what it was.

"I made chocolates for valentines day. I heard your brothers talking about it so I assumed it was celebrated here." You told him with a little smile.

He stood up and walked over to you, wrapping you in a warm hug. You sheepishly hugged back, still feeling guilty for disturbing him.

"I love it, my dear." He said confidently, holding your hands gently and looking so sincerely into your eyes.

He could tell that you were nervous about taking this step in the romance, and he was so proud of you for it.

"How about you sit with me for a bit and we can eat some of these delicious chocolates together."

𝑴𝑨𝑴𝑴𝑶𝑵

When you first gave the chocolates to him, he was actually pretty surprised and very thankful

He quickly turned pretty cocky about it, though, saying things like "I know you love me, you're obsessed." and the sort

This is teasing, of course, and if it makes you uncomfortable he'd stop immediately

He likes to go gambling and when he does he always brings your chocolates because it feels like you're there with him

They're gone pretty quickly cause he eats them all the time.

"Hey, Mammon." You called into his room, walking through the open door.

"Oh, human! Ooh, what's that you have with you? Is it for me?" He joked, sitting up on his bed and putting his phone to the side.

"Actually, it is." You replied with a little smirk, making him blush a bit.

"Really?" He asked, jumping up from his bed like an excited puppy and walking over to you.

"Yeah, I made chocolates for you. You know, because it's like, valentines." You said, warmth making its way to your cheeks as you smiled sincerely at him.

He grinned, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you. "Thank you!" He chirped before snatching one of the boxes out of the basket you'd brought him.

He wandered over to his desk, opening the box and popping one of the small chocolates into his mouth.

"It's good!" He exclaimed, grinning. You were frozen by the sudden turn of events, but glad he liked your gift.

"Hey, come look, I found a video I think you'd like!" He called across the room, jumping happily into his bed with the box as he beckoned you over.

You grinned, wandering over and crawling into his bed with him, getting comfortable as you grabbed a chocolate from the box and popped it into your mouth.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer into him, clicking play on the video. You rested your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering as you watched with a smile on your face.

𝑳𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑵

He would be too busy in his games to realize you'd entered his room

When you tapped his shoulder though he would feel really bad that he forgot about Valentines. He wouldn't admit it though

He'd say that he was too busy with his game because it had a Valentines event and he wanted to get all of the good characters that were time limited

He'd calm down eventually though and would ask if you needed anything from him

When you show him the chocolates, he'd get really happy. He'd quickly go back to being a tsundere though and say that you didn't need to do anything for him, he didn't even like chocolates that much.

If you didn't know him so well, it might make you sad, but you know that he just has trouble admitting his emotions.

He'd invite you to play games with him and that's how you guys would spend the rest of valentines day.

"Hey, Levi? You busy?" You asked quietly as you knocked on his door. There wasn't a reply, so you assumed he was consumed in his game. You opened the door, careful not to startle him.

You walked over to his desk, smiling sweetly and you held the basket full of chocolates in one hand and tapped his shoulder with the other. He jumped a bit, clearly surprised by your presence.

"Ah, human." He said once he had calmed down a bit. "Oh, it's Valentines day, isn't it. I completely forgot." He said eventually with a slight frown, looking down at the floor dejectedly.

"It's no worry, I just wanted to do something for you." You said with a comforting smile.

"What do you mean? Is there anything you need from me?" He asked, brows furrowing. You shook your head no, lifting up the basket and presenting it to him.

You saw his face light up, a smile gracing his features. His eyes crinkles and you thought you could see them sparkling. You grinned at him, but when he looked up at you he realized he was being very expressive with his emotions and looked away.

"That's really nice of you but I don't need them. I don't even like chocolate that much." He said, avoiding eye contact. You could tell that he was lying.

"Dork." You muttered lovingly, patting him on the head before gesturing him over to the multiplayer console.

𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑵

From the beginning, he would be very sweet about it

He would have been reading his book before you arrived

He would take a bite of one of the chocolates and feed you the rest

Gives you a bunch of little kisses

He would've bought his own gift for you

He wasn't the greatest cook, so he would've bought you something instead

If you had mentioned wanting something to him, he would've gotten you that

Otherwise, he would've gotten you a book that reminded him of you

He would say how much he loved you and how perfect you were for him

"Hey, can I come in?" You called through his closed door, knocking gently with your free hand.

You heard a hum from the inside and opened the door gently. Satan peeked up from his book, smile forming when he realized it was you.

"My love, do you need anything?" He asked gently, grabbing a bookmark to keep his page as he placed the book on the bedside table.

"No, I wanted to give you something." You said with a smile, watching him come over.

"For me? That's so kind of you." He whispered as he reached you, grinning at you. He looked down into your hands, seeing the tweed basket

"It's no problem. I wanted to treat you for valentines day." You said with a gentle smile. He nodded, turning suddenly and walking over to his bed.

"I actually got you something as well." He said quietly as he reached under his pillow. He pulled out a small box, cupping it gently in his hands as if it were so delicate that it would break if anything happened to it.

He gestured you over and you obeyed, sitting next to him on his bed. You handed him the basket and he handed you the box. You looked one another in the eyes before looking down to open your respective gifts. You opened the small box and your eyes lit up.

You'd been going shopping with Asmo a couple weeks ago and you'd seen something in a shop window that absolutely dazzled you. Once you'd gotten home, you'd told Satan about it.

You hadn't realized that he would get it for you as a gift, you just wanted to share your day with him.

When you looked over to him to see how he liked the chocolates you'd made him, he was looking at you, eyes glimmering with happiness.

You grinned as he pulled you into a hug. He already had one of the small chocolates in hand, taking a little bite out of it. His eyes went wide as the flavors spread around his mouth, holding it out to you for you to try.

After you'd both finished eating the chocolate, he pecked you on the forehead, lying back into his bed and taking you into his arms.

𝑨𝑺𝑴𝑶𝑫𝑬𝑼𝑺

He would be quick, he'd get to you before you were even finished making the chocolates pretty

He'd come into the kitchen right as you were finishing making the chocolates complaining about why you weren't in your room

Then he'd see you making chocolates and stop before grinning at you like "are those for me?"

When you tell him that they are he'd be so happy, but also super proud of you.

He'd be like "look at my amazing partner spoiling me and making me chocolates for valentines day"

He would absolutely have bought something for you

He would also have an entire date planned

He would stay in for breakfast but take you out for an amazing brunch and go shopping with you all day

Then he'd take you out to your favorite place for dinner.

"My dear..." You heard Asmo whine from just down the hall to the entrance of the kitchen. You jumped and tried to hide what you were doing just as he was coming in.

"Why are you down here and not in your room?" He complained, eyes still closed as he leaned against the fridge. "Oh? What's this?" He asked as he opened his eyes and saw the setup laid out before you.

You opened your mouth to reply before he realized. "Oh! You're making chocolates, aren't you!" He exclaimed, and loving sparkle decorating his eye. "Are these for me?" He asked sweetly, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You nodded, going back to finishing up the last few chocolates. He plucked one from their tray on the counter and popped it in his mouth. He hummed in approval, smiling. Once he was finished chewing, he kissed the top of your head sweetly.

"We have a busy day, my love." He told you, unwrapping his arms from around you to grab another chocolate. "I've planned a lot for us. First, we can go out for a delicious brunch, then we can go shopping all day. Then, we'll go to your favorite restaurant for dinner!"

"Mmm, okay." You said with a lazy grin, smiling back at him. "Just let me finish up here."

𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑳𝒁𝑬𝑩𝑼𝑩

He would know immediately that you were making chocolate. He would be able to smell it.

He'd go down to the kitchen and start "helping"

His help consisted of taste tests

By the end of it, you had only two or three proper chocolates.

He had eaten everything else

He ate one of the actual chocolates and his face lit up

He was like "this is amazing"

Thought you were actually a sorcerer and you used magic to make the chocolates taste so good

He'd let you have one of the chocolates even though it made him a bit sad

Then he'd take you out for dinner

"Ah, Beel!" You jumped, looking over your shoulder as he wrapped his hands around your waist.

"Why are you making chocolate?" He asked, brows furrowing as he fought not to taste anything on the counter in front of you.

"For you, silly." You said with a sweet laugh. "It's Valentines day, remember?" You said as his eyes lit up. He'd forgotten, but plans for dinner were already forming in his head.

"Oh." He said in realization, but quickly elaborated. "We should go out for dinner." He grinned at you. You couldn't say no to that.

You nodded, smiling back at him before returning to the chocolates you were making. He grabbed a clean spoon from one of the drawers and took a relatively big spoonful of the chocolate you were tempering. You looked back at him in surprise as he stuck the entire thing in his mouth, humming contently.

"Beel!" You quietly scolded, though you were grinning. His antics were always fun. He shook his head apologetically, but when he was finished eating the chocolate he seemed very happy.

This continued on until you were finished making the chocolates, only having two because of how much Beel "tasted". You sighed, though you weren't upset. You saw Beel's big hand reaching for one of the chocolates and watched as he put it in his mouth. He lit up and his eyes widened as he stared at you. He looked bewildered, still finishing the chocolate.

You chuckled, looking at him lovingly.

"I love you, Beel."

"I love you more."

𝑩𝑬𝑳𝑷𝑯𝑬𝑮𝑶𝑹

He really wouldn't like it when you wake him up

He'd be like "what do you wantttt" not realizing it was you

When he realized it was you he'd actually sit up and stuff and chat

And when you told him you'd made him chocolates he'd be really happy

He'd be like

"You didn't have to do that for me, these are amazing, you're amazing."

He'd drag you into the bed and cuddle you

He'd sleep on you like you were a pillow after.

You knocked gently on the door in front of you, checking if he was awake. As you suspected, he wasn't, so you slowly pushed the door open. He was sleeping in his bed, swamped in blankets and clutching a pillow to his chest.

You walked over to the side of his bed, gently shaking his shoulder. "Belphie, wake up." You said quietly, receiving a grumble into the pillow he was hugging. You shook him a little more, trying to wake him before his eyes cracked open and looked up at you.

"Oh, human." He said in a whisper, smiling at you and moving over in the bed to make space for you. He looked down and saw the basket in your hands, brows furrowing. "What's that?" He questioned.

"I made you chocolates because it's Valentines day." You said with a bashful smile, making his face light up. He motioned for you to sit down next to him on the bed and you did as he propped himself up against the headboard.

You plucked a chocolate from the basket and handed it to him, watching his face as he bit into it.

"These are amazing." He said in awe. "You're amazing. I can't believe you made these for me." He said before finishing off that chocolate. "You didn't have to, you know. I don't need anything for Valentines."

You shook your head. "No, I wanted to. I love you, you know." You said with a sweet smile.

He smiled bashfully and hugged you, burying his head in the crook of your head.

"You're so amazing. I don't understand how some people aren't in love with you."

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chouxsardine · 7 months

Text

Hold Me (2)---Jake Kiszka x reader

PART 2 of My fic for @seenoversundown 's Valentine's Day Writing Event! I choose the prompt: Play Truth or Dare;

Here is Part 1

Summary: "hold me like you hold your Les Paul, have your way with me the way you play her.” || Your drunk slip-up leads to one of the best Valentine's Day gift you've ever got

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 4929

Warnings (for this part): 18+! Minors DNI (this is 4000+ of pure smut), dom Jake/sub reader, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), penetrative p in v sex, blindfold, bondage (have I tried that tie on myself? yes), swearing, slight insecurity/jealousy, inappropriate use of guitar straps, aftercare, cheesy fluff, Jake singing!

Author's note: sorry that this is late. I was in a dark space mentally for the past few days. But here it is, finally!! Personally, I really like this story. It's a new attempt. I hope you all enjoy it too.

🎧: Someone New by BANKS; Always There by Greta Van Fleet

“Please.” Not only is your brain eager, but your body also aches with anticipation; it keenly awaits whatever Jake is going to give you.

Jake stands up. Him looking down on you makes you press your knees together. Given that it doesn’t happen very often, you marvel at how quick and effortless it seems for Jake to slip into the dominant role.

“On the bed. On your back.”

You wish he would add a nickname to it; even a simple “baby” would do. But you guess you’d have to earn it, don’t you? You silently comply, laying down stiff as a stick. You are suddenly very aware of how naked you are now that your body is pressed against the sheets. The tingling excitement all over your limbs is so loud that they are turning numb.

A warm sensation on your calf almost makes your leg kick out instinctively. You must be too deep in your thought, having closed your eyes.

“Hi.”

You feel consumed when you blink and meet Jake’s eyes. The warm brown color is seeping like blended paint, into the light, into the wallpaper, into the mattress. The soft fabric of his shirt plush on your skin—you just noticed that he is still fully clothed. You squeeze out a coy smile.

Jake dips down, leaving kisses on your ankles. The kisses are carefully choreographed: the wet mark from the last one evaporates as a new one is planted. You warm up as he moves upwards, the vulnerability of being naked disappearing—you are now dressed in his kisses.

The curls at the top of his head tickles your navel when his lips reach the innermost most of your thigh. It only takes two back-and-forth strokes of his knuckles against your panties to unleash the arousal that has been pooling, soaking the fabric, and forming a darker spot.

“Drenched,” Jake appraises in awe, “and I haven’t even touched your upper body yet.”

“Please…Jake, I…” You open your mouth, but you are not sure what you are asking for.

Jake props himself up by his elbows, his face now level with your chest. “And let me guess, I bet these…” he pinches each of your nipples through the bra; your back arches upwards from the shock, “are rock hard too.”

“Jake!” You grab his hands, not caring how pathetic you sound. “The suspense is killing me…”

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that,” Jake quips before lowering his voice, “just making sure that you really want this, angel.”

“I really do, I promise.”

“Good.” Having got the reassurance he wanted, Jake finally reaches for the guitar strap. You hold out your wrist, but Jake shakes his head. He places one end of the strap near your lips. “Hold that for me.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief, but you obey anyway, biting down on the leather. Your left arm is bended across your chest as Jake closes your left palm around the same end of the strap that is between your teeth. He guides your right hand to hold the other end, wraps it over your forearm, and leads it through the loop between your wrist and the strap.

He untangles your wrists, so they are now parallel in front of you, then rolls them outwards from the inside. There, he pauses for a heartbeat before respectively pulling your left and right hands apart. You are surprised to see that the thin leather belt is now wrapped around your wrists in a crisscrossed single loop, secured by both ends that are firmly grasped by you. You are the warden and the prisoner, the lock and the key.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jake squints, admiring his work.

You pull against the restraint. The hold is unrelenting, but it doesn’t cut into your skin. You expected it to bite like a rebuke, but it ends up more like a command. “Where did you learn to do that?” You ask.

“Practice makes perfect, my darling.”

Practice? He practiced this? On himself? Before your mind strays further, Jake gathers the two ends of the strap in his hand, wiggles a bit to adjust the tightness. “Is this alright?”

“Yes.” The knot was mostly behind the joint of your wrist, you can still open your hands.

Jake shows you the next thing he got; it’s a pair of chain collar pin with anchor ornaments on both ends that is connected by the braided sterling silver. That’s one of your gifts for his birthday. Under your anticipated glare, he inserts one of the anchor through the hole at the end of the strap, then raises your arms above your head, where he loops the chain around the metal slats of the headboard, finishing the tie.

“There you go. Snug?” Jake hooks a finger in between your wrist and the strap, making sure there’s enough room.

“Like a bug in a rug.” You meant to lighten the mood, but the nervousness surfaces and makes your voice crack at the end. The realization only starts to sink in now: you will not be able to touch him. No combing through his hair or grasping onto it, no roaming all over his torso, no dragging him down and crashing your lips together. You want to rub your legs together, but Jake is kneeling in between.

“Thinking a bit too hard, are we?” Jake’s finger brushes your cheek. “But tonight, your job is not to think; it’s to feel.”

He reaches over to the bed stand to retrieve a thin piece of fabric, “Do you mind?”

It’s Jake’s infinity scarf, the one that is often paired with his pendant necklaces.

“I still want to see you…” you mumble shakily.

“Hum….with all the little fantasies in your mind, I say you’ve seen enough.” Slowly but surely, the scarf slides over your eyes. Jake holds the back of your neck as he scoops your itchy hair out of the way. Your nose flares at the familiar bluebell scent of the fabric softener that lingers on the cotton. Oh, is this why Jake intended to do the laundry yesterday? Jake is right about using the blindfold; your brain is already too big a distraction, dialling down one of the senses is only going to help you.

“You’re gonna help me out here, y/n. Your eyes are always so eloquent, but since I can’t see them now, you are gonna have to use your words.” Jake snakes a finger in between your fold, you moan out loud at the first proper loving that your pussy has received all night.

“Oh, I will gladly accept that too.” Jake chuckles, his finger presses into you deeper.

You sigh in relief as you finally feel the elastic band of your underwear being tugged down your pelvis bone. You lift your hip fawningly, allowing Jake to slip it off you swiftly. Next off is your bra. Jake was right; your nipples are hard, the tiny muscles red, contracted, and erected. Even the unintentional brush from the bra when it is taken off you feels like a tease.

“I want you, Jake. I want you to touch me.” You whimpers, the frustration building up in you fuelling the fire in your core. Jake leans the root of his palm against your mound, adding just the right amount of pressure to your clit, echoing his finger in you that is pointing slightly upwards. Your desire is sandwiched in between his hand. You feel your body sizzles like a burning hot pan with water splattered on.

“Oh God, just like that!” You whine out loud. The pleasure flashes your mind like a lightning that cracks across the sweltering summer sky, illuminating an image that has been plaguing you. You don’t know what possesses you to speak; you are never overly vocal in bed, but now the urge to convey how good you feel prevails. “It feels like…”

“Yes, angel? What does it feel like?” Jake’s movement pauses, just like the way he is being attentive and tilts his head while listening to you speak. To be fair, in some way, there is a conversation going on right now, between him and you, between his fingers and your pussy.

“The time when you…Aghh! You cup the…the guitar around…” Jake starts moving again, a silent reward and encouragement, “around its body and the neck…Mhmmm…with the, the…” you fumble for the correct term.

“The slide?”

“Yes, the slide.” The fact that he knows exactly what you are talking about turns you on even more. Has he always known?

“I like the way you think, love. Maybe we should try it next time.”

Jake is quiet after that. The mattress dips down further under your legs as Jake finds the comfortable position to rut his hard cock against the bed for some friction. He has no doubt that he will get something out of this too, but not until he gets you where you want. Before that, he can, and he will wait.

His hot breath fans over your silt, hovering over your clit. Your knees draw up but are immediately pinned under his elbow. Jake’s thumb pulls back your hood to expose you more, taking a moment to admire the way your clit peeks out, deep pink and engorged, before having a proper taste. He presses the area above the tip of his tongue against your clit, the velvety flesh pushing the bud tantalizingly.

“O-Ohhh, yes! Feels so good, Jake…More, please, more.”

That’s when you feel another current surge from inside of you. Jake’s fingers never left; you are clenching so hard that you almost forget that they’re there. Now he is curling his knuckle and pressing a particular spot like a button.

You pull hard on the strap. Your arms straightening to the point that it sends a burning pain down your armpits and ribs, which only adds to the mixture of joy. Bubbling groans are pumped out of your throat. All the restraints are making you tensing your muscles more on your own, making all the skin-to-skin contacts buzz.

Jake changes to fully lapping up at you. He drags out every flick, making sure you feel the texture of his tongue.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you are a panting mess, rolling your head on the pillow as you beg.

Jake backs off, even withdrawing his finger too, bringing a string of your slickness with it. “Already?” It sounds more like a rhetorical question, one that is beyond your ability to answer.

You cry out disappointingly, tears dampening the scarf. Jake spreads your juices against your labia, stroking them lazily. His other hand brushes comforting strokes down your sides, taking away the burn.

“You’re really close, I know. But the good stuff is always worth the wait.” Jake crawls up. He kneads and kisses your breasts. He loves the way the base of the softness fits into his purlicue. “We are in this together. Do you have any idea, how it feels to have a sumptuous feast laid out before you, but you have to mind the table manners?”

The thought of him holding back his hard-on somehow makes you find the courage to flirt back: “Well, your meal is begging to be tasted.”

“Very convincing. But manners are to be respected. You are a genteel lady; you know better than that,” the last few words seem to be gritted through his teeth, “I like to enjoy my meal with class.”

When his tongue is finally back on you, the intensity doubles. No, triples. This time his fingers also take a 180-degree turn. The calloused finger pads are reaching as far back as can be, tapping and massaging the bottom of your vagina.

You want to wrap his hair around your fist, claw at his arm, hold onto him so hard that you will leave marks on his skin. But you can do none of that. Your fingers are twisted together, your knuckles turning white. Your toes curling so bad that you might just able to ballet-dance. It’s like sprinting full speed towards a cliff, you know there is only abyss after the final misstep——

“No, really, I can’t—-”

“Let go, darling.”

That’s the exact moment Jake is waiting for. It’s like train hopping, it’s all about finding that pinpoint among the frenzy.

If that orgasm did throw you off the cliff, you didn’t fall. Quite the opposite, you are lifted up. Lifted by the armpits and invited onto the Chariot with the archangels and Apollo himself. Your vision is filled with blinding brightness beneath the blindfold. Waves of pleasure pulsing through your body. Trails of moans and screams are crumbled by your breathing, which has become very vocal. Each exhale is followed by a high-pitched “Mmhhh”. Your chest heaves, your shoulder moving up and down. All the noises are drowned out, except for the ringing in your ears.

Jake’s voice is the knife that cuts you out from the suspended state of bliss.

“You’re okay, love, doing amazing. So beautiful.” He brushes away the sweaty strands of hair that is sticking to your forehead, wipes aways the spit on the corner of your mouth, and is reaching upward to unclasp the strap when you mutter a “no”.

“No? Are you sure?” He already shimmied out of his shirt, his upper body bare, ready to provide you any skin-to-skin contact you need.

“No, please,” you’ve grown attached not only to the control but also the support that the strap provides. That’s what lifts you through the ecstasy you’ve just experienced. A reminder that you’re his, a common denominator between you and his guitar—connected to him, under his mercy.

“No need to beg, anything for my baby girl.” Jake’s eyebrows are knitted in thought, his eyes traveling back and forth between your fucked-out face and your hands that are red and sweaty with obvious signs of struggling. He knows that the strap feels grounding for you, but given your state right now, he doesn’t think you’ve thought far enough about how your arms will feel after another twenty minutes or so in this position. After a few moments, he still removes the collar pin that’s holding the two ends together, and places them in your palms.

“Here, doll. I untied the pin, but you still got the strap around you,” He closes your finger around them, “you can hold onto the headboard, or get yourself out if you want. You take the reins, alright?”

You nod, your heart swells with tenderness of the unadulterated care and thoughtfulness he has for you as you calm down. Your tongue still too sluggish to form coherent words. “Thank…”

“You are more than welcome. Just want you to feel good, love, be safe and feel good. You want the scarf off? ”

“Yes, please. Wanna see you.”

“Me too,” Jake whispers, “close your eyes and don’t open until I say so. The lights may feel a bit too strong for you now.”

Jake’s hand replaces the blindfold as it slides off your face. “No peeking yet.” He reminds.

You keen to the warmness of his touch, your eyelashes tinkling his palm. From the change of light, you sensed that Jake is lifting off his fingers one by one, letting the light refill gradually.

“Okay. Open now, slowly.” Jake says softly.

When you blink open your eyes, Jake’s hand is still blocking the left side of your face where the light is. Your vision are still a little blurred by the tears, which makes Jake look like a deity descending. Your stare at him like he’s the first person you’ve ever seen, like he is the picture you were shown when the word ‘beautiful’ was first taught to you. Your pupils are blown out.

“Hey you.” Jake dabs a few stray tears that have been gathering on the side of your nose.

You finally remember to blink again. You feel the died-down flame inside you reigniting, reinforced by the realization that he has been holding himself back this whole time. You raise you leg, trying to squeeze you toes inside the waistband of his pants, trying to tug it off—your way of urging him without using your hands.

“Whoa, my girl wants more?” Jake quirks his eyebrows in feigned surprise.

You roll your eyes, then remember your task and starts pleading: “Please, want to make you feel good now.” You are about to free yourself from the strap when Jake stops you, something sparkling in his eyes. Now you see why he’s not in a rush at all? He has always known that his girl will take care of him as well. “Want to be inside you, want to feel you around me, may I?”

And he’s talking about you being polite. You respond by raising you neck up for a kiss, which Jake coddles. He seals your lips with his, his tongue gliding past the soft pillow of your lower lip, only to be met with the tip of yours in the same fervent.

His forehead finds yours when he pulls back. “Have I told you how beautiful you are? I don’t think I tell you that enough.”

“You do, baby, you always do,” you are feeling expressive again, your words making up for the touches of your hands, “I feel like an absolute goddess when I’m with you.”

“Thank you, love, that means I’m doing my job well.”

He leaves you one more kiss before taking off his pants and grabbing a condom. You lay back and take it all in, fighting against the urge to keep your hands together. The veins on his hands, on his cock, the scar on his forearm, all woven into a lascivious blur. To be fair, even though you and Jake are together for quite a while, sometimes you still needs to let it sink in that your lover works in a business that is full of temptations and performs in front of thousands of people night after night, but still chooses to come back to you at the end of the day. Don’t get it wrong, you’re not belittling yourself, you just feel genuinely lucky that you’ve found someone who holds onto his true color through it all.

You try not to let your thoughts show, rubbing your knees gently up the side of his hip as he hops back. It may be that you haven’t seen him for the first half of the night, he looks alluring and glowy. His hair is dishevelled, his eyes casting downwards, his lips dewy and pouty. His chest is glistening with sweat, much like the way it is on stage. Your eyes following the bead that is rolling down his happy trial, down to the aroused purple of his cock cupped in his fingers. You gulp in anticipation.

It’s like a circuit running a closed-circle when his tip touches your entrance. You involuntarily buck up your hips. He taps the head of his cock against your clit leisurely, satisfied in the way your stomach rolls.

“Inside, oh God, Jake, come in already.” You bite down hard on your bottom lip.

“So eager for me. Very nice.” Jake takes a hold of the side of you thigh, pushing it outwards as he moves forward. He only goes in a few inches before he pauses and leans back, his eyes fluttering closed at the long-awaited sensation, taking deep breaths to get a hold of his bearing.

“Heavenly.” He utters to himself. When he comes down again, he holds himself a little higher, makes it intentional to grind down forward and over you, making sure his pubic bone is pressing down on your clit.

You feel the leather of the strap wrinkled in your palm, becoming damp and slippery. The sparkly titillation shoots up your navel. You heels graze the sheets harshly, plowing the mattress. When he finally bottoms out, you immediately cross your ankle over the small of his back, locking him to you.

“You feel so, so good.” Jake’s voice trembles. He lowers down his body plush against yours, his elbow on either side of your head. He goes in for another kiss and starts rocking weightily. You strives to keep your eyes open, studying his face and looking for the similar expression he has on stage. God, you hope that you are making him feel equally as good. Tears are threatening to well in your eyes as the thought occurred. It’s so unnecessary and irrational, but you can’t help it. The next moment, you get rid of the strap urgently, leaving it bundled up beside your head. Your hands fly to his back, fingers digging into his shoulder, grabbing his bicep.

Jake doesn’t even flinch. For you, his psychic ability is crazy. As if reading your thoughts, he takes one of your hands and places it right where his heart is. His mouth was right by your ears, his voice a whisper but reverberates in your whole body, every word underlined by a full-length thrust.

“All, my, love.”

Your eyes widen before you shut them tightly. A solitary tear still manages to escape, but is instantly drained by a kiss. Jake catches your chin: “Eyes on me, love.”

You do, giving in to that sea of satin-smooth caramel. He is right here, in you, above you, with you. His beating heart thumping under your touch, so lively and so sincere. What more could you be asking for?

You jaw hangs slack, immersed in the moment, feeling how good he is stretching you, feeling his heartbeat strong and fast. Jake raises up your butt, allowing him a better angle to thrust in deeper. He was rolling his hip, so each pump lingers. Your heels are knocking on his back, his balls are thrumming against your perineum.

Jake reaches down between where you are connected, but you bring it up to your lips, mouthing at his knuckles: “I…wait for…let me cum with you, want to cum with you.”

Jake takes a gasp. His eyes narrow. “Fuck, you’re a such vision.” He throws back his head, his breathing turns ragged as he plunges into you faster and harder, setting off a spark at your every nerve-end.

“Almost there, come with, baby.” He hissed out. His movement now messy, falling out of pace. His hand still goes down to your clit, and this time, you let him. You cover his hand with yours and just rest them there, letting the pounding of his body provide all the impact you need. Your fingers lacing and squeezed between your mons.

Jake purses his lips together, his beautiful nose scrunches up, his hair bouncing on the side of his face as he lets out a guttural growl. He comes in shuddery jerks, the spasms of his cock hauling you with him. Your orgasm, white-hot, whirlwinds over your body. Not as deafening as the last one, Jake’s weight anchors you.

It is incredibly intimate, your skin sticking, the up and downs of your bellies inescapable from each other, keeping each other warm from the feeling the cold film of sweat by being so close, so aligned. You are still holding hands. As Jake rolls off you, he kisses the back of your hand, wet and sloppy, like leaving a seal.

The room is quiet again. For a while, your jagged breathing is the only sound you hear. When your senses are restored, the first thing you feel is Jake’s nose. Starting from your hairline, the tip of his nose is tracing down your face, nudging yours, skimming over your cheek. You giggle, pulling him down and fondle with his damp hair.

“Only for you, love. Haven’t done that to her before.” Jake says, and you know that “her” is referring to the guitar.

“Oh lord. Please, never do that. Only for me, please.” You roll your eyes.

“Just kidding, doll. I have to say she makes me feel good too, but never quite the way you do. Nothing, ever, makes me feel this way like you do.” His tone turns really serious near the end. He picks up the strap that has been long ignored, examining it before letting it slip through his fingers and dropping to the floor. “I guess you did your little trick, huh? How can I go on stage now, with this draping over my shoulder, without thinking of you?”

You never thought that far. Well, it might be hard for Jake, but damn, you could live with that. You flash him a languid smile, stifling a yawn.

“How does a bath sounds to you, sleeping beauty?” Jake pulls himself up, holding out his arms to you.

“Heavenly.” You smile, allowing him to cradle you as he walk towards the bathroom.

A fluffy towel is draped over you to keep you warm as you sit on the toilet seat, watching Jake preparing a bath. He sits down first, holding you steady as you step in and lower down. You lay down against him, your head on his chest.

“How’s your wrists?” He straightens your arms.

“They’re fine.” You let him inspect the skin around your wrists; he takes the opportunity to pamper the skin with sweet pecks.

“Remind me to put some lotion on them after we get out.” He mumbles. You hum half-heartedly, knowing that it will be an empty promise because you will probably fall asleep mid-bath. Plus, it really doesn't hurt at all.

Jake is quiet after that. You let the comfortable silence mingle with the rising steam from the tub. His heartbeat is accentuated by your ear, rhythmic and reassuring, like waves. The best kind of white noise.

The next time Jake speaks, he is just speaking under his breath. You wouldn’t be able to hear him if you weren’t this close. Half the sound is rumbling deep in his chest. For sure, he has been mulling over what to say for the past few minutes. He is as much of an over-thinker as you.

“I hated it as much as you do when I have to leave, you know that.” His head is burying on your shoulder. Knowing what he’s taking about, you turn pink in embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. Forget that, I’m just being stupi—”

“Human,” He interrupts.

“What?”

“You are just being human,” Jake’s voice hangs low, “that’s what I want you to see tonight. It’s a completely human thing to have desires, fantasy, as well as feeling jealous and insecure.”

“Unless you’re a secret vampire and has been hiding it exceptionally well all this time, which I’m also fine with,” he banters, drawing a laugh from you, “but given all the spicy films and books that people write, I think even vampires have those feelings too.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you answer coyly, “it’s just all in my head. I hate overthinking, but you know I trust you, Jake, I really do.”

“Of course, y/n, of course. And to be frank, sometimes I get jealous of you too.”

“You do?”

“You have no idea. Do you not realize the exceptional work you’ve done with your job, and what a wonderful person you are? All I do is just…” He gestures with his hands, “fiddling with some strings.”

You jokingly swat him away for the nonsense. Jake pecks at the nape of your neck, “drawing the ugly and beautiful side from us, stripping us bare and all…Love really is a bittersweet thing, hey? I guess that’s why Josh has so much to say about it all the time.”

You giggle at the slight dig on his brother and join him when he is humming that line in The New Day:

Love isn’t greed it’s a need that goes unspoken love doesn’t leave when you fade away Pain isn’t vain if it means your heart’s been broken Pain is the same as a means to heal

You lean back in his embrace and relax, feeing all the nerves uncoil. Your limbs are growing heavier by the second. Jake’s skilled massage on your scalp is just so soothing. You are dangling on the edge of slumber when you feel Jake draws your left arm out to the side, his left hand holding your left waist, his right hand holds against your breasts. You are too tired to open your eyes, leaving him to his manoeuvre. It takes you a while to recognize those taps on your wrist as guitar chords: G, F, C, and back to G again; and that makes his movements on your chest…strumming*. Meanwhile, you hear the low register of Jake singing.

You’re the woman in my dream One that makes me fall in love…

Your brain pick up on the familiar melody. Always There, but he changes the lyrics. You crack open an eye, stuttering: “Jake, what are you…?”

“Shhh…” He kisses your earlobe, shushing you as he continues.

Stay a while in your slumber Tumble under And never wake Dream forever in your wonder We’ll never sunder Into the day Into the day …

Eventually convinced, content and care-free, your brain quiets down and decides to stay that way for quite a while. Love seeps through every fold and wrinkle, saturating them with Jake’s name, and becoming entangled with your rising serotonin. And just like that, you are blissfully falling asleep, much like the way you fall in love with Jake: slowly, and then all at once*.

---------------------------------

*1: inspired by @deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth 's fic I’m Gonna Crawl Chapter 17

*2: the infamous quote from The Fault in Our Stars by John Green, pg 125.

If you're wondering about the tie, here's the visual for it, inspired by DPR Ian's Don't Go Insane belt dance that is trending now, choreography by sooram

taglist: @gretasfallingsky

Yeah! you made it! Thank you SO MUCH for reading :))

any comments and feedbacks are greatly welcomed and deeply appreciated.

My other works: Permission to Fall || Mariner's Complex || Ticked (all my boxes) || Love is a four-legged word || The Lucky Ones || Coming back to me || Warm Honey || He Would

#greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet imagine #gvf x reader #gvf fic #jake kiszka fluff

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daytaker · 8 months

Text

Masterlist of Content

Links with a * lead to AO3. Unstarred links lead to tumblr posts. Some fics will have two links; only the link next to the asterisk leads to AO3. The other leads to another tumblr page.

Fanfiction

One-Shots

Dear Little Sheep (Lucifer x Reader) (ao3)*

For What It's Worth (Mammon x Reader) (ao3)*

A Heart-Pounding Interruption to My Life as an Otaku Shut In!! (Levi x Reader) (ao3)*

I Hate That I Love You (Satan x Reader) (ao3)*

Love Me! (Asmo x Reader) (ao3)*

Hungry for You (Beel x Reader) (ao3)*

Let's Meet in Our Dreams (Belphie x Reader) (ao3)*

Only Human (Solomon x Reader) (ao3)*

The Best Apprentice (Solomon x Reader) (ao3)*

Spin the Smartphone (Mammon x Reader)

What Happened in the Attic (Belphie & Reader/Lilith) (ao3)*

The Puppetmaster (Lucifer x Reader)

Nine Fish (Satan & Reader)

Club Mammonteque (No ship; crack) (ao3)*

Ask Responses that are a bit Fic-ish

Clowncore MC

Satanist MC

Pathological Liar MC

Standoffish Asshole MC

MC's Family Portrait

"Mom, Dad, meet seven of my boyfriends."

"Mom, Dad, these are my other four boyfriends and my son."

Under the Mistletoe*

Single chapter drabbles dedicated to you kissing boys under the mistletoe.

In Progress (5/? Chapters; to be continued next December.)

Hosted on AO3

MC Narrates (2nd person)

Pairings: Mammon x Reader*, Asmo x Reader*, Satan x Reader*, Belphie x Reader*, Levi x Reader*

CW: suggestive themes in Asmo's; nothing graphic.

On Tumblr: Satan x Reader, Levi x Reader

Let's All Be Shadows*

Under the guise of their 'attendant', MC (unnamed) works to re-establish bonds with the demon brothers after being hurled back in time. Satan gives MC a glimpse into his inner world, the trauma of his creation, and the depth of his resentment towards the one who made him. MC works to help him carve out his own identity, but all the while, obsessed with his role as "adversary" to Lucifer, Satan works on a scheme that could put the entire Devildom in jeopardy.

In Progress (19/? Chapters)

Currently about 57k words

Hosted on AO3

MC Primary Narrator (1st person); Satan Guest Narrator (1st person)

Main Cast: GN!MC, Satan, Lucifer, Mammon, Solomon, Barbatos

Ships: MC/Satan, MC/Mammon. Maybe MC/Solomon if you squint. The story is more about Satan coming to terms with who he is than any romantic relationship, though. It's more MC & Satan than MC/Satan.

Nightbringer Timeline and Spoilers

CW: Canon-typical violence, blood, alcohol use/intoxication

Headcanons

Thoughts on...

Obey Me!

Lucifer

Mammon

Levi

Satan

Asmo

Beel

Belphie

Diavolo

Barbatos

Solomon

Simeon

Luke

The Gang React...

...to you ignoring them

...to bathtime

...to you saying you hate them

...to you falling asleep on them

...to you petting their hair

...to being asked about their family

...to you breaking your ankle

...to getting Valentine's Day chocolates from you

...to having a Tumblr

...to watching a horror movie with you

...to weed

The Gang Have Some Search Histories Too.

Ask Responses

Fanart

Find me on Archive of our Own!*

#organization #daytaker #masterlist

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shadeysprings · 2 years

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Anything for You

— Loki x F!Reader x Vision

Summary: Your Valentine's Day date with your boyfriend is interrupted by his childhood best friend.

Warnings: This is a dark fic. Noncon, smut—spit roasting, oral (m receiving), coercion, betrayal & allusions to sex trafficking. There may be more that I missed.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Let's break some hearts. Italics are flashbacks and thoughts. Shoutout to my momo, @mochie85, for being a rockstar beta. This fic is part of my sleepover gift to y'all.

Your feedback is highly appreciated and encouraged. Reblogs would be really amazing. Enjoy! ❤️

Heart full and elated, you smile while staring out the window of Loki’s car as he drives down the highway. The lights from the lamp posts are the only one that shines into the dark vehicle, soft jazz music playing in the background accompanied by your boyfriend’s soft humming while he taps against the leather covering of the wheel.

Your eyes drift to the rearview mirror and the smile on your face only grows further, the bouquet of red roses sitting idly in the backseat, a reminder of how the evening began that only cruised through into something bigger than what you’ve expected.

You give a smile of thanks at the maitre d’ when he shows you to the private booth. A surprised gasp leaves your lips upon seeing Loki standing to greet you, the bouquet of roses nestled in his arms a bright contrast and a striking compliment to the black suit he dons.

He meets you halfway, a chaste kiss pressed to your cheek, one you respond with a blush that scatters from your neck up to your face. “You look beautiful, darling.” He breathes and the compliment is enough to take your breath away.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks, turning your head to face him.

His eyes are still glued to the road while his other hand finds purchase of your thigh, deft fingers skimming over the exposed skin, sending a tingling sensation to your core.

“Tonight was beautiful, Loki.” You smile, taking his hand in yours and lacing your fingers together. “I could never have imagined an evening as perfect as this. Thank you.”

“The quartet wasn’t too much?” He chuckles at his question and you sense the nervousness rolling through him with how his fingers tense.

Lifting his hand to your lips, you press a light kiss over his knuckles, the gesture seemingly calming him as he lets out a breath and glances at you before turning his focus once more back on the road.

You look curiously at the door when it opens on its own accord, your breath catching in your throat when a string quartet files into the private dining space, the soft sounds of violins echoing throughout the room.

“Can I have this dance?” Loki asks and you stare at him dumbly when he holds out his hand to you from across the table.

“I—I don’t know how—”

“Don’t worry.” He says with a smile, standing from his seat and taking your hand in his. “I’ll lead and you follow.” Giving your hand a gentle tug, you slip the napkin off your lap and follow him toward the open space by the side of your table. His hand slips around your waist while keeping his grip on the other. “Slow steps,” He instructs and you obey.

You keep your head to the ground, watching your feet, not wanting to step on his toes and ruin the moment. But you then feel your hand move, Loki tipping your chin up for you to face him, emerald eyes shining as he keeps them locked on yours.

“Eyes on me, darling.” He coos and you smile shyly up at him. “I’m here.”

The ivory building of his condo comes to view and you feel a small wave of nervousness wash over you.

It’s not like you haven’t been over to his place before. You’ve stayed a couple of nights when it’s too late to grab a cab and you didn’t want to burden Loki with driving you home. If anything, the place is something familiar, the living space you’re able to navigate even with your eyes closed.

But for some reason, you feel this night to be different than the previous ones. With how magical it has been, your palms begin feeling clammy as your thoughts drift to the conversation you had with Carla before leaving to meet Loki at the restaurant.

“What if we have sex and I suddenly tell him that I love him?”

“Okay—TMI.” She visibly cringes before asking, “But, do you?”

You sigh before turning back to the mirror and nodding in response.

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” You argue, feeling your cheeks heat up from the sudden surge of emotions. “What if I tell him that I love him and I scare him off? Or worse, he laughs at me.”

“Girl, he’s been showering you gifts left and right. He’s been hogging you for the last five months that you don’t even know where we put the pots and pans anymore.” Carla explains a matter of factly and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “How do we know for sure that he’s not the one afraid of blurting out that he loves you? That he’s not worrying he’ll scare you away if he told you how he felt?”

“I—”

“You don’t and we will never know unless you take that leap.” She stands from your bed and walks towards you, resting your hands above hers when she wraps her arms around your waist from behind. “If he doesn’t feel the same way, I have tequila you can drown in and a knife you can use to slash his tires.”

That makes you laugh.

“But if he does, I have tequila to celebrate and a knife I can use to threaten him if he hurts you.”

You’re breathless as Loki pins you against the elevator wall, his lips devouring yours while his hand runs up the expanse of your thigh, the fabric of your dress riding up along with his movement. You gasp in his mouth when he digs his fingers into the curve of your ass, feeling your core flicker to life and your cunt slickening, dampening your panties.

“Loki—” You mumble his name and tilt your head back when he reaches from behind you, his fingers brushing along your clothed cunt and pressing down on your clit.

“You’re already so wet for me, darling.” He drones against your lips and your eyes flutter close when he captures them with his once more.

The ding of the elevator signals your arrival and you’re left panting when Loki withdraws his hold from you, a chuckle of amusement leaving his lips at the sight of you left wanting. A blush forms on your face, embarrassment looming over you that you scurry out of the elevator, leaving him to follow, to hide the shame bubbling in your chest.

“Don’t worry, darling.” His voice comes close and you stop in your tracks when you feel his arms wrap around your frame, mewling as his soft lips press down on the column of your neck. “I want you just as much as you want me.” You feel his desire against the small of your back, feeling a sense of relief that it’s not just you fueled with lust but also the man you call your own.

His door comes to view and you wait for him to enter the security code before pushing down the brass handle.

All at once, your confidence blooms anew and you grab onto Loki’s hand to pull him through the threshold. But you stop in your tracks when you see a blond man standing by the couch, a glass of bourbon clasped in his hand and a smile of mirth playing on his lips that quickly morphs into a smirk.

“Victor,” Loki calls from behind you, your shyness coming forth at the unexpected visitor. “You’re still here.”

“Yes, I wanted to wait for you to discuss some important matters.” The man—Victor—explains, taking a sip of his drink before nursing the glass against his chest. “But it seems I may have interrupted your evening.”

“Darling,” Loki’s hand rests on the small of your back, taking small and measured steps as he guides your forward to meet his guest. “This is my best friend since childhood, Victor Shade.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” Victor says as he extends his hand. You take it to shake but startle when he lifts it to his lips and places a gentle kiss over your knuckles. “And please, call me Vision. I’m unsure as to why Loki here insists on such formalities.” He chuckles, his thumb grazing against your fingers before releasing you and tucking his hand into his pocket.

You’ve heard of him before, from the stories Loki would tell you during dinners or on lazy Sunday mornings. His best friend, who is also his partner in the trading business he’s in, and another one of the investors that help fund underprivileged schools.

He’s taller than Loki, is what you first notice, and his blond hair is kept short and neat, tousled in a swoop. His smile is kind but his eyes look electric and darker behind the rose-tinted glasses that sit gingerly over his nose. He’s as well dressed as Loki, the navy three-piece making his shoulders look broader and his frame, bigger.

You look up when Loki holds your chin, a wide smile etched on his face. “Why don’t you head on to the bedroom, love and I’ll just finish up some business with Vision.” He suggests and you accept the kiss he places on your forehead before giving Vision a small wave goodbye yet feeling a shudder at the back of your neck when he nods in your direction, his blue eyes never leaving you which makes you scurry on down the hall and to the master bedroom.

Closing the door from behind you, you huff in relief, the sudden appearance of Vision having rattled your senses. You don’t understand why Loki never mentioned that his best friend would be here, and from the way he greeted him—“You’re still here”—and the lack of surprise in his voice, he knew beforehand that Vision was present.

He was having a fun night with you. That’s why he forgot. The little voice in your head reprimands you and that itself allows you to relax, pushing the thought of Vision in Loki’s penthouse to the back of your mind.

You hang your clutch on the back of the door and run your hands down the length of your dress while walking towards his bed, attempting to smooth out any wrinkles that must have formed in your little romp at the elevator. The corners of your lips curl upward as Loki’s scent of earl grey tea mixed with a hint of mint wafts over your nose; an aroma you found comfort in since the day you first met him.

The mattress dips from your weight as you take a seat on the edge, taking his pillow in your hands and pressing it against your chest before burying your nose against the soft cushion.

“You look like you belong here, darling.”

You turn your head to the door when Loki’s voice surrounds you, seeing him leaning against the doorframe while holding two flutes of what you think is champagne. He stalks over to you and joins you on the bed, the pillow taken from your hands and replaced by the bubbly beverage.

“I hope Vision being here didn’t ruin your evening.” He begins, lacing the fingers of your free hand with his. “I thought he’d have already left and found no need to warn you about the matter.”

“It’s okay.” You smile, tightening your hold on his hand. “I was just surprised. Is he still here though?” You ask, looking past his shoulder and to the open door.

“He’s on the phone in my study. He knows better than to bother us.” Loki grins and holds up his flute toward you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

Love.

He called you ‘Love’ the second time around and it makes your heart jump with happiness. He’s never uttered the word before, not even once in the months you’ve been with him. But now, after hearing it again, you can’t help but think that all your fears from earlier were for naught, that Carla was right. Maybe Loki truly feels the same, that he loves you and has been wanting to hear you tell him those three precious words.

Love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You respond shyly and take a tentative sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose.

As soon as you finish, he takes your glass and sets them atop the bedside table along with his. He sits closer and so do you, and you feel the spark once more setting a flame to your blood that you reach out when he leans in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he captures your lips.

His kiss is soft and slow, lips exploring yours while his tongue remains at bay in his mouth. But his hands begin to wander and you let him, your own moving down to grab hold of his coat and pushing it off his shoulders, hearing the fabric fall to the floor.

You part your lips when his tongue pushes past them, moaning against his mouth as he twirls the soft muscle against your own. He tastes of champagne and sin and it makes your heart pound hard against your chest, the swell of emotion taking control of your very being that makes you decide then there that you do love this man and you would do anything to make him happy. You’d do everything to keep him.

“I love you, Loki.” You whisper when he pulls away, your eyes glistening when he stares down at you, caught off guard by your sudden confession.

He inhales deeply and you feel his hands tighten around your frame. “Oh, my darling girl.” He murmurs back and you smile against his lips when he kisses you once more, lifting you off the bed and having you straddle his lap.

You mewl in delight upon feeling his desire pressing against your cunt, your hand skimming down his solid chest and cupping the tent in his pants. He groans and you preen in success, fingers moving to massage the growing erection before expertly flicking them to unhook the lock of his pants from the latch, the sound of his zipper echoing loudly in your ears.

“Will you—” He mumbles and you give him no time to finish.

You stand from the bed and giggle when he leans back against the headboard, following suit and kneeling before him to help shimmy his trousers and boxers off his thighs.

His cock springs free and you gasp at how hard he is, the tip engorged and pink with precum already leaking from the tip. He takes hold of the base and pumps himself a couple of times before you take over with your own hand. You hear his voice shake and it's enough to urge you on, leaning over to press a kiss on his clothed chest—where his heart is hidden underneath—before leaning down to lay a kiss on his tip.

Your lips part when you feel his hand rest on your head, a silent command for you to take him. And you do, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking on it slowly, feeling Loki shudder from the deed.

Inch by inch, you take him deeper into your mouth, gagging when the tip grazes the back of your throat. But you don’t relent, pulling back to trace the vein on the side of his cock with the tip of your tongue before taking him in once more and setting your pace as you suck on him hard.

Each moan and groan that escape his lips you take as a sign to go further, to take more and more of him and quicken the momentum you’ve set. You take the base of his length and give it slow and languid strokes, your lips kissing the edge of your fingers as they move in sync yet contrast with each other.

His fingers weave through your locks and you moan when he tightens his hold on them, pushing your head down on his shaft so that you move your hand away and grab tightly on his thigh when you begin gagging once more at his size.

Your pussy clenches on nothing as lewd noises continue dripping from his lips, feeling your walls slicken and soak through the lacey fabric that suddenly feels too constricting as heat crawls up your skin.

You feel him grab onto the hem of your dress, pulling the fabric and bunching them to your waist. You pull away from his cock and gasp when he gives your ass a sharp slap before grazing his fingers over your clothed cunt. He pushes the flimsy, soaked fabric to the side and moaning against his cock when he rolls his digit against your swollen bud.

“She’s ready.” Loki intones and you blink in curiosity at his words.

“Wha—”

You’re instantly filled with panic when another pair of hands grab hold of your hips. You push yourself up and look over your shoulder, your eyes widening in shock to see Vision standing at the foot of the bed, his fingers digging into your flesh and pulling you closer to him.

You try to get off, pushing away from Loki but he restrains your wrists with his tight grip, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you.

“Loki—what’s going on?” Your lips tremble as you ask, grunting as you try to pry your hands from his hold. “Why is he here?”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” Vision says from behind you, your body shaking and tears falling from your eyes when you feel his hot breath fan over your cunt, a kiss being laid over the expanse of your ass. “I’m just checking the goods. A little…quality control if you will.”

The chuckle that he emits makes your heart constrict and you face Loki once more, eyes pleading that he saves you from this monstrosity. But his eyes are blown wide, and you see no remorse, no compassion in them, only lust and it shakes your very core and shatters your heart that everything you believed him to be, the sweet and kind gentleman you fell in love with, was all a lie.

Your body jolts and you clench your fingers into fists when Vision laps his tongue against your cunt. You try to kick your legs, to stop him from his malicious act but his hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs wide in the process. You’re left helpless on the bed, splayed open for him to take while Loki keeps his hands on you, making sure you don’t escape.

“Be a good girl and suck my cock, darling.” Loki intones, hiding your face from him as your tears continue to roll down your face. “We can’t let Vision have all the fun.”

“No!” You shout and pull your hands and knees inward, struggling against them to set yourself free. “Let me go!” But you let out a yelp when a harsh slap lands on your ass.

“Don’t be a fucking brat and do as he says!” Vision berates, going still as fear runs up your spine with the intensity of his voice.

“Please—” You beg, shaking your head as you look into Loki’s eyes once more. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone—I swear.”

You wince when your hair is grabbed from behind, Vision’s clothed chest pressing down on your back and you feel his hot breath fanning over your cheek. “You don’t get to make that choice, sweetheart. So you either be a good girl and listen or I won’t be kind and break you myself.”

“Now, now, Vis. Let’s not be brash about this.” Loki tuts, feeling his hand caress your cheek and Vision releasing his grip on your tresses. “She’s a good girl, right?” He says while looking down at you, fingers pinching your chin with his thumb grazing over your lower lip.

You nod in reluctance.

“Now, do what Vision says and we’ll be gentle with you.” He smirks and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours before pressing a light kiss over your lips. “Between the two of us, he’s the nice one.”

You swallow thickly at the revelation. If Vision is the nice one and he’s already angry with your defiance, you don’t want to know what Loki would be like if you pushed him over the edge. And the thought itself scares you for you’ve never seen him angry, even once. You don’t want to see him angry. The small voice in your head whispers and your tears flow anew as you take Loki in your hand and part your lips to push him into your mouth.

Vision pulls back, his hands once more framing your hips, and you whimper when you feel the tip of his cock press against your clit. He teases you, rubbing his length over your folds with the tip of his thumb grazing over your cunt. You stop your head from bobbing and pull away from Loki’s cock when you gasp as Vision pushes himself in, your walls squeezing him tightly from his intrusion, your back arching at the size of his cock, feeling him stretch you wide.

“Oh, shit—!” He curses into the air. “She’s fucking tight.”

“Told you,” Loki responds, pushing your head back to his length. “No matter how much I fuck her, she always squeezes me good.”

His words make your chest clench in pain—the realization that he never cared for you and was playing with you all along, stringing you around like some puppet all for whatever purpose he and his friend have—and disgust, that he sounds delighted to share you with another.

Vision starts a slow rhythm, his cock rubbing against your aching walls with languid strokes. But such reprieve quickly fades as he begins to thrust at a faster pace, rough hands holding onto your hips tight, keeping you grounded on the bed, allowing him fuck you faster and harder.

You groan when Loki moves to stand on his knees, his hands framing your face as he, too, fucks your mouth relentlessly, your nose flaring as you try desperately to breathe. Your jaw aches and your throat burns in pain as his tip hits the back of it repeatedly. You keep your mouth wide open, tears mixing with the saliva that drips down your chin.

They groan in sync, abusing you with their strength, their thrusts brutal and their touch unloving with how they grab on you—Vision’s hand curling over your thigh and rubbing his finger against your clit that makes your knees ache, fueling your arousal which you forcefully keep at bay—and Loki, grabbing a fistful of your hair before burying his cock deep, your hand, finally free from his grasp, slapping against his thigh for him to pull back.

You can’t believe this is happening, how these men were able to force themselves on you. How you allowed yourself to fall for Loki’s lies which eventually brought you here and it makes you cry further that it’s all because you allowed yourself to love.

You feel them throb inside of you, your pussy clamping down on Vision’s cock as you feel yourself edging closer to your peak. Loki groans, garbled moans spewing out of his lips and you shut your eyes tight when the salty essence of his come spreads throughout your tongue.

He pants, his body seeming limp from his orgasm but his hold on your hair doesn’t falter, keeping his cock lodged in your mouth as he continues to spurt out his seeds. “Swallow.” He commands with a shaky breath and you moan your disapproval. But his hand wraps around your throat, thumb, and forefinger massaging and pinching the sides, leaving you no choice but to do as he demands.

Loki pulls out and you gasp lungfuls of air, thankful for the respite you’re given. But Vision pushes on and your face is pushed on Loki’s thigh, moaning incoherently as he snaps his hips at a frantic pace.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He growls, your hands pushing hard against the bed as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

You gasp once more, the breath knocked out of your chest when he hits that sacred spot from within. He pinches your clit and your walls tighten further around him, a slew of moans escaping your lips when the dam within you finally breaks and you cry as your orgasm consumes you, your chest dropping down on the bed while your legs shake from the intensity of your release.

You’re left hollow when Vision pulls out all of a sudden, his grunts bouncing off the walls and filling your ears. You then feel something warm splash and trickle down the back of your thigh then the tip of Vision’s cock poking against it before smearing all over your skin. A whine spills from your lips when he fills you once more, thrusting into you slowly before stilling yet keeping himself nestled within your cunt.

“She’s perfect.” Vision breathes and you sniff as you cry again, whimpering when you feel his lips press against your lower back and then trail up the length of your spine. “That attitude needs work though but nothing we can’t fix.” He chuckles darkly and your knees finally collapse on the bed when he pulls out once again.

You hear the rustle of clothing and a zipper setting in place. Vision’s shadow looms at your periphery and you pull your head away when he kisses your temple.

“We have a meeting with Stark in 2 weeks and we have to make sure she’s ready by then.”

“Don’t worry, Vis.” Loki laughs and you turn to hide your face when he runs his fingers through your hair. “She loves me and she’ll do anything for me. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You yelp when he pulls on your hair, turning your head to make you face him, green eyes laced with darkness as he keeps them on you. You want to say no, to fight back and tell him you don’t want to be part of their sick plan, but the tick in his jaw scares you, seeing the anger brewing within and waiting to be released.

So you nod, lifting your hand to wipe the tears from your eyes, and take a deep breath.

“Yes.” You acquiesce, lips quivering in fear as you speak. “I’ll do anything for you.”

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