#and yes nervous heart can throw hands she just doesn’t do it as often as loud does

[comical-icicle]

I drew some more sketches of Loud and Nervous fighting/sparring. It’s good practice and gave me an excuse to draw these two some more.

I know it’s my account I shouldn’t need an excuse but still-

[azsazz]

Late Nights in the Middle of June

Eris x Reader

Summary: Anon Requests: "Can you write something fluff with Eris? Maybe like they think of the second child" and "I love your writing sooooo much! I would love more SBA Eris Fluff please <3" and "Heyyy!! Can you write Eris vanserra x reader fluff? I love to see his sweet part and you are the only person who can describe it"

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 750

_________________________________________

You peek up from your book as Eris enters the room, a slight frown on his face as he thinks.

He shuts the door with a soft sigh, leaning against it for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. When he looks up, catching you waiting for him, the faelights a soft caress to your beautiful face as you read, catching his gaze. His creased brows smooth at the sight and his breath catches like it always does when he sees you. His perfect mate.

Pushing himself off of the wall he slips out of his shirt and pants, slipping under the warm blankets next to you.

Eris sidles up close, resting his head on your shoulder and reveling in the peck you plant on his forehead. He turns, catching your lips with his for a long moment, enjoying each other’s presence. 

“What is it?” you murmur, shutting the book in your lap.

Your mate takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers aimlessly. He’s been thinking, that much you could tell, and by the way he’s building himself up to speak has a small knot of worry forming in the pit of your stomach.

The crackling of the fire is the only sound in the large room as you wait for Eris to speak. You wonder if Maude had asked another question he didn’t feel comfortable answering. She’s been doing that more often lately, asking things such as where babies come from, why grandma Amaretto has hurts on her sometimes, and why she doesn’t get to see her uncles or grandfather that much.

“Would you hate me if I asked you for another child?” his voice quivers slightly and he refuses to look at you, though if he did he would see your shocked face, eyes wide and mouth slack.

“Why would I ever hate you for asking such a thing?” you wonder, and you can’t seem to keep the offended tone out of your voice.

“It’s just–” he sighs, throwing his head back to rest on the bedpost. His throat bobs and you relax again, leaning back with him. “Maude was so unexpected and the whole time you were pregnant with her I was absolutely terrified that my father hurt you or my brothers would do something to the two of you…”

He swallows harshly, releasing a heavy breath before he lets his head fall to look at you, eyes scared as he continues.

“I’m still petrified that something will happen to the two of you,” he admits, and you soothe your thumb over his hand, “And now Maude is here and she’s this incredibly intelligent little girl and I love her with my entire being and she’s getting older and I just thought she’d like a friend.”

He’s rambling like he always does when he’s nervous. Before you’d accepted the mating bond Eris had chattered for ages about how he was the perfect male for you to be with as if you hadn’t been in love with him for half a century. When you were giving birth to Maude he hadn't shut up, fretting over you and you’d nearly had to kick him out of the room because of it.

“Eris,” you cut him off softly, kissing his parted lips. 

He looks at you, his amber eyes flitting back and forth between yours.

“Of course I want to have another child with you.”

“Really?” His voice is small but hopeful.

You nod your head, tears in your eyes and heart fluttering with excitement at the thought of Maude being an older sister. “Yes.”

He breaks out into a full grin and you squeal as he lifts you onto his lap in a rapid motion. He doesn’t give you a second to breathe, guiding you down to meet his lips in a searing kiss, overflowing the bond with the warmest of feelings: utter happiness, excitement, and a hint of arousal. 

“We’re going to try for another one,” he says out loud like he can’t quite believe it. 

And a part of you can’t either. With tensions high between the courts and the complications with his own family, it didn’t seem like something that you wanted to bring another child into.

But then you think of your beautiful daughter and the male before you, and you know that it won’t matter once the new babe is born. He or she will be loved and protected by all of you.

“We’re trying for another one,” you agree, kissing him.

[jaskierek]

grateful

a young girl gives geralt a little flower as a thank you for ridding their town of a griffin (and again he is silently thanking jaskier for fixing his image). “my mama said that you should give gifts to people you’re grateful for.” the girl says quietly, blinking at him with big eyes once before scurrying off.

it’s a simple corncockle, relatively rare although geralt saw a patch of them growing by the cornfield bordering the village. it’s pretty and purple. it’s also poisonous. he thinks the girl didn’t know that before she gave it to him. jaskier is wearing a purple doublet today, geralt remembers. 

he walks back to the inn, a pouch of coins in one hand and a little flower pinched between two fingers in the other. when he arrives in their room, jaskier gets up from the desk where he had been writing a new song and welcomes him back. purple doublet and all. geralt cuts him off by shoving the flower in his face. jaskier goes crosseyed trying to see what’s between the witcher’s fingers. 

“for you.” geralt says gruffly, looking down at his boots. jaskier takes a step back and gently picks the flower from geralt’s hand.

“a flower?” he asks.

“yes.”

jaskier waits for further explanation. the only other times geralt had given jaskier flowers was for medicinal purposes. when no explanation comes, he studies the flower, thinking this may be some sort of test. he doesn’t recognise it, the delicate, purple petals not resembling the others he had been given by the witcher before. slowly, he looks back up at geralt, who seems to be watching him intently.

“uhh what for?”

geralt’s brows pinch and he looks away again, clearing his throat.

“i...um...i was told that - uh - i was told that you should give gifts to people you’re grateful for so - um - that...that is what i am doing.” he scrunches his nose at the end of his fumbled sentence, not really knowing why he feels so nervous, so ready for rejection. 

it’s just a flower. even if jaskier threw it away, it’s just a flower. it’s not like it’s a representation of anything. well, except for his gratefulness. as he’d just said. so it is a representation. but still. it wouldn’t be a rejection of himself if jaskier threw it away. it would just...be. it’s a flower.

“you’re grateful for me?” jaskier asks, a smile spreading on his face and a pink blush on his cheeks. geralt nods shyly. jaskier looks back at the flower, biting his lip through his smile. 

he steps closer to the witcher and gives him a soft hug, arms over his shoulders, one hand carefully outstretched so as not to crush the flower. he can tell he’s taken geralt by surprise. physical touch isn’t uncommon between them but hugs, especially without the need for body heat, are but jaskier doesn’t have a flower to give him. 

“im grateful for you too. everyday, my dear. everyday. and im so grateful to know you.” he says, burying his smile in geralt’s shoulder. geralt’s arms tentatively encircle his waist and jaskier feels him tuck his face into his neck. he can feel him smiling.

“don’t eat it. it’s poisonous.” he says against his skin and jaskier laughs.

after that, geralt continues to give jaskier flowers. mostly wildflowers. daisies, buttercups, dandelions, morning glories, coneflowers, daffodils. he likes the grin and pretty blush on jaskier’s face after he gives him one. he holds it in his hand for a while, looking at it every so often with a small smile. 

geralt doesn’t know what he does with them afterwards. probably throws them away. they’re flowers and they wilt so of course he would. geralt is grateful that he does it when he’s not looking. he doesn’t think he’d like to see that.

one time, a forktail nearly gets away with one of their packs, but before it can fly away, jaskier shouts and runs forward before geralt can stop him. he jumps and manages to latch onto one of its feet. it shrieks and twists, spike-covered tail swinging and geralt feels his heart lodge in his throat. 

“jaskier! leave it!” he yells, dodging the flailing tail, trying to grab onto the stupid bard.

“oh no you don’t!” he simply cries, swinging his own legs in hopes of getting it to swerve to the ground. geralt growls, sheathing his sword to run up and jump alongside the bard. the two bring the creature to the ground, the pack falling out of its mouth, contents scattering across the grass. geralt rolls out of the way of its tail, taking the bard with him before shoving him further away and removing his sword.

the fight doesn’t take long after that. once geralt removes the forktail’s head from its body, he whirls on the bard but before he can get a word in, jaskier’s slipping past him and to the spilled contents of the bag. 

“jaskier, what the fuck.” geralt growls out, stomping over to the man kneeling in the grass.

“i’m sorry, geralt, but i couldn’t let it take it.” he responds, not even looking up, still sorting through the things.

“take what?” he demands. what could possibly be more important than his life. geralt wants to throttle him.

“AHA!” jaskier exclaims when he finds what he’s looking for. he holds a worn, leather-bound journal close to his chest, breathing out a sigh of relief. curiosity itches at geralt as he tries to peer over the bard’s shoulder. 

“a diary? jaskier, you risked your life for some songs?” he still wants to throttle him. jaskier laughs nervously, standing up and brushing his trousers off. 

“yes, yes, just a diary. i suppose it is a bit silly.” he waves his hand airily, clearly trying to wriggle his way out of talking about it. geralt narrows his eyes in suspicion.

“jaskier, what’s in the book?” he asks, voice deceivingly calm. jaskier sees through it, of course. his eyes widen in panic, uncertain smile on his face.

“oh, you know, a little poetry here, a sprinkle of lyrics there. purely the ramblings of a bard.” he replies, hiding the journal behind his back.

“jaskier.” geralt growls out a warning in that tone of voice he always uses when his patience wears thin. 

jaskier, very familiar with this tone, squeaks out an “eep” unbecoming of a man of his size, and bolts. 

“jaskier!” geralt yells, fully angry now, running after the stupid bard. he chases him back to their camp. jaskier tries hiding behind roach, who is having none of this and simply steps away from the two men, revealing jaskier to the witcher. “jaskier,” he says again, “what is in that book.” the need to know was screaming at him now.

“why do you want to know? it’s personal!”

“why? why? maybe because you risked your life for that fucking journal, you fucker.” 

“so?”

“so? so you’re in my care and i need to keep you from danger.”

“in your care? i’m not a child.”

“oh yes you fucking are if you do shit like this.”

stubborn, foolish, terrifying, terrifying.

jaskier presses his lips together, wide eyes watching geralt as if he’s about to pounce. and maybe he is, judging by the rising tension in the bard’s legs, ready to run away again. so he does. pounce, that is. toppling his bard over.

he reaches for the diary but the bard stretches out his arms and goddamn his long fucking arms goddamn it, jaskier “give me the fucking diary!” 

“geralt, you pigheaded, mulish, stroppy -”

“stroppy?”

“yes, stroppy, you son of a -” jaskier’s cut off by a hand in his face as geralt tries to gain some leverage to reach the stupid book. finally, his hand closes around the leather binding the pages together and he snatches it out of jaskier’s hand. the momentum of pulling his hand away before jaskier could reach out again makes him fall back. he uses it to roll back further, landing in a crouch. 

he flips the pages of the journal open, eager to finally learn what jaskier would risk his life for only to find...flowers. dozens of them. mostly wildflowers. daisies, buttercups, dandelions, morning glories, coneflowers, daffodils pressed between the pages of the well-worn, well-loved book. he blinks. he blinks again and looks up at jaskier who is looking at him nervously. 

“you put yourself in danger for this?” geralt asks incredulously.

“they’re...they’re important to me.” jaskier mutters, fiddling with his fingers. geralt, speechless, looks back down at the book. he runs his fingers over a dandelion. was this all of them? every flower he’s every given to jaskier? all of his little signs of gratitude? geralt scrunches his nose and feels his ears heat up. he closes the book and gives it back to jaskier who takes it gingerly. 

geralt stands up and reaches a hand down to the bard. he looks up at him with those blue eyes, embarrassed heat across his cheeks. he takes the hand and lets himself be pulled up. geralt continues to hold his hand.

“don’t do that again. it may be important to you but flowers can be replaced,” he pauses, not able to meet jaskier’s eyes, thumb running over his skin gently, “you can’t be and...and you’re important to me.” 

a blinding smile takes up jaskier’s face and he pulls the witcher by the hand into a hug. “i won’t do it again, my dear,” he whispers and then after a bit “I’m grateful for you.”

geralt tightens his arms around jaskier’s back. “me too.”

[spaceman-earthgirl]

Supercorptober 2021 Day 7: Party

Fic link. Series link.

Lena’s hiding. This is technically her party, she should be out there, talking to the CatCo employees and various party guests, but here she is, hiding in her best friend’s office to avoid any awkward social interactions. Or, more specifically, to avoid having to talk to one person in particular.

At least Kara’s office is a safe space where she shouldn’t be found.

Lena knows she can’t hide in here forever, but for now, she’s going to take advantage of being alone.

She hopes no one has noticed her absence.

No sooner has she had that thought, when the door handle turns and she suddenly finds she’s not alone anymore. She holds her breath for a moment, but then Kara is there, and all the worry turns to relief as she finds her best friend in the doorway, blue eyes filled with concern.

“There you are, is everything okay?”

It does stupid things to her heart that Kara noticed she was missing.

“I’m fine,” Lena smiles. “I just needed a moment.”

“Can I join you?” Kara asks, waiting for Lena’s nod before she steps into the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

“It is your office, after all,” Lena adds, eyes on Kara as she crosses the small room, ends up perched on the edge of her desk.

“Do you want to talk about why you’re hiding in here?” Kara asks after a long moment. She’d wondered if her best friend would let it go. Apparently not.

Lena sighs, but if you can’t talk about this sort of thing with your best friend, then who can you talk about it to? Sure, she’s in love with said best friend, but that’s besides the point right now.

“James asked me out.”

Lena can’t look at Kara as she says it, eyes focused on the twisted fingers in her lap, but when the small “oh” falls from Kara’s mouth, Lena looks up, catching the ripple of Kara’s jaw.

“So…umm…how come you’re hiding in here then?”

“We got interrupted before I could answer this morning, and ever since he’s been trying to talk to me, so I’ve been avoiding him.” The party had started fine, but that was only because James hadn’t arrived yet. But of course he’d be here, he is CatCo’s CEO after all, and she’d spent the first hour of the party after he’d arrived, strategically moving around the room, all the while keeping an eye out for James and avoiding him.

“And you’re avoiding him because…?”

“He looked so hopeful when he asked, I just feel bad saying no and I don’t want to lose him as a friend.”

She’s sure she’s just imagining the way Kara’s shoulders relax.

Usually, she’d have no problem saying no to unwanted advances, but she actually likes James, not in the romantic sense, but she likes working with him, likes being a part of Kara’s group of friends, and she doesn’t want something like this to put it in jeopardy. 

“I considered saying yes,” Lena finds herself admitting too. “It’s nice to feel wanted for once, but it wouldn’t be fair to him and I’d only be stringing him along.” Another reason she’d almost said yes was because she’d wondered if that’s what she’d needed, to get over Kara, to throw herself into another relationship, but that’s not fair to any of them either.

And honestly, she’s content with her life, happy having Kara in it just as she is, as a friend, even if that’s all they’ll ever be.

“I don’t know if I ever told you this, but James and I were nearly a thing, before I realised we should just be friends. And we’re still friends now. He’s a good guy, he’ll understand and accept your decision if you tell him no.” Kara pauses. “And if he doesn’t, then I can deal with him for you,” she grins, clenching her fists, looking ready to fight. “I can even throw him off this planet, if you like.”

Lena laughs, already feeling better. “That won’t be necessary but thank you.” Her smile falls as she sighs. “I suppose we should get back out there.”

“Or…”

Lena lifts an eyebrow. “Or?”

“Or we steal as much food as we can carry and sneak out. We can go back to my place, eat food, and have a party of our own.”

“I should really go and talk to James.” She already feels bad, avoiding him, she should just go and talk to him, get it over with. Knowing Kara is here helps.

Kara gives her a small smile “Okay,” she nods. “New plan, you go and talk to James, I’ll get the food, and we’ll meet back here in ten and we can go back to my apartment and watch a movie and eat food until we feel sick?”

Lena laughs. “Sounds like a plan.” She figures she’s made enough of an appearance at this party anyway.

She finds James easy enough in the crowd and the conversation is quick and painless and she should’ve just done this earlier as he smiles and nods at her answer.

She makes her way back to Kara’s office, talking to a few people on the way, and when she returns, she finds a mountain of food sitting on Kara’s desk, her best friend standing beside the pile, looking uncharacteristically nervous as fingers adjust her glasses.

Lena’s never seen Kara ignore food when it’s right there.

“Is everything okay?” Lena asks.

“I…” Kara swallows, glancing through the open door, so Lena steps inside and closes it, giving them some privacy once more.

“You said something earlier,” Kara starts again, fingers now twisting together in front of her. “You said it’s nice to feel wanted, like it doesn’t happen often, but I want you.” Lena’s breath catches. “It might not be the best time to say it, maybe I should’ve told you months ago, or maybe I should have never have told you at all, but I want you, and I wish I had the courage to just ask you out like James did.”

“You want…” Lena breathes, she can’t even get the words out, it just doesn’t make sense. She never imagined that Kara might want this too.

“I want you,” Kara says, nerves from before gone, words said loud and clear, ringing through the small room. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

Kara’s been brave, Lena can be brave too. “You already have me,” she says, stepping into Kara’s space, hands rising to cup Kara’s cheeks. “You’ve always had me.”

“Can I kiss you?” Kara whispers into the small gap between them, blue eyes so close.

Lena’s not sure how they got here from her hiding in this very office, hiding from the advances of someone else, but she’s not going to complain as she nods.

This is everything she’s ever wanted.

Kara’s nose bumps into hers in the next moment and it’s a little clumsy, but no less perfect when Kara’s lips meet hers, warm and gentle. Lena hums into the kiss, relaxes into Kara’s embrace as hands land on her hips, as Kara crowds her against the desk so she’s surrounded completely by her best friend.

Though, this isn’t exactly best friend behaviour.

“I want you too,” Lena breathes into the kiss. She’s not sure she exactly said it before, but she wants Kara to know to. “I love you.”

Kara pulls away then, but not before Lena feels the way Kara’s lips curve up against her own. “You love me?” she grins. “Rao, this really is the best evening ever.”

Lena laughs. “Are you sure that’s not the big pile of food behind you?”

Kara barely spares the food a glance before soft eyes are back on her. She shakes her head. “Definitely this.” She peaks Lena’s lips. “And I love you, too.”

[loki--fics]

Hey !!! I love your writing !!! Could I possibly request a super fluffy like wedding day where both you and Loki are nervous but it all goes away when you see each other and a wee lil bit of smut at the end? Totally cool if not !!! ✨💜

sorry this took so long, this was by far my longest oneshot! i wanted to fit in as much detail as possible, though i was tempted to turn this into a series as well haha. thank you for the request though, and feel free to ask for more :)) i hope you enjoy!

~

Loki's Bride

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,668

Content Warnings: fluff, lots of smut at the end

~

It was late afternoon, the warm sun guarding against the chill of the autumn breeze. You sat in front of the window, your eyes closed as a handmaiden worked on your makeup, another one standing behind you working on your hair. They had been doing this for what felt like ages, but you didn't mind; it took your mind off of how nervous you were. But then, you had reason to be nervous - today was your wedding day.

The crisp breeze wafted in from the open window, caressing your skin like a whisper, but you could barely feel it over the cold pricks of anxiety. You and Frigga had been planning this day for months now, and throughout the months you had been excited, but now that the day was here, you were nervous.

"It is time for the dress, Lady Y/N," Said the handmaiden who did your hair. You recalled her stating that her name was Ingrid, and the other maiden was named Eira.

Nodding, you stood and walked with Ingrid to the wardrobe, from which she grabbed a large garment bag.

"Her Majesty had this dress made for you," Eira said happily as Ingrid unzipped the bag. You were met by the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, a creamy off-white number with off the shoulder sleeves and intricate gold lacing, the skirt wide and puffy with a short train. Its beauty was almost unreal.

"It's gorgeous," You said, your fingers brushing the fabric.

Eira slipped your robe off of your shoulders, placing it on the bed as Ingrid helped you carefully step into the dress. As she zipped up the back, it hugged your waist and bosom snugly, but not uncomfortably tight. It was a perfect fit, as were the shoes and the waist belt for the dagger ceremony.

"This is amazing," You breathed, smoothing out the dress. It felt as though you had been transported into a faerie tale, with the dress, the handmaidens, the stunning view you had from your window, and the fact that you were marrying a prince.. You were afraid it was too good to be true.

A knock sounded at the door, and Eria walked over to answer it. "Your Majesty!" She said, bowing. "I was wondering when you would arrive, we've just finished getting Y/N into her dress."

Your eyes met Frigga's as she walked into the room, ever the epitome of grace. "Dearest Y/N, you look beautiful!" She said happily, her eyes trailing over you.

"Thank you," You replied, bowing slightly. "The dress.. I'm not sure how I could ever thank you for it, it's perfect."

Frigga waved you off. "I assure you no thanks are needed." It was then that you noticed the square, velvet box in her hands, and she followed your eyes downward. "Oh, yes. This is for you as well, dear." She opened it, and resting inside was a beautiful gold circlet with emeralds and diamonds inlaid, delicately woven to resemble leaves.

"Oh, Frigga, you shouldn't have," You said, feeling tears well up in your eyes. "I couldn't possibly accept this!"

"You can, and you will," She said gently, removing the circlet from the box. Gently clasping it at the back of your head, she turned you toward the mirror. "Go look."

Your eyes widened in shock as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Never in your life had you looked so beautiful, you were sure of it; your skin had a dewey glow, your hair was left down and curled simply, with intricate braids on either side of your head connecting in the back, the circlet pulling the whole look together. You truly looked like royalty.

The thought still nagged, however, that this was all too good to be true. Turning away from the mirror with a sigh, you took a seat in front of the window once more.

"Is there something troubling you?" Frigga asked, shooing the handmaidens out of the room and taking a seat on the wooden bench next to you, her eyes alight with worry.

"This seems too good to be true," You admitted. "What if Loki realises that he's making a mistake, or he realises he doesn't love me anymore? I'm only a mortal, and he's going to live on far longer after I've gone from this world."

Placing her hand over yours, she spoke. "I know my son, Y/N, and I can see from the way he looks at you how deeply he loves you. Please trust that all will be well."

"He's going to have to watch me grow old and sick and die, while he stays perfect," You voiced. You had realised this quite some time ago, but hadn't let yourself truly come to terms with it until now, and you felt yourself begin to panic. "I'm going to die centuries before him, and then he'll remarry, and-"

"Y/N!" Frigga said, snapping you out of your ramblings. "Do not think of such things. Focus your mind on the love you hold for him, and the love he holds for you; a love as true and pure as yours does not happen often, believe that Loki will not allow anything to happen to you."

"Your Majesty," Ingrid spoke from the doorway. "It's time."

As the two of you stood, Frigga wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace. "Focus on your love for him," She repeated in your ear. "All will be well, I promise."

~time skip~

All too soon, you stood facing the doors that led out into the garden, where the wedding was taking place. Thor was at your side, your arm looped through his as the two of you waited for the music to start, your cue to walk down the aisle.

"What if I forget my vows?" You asked frantically. "What am I supposed to do then?"

Thor chuckled, patting your hand. "Lady Y/N, you have been studying your vows for weeks, I have good faith that you will not forget them. However, if you do, simply speak from your heart."

You heard the low sound of the music begin, and that meant there was only a moment before the doors would open and you would face the people of Asgard and the Allfather, and you felt your heart race. "Please don't let me fall," You whispered.

"Never," Thor whispered back, squeezing your hand. Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders as the doors opened.

It took only a moment for your eyes to adjust to the light, and almost immediately you spotted Loki. As you and Thor began walking slowly, you watched Loki's eyes widen as he looked at you, his lips parting slightly as a blush rose to his cheeks. You saw nothing but love in his eyes, and you smiled as your own eyes took him in, looking handsome as ever in the Asgardian leather suit he so prided himself on.

Looking down, you saw that the white carpet that stretched from the doors to the altar was sprinkled with beautiful red bougainvillea flowers, which you'd requested as soon as you'd discovered that they were Loki's favourite. He noticed this as well, looking down at the flowers and giving you a small smile.

There were hundreds of people in attendance, most of them being residents of Asgard, many of whom you had yet to meet, all standing with their eyes on you. You saw many happy smiles, but also caught a few jealous stares from some of the women, and flushed. Continuing your slow steps, you focused your gaze back on the handsome groom waiting for you.

As you neared the altar, you spotted your team - your family, standing in the front rows greeting you with wide smiles. When you had first told them about your relationship with Loki, a year and a half after he'd returned to New York to gain pardon from the people of Earth, and six months after your relationship had begun, they were understandably shocked. But through your time spent with him, he had shown you a softer, gentler side to him, one that they had not yet seen. An even bigger shock came when Loki had proposed to you in front of everyone at the New Year's Eve party that Tony had thrown, but now, they expressed nothing but happiness for the two of you.

You felt your heart swell as you looked at them, even more so as you looked back at Loki, and it took everything in you not to pick up your dress, run to your groom, and throw yourself into his arms. This was everything you had dreamt of and more since he proposed to you eight months ago, and you wanted to laugh at yourself for being so nervous. How could you have thought, even for a second, that he would just stop loving you?

Thor pulled his arm out of yours, placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling as he took his place with the rest of the team in the front row. You picked up your dress and walked up the steps of the beautiful stone gazebo, decorated with bright, beautiful flowers and leaves, taking your place across from him.

"You are stunning, my love," Loki said quietly, his blue eyes gazing into your e/c ones as he took your hands.

"As are you," You replied, squeezing his hands. "I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"Nor can I."

The music quieted as Odin stepped in front of the two of you and raised his hands, cueing everyone to take their seats.

"Good evening, people of Asgard and guests." Lowering his hands, he continued. "Today, we have taken ourselves out of our usual routines of daily living to witness the union between Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard." He gestured to each of you respectively. "As Loki and Y/N prepared for the ceremony, they took time to reflect upon what it is they love in the other, and they will now state these vows, starting with the groom."

Loki smiled at you lovingly. "I, Loki of Asgard, by the life and seidr that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you within my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. There is not a moment where you do not take my breath away, and I will never seek to change you in any way. I will trust and respect you as your own person and realise that your needs are no more important than my own.

"I hereby promise to love you wholly and completely, without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in this life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I will grow along with you and I am willing to face change with you. I will always respect you, your beliefs, your people and your ways as I respect myself, as I am your partner and we shall be equal in all things.

"I cannot begin to describe how happy I am to have won the joy of such a consort, and I will forever delight in the love of you. I will cherish each tear to fall from your eyes, both in sadness and in joy, and I will do my best to ensure you are safe and secure, and to honour the love you have for me. To find someone as special as you, out of all in the Nine Realms, is something I never imagined possible. Today, Y/N, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

You couldn't stop the tears that welled up in your eyes as he finished, looking at you with such love and adoration you had to restrain yourself from kissing him then.

"And now, the bride will state her vows," Odin said.

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed Loki's hands. "I, Y/N of Midguard, by the life that flows through my blood and the love that resides for you in my heart, take you by my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. I promise to love you when you are confident in yourself, as well as when you cannot bear your own reflection. I will love you when all is perfect, and when it seems all is falling apart. I promise to never judge you, nor your feelings, and to listen to you always, even when it's hard.

"From the moment our paths crossed you have surprised me, distracted me, captivated me, and challenged me in a way that no one ever has. I have fallen in love with you countless times, again and again, without reservation, and I still cannot believe that I am allowed the honour of being your bride.

"Whilst I cannot promise that dark clouds will never hover over our lives, or that the future will bring us many rainbows, I can promise that regardless of what lies ahead I will be by your side through all of it. You have my everlasting devotion, my loyalty, my respect, and my unconditional love.

"You are what makes my life a joy to live, and I vow to cherish every moment that I get to spend in your company. I would, on no uncertain terms, do anything for you. I will always choose you, in this life and every one beyond, in any world, and in any version of reality, I will find and choose you. Today, Loki, I give myself to you and vow to love you eternally."

"Now," The Allfather said after a beat of silence, "The couple will now exchange their handmade daggers."

The two of you released each other's hands, and you turned behind you to receive the dagger that you had made for Loki from Frigga. At the same time, Loki had turned to Odin for the dagger he made for you. Turning back to each other, you each held up your daggers, then Loki leaned toward you and placed the dagger into your waist belt, and once he was finished you repeated his actions, placing your dagger into his waist belt.

"Present your rings," Odin said, and both of you complied.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," Loki said as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"I give you this ring as a symbol of my love everlasting," You repeated, sliding the ring onto his finger.

Odin spoke once more. "Loki of Asgard, and Y/N of Midguard, today you celebrate one of life's greatest moments and give recognition to the worth and beauty of love. As you have stated your vows with your lips, so you shall seal them with your lips."

Throwing your arms around your now husband, you pressed your lips to his with such force it was as though you had been starved of his kiss for years. The thundering applause and shrill cheers seemed to fade away as you kissed Loki, your fingers tangling in his jet black hair as his hands wrapped around your waist and lifted you, spinning you in a circle.

Setting you back down, Loki broke the kiss, leaning his head against yours and looking at you longingly. "I love you so very much, Y/N," He whispered with a smile.

"I love you, too, Loki," You whispered back, feeling happier than you had ever thought possible.

~time skip~

After you had changed out of your wedding dress into your reception dress, you and Loki enjoyed the festivities and feast for a while, dancing in merriment with everyone until Loki had pulled you aside.

"I need to speak with you," He said lowly, leading you over to the balcony. The two of you stepped out into the crisp night air, and Loki shut the doors, presenting you with a black box.

"What is this?" You asked, confused.

"I have one last proposal to make," He said, getting down on one knee. "If you truly wish to spend forever with me," Opening the box, a single apple that appeared to be made of gold rested inside, "All you need do is eat this apple."

Your throat felt tight as you looked at the apple. "Loki…"

"This is an Apple of Idun, it is what originally granted the Gods and Goddesses immortality, and if you wish, it will grant it for you as well," He explained.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you touched the apple. It was cool, and felt like a normal apple. Frigga's words from earlier when you voiced your fear of dying before Loki poured into your mind and you gasped. "Frigga-?"

"It was her idea," He admitted. "She convinced Idun to spare an apple in the name of love. Do you accept?"

You sank to your knees, putting yourself at the same level as Loki. "Forever?" You asked, searching his eyes.

"Forever," Loki replied sincerely.

Slowly grasping the apple, you considered the weight of what you were about to do. Were you truly ready to give up mortal life, to live for thousands of years like the people of Asgard?

Looking into Loki's blue eyes, full of love and hope, you knew the only answer was yes. For him, you would do anything.

Bringing the apple to your lips, you sunk your teeth into the soft flesh, biting a chunk out and chewing it slowly. It was sweeter than any apple you'd ever eaten on Earth, perfectly ripe with juices trickling down your chin. Taking another bite, you almost moaned at how delicious it was, reveling in the taste. It seemed the apple had no core, no seeds, so it was unable to be replanted, and you were able to eat the entire thing.

You felt something akin to the feeling of your limbs falling asleep, the tingling sensation spreading over the whole of your body. Your vision blurred, and you would have fallen back if Loki had not caught you and laid you in his lap. A strange, out of body feeling overtook you, as though you were hovering over the two of you, the body laying in Loki's lap no longer yours. It was as if the universe had poured a bit of its everlasting essence into your veins, feeling like the purest magic had filled your body. Then, as soon as it started, it was over.

Vision cleared, you looked up at your husband, seeing him much more clearly than you had before. Every strand of hair caught your attention, every wrinkle in his suit, every line in his hands.

"You are breathtaking," You gasped, your eyes wide in awe. "What just happened?"

Loki smiled softly. "You became immortal."

Sitting up, you threw your arms around Loki, and he grunted, your new strength taking him by surprise. "I cannot wait to spend forever with you," You whispered. "I love you so much."

"Nor can I, my love," He whispered back.

~ time skip ~

The two of you had rejoined the festivities, dancing and grazing on the plethora of food, conversing with the people of Asgard and your team, but now it was time for your honeymoon to officially begin.

Grasping your hand, Loki put his lips to your ear. "I do believe it is time we consummate our marriage, my love," He said lowly.

You felt heat blossom in your core, and blushed. Bidding goodnight to your team, you followed Loki out of the room, followed by a chorus of cheers and wolf-whistles. Tonight was the first night you were to be intimate with Loki in such a manner - he had been being watched by Heimdall and the Allfather most of the time the two of you had been dating, so you had only been able to steal kisses here and there. Not the most romantic, but it was better than nothing.

Now, however, as Loki pulled you to his chambers, you felt almost as nervous, if not more so, than you had before the ceremony. No one was watching you now, the two of you were utterly alone.

Loki stopped outside the door to his chambers, turning to you. For a moment you were confused, but then he scooped you up, bridal style, and carried you over the threshold. The door closed with a solid thud behind you as he walked you to his bed, setting you down gently. After the ceremony you had changed into a shorter dress, the hem reaching your mid-thigh, with a white skirt and lace top that wrapped around your neck. Now, Loki eyed it hungrily, wanting it off.

Gently holding the back of your head in his hand, Loki kissed you, laying you down slowly as he hovered above you. His lips claimed yours completely, his tongue swiping along your lower lip. You gasped lightly, and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Feeling a familiar tingling sensation, you realised Loki had used his magic to remove the clothing from both of you, leaving you in undergarments, and you blushed, instinctively moving your arms to cover yourself.

Pulling back, Loki met your eyes. "Hear this now. You need never cover yourself in front of me. You are a treasure to behold, my love, and in my eyes, you are nothing short of perfection." His hands gently pried yours away from your body, his eyes relishing the sight. "There is not a single soul in the Nine Realms that I would rather be with right now, and not a single thing in the Nine Realms that could take me away from you. I love you, not only for your body but for your soul, your mind, your heart and your spirit."

He said every word with such sincerity, his eyes showing nothing but love for you, that you could think of only one thing to say.

"Kiss me."

He did, with an intensity that rivaled every other kiss he'd ever given you, including your wedding kiss. It was so filled with passion that you were certain no being in the Nine Realms and beyond had shared such a kiss before, it felt as though the universe itself was bowing from the vehemence of the kiss.

Every inch of your skin that Loki caressed seemed to be set alight, and you were certain that, had you not been holding him, you would have floated away to Valhalla. You felt his hardened member brush the thin lace veil that covered your core, and were unable to quiet the moan that fell from your lips as your hips bucked, desperate for more.

Loki's lips left yours, venturing down your jaw, your neck, your collar, kissing every inch of exposed skin. You were hot and cold all at once, your body nearly vibrating from the force of your arousal as his lips travelled lower, between your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs. He peppered delicate kisses along the inside of your thighs, looking up at you as his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties.

"Is this okay?" He asked, pausing.

"Oh Gods yes, Loki," You breathed, your chest heaving with the force of your breaths as you met his eyes.

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled the thin lace fabric down your hips, tossing them to the side as he took in the sight of your glistening core before him. He pressed two long, dexterous digits against your opening, sliding them inside of you and pumping at an agonisingly slow pace. His head dipped down, lips just barely brushing your sensitive nub, inhaling your sweet, musky odour before pressing a kiss to your core.

"Please, Loki, stop teasing me," You whined, gripping the sheets.

He smirked. "As you wish." With force, he launched an assault with his lips, his tongue expertly swirling around your nub whilst his fingers curled perfectly against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you moaned loudly, fingers tangling in his soft raven locks.

Loki's free hand gripped your thigh so tightly as he devoured you, you were sure it would bruise. He moaned, sending delicious vibrations through your core and your orgasm ripping through you with a force you had never before felt, your body set aflame as his name fell repeatedly like a prayer from your lips.

Pulling his head back, your husband looked at you with dark, lust filled eyes as he brought his fingers, covered with your arousal, to his lips. Slowly, he put them in his mouth, sucking off every bit of your juices before pulling them out and climbing on top of you, pressing a kiss to your lips and allowing you to taste yourself.

"You are sweeter than the finest søt vin," Loki said lowly.

Butterflies were no match for the hurricane that erupted in your stomach. "I want you," You begged softly. "All of you. I'm yours."

With a flick of his wrist, the rest of the clothing was removed from both of you. Your eyes moved down, almost of their own accord, taking in the size of his member. You were no virgin, and you were sure Loki wasn't, either but you had never been with someone of such size and girth, and it would be dishonest to say you weren't intimidated.

"I'll be gentle, love," He said softly, his hand caressing your cheek.

"I trust you," You replied, leaning into his touch.

Kissing you softly, you felt the God position his manhood at your entrance, sinking himself into you slowly. He groaned at your tightness, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he waited for your hole to adjust to his large size. The sensation of being so wholly filled by him was a bit painful, your walls stretching to their limit as they tried to accommodate him, and after a moment you bucked your hips.

Pumping into you slowly, the pain morphed into pleasure as your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing him to sink deeper into you. He quickened the motions of his hips, the head of his manhood perfectly hitting your g-spot as he thrust into you. Both of you were moaning, your lips roaming each other, hands groping anywhere they could reach as Loki plunged into your opening again and again.

"Please, harder," You moaned, gripping his shoulders.

All too happy to oblige your request, Loki brought his hips to meet yours with such force that you saw stars. Moaning loudly, your nails dug into his skin as he thrust into you harder, his movements growing faster as you both neared your climax.

Wrapping his arms around you, Loki pulled you upright so that you were sitting on his lap, continuing to pound into you as he brought your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before nibbling lightly. Delirious with pleasure, you gripped his hair and pulled, earning a loud moan as his nails raked down your back. He smashed his lips to yours, and you bit his lip so hard it drew blood as your orgasm hit you with even more force than the first, your primal screams of pleasure filling the room as he buried himself to the hilt inside of you, releasing his seed as he shouted obscenities.

After a final few pumps, he pulled out of you, the two of you falling back onto the mattress, limbs entangled and your head on his chest.

"I will never grow tired of that," You giggled, fingers drawing lazy swirls on his pale skin. "This has been the best day of my life."

Loki smiled. "It was mine as well." The two of you were covered in a sheen of sweat, and with a lazy wave of his hand, the window opened and a cool breeze wafted over the two of you.

"I love you," You said sleepily.

"I love you," He replied.

"Forever?"

"Forever."

[teyvatdreams]

Square brain anon is back for round two! How do you feel about Albedo, Childe, Diluc, and one character of your choice (separately) with an s/o who is always fidgeting with things and has a tendency to take things apart without really thinking? Like they’re clicking a pen and then suddenly, the pen is completely disassembled. How did this happen? Who knows? What a mystery this is. But don’t worry, they can put it back together. Usually...

them with an s/o who’s always fidgeting / taking things apart

includes: albedo, childe, diluc, and kaeya

albedo

whenever you’re with albedo in his lab, you usually just take notes for him

alchemy isn’t exactly your thing

when he has to make a trip to mondstadt, you tell him you’ll look after the lab

you just didn’t expect it to be so… boring

“i’m back,” albedo says, stepping into the lab. “sorry it took a bit longer than expected, all the adventurers wanted to… talk to me…” he stops his words when he realizes you aren’t listening — you’re too focused on the pen in your hands, almost masterfully repairing it after taking it apart.

as you snap the last piece back in place, you turn to look at him. “oh, hi. welcome back,” you say, giving him a smile. you pick up your clipboard and attempt to click your pen. however, it takes a few firm clicks to actually get the tip of the pen to appear. “shall we continue our research?”

“did you take apart your pen again?” he asks.

you nod. “yeah… got bored.” you say, shrugging. you try clicking the pen again, and it loudly squeaks from the side effects of being taken apart and put back together again multiple times.

albedo sighs, but then chuckles. “guess i’ll have to start investing in new pens.”

childe

upon arriving in liyue, both you and childe purchased a kamera from the man who practically yelled at you to

you ended up not minding though

it was fun to take pictures of childe

but it was even more fun to take yours apart and put it back together

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel proud every time you managed to put it back together perfectly

so why wasn’t childe’s kamera doing the same?

you weren’t exactly sure why you wanted to take childe’s kamera apart. it was different from yours, and it was calling your name. you had gotten so used to taking yours apart that you could probably do it with your eyes closed. (childe had to stop you from taking it apart in public once.)

you scratch your head, trying to figure out where the last few pieces of the kamera were supposed to go. you furrow your brows. where did all of these extra pieces come from?

your heart sinks when you hear childe enter through the front door. panicked, you shove the final pieces into the kamera, cringing at the horrible sound it made. you quickly set it down from where you had picked it up just in time, as childe enters the room a few moments later.

it’s as if he can tell you were up to something. he squints. “are you okay?”

“i’m fine.” you reply quickly, smiling. “just fine.”

“…alright… uh, do you want to go out? we can get dinner. the sunset looks really beautiful tonight.” he suggests.

you nod. “yes! yes, that’s a great idea. we should definitely leave!”

“okay, perfect. let me just grab my kamera. i want to take a picture of you with the sunset.” he walks to where you’re standing, reaching behind you to grab the broken gadget. you don’t even have time to stop him.

when he picks it up, it just falls apart. the pieces of the kamera fall to the floor and childe holds the top part that managed to stay intact in his hand.

you give him a sheepish smile. “so… do you still wanna go out? maybe to buy a new kamera?”

diluc

your fidgeting kinda makes diluc nervous

like, why are you throwing glass bottles around?

why do you take everything apart? and why are you so good at it?

you’ve proven to him multiple times that you usually don’t break things and accidentally cause chaos

he really just doesn’t understand how you do what you do

“please, can i have it back diluc?” you ask, trudging behind him. “i’m not a child!”

“i’m sorry, but no. the glass to these things are very fragile. even dropping it in the grass would break it.” he replies. “i can’t risk you breaking it.”

he had taken your wind catcher, apparently nervous that you’d drop it while fidgeting as always. it was pretty important to have it for this mission.

you groan. “why do you think i’m gonna break it? i’ve never broken one before.” you point out.

diluc finally stops in his tracks, giving you a chance to catch up to him. the bottle was firmly grasped in his hand. he sighs and loosens it, holding it towards you. “fine. you’re right, and i trust you.”

“haha! thank you, i promise i won’t—“

time almost seems to slow down as you watch the bottle fall to the ground. it shatters as soon as it hits the grown, a strong gust of wind nearly blowing you off your feet. you look back at diluc, whose hair has been completely messed up from the wind.

“um… let the wind lead?” you say softly, chuckling.

kaeya

kaeya was surprised to say the least when he realized how much time you spent with klee

maybe it was because you felt bad that the young girl got often reprimanded by him and jean

he was just trying to keep everyone safe

bombs are no joke

bombs. are. no. joke. right?

“what is that?”

you nearly jump out of your skin at kaeya’s voice behind you, and you try to hide the bomb-making materials behind you. “ah, nothing…” you say.

“is that…” kaeya peers behind you. “one of klee’s bombs?”

“i mean…” you turn to look behind you. “it’s a jumpy dumpty. please respect his name.”

“you’re helping klee make bombs?” he asks. “we’re trying to stop her, and you’re helping her?”

“no, i just… well… okay… yes, i’m helping her but it’s only because i like building them! i just take them apart and put them back together again, add a different face to it and give it back to klee.” you admit.

kaeya sighs, rubbing his temple. “you’ve been building bombs for klee behind my back… do you need to go into solitary confinement too?” he asks, holding back a smile.

“no, no! i promise i make sure she only uses the jumpy dumpty in an empty, open area! no one has ever gotten hurt! kaeya, please don’t tell jean about-“

“alright,” kaeya cuts you off. “fine. i’ll let you keep being klee’s enabler. but only if you add an eyepatch to the one you’re making right bow.”

[sundaysundaes]

Love Bites

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader, ft. Mark Lee | Vampire AU, Roommates AU | Smut, Fluff, Humor, Romance

Summary: Supernatural creatures don’t scare you, so when the cute neighbor who lives just across the hallway offers you a chance to move in for cheaper rent, you agree in a heartbeat--even when he consumes human blood on a daily basis.

Warnings: Smut, vampire sex, sex in front of a mirror, blood sucking, unprotected sex, slight choking. For the sake of the plot, Y/N is slightly intoxicated in this fic (drunk sex). Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

Supernatural things don’t really scare you. Growing up in a family that tells urban legends and mystical myths as bedtime stories makes you feel somewhat reserved toward spooky stuff, to the point that you won’t even bat an eyelash during a jump scare at literally any scary movie out there. It’s not like you’ve seen any supernatural creatures with your own eyes but you believe in their existence, especially when you live in a town where freaky things happen on daily basis. 

You’re not sure about werewolves and zombies, but vampires do roam the earth the second the moon replaces the sun. It’s not merely a rumor anymore, it’s a fact. But they keep their presence in secret, trying to act as humanly as possible so they won’t gather unnecessary attention. And since no one has found any dead bodies with bite marks or severe blood loss, people don’t really identify them as a threat. You perceive things in a similar way. As long as they don’t bother you, then you can co-exist in peace. That’s what you believe.

So when you visit your neighbor in the middle of the night, the cute guy—probably still in his early twenties—who lives just across the hallway, you figure you’ll see him smiling back, maybe even offer you a cup of coffee out of courtesy. Now, you don’t usually barge into someone else’s apartment even when the front door is unlocked, but seeing how the two of you are already on a first-name basis, always greet each other with a nod whenever your eyes make eye contact, you think to yourself, “Yeah, he wouldn’t mind if I come in, would he? What’s the worst thing that could happen? He’s too cute to be a serial killer anyway.” Which, you realize soon enough, was a poor, terrible logic on your part. 

But you turn over his doorknob with a click and invite yourself in.

So clearly, you do not expect to see him sitting bare-chested on the couch with his girlfriend’s legs hooked around his waist. Clearly, you do not expect to see his hand yanking at the roots of her hair, forcing her to expose the column of her neck and making her call his name in the most wanton moan you’ve ever heard in your life—even if you’ve had a fair share of watching porn movies (for research purposes). And you most clearly do not expect to see him sinking his canines deep into her skin, not caring when trails of blood start to taint her bare shoulder and groaning in bliss as he relishes the taste of her blood.

So naturally, the only thing you can think of is:

Oh shit.

“Wait!” A hand finds its way to tangle around your wrist when you slip behind his front door to run back to your own. His icy cold skin makes you flinch in surprise but you keep your face still. As you turn around to see the owner, you’re greeted by the sight of him with his eyes turning as dark as the night. His brunette hair is made of curls and waves, seems unbelievably soft and silky with bangs almost covering his eyes. His lips and cheeks are smeared with fresh blood, possibly from trying to wipe his mouth in hurry with the back of his hand. His fangs are no longer shown and although he seems breathless, you can tell he’s not breathing from how still his chest is moving (but you’re too distracted with the sight of how toned it is). His black jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips, unbuttoned but not yet unzipped, and it’s harder for you to not stare at his v-lines compared to the amount of blood that painted his lips.

Trying to act nonchalant, you simply ask, “Yes?”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, so you’re not a vampire drinking blood from your girlfriend’s neck?”

He gapes, eyes growing wide, before, “Okay, then it is what it looks like.”

You retract your hand, giving him a formal nod. “Cool.” 

“Cool?”  

“Yeah, as in, no problem. You have a kink. I understand.”

“No, I mean—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, somewhat dizzy from your reaction. “Why are you so calm about this?”

You frown. “I’m confused. Would you rather have me freak-out and tell our landlord that you’ve been spilling maiden’s blood on his carpet?”

“Well, no, but—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Also, I’m a professional. I don’t leave stains.”

“Congratulations, I’m impressed.” You clap your hands twice, face blank. “Well anyway, I guess I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to sneak into your apartment without permission and disturb your…” You scratch your cheek, attempting to find the right word. “Late night snacking time—”

“Oh, God.” He rubs his palm over his face but before he can protest any further, his lover is calling him from the inside of his room.

“Lee Donghyuck, come back to me. I haven’t come yet.”

You stare flatly at him, trying not to look as judgmental as possible but most likely failing terribly at it. “She sounds nice.”

He mirrors the look on your face. “Yeah well, she tastes nice.”

“Ugh, too much info there, buddy.”

“No, I mean, her blood, not—” You’re not sure whether vampires can blush but this one surely seems like one. “Why did you even come here again?”

“Oh, that’s right.” You remember. “This is totally cliche and I wish I could say a better excuse but I was making coffee and ran out of sugar. Do you have some I can borrow? And maybe some cream?”

“Seriously?” It’s supposed to be a sarcastic response, but when he sees you nodding your head, he adds, “Do I look like I drink coffee in my spare time?”

“You spend eternity without drinking coffee?” You gasp, laying a hand on your heart. “I feel sorry for you.”

“Leave. Please.”

***

On the next evening, you find yourself crossing the hallway and knocking on his apartment’s door again. Knowing how patience has never been one of your virtues, you try to turn his doorknob after your third knock. Like last night, it’s unlocked with a click so you invite yourself in, calling his name.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you here—”

“I really need to fix that stupid lock.” 

The sound of his voice startles you when he suddenly walks into view, but not as much as the sight of him with a white towel hanging around his neck, his wet hair dripping water to his bare chest, and another towel wrapped around his waist. 

He notices you’re staring so with a small smirk, he comments, “So you’re fine seeing me with human’s blood on my face but completely left in shocked when I’m half-naked?”

You put your best effort to act unfazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do know us vampires can tell when you’re lying, right? We can hear your heartbeat.”

“And yet, you didn’t hear me coming into your apartment last night.”

“I was…” He narrows his eyes. “Distracted.”

“You mean you were too horny to notice.”

“You—” He exhaled loudly, perhaps a habit he invented to make him seem more human. “Why are you here again today?”

“Can’t I greet my neighbor?”

He snorts loudly but walks away, throwing himself on the couch. “Seriously, why aren’t you surprised about this?”

“About you being a vampire? Or about your God awful taste in women?”

“Yeah?” He mocks back, making a face. “As if your boyfriend Mark Lee is any better.” When he sees a blush blooming on your face, he snickers. “Enlighten me, Sweetheart. How does it feel to have a lover that only last for one minute during—”

“Okay, I’ll take my words back. Everything. Can we move on, please?” You try to yank yourself back to your normal state, even when you feel downright ashamed. “So, this vampire thing. How long have you been a vampire?”

“Long enough.”

“How old were you when you first turned?”

“Young enough.”

“How often do you drink human blood?“

“Often enough.”

You glare at him, earning a sly grin in return. “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?”

He sends you the best serious expression he can manage. “Serious enough.”

“Right, okay, I’m leaving. Have fun being an asshole for eternity.”

But the second you turn around in your heels, Donghyuck is already on the other side of the room,  closing his front door and leaning his back against it. “Now, now, you come in as you please, uninvited. You don’t think I’ll let you go just like that, right?”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you want?”

“I think it’s something that we both want.” He steps closer, voice sounding smooth and alluring. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

You gulp, suddenly becoming nervous. He’s an arms reach away, and then closer, and closer until you can feel his cold fingers tracing against your cheekbone, lifting your face so his eyes are locked with yours. 

“I’m—” You can feel your breathing starts to stutter. “I’m not giving you my blood.”

“But it’s not blood that I want from you.” His eyes are half-lidded, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about this so much lately.”

Your heart feels like a ticking bomb inside your chest. “A-about what?”

“About our rent. Do you want to move in together so we can split the rental fee?”

***

It’s both ridiculous and dumb, his offer to move in together for cheaper rent, so it’s even more ridiculous and dumb when you agree to it. There are several reasons that make sense, actually—at least, to you anyway: 1) your neighbor may be a vampire but he’s super hot and although that doesn’t make everything okay, it does make his offer sound incredibly tempting, 2) your landlord is going to raise the rent in the following two months, 3) your part-time job’s salary can only cover so much of your living cost and you have no savings whatsoever, 4) if you can ignore the fact that he brings random girls at night for midnight snacks, he becomes much, much hotter.

Of course, there are risks to think about as well. Sharing a place with another person can bring trouble, so you can only imagine how troublesome would it be to share your home with a vampire. What if he gets too thirsty and starts drinking from you instead? 

You gulp. The thought of it is actually kind of… sexy.

Mark. You mentally slap yourself in the head. You have a boyfriend. Stop crushing on your damn neighbor.

Well, there is nothing serious going on with Mark actually. You guys were just lab partners in high school, went on a couple of dates, had a terribly awkward first kiss, had a heavy make-out session with him ejaculating under one minute when you dry-humped him on the couch of your living room. 

So yeah, nothing serious.

“My apartment or yours?” You ask after a week has passed by, the second he opens his door for you. “Your apartment is bigger, but mine is cleaner.”

“Whatever you want, Sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t mind as long we can split the fee.”

“Yeah, why is that? You’re running out of money?”

His smirk instantly falters. “Well, it’s not exactly easy for vampires to get a job these days.”

“You literally have superhuman skills.”

“Well, you guys have the technology!” He throws his hands in the air, absolutely disgusted with the word by the sight of it. “And the Internet! Sure, I can run pretty fast, I have super hearing, I can see in the dark but these fucking technologies can do literally everything I’m capable of—and everything I’m not capable of—with only a few clicks!”

“Do you need a hug?”

He’s still pouting but shrugs. “Can’t hurt.”

“There, there.” You give him a pat on his back as he leans down so you can reach his height. “I’ll teach you some basic stuff to get you updated.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll get through this.” You pull away, squeezing his shoulders. “So, about moving in together. Shall we talk about house rules and stuff?”

“Sure, but before that,” he smiles, opening his door wider for you. “Come in. I don’t bite.”

It’s something about him using that poor choice of words with that teasing smirk on his face that makes your stomach feel uneasy but you nod and let yourself in. As he closes the door, he adds, “Unless it’s what you’re into.”

“Getting my blood drunk by a vampire?” You scoff, trying to steady your racing heart though he can probably tell already. “Why would it be something I’m into?”

“Well, my ladies surely enjoyed it,” he chuckles and you secretly think to yourself, yeah because you’re fucking hot, that’s why, but you keep yourself ignorant on the outside. “But if you’re ever curious,” he coos, eyes nearly glowing as he pushes his bangs back with one hand, “I’m down anytime you want.”

You shudder, but from disgust or excitement, you’re not sure. “Thanks, but no thanks. So, house rules?”

***

It turns out to be shockingly easy to share an apartment with an undead creature of the night. Your source of information regarding vampires are from the collection of your young adult supernatural novels, ranging from something serious like Interview with The Vampire, to something mediocre like The Vampire Diaries, and something absolutely ridiculous and downright outrageous like Twilight. So it’s not really surprising when your first assumption of vampires are dead people who look unusually pale but strikingly attractive, have constant frowns on their faces as they brood over literally everything that’s happening as if they’re constipated all the time (they’re not, since vampires don’t have that bodily function anymore) and kill people in their spare time by sucking their blood dry.

But Donghyuck isn’t like that at all, to the point you have to convince yourself that he’s a century-old vampire and not a brat going through puberty.

Because Donghyuck isn’t pale, his skin is tan as if he was kissed by the sun when he has been hiding from it his whole life. It’s smooth, unscarred, and almost golden under the fluorescent light of your apartment. 

He’s not heartless either. He cried during watching Hachiko even when the dog owner was still alive and well, shouting, “Bad shit is going to happen. Bad shit is going to happen to the dog—look how cute that dog is—look just how fucking cute he is—he doesn’t deserve any pain—if this dog dies by the end of the movie, I will combust,” to the screen. So the thought of him killing someone by sucking their blood dry? Seems very unlikely.

And he’s not broody or angry all the time. He’s extremely playful and annoyingly mischievous. He keeps his stock of blood in empty bottles of red wine and places them inside the fridge with a handwritten note that says: “It’s really just wine, Sweetheart. I bought some as a housewarming gift. Come take a sip.” You did, once, out of curiosity, and from that day on you promised yourself that you’d never ever trust his words for as long as you live.

Being a monster, he should’ve been the cause of fear, but in reality, he gets scared from a lot of things—even the things that shouldn’t scare a baby. You will never forget the day when a loud crash came thundering from his room, two seconds before he came barging into yours, screaming with wide eyes, “THERE’S A COCKROACH FLYING IN MY ROOM!”

“And what did you do?”

“I THREW THE TV AT IT BUT THAT FUCKING THING STILL LIVES!”

“WHAT?! But that’s our TV!”

“IT WAS FLYING TO MY FACE AND I PANICKED—WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

Even a butterfly that sneaks in from the window makes him jump on his feet. It was cute the first two times it happened, but seeing how he keeps on throwing random things—your phone, included—to keep the bugs away, you probably should start adding another house rule.

Speaking about rules, they’re pretty basic. It’s settled that you’ll both do your cleaning separately. No borrowing things without permission, no spending too much time in the bathroom because although he doesn’t need to go to the toilet, Donghyuck enjoys drawing himself a warm bubble bath for hours, as he takes a sip of his ‘red wine’. And you’re fine with him bringing girls over to your place as long as he does his midnight snacking in his own room. You were against it before but then you figure that you’re going to have Mark in your room from time-to-time (your date night is cheaper this way) so you really don’t have the right to forbid him.

But man, if only you could take back your words.

Because when Donghyuck said his ladies surely enjoyed it when he drank from them, you didn’t think that they would enjoy it this much. And you didn’t think that drinking blood from a human equals having sex with them all night long.

The sound of “Aah, yes fuck me just like that,” and “Bite me again, Lee Donghyuck, I want you to bite me as hard as you fuck me,” can be heard coming endlessly from his bedroom whenever he brings a girl—sometimes even two, for God’s sake—over. You have to plug your AirPods into your ears, blast the volume to the maximum until you can literally feel your ears going deaf while pulling a pillow over your head. And even then you still can hear them. Your apartment has excellent sound-proofed walls so your neighbors don’t really hear the loud screeches they’re making, but for you who sleeps in the room just across the living room? A living hell.

Fortunately, it doesn’t happen every day. It doesn’t happen every week, even, since he always keeps some stocks of blood in the fridge.

“Did you take this blood from those girls?” You grimaced one night, as you opened your refrigerator to slide in your pudding leftover and noticed three huge bottles of red wine completely filled up to the brim.

He laughed, waving a hand. “Of course not, stupid. How could I even do that in the first place? I bought some blood bags from the hospital, obviously.” He was sitting on the couch before but when he delivered his next line, he suddenly stood behind you, lips hovering dangerously close to your ear. “And just in case you’re wondering,” you could feel his smirk grazing your earlobe. “I only drink directly when I want to have sex.”

The heat was spreading almost immediately to your cheeks so you hid it by throwing a punch to his stomach, which he easily dodged. “Still,” you complained, “There’s blood in my fridge.”

“Hey, I never complain when you keep your celery juice in there.” He scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t eat or drink human foods, but who the fuck drinks celery juice?”

***

Donghyuck is also exceptionally talkative, you’ve learned along the way. It’s nice to have someone to fill the silence, moving from one random topic to another, never letting an awkward pause hang for too long. But he can also be exceptionally annoying when you have some papers to do and he’s bothering you because he’s bored out of his mind. He’ll start pestering you with questions—unimportant questions—like, “If you only have one eye, are you blinking or winking?” Or “Why is it that when you are sleeping it's called drool but when you are awake it's called spit?” And the stupidest of them all, “Why did Superman wear his briefs on the outside of his tights? This question intrigues me.”

And you’ll eventually start to lose it, throw a pillow to his face and yell, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

But by the end of the day, it’s really fun to have him around. Not just because you can secretly enjoy the sight of him coming out of your shared bathroom with only a towel hanging low around his hips, but also because he’s a vampire and you can spend your time doing actual research about it.

“So,” you began one day after the sun has set and he crawled out of his room with the biggest bird's nest on his head. You had a romance novel on your lap, your fingers running through the pages. “Are you like an actual vampire or are you the romanticized, somewhat gay vampire they usually depict in books?”

“Well, I’ve never been with a man but I don’t really oppose the idea.” He took a seat beside you on the couch, laying his feet on the coffee table. You kind of just stare at him, not exactly judging his words, just… bewildered. 

He noticed the look on your face. “When you’ve lived for a century, you gotta learn how to keep things interesting, even if that means having a dick in my mouth.”

“That’s…” You swallowed. “Not exactly something I want to imagine.”

“You should, though. Try picturing me with your boyfriend Mark for a sec. Don’t we look hot together?” You had to look away when he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You just had to.

“So, these vampire books you said you read,” he went back to the previous topic after cackling for a whole ten seconds at the flustered look on your face. “How do they depict us exactly?”

“You’ve never read one?”

“Have you ever read any books about humans written by vampires?”

“Fair point. Well, it said that vampires couldn’t see themselves in the mirror.”

“Myth,” he replied, leaning his head against the couch. “I can see myself in the mirror and I like seeing myself just as much as you do whenever I come out of the bathroom.”

You almost blurt out the cinnamon cookie you just ate. “Excuse me?!” You cough, eyes starting to get a little teary. “Who said I like looking at you?”

“You don’t?” The way his eyes twinkled made you a little bit weak. A smirk grew apparent on his face. “You sure about that?”

You cleared your throat, flipping another page of your book. “Next question,” you continued, ignoring the soft laugh he emitted. “Do garlic, holy water, and silver scare you?”

“They don’t scare me,” he clicked his tongue, vexed by the way you composed your words. “I just don’t like them.”

“Right, so that’s a yes. Do you have to be invited in to be able to enter someone’s home?”

He tightened his jaw, quietly murmured, “Yes.”

“Can you read someone’s thoughts?”

“No, but I can tell how they’re feeling through their heartbeat.” His eyes were boring into yours, lips curving upward. “Like you, for example. I can tell that whenever I’m around you, your heartbeat runs just a little bit faster.”

You glanced away, rubbing your nose. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Ah,” he showcased his perfect marbled teeth as he grinned knowingly. “Just like that. Your heartbeat is increasing again. Are you lying to me, milady?”

“You’re freaking annoying, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“Speaking of that,” you immediately said, knowing it was the perfect chance to avert his attention to another topic. “Can you charm someone?”

“With these looks?” He gestured to his entire body. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” But when you started scowling at him, he added, “But if you’re talking about mind compulsion, yes, I am able to do that. I can erase and alter people’s memories, even controlling them only by making eye contact.”

“That sounds pretty convenient.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like doing it.” He shrugged, staring at the ceiling with droopy eyes. “Hypnotizing them to get what I want just doesn’t sit right with me. I want to feel a connection, you know?”

“So doing one night stands with vampire groupies is the perfect way to earn that connection, I suppose?”

He tilted his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “You really know how to attack someone’s pride, huh?”

“Part of my charm,” you mimic him with a nod. “Okay, next question. Can you die with a wooden stake piercing your heart?”

He rolled his eyes. “Everybody dies with a stake in—what is this, an interrogation?”

“Do churches—”

“Okay, Sweetheart.” He closed your book, smiling at you though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think that’s enough. My turn.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, not really pleased with the way he just suddenly changed the direction of your conversation. “What do you want to know?” You indulged him anyway.

He tilted his head, propping his elbow on his thigh, fingers tapping against his cheek as he rested his chin on his palm. Gazing at you intensely, he asked, “Are you a virgin?”

It didn’t take even a split second for you to blush. “T-that’s—What kind of question is that—”

“Ah, so you are.” His smile grew a bit larger, but you weren’t sure whether he was amused, aroused, or just excited to mock you about it. “Is that why you’ve been staring at me a lot lately? Because you’re curious?”

“For the last time,” you emphasized, though your heart was hammering against your ribcages. “I wasn’t looking at you. I never—”

“You’re adorable when you lie,” he snickered, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Your heartbeat sounds like you just did a marathon. Are you okay?”

You threw your book at him, successfully wiping the smirk on his goddamn perfect face, and raced back to your own room.

“Ah, she’s really cute.” Was the last thing you heard him say before you slammed your bedroom door behind you.

***

For a vampire, Donghyuck’s presence is as bright as the sun, always managing to lift your mood whenever you’re too stressed about your college assignments or too exhausted from your part-time job. Of course, he’s also the cause of your stress more often than not, but whenever you get into a fight with him—usually because he’s so disorganized and you’re too obsessive to keep everything in order—it doesn’t last long and ends up with him making you the best dinner you’ve ever had to compensate, even when he’s not the one at fault.

Donghyuck doesn’t consume human food but he makes the best cuisine you’ve ever tasted in your life. And also the sight of him wearing your pink apron while humming to a Michael Jackson’s song with his bangs tied to the side using your hairclip is really, really something to behold—which is weird because that obviously doesn’t scream sexy in any way, or masculine even, but it makes your stomach do somersaults most delightfully.

“Dinner is served, Milady,” he says, laying down a plate of Spaghetti Aglio e Olio in front of you, making you gawk at the sight. “And it’s special because it contains a lot of garlic—seriously, like a lot. I had to put some gloves on and everything.”

“You’re an angel.” You nearly cry and it’s not an exaggeration. “I can’t believe you did this all for me.”

“Well, I haven’t really thanked you for covering my rent last month so…”

“It’s fine, you can pay me back later.” You take a hold of your fork, already wetting your lips in anticipation, and waste not a second longer before you dig in. When the cheese melts inside your mouth, you almost moan in joy. “Oh my God, this is so good. I love you.”

He chuckles, suddenly standing behind you, leaning forward so he’s next to your ear. “Yeah? How much?”

You raise your silver spoon in the air and he immediately leaps to the other side of the kitchen, startled and scared out of his mind. “Hey, that’s not nice! I thought we’ve talked about this!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you take another spoonful of it. “Man, you should really make a job out of this,” you comment. He only cooks whenever he feels sorry for you for going through a hard day—whether it was because of him or something else—but if that’s what it takes to have this magnificent dish entering your mouth, you don’t mind suffering more often.

“I really should, huh?” He takes a seat on the kitchen counter, his legs dangling a few inches in the air. “I’m really running low on money.”

“I thought vampires were supposed to be rich and like, noble.”

“You’re confusing us with Aristocrats.” He grieves. “Do you think I can get a night shift at a restaurant downtown?”

“Oh, I actually know a place. I’ll take you there tomorrow.”

“Like on a date?”

You almost drop your fork. “Why do you have to make everything weird?”

His cheeky grin is contagious but you’ve become a master of handling your expression. “I just like seeing you blush,” he confesses. “Have I told you how cute you are?”

“Today? Not yet,” you mutter as you munch on your food. “Yesterday? Approximately two hundred and thirty-five times.”

“Then I’ll try to break another record today.” He throws you a wink.

“Shut up and let me eat in peace, please.”

***

“Donghyuck-ah.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop posting a goddamn selfie every ten minutes!” You almost throw your phone to his face but since it’ll be a waste, you decide to throw your shoe instead. “I didn’t teach you how to use Instagram for this!”

Donghyuck easily dodges every single thing you’re throwing at him. “Didn’t you tell me to promote my cooking skill? That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“How does this—” You show your phone’s screen to him, almost smacking him on the face with how fast and hard you’re doing it. You slide your thumb over his Instagram feeds, showing more than fifty different pictures of his close-up face and he just made that account two days ago. “—promote your cooking skill?!” 

“But, look,” he guides you, clasping his hand to yours so you’re both holding your phone. He taps from one picture to another. “This is me holding a spatula. This is me boiling water and this is me pouring barbecue sauce—”

“Oh my God.” You almost yank every hair out of your head—or out of his head. “I follow more than four hundred people and all I can see is your damn selfies!”

“Correction, my damn cute selfies.” He pecks your cheek. “You’re welcome, babe.”

But all jokes aside, it actually works. His adorable selfies—no matter how bad you hate to admit it—are attracting more followers each day that by the time a week has passed by, he has gained more followers than you (and you’ve had your account for three years, shame on you).

And on the following two months, he gets his first endorsement deal.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, gaping as you stare over his shoulder to look at his phone’s screen, shamelessly reading his direct messages. He’s getting an offer to become a brand ambassador for this little bakery with a cover photo of a lady with chubby cheeks baking cupcakes. “I can’t believe there are people crazy enough to hire you.”

“Hey, privacy!” He immediately stands up from the couch, covering his screen with his palm. “I could’ve been sending nudes!”

“You’re sending nudes?”

“Well, not my nudes.” He rolls his eyes.

“How is that any better?!”

“Look, I’m busy. I got a gig.” He grins proudly. “I’m on my way to becoming a celebrity, babe. Do you want my autograph now before it’s too late? I could sign your bra if you want. I mean, I’m totally down if you want me to sign your tits, but if you ever think that could be awkward—”

You smack his head with a spatula.

***

It’s your first date night after nearly half a year of not contacting Mark due to him going overseas for student exchange, and you’re nervous for various reasons.

First, you haven’t told Mark you’ve been sharing a place with a guy.

Second, you certainly haven’t told him that this guy is a vampire.

Third, you absolutely in any way cannot tell him that you’ve been secretly crushing on this guy while your boyfriend was away studying.

And last but not least, you know that if anything happens tonight, whether it ends up with you fighting with Mark or finally losing your virginity to him, Donghyuck can hear every single thing.

So you barge into his room, hand laying on the front of his bedroom door as you push it open. “Donghyuck-ah.”

Like always, he’s laying idly on his bed, head almost dangling on the edge of it with his phone in his hands. “Yes, baby?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “How many times should I tell you? Don’t call me that.”

“You’re not my baby anymore?” He fakes a loud gasp. “I am shocked.”

“Mark is coming over tonight.”

His movements stop abruptly. “I didn’t realize you were still with him.”

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be? He’s been nothing but sweet to me.”

His eyes lose the mischievous spark he usually displays in them. “And yet, you keep drooling over my body. Can’t say I’m not hurt.”

“I never—” You exhale loudly, throwing your head back. “I’m not going to have this argument again. He’s coming over tonight to have dinner—”

“But you’re a shitty cook.”

“By dinner, I mean take-outs,” you admit your defeat. “Anyway, I came here to ask you a favor.”

“Sweetheart,” he calls, turning over to his stomach so he can face you without having to see you upside down. “I know I said I wanted to make things interesting, but having a threesome with you and Mark? So suddenly like this? Don’t you think it’s gonna be a little awkward between us? I barely know the dude. You should at least tell me what kind of person he is, whether he likes action movies or romantic ones, whether he blames someone else when he farts—I need to know him before I have his dick in my mouth.”

Talking to him gives you headaches, you should’ve really come prepared. “Are you done?”

“Do you still want me to continue? Okay, well—”

“Shut up, please for the love of God, shut up.” You should take your leave before he starts yapping again. “Look, that super hearing thing you do? Can you turn it off just for one night?”

“Sure thing, click,” he says, snapping his fingers near his ear. “Done. Now I’m deaf.”

You flatly stare at him. “I’m serious.”

“Whaaaaat? I can’t heaaaaar youuuu.”

“Hyuck!” 

He groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “Well, it’s not like my ears have on-and-off buttons I can just switch, okay? What do you want from me?”

He’s right, there’s nothing you can do. “Then, can you leave the apartment for the night?”

He opens his mouth wide, hand going to his chest. “You’re kicking me out from my own apartment? This is heresy!”

“Donghyuck-ah, please!” Great, now you’re stomping your feet like a child. “I just really need some privacy for tonight.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get laid, aren’t you?” He raves mockingly, but his eyes are somewhat bitter. “Seriously? With that guy? I think you could do so much better, Sweetheart.”

Vexed, you jeer back, “Yeah? And who do you have in mind? You?”

You’re not sure whether it’s your words or the way you say them because his eyes suddenly turn darker, almost glowering at you but it only happens for a second or two so you’re not sure if you even see that clearly.

“Well, it’s not my business, is it?” He casually chirps, smiling at you again though something still feels off. “Don’t worry, I won’t eavesdrop on you two. I have a lot of kinks but voyeurism isn’t one of those. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

“You…” Something feels really off with the way he’s acting. It’s like he’s visibly upset but trying to act nonchalant about it. “You’re sure?”

“You have my words.”

“Okay then.” Whatever it is, you figure you can deal with that later. “Well, I’m gonna take a shower.”

As you shut the door behind you, uneasiness starts to fill your chest.

***

Your date with Mark is going well. It’s going so well, even, that you end up lying on your bed, perfectly naked,  lips swollen from his kisses, with him hovering on top of you, both breathless and speechless.

And unfortunately for you, also clueless.

He has a packet of condoms in his hand, and no matter how embarrassing it is for you, you already have your legs spread on the bed, waiting for him to… well, do whatever it is he’s supposed to do. Perhaps it’s okay for you to be clueless about sex because guys usually take the lead, right?

Wrong.

“Okay, wait, let me just—” Mark’s fingers are shaking due to anxiety. His poor, innocent mind cannot handle being so painfully turned-on and awkwardly embarrassed at the same time. Your boyfriend has always been awkward with literally everything, which kind of makes him adorable but it does not come as cute—not in the slightest—when he’s doing the exact opposite of what’s he’s supposed to do. Somewhere deep in his mind, he probably knows that he’s supposed to tear apart the packet sexily with his teeth,  put the condom on within seconds, and thrust into you as painlessly as possible. But in reality, what’s currently happening is he tries to catch the condom that flew out in the air after he managed to tear the packet apart with his shaky fingers. He then progresses to try putting on the condom for approximately fifteen minutes while flinching several times when he accidentally slaps the elastic band against his cock.

The whole thing is a fucking disaster (no pun intended) and all the passion, desire, and arousal that you once felt swirling in your stomach vanish in an instant. And when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, it does, because being a virgin himself, Mark doesn’t really know where to, for the lack of better words, put it in.

“Mark?”

“Y-yeah?”

“That’s my asshole.”

So with a reassuring (fake) smile, you lay a hand on his chest and gently push him backward, trying not to wince in chagrin when you suggest, “Maybe we should stop and try again some other time?”

You two dress back into your clothes in silence and after you escort him to your front door, Mark tries to kiss you at the same time you’re leaning in for a friendly hug so it ends up with him knocking his teeth against your forehead.

When he’s gone, you close the front door with a sigh, pressing your spine against the wooden surface as you soothe the pain on your temple away with your fingertips. It doesn’t take long before Donghyuck peeks his head from behind his door. Noticing you’re alone, he steps into the living room, leaning against the wall just a couple of meters away from where you’re standing. 

“So,” he begins, acting casual, “How was the date with—” He suddenly bursts out laughing, one hand holding his stomach as he nearly tumbles down to the floor, cackling like a mad man. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but man, did he really put it in the wrong hole? Oh God, this shit is just beyond me, man.”

With your shoulders slumped forward, you walk back into your room, trying to gather back the pieces of dignity you have left.

***

“You know what I should do?” Donghyuck asks with a game controller in his hand. To stop him from making fun of you and your terrible incident with your boyfriend, you’ve borrowed a PlayStation from your cousin. Even though he claimed that he despised technology, Donghyuck is actually brilliant when he puts his mind to it. It doesn’t take more than two hours for him to master the game, already adapting to every button of the controller, even manages to land a few high scores in the last ten minutes. He used to prefer to live in the old school way, but that soon changed after your influence.

“Pray to God for forgiveness so He won’t send you to hell?” You offer, as you take a seat next to him on the carpeted floor, crossing your legs, eyes staring idly at the screen. 

“Cute, but no.” He clicks some buttons aggressively, trying to reach yet another high score. “I should become a historian. I mean, I’ve seen things happened with my own eyes—the first world war, the second world war, the birth of Jesus.” He sneaks a glance, but seeing no reaction coming from you, he juts out his lower lip in disappointment. “It’s cruel that you don’t indulge me with my jokes these days.”

“Oh, so you want me to respond? I thought you just liked hearing yourself talk.”

“Heeeeeey,” he hisses, leering at you. “I know you’re hurt that your boyfriend tried to butt-fuck you but don’t throw this all on me.”

Oh my God. “Right, then let’s try this.” You have no choice but to please him this way before he destroys whatever is left of your pride. You do a quick search on your phone, throwing a random question from what you found in the article. “Who led our country in 1950?”

“Easy. The guy with the bald head. No, wait, is it the skinny one with the huge mole on his neck?”

“Name, Hyuck. I need a name.” You exhale in exasperation.

“Oh, I got it! The one with the annoying high-pitched voice!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to remember shits that happened seventy years ago?”

You give him a look, eyes staring at him lifelessly. “You’re right, you should totally apply for the job. You’ll nail it.”

***

“I can’t believe this.”

“Saying that multiple times won’t really change anything, Sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe this,” you repeat, this time while standing up from the couch, slamming your fashion magazine down to the table. “I can’t believe our air conditioner broke when it’s nearly thirty degrees outside! Aren’t you hot?!”

“Am I hot—” He snorts, flipping a page of his novel.  Yes, it is actually quite bizarre that he spends his spare time reading. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m hot. Haven’t you seen the number of girls I brought into this place?”

“Ugh, God!” You plop back into your seat, throwing your head back in vexation. “What are you even reading?”

“That vampire book you talked about yesterday.”

“Which one?”

“The one that’s interesting.”

“Oh, Interview with The Vampire?”

“No.” The way he rolls his eyes as if he’s disgusted with your guess is beyond you. “Twilight.”

“Oh my God, stay away from me.”

“What—this is actually good!”

“These vampires sparkle under the sun—aren’t you, at the very least, offended? Because I’m livid and I’m human.”

“That’s what makes it interesting, actually,” he retorts, eyes moving back-and-forth as he reads through a passage. “They’re so different than us in real life, so it’s like seeing through a new perspective. I’m Team Jacob, by the way.”

“Good Lord.” You palm the side of your face. “You’re more than a hundred years-old but you have the taste of a teenage girl going through puberty. I’m ashamed of knowing you.”

“You’re just cranky because of the weather.”

“I’m literally dying.” You can feel sweat drenching your back, all the way to your shirt and you just took a shower twenty minutes ago. “You’re lucky you’re immune to temperature changes.”

“Then wanna sit on my lap?”

Your ears must be playing tricks on you. “Excuse me?”

Donghyuck sighs, closing his book and throws it away to the side. Turning to you, he repeats slowly, dragging out every syllable. “Do. you. want. to. sit. on. my. lap?”

You send him a blank stare, annoyed. “I heard you, asshole. I’m not an idiot. I’m just shocked at your offer. You’re really going all out in harassing me these days, aren’t you?”

“What—” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’m a vampire, remember? I have cold skin. Here,” he takes one of your hands, sliding it down his shirt as if it’s nothing, and presses it against his stomach. “Can you feel it?”

All the blood rushes to your face, making you feel lightheaded but also conscious of how his skin feels under your palm. It is cold, though not as cold as he’d made a big deal out of it. It’s like the room temperature during the spring season, at most. But compared to how sizzling it is right now, his skin is nice to the touch, relaxing even. 

But all that thought just goes straight out of the window when he shifts on his seat and you can feel his abs muscles contracting.

“Whoa,” he stops, looking at you. “Are you okay? Your heartbeat is insane.”

You smack him on the head and try to suffocate him with your cushion. It doesn’t work since he doesn’t breathe, but at least it can stop him from seeing how red your face is turning.

But when another day passes by and your landlord is still taking his sweet time trying to find a cheap handyman to repair your AC, you decide to take on his offer. You know it’s weird for roommates to cuddle but, as you try to reason within yourself, you will be sitting on the-sexiest-man-you’ve-ever-witnessed-with-your-eyes’ lap, your back pressing against his (hopefully) bare chest, and snuggle close until your body heat is no longer screaming at you in agony. You don’t really see any problem with this. After all, you have been imagining how it would feel to sit on his lap every time he does that manspreading thing on your couch. 

So really, what’s there to lose?

“Okay,” you begin, standing in front of him in an already awkward position. “So, how can we do this without being weird about it?”

Donghyuck tilts his face up, leaning his back against the couch, phone in his hand. “Do what?”

“Do…” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “You know, what you offered yesterday.”

“Hmm?” He raises his eyebrow in question, but the way one side of his lips is curving upward betrays his act. “I forgot. What exactly did I offer to do?”

“You’re seriously going to make me say this out loud?”

“Baby, I’m clueless.” His smirk grows wider, his voice filled with allure. “Please. Enlighten me.”

He’s toying with you, that’s for sure. And no matter how much you want to feel those arms around you, there’s no way you’re gonna let him degrade you like this. “Fine, then forget it,” you sulk, turning around on your heels with your scarlet cheeks puffed out but Donghyuck laughs in the most innocent way when he’s clearly nothing like that in reality. Calling your name in a sing-song voice, he circles his fingers around your wrist and tugs you back until you tumble down to his lap.

“You’re never honest,” he says, his velvety voice suddenly only a whisper away. His arms are tied securely around your waist, pulling you close until you can do nothing but lay your back against his chest. “But you’re cute so I forgive you.”

You can’t form a word, too busy trying to compose yourself. You can’t hear his heartbeat—since he’s the creature of the undead, obviously—but you assume with the proximity you’re being, you would’ve definitely heard it if he had one.

You didn’t notice it before but now that you’re sitting on his lap, your palm pressed against his thigh for stability you realize that he’s wearing black ripped jeans with holes that are oh so terribly distracting. If you dare to move your finger, you’ll be able to trace the smooth skin at the inner part of his thigh.

You gulp hard.

You can hear him snickering behind you. “Thinking about something dirty?”

You almost swallowed your own tongue. “What—no!” Flapping your hands in panic, you almost fall from his lap but his fast reflex won’t let you, as he embraces you tighter, making you fall back to his chest with a small oof.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he chuckles lowly, his lips grazing against your earlobe. “This is nice. We should do this more often. You fit perfectly in my arms.” He says his line with sincerity with no trace of humor or teasing in it, which effectively make you curl your toes in bashfulness.

“You’re gonna have a heart attack if you keep your heart rate going like that, Sweetheart,” he titters.

“Yeah, well,” you try to push him away by pushing your palm against his cheek. “Unlike you, I don’t really spend my time snuggling with the opposite sex, so of course I’m nervous.”

“You’re sure it’s not because of me?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I’d most likely have a bigger reaction if Mark was the one holding me instead.”

The way he suddenly goes stiff intrigues you, but you don’t dwell on it. “Is that so?” He simply retorts back, tone suddenly becoming cold and it makes you feel uneasy.

“So, uhh…” Your breathing tatters when he becomes mute, only the sound of the ticking clock on the wall can be heard. “Wanna watch a movie?”

He only hums, placing his chin on top of your head. Since he’s always so talkative, it gets really tense when he’s quiet. “Did I offend you or something?” You question.

“I don’t know, did you?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”

“Then let’s just leave it at that.” Seeing how you keep fumbling with the remote in your hand, he snatches it away and proceeds to switch the channels. “We’re watching Twilight.”

“Nooooooo, not again!”

But his arm, as he raises it high in the air, is longer than yours so you can’t steal back the remote no matter how hard you try. And as you jump up and down, shifting back and forth on his lap, Donghyuck warns, “I don’t know if you’re doing this on purpose, but if you keep doing that, I’m gonna get a hard-on.”

You immediately stay still, hands tucked neatly on your lap, chest thundering. “You—Why—” You shake your head, flushed. “How can you say things like that?”

“Things like what?”

“Sexual things like that.” The more you reveal your thoughts, the harder you blush. “Don’t you have any shame?”

“What, I can’t be honest?” He snorts. “I didn’t mean to harass you or anything. Just letting you know in advance. It’s completely a guy thing.”

“No, it’s not just that. You always flirt with me—calling me baby, telling me how I look cute all the time when you don’t even mean it—“

You’re interrupted with a loud sigh accompanied by an impatient groan. “Turn around, look at me,” he orders and his tone is irrefutable. When you turn slightly, making eye contact, Donghyuck has his eyebrows furrowed, almost glaring at you. “I know you’re gullible, and I know you’re dense when it comes to things like this but I swear to God, if you don’t start taking a hint, I’m going to have to push you against the wall and kiss you to prove my point.”

You’re dizzy and nauseous, and your stomach is flipping like crazy and you’re conflicted between believing him or laughing at him because although he looks dead serious right now, you can’t help but wonder what if, after you give in to your feelings, he sends you that signature cheeky grin of his to reveal he’s just joking all along? You’re not even brave enough to imagine, even when the vivid image of him pushing you against the wall, his knee slipping between your legs while he brings your wrists over your head, holding them still with one hand is enough to keep you awake for hours.

So you decide to take the easy path. “Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You shrug, acting casual. It’s really a miracle that you don’t stutter when you deliver the next line. “You told me to take a hint, that’s what I’m doing.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, confused. “Just like that? You’re not gonna say anything more? Or do anything about it?”

“Nope.”

Slowly, there’s a shift in his expression. He shakes his head, tongue protruding against the inside of his cheek both irked and amused. “You’re really something.”

Surprisingly enough, he leaves it at that. Though it’s somehow uncomfortable, you follow his lead and just lock your eyes to your tv screen as he chooses his movie.

You have no interest in watching Twilight—absolutely nothing, zilch, zip, nada!—so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your eyelids start to become heavy in the first thirteen minutes of the show. You would’ve fallen asleep way sooner though, if you weren’t too distracted with the way he laid his hand on your thigh, sometimes unconsciously rubbing or squeezing it with his palm when he got a little bit bored with the scene, making your breath hitched in your throat.

The room’s temperature is still hot even when it’s in the middle of the night, successfully making your bangs stick to your temple but Donghyuck is quietly humming something to himself. Soft, melodious sound is resonating from his chest directly to your ear and you begin to drift away, floating into your dreamland.

***

“Hey, wake up. It’s almost morning.”

Your bleary eyes are greeted with the dim light of the room. The TV in front of you has already been switched off so the only thing that can be heard in your apartment is the buzzing sound coming from your fridge and the faint ticking clock. 

“What time is it?” You rub your eyes, not aware that you’re still sitting on his lap, with your spine leaning against his chest. It’s until you feel his arms loosening around your waist that you begin to think, oh fuck, what have I done?

You immediately jump off his lap, tripping over your feet but manage to hold your balance by placing a hand on the coffee table. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You screech, face aflame. “You kept holding me in that position all night?”

“Yeah.” He stretches his arms above his head, cracking his neck. “I wanted to wait until you wake up by yourself, but you know, the sun is about to rise.”

You’re still pretty much flabbergasted by the whole thing. “You really should’ve woken me up.”

“Well, you seemed like you were having the best sleep you’ve ever had.” He stares at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Was it that good being in my arms?”

You’re about to explode. “Okay, wow, look what time it is.” You try to look at your wrist and mentally slap yourself harder when you realize you’re not wearing a goddamn watch. “A-anyway, you really should go back to your room before it’s too late.”

He shakes his head, chuckling at your stupid antics as he stands up from the couch. He ruffles your hair once, making a mess out of your strands before he heads back to his room. As he slides open his door, he spares you a glance over his shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You kept calling my name in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?”

Whether it’s true or he’s just flirting with you to get your reaction, you don’t want to know. “Just go to your room!”

***

A few moments after the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck comes out from his room with bleary eyes and his shoulders slumped forward. 

“Good morning, Princess,” you joke, your hands busy mixing coffee powder, sugar, and milk to make your own version of Dalgona coffee. Donghyuck scratches the back of his head, his eyes are barely open as he heads to the kitchen, not even sparing you a glance. When he opens the fridge, he groans loudly, noticing that he forgot to restock his red wine. He slams the door with a loud huff, drags his body to the dining table, and sits down with his cheek pressed against the table. Seeing how you’re not paying him any attention, he groans again, louder and whinier this time.

“Okay, what?” You ask, leaning your back against the counter, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“I’m thirsty,” he grumbles, jutting out his lower lip.

“Then drink.”

“I don’t have any money to buy even a bag of blood. Why do they have to make it so fucking expensive?” He pouts. “I mean, I can always steal one but I’m scared of being caught.”

“Scared of being caught? You, with your superhuman speed and strength?”

“Well, they have those security cameras installed all over the place! I don’t want to get arrested or worse, go viral!” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes at his nonsense. “These fucking technologies, man, I swear to God, they’ll be the death of me someday.”

“Then just go outside. Our town is filled with walking blood bags.”

He groans again, now pressing his forehead against the table. “Man, the effort I have to make just to survive. I’m so done with drinking blood from slutty girls. They’re bitter.” He sticks out his tongue at the memory.

“Yeah, why is that? Why do you only drink from them?”

“Because they’re the only ones who’ll agree in a heartbeat.” His voice is muffled as his lips are brushing against the surface. “Also the sex isn’t too bad if you can ignore how annoyingly loud they are.”

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” You grimace at the flashback. It really has been a while since he brought one of them back to his room and you were ecstatic about it, knowing you were the only girl he had been giving his attention to. “Why don’t you just compel someone to give their blood? You can erase their memories too after you’re done.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t like doing that. It makes me feel like a monster.”

It’s cute, you suppose, the way he tries his best to defy his nature. “Then…” You tap your fingers against the mug, somehow feeling uneasy. “Why don’t you try being in a relationship with someone? I’m sure they’ll be willing to give you their blood if they like you that way.”

“Yeah? With who?”

“I don’t know, like…” Your cheeks grow hot, bringing your face down to hide your eyes behind your bangs. “Maybe just someone you like.”

“Are you volunteering?”

The way he suddenly has you backed against the counter, trapping you inside his arms, and whispers seductively with his lips almost grazing your own make you jump on your feet, your cup slipping off your fingers, crashing to pieces when it hits the marbled floor.

“Careful!” Donghyuck holds you by the waist, stopping you just a split second away from stepping on the broken glasses. You realize your hands are fisting against the back of his shirt, embracing him for support without knowing. You pull away immediately, clearing your throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he says, letting you go. “I mean I did, but not like this.”

You sigh. “It’s okay, just step away. I need to clean this up.” He tries to help but you won’t let him, because having him in such proximity is going to blind your senses, unable to function properly. Even just thinking about the way his strong arm fits the curve of your waist already makes you lose focus that you end up cutting your finger with a shard of glass.

He catches the little surprised yelp that escapes your lips and immediately bends down to check on you. “See, this is why I told you to let me clean up instead,” he complains, carrying you to the sink and drenches your finger with running water. “Let me see.” With a hold around your wrist, you can barely do anything but to let him examine your cut thoroughly. “Well, it’s not deep but it’s… still…” 

Noticing how he trails off, you look up to check on his face seeing how his eyes are now glowing a bit brighter, his lips parted as if in awe from the way droplets of blood seep from your fingertip, trickling all the way down to your palm.

“Hyuck…?”

His eyes are drifting back and forth from your face to your cut and you know where this is going but when he brings your palm closer to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the blood off your skin, you nearly collapse to the floor. 

“Hyuck—” You hiss, cheeks reddening as you try to retract your hand but his hold is firm on your wrist. He licks his way up before he brings your fingertip inside his mouth. Donghyuck has his eyes closed, a moan almost falls from his lip when the coppery taste taints his tongue. He sucks on the wound, wanting to taste more, to rip your skin apart with his teeth and—

“Hyuck!” 

He blinks awake, shocked when he sees your face painted with fear. His fangs are drawn out but he immediately retracts them back before you get a detailed look, his face flushed as he takes a step back.

“S-sorry—” He looks away, rubbing his nape with shaky fingers. “I didn’t mean—shit I really have to go—I have to drink—” and when you blink your eyes, he’s vanished from your sight.

With your heart thundering inside your ribcages, you lean back against the kitchen counter again, your legs trembling under you.

That was close. So fucking close.

There’s a fear growing inside you but it’s not from the memory of him with his fangs extended like the true monster that he was. You’re not scared of him, you’re scared of yourself because you know you want him, you want him in any way possible. You want him to belong to you, to be with you, to be desperate for your touch, your blood, your presence, your everything, just as much as you are about him.

You bury your face in your palms. I am so fucked.

***

Hours turn into days and days turn into months, and before you know it, it has been a year since he moved into your apartment. The friendship that blooms between you feels nice and you want to keep it that way but it’s getting hard when he keeps on bringing random girls in skimpy dresses back to his room. You used to be furious by how loud they were being, but now you’re pretty much angry just simply by imagining him being with someone else. And it doesn’t even have to be sexual—just picturing him bonding with another person, even when it’s not as strong as what you two have, manages to irk you so much.

The thoughts of him keep revolving in your head no matter how hard you try to push them away. It even puts your relationship with Mark in jeopardy, as you can barely pay him any attention. It doesn’t surprise you at all when he decides to break things off, saying something cliche like, “I think we’re better off as friends,” and “It’s not you, it’s me,” which in normal circumstances will piss the hell out of you but when that happens, you simply just reply, “You’re right. Let’s be friends.” And there are no hard feelings—no feelings at all, even, which is weird considering you were only a month away from having your first anniversary with him.

Now that Mark is out of the picture, you can finally bring all of your attention back to Donghyuck. But the more you think about it, the more you’re not sure about the whole thing. He’s a vampire, isn’t he? What future do you expect to have with him? Let’s say you date him and things go well with your relationship, and then what? He’s going to stay young with that cute, boyish look on his face and you’re gonna be all wrinkled and gross, how are you ever going to be able to stand that? What if he wants someone prettier than you? What if he gets bored?

Or maybe it’s just lust you’re feeling. You don’t love him, you’re just physically attracted to him. That’s right. Strictly physical.

And yet, as you see him dressed up in a white buttoned-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, running a hand through his hair and pushing back his bangs to showcase his temple, you thought: fuck.

And when he smiles at you, as he places a plate filled with the exact dish he knows you love down to the dining table, saying, “I went ahead and did some research about you. I was about to buy you some presents but I thought it would feel more personal if I cooked something for you so,” and stopping to gaze at you with tender eyes before he adds, “Happy birthday, Sweetheart.” You thought: Jesus fucking Christ, just marry me already.

Donghyuck goes all the way with everything, from placing scented candles on the table, playing soft music in the background, even escorting you to your seat, pulling your chair back for you, and placing down a napkin on your lap. It’s too much for your poor brain to comprehend, and your chest is suffocating from all the feelings swirling behind it and Donghyuck looks so beautiful—almost goddamn ethereal even—in that shirt, in that hairstyle, in the dim light of the room.

“You’re not hungry?” He asks when a few seconds have passed by and you haven’t munched at your food like a caveman—because that’s what you usually do. 

“I’m—you—” You splutter, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before you try again. “You look nice.”

You can already tell that he’s about to say something along the line of “But baby, I always look nice.” So when he just softly smiles back and thanks you about it, telling how you look just as nice when you know you look like a storm just hit you, you’re pretty much lost for words.

“You seem exhausted,” he comments, frowning in concern. “Hard day at work?”

You can’t trust yourself that you won’t start rambling nonsense again while answering his question so you decide to just reply to him with a timid nod.

“Why are you so nervous?” He laughs, eyes turning crescents. “Your heartbeat is going through the roof again.”

You loathe yourself for being so transparent. “I’m nervous because you’re suddenly being so nice. I can’t help but think you have a hidden agenda or something.” That’s a lie. A complete lie.

And you’re sure he knows it. “And what if I do?” He asks, raising an eyebrow seductively. “What kind of a hidden agenda do you think I have for you?”

Why is it so fucking hot in here?! “I don’t know…” You start fiddling with the fingers you have on your lap. “Drinking my blood, maybe?”

His expression is a mystery to you, even when his smirk seems familiar. “And would you be okay if that’s true?”

You can’t answer but fortunately for you, Donghyuck lets out a chuckle, telling you he was making a lame joke. You force yourself to laugh but it sounds like a wheeze so you stop before it gets even more humiliating.

Donghyuck walks to your side with a bottle of wine in his hands, sliding glass to your side as he says, “Wine, milady? It’s not blood, I swear.” And you believe him because this time, the liquid seems more ruby than crimson.

“You really need to relax,” he comments as he leans his back against the edge of the table, raising the glass of his usual red wine in the air before he clanks it gently against yours. “To the cutest, sweetest roommate in the world.”

You immediately take a sip to hide the blush that creeps up your face, flinching when the burning, mildly bitter flavor hits your tongue. You’ve never drunk any alcohol in your life and although this first experience feels rather unpleasant, you keep chugging more of it down your system. 

“Does it taste good?” He asks, secretly smiling to himself as he witnesses how fast you’re drinking the whole glass down. You shake your head in response, which earns another laugh from him.

You’re not sure whether it’s because it’s your first time drinking alcohol or you just have a low tolerance when it comes to it, but you can feel yourself getting both lightheaded and drowsy. Donghyuck who takes notice of that, move you to the couch so you can rest more comfortably. “I better take this away,” he says, circling his lean fingers around your wine glass but you push him away.

“No,” you say, eyes a little bit unfocused. “I’m fine. Pour me some more.”

“Don’t you think it’s enough?”

“Just another glass, Hyuck, don’t be a bitch about it.”

He’s taken aback but collects his composure within seconds. “All right, just don’t blame me for it,” he states as he pours you another one.

“I have a question for you, Lee Donghyuck,” you coo as he takes a seat on the coffee table, facing you. “Does everyone’s blood taste the same to you?”

“It differs, actually,” he answers, taking a sip of his own drink. “But only faintly. I’m not that picky about it.”

“And how does it feel having your blood sucked by a vampire?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy.” He sways his head from side-to-side in amusement. “I mean, of course, I can have my blood drunk by another vampire but I’m not that kinky. I know some vampires who are into that kind of shit though.”

“Well, by the sound of your girls screaming like they were giving birth, it’s either very painful or very…” The sight of him staring at you intently, taking in your features, nearly throws you off tracks. “Pleasurable.”

There’s an awkward pause and silence hangs around to fill the space before Donghyuck speaks again. “How come you’re asking me these questions?”

“Because that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” you confess, not sure why, but you’re feeling very brave at the moment. “And it’s not just about you drinking my blood, but more about you entirely. You know what I mean?”

Donghyuck places his glass down on the table, leaning towards you. “Not sure, but I’m all ears.”

“I… just…” It’s getting harder to speak when he’s so close, you can start locating every tiny mole he has on his face and his neck. The small one near his Adam’s apple is the one that distracts you the most. “I just think we’re compatible with each other, you know? And I’ve never enjoyed someone’s company this much before. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re both endearing and freaking annoying at the same time—how is that possible?”

But Donghyuck isn’t laughing. His eyes are deep and dark, raking over your profiles with so much intensity but when he swats the bangs out of your eyes, his touch is tender. “What else? Tell me more.”

You lean closer to his touch like how a kitten would, making him gulp slightly at the sight. “I get so vexed whenever you spend your time with anyone else. I know I have no right to be jealous since we’re just friends but I can’t help it.” You sigh, rubbing the side of your face with your palm. “It’s so fucking tiring to think about you this much when I can’t have you.”

You’re too lost in your own thoughts that when Donghyuck reaches out a hand to touch your face, you jump in surprise, spilling wine all over your blouse. “Shit, this is my favorite shirt,” you whine, sliding your glass down to the table. “Can you get me some tissues?”

But what he does is lifting your body with both of his arms and carry you to the bathroom. You cling onto him with a yelp, trying to keep yourself away from falling even though you’re sure he’s perfectly able to hold your weight.

Donghyuck places you down on the bathroom counter, your fingers dangling at the edge of your sink. Sitting up straight, you begin to feel conscious of your surroundings. “What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite shirt, right? We need to wash the stain before it sticks,” He explains, his fingers going to your collar. You nearly stop breathing when he asks for permission to undress you, “May I?”

You swallow hard before you weakly nod.

He takes time unbuttoning your shirt one by one when you know he can rip it apart easily with one finger. He’s so gentle, his touches are paper-thin but whenever his icy fingertips make slight contact with your skin, it sends electricity to every inch of your body. 

When he manages to untangle the clothing from your body, you’re only left in your bra and your black satin lace cami top. You can tell he tries to be polite by not staring at what you’re wearing, and instead immediately drags your blouse to the sink, drenching it with water.

“Where did you place the detergent again?” He asks, reaching up over your head to check on the top cabinet and he’s so fucking close that you can see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he speaks. And it’s really, really tempting to just lean over and—

Donghyuck flinches when he feels you sinking your face in the crook of his neck, mapping your lips on his skin, breathing in his scent. You don’t know how vampires usually smell like but Donghyuck reminds you of summer even when you’re not sure how summer smells like. It’s funny how you’re not making sense, even in your own thoughts.

Pushing you away by the shoulders, Donghyuck’s eyes gleam in the way you’ve never seen before. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I…” You can’t form a word—you can’t even form a thought as you’re too busy staring at his lips, how smooth they look, how thrilling they must feel against your own. And maybe he’s thinking the same thing about yours because when you lean in for a taste, he meets you halfway.

It’s warm and it doesn’t make any sense, because the rest of his body is icy cold but as you press your mouth against his, all you can think about is how his lips are warm and soft, so fucking soft and delightful and maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but you don’t care.

You breathe heavily through your nose, yanking at the collar of his shirt so he’s closer to you than he’s ever been, and you tilt your head slightly, angling your face so you can meld your lips deeper against his. He instinctively reacts by holding the side of your face, fingers slipping between your strands, tips curling around your nape.

He kisses better than any man you’ve ever been with and you’re sure he’s better than any man you’ll ever date in the future because Donghyuck knows what he’s doing, even when he’s caught by surprise. 

Sliding your hand up to his chest, you can tell how his skin stands in contrast to the warmth of his mouth and it makes you shiver, your breathing rags, and you moan into his mouth, tracing your tongue along the puncture of his fang that’s still retracted, almost as normal as a human’s but something inside you tells you it’s not going to stay that long if you continue doing this.

So anticipation builds inside you because there’s absolutely no way you’re going to stop what you’re doing.

But Donghyuck is surprisingly more chivalrous than he looks. He pulls away, giving you a few inches of space to break the attraction. It’s not enough, your mind is still heavily clouded by the thoughts of him, so you reach up to kiss him again, catching his lower lip between yours.

“No, wait,” he says, voice sounding breathy though he doesn’t breathe. He circles his fingers around your wrists, holding them down against the counter so you won’t be able to move. 

“Let me just kiss you,” you plead, eyes dazed and desperate. “Please.”

His chuckles are soft, almost inaudible. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not, I swear.” It’s horribly embarrassing how you’re itching for his touch as if losing physical contact with him causes you madness. “Hold up your fingers and ask me to count them. I’ll guess it right, trust me, so can you just—” You try to move your hand to pull him close but his grip around your wrist is stronger than your strength. “Hyuck—”

“Look, I want this just as much as you do—” He hisses when you’re using your knee this time, sliding it between his legs, giving him the friction that he needs. “Fuck. I probably want this more than you do, but—” He loses control for a split second, re-attaching his mouth to yours with so much fervor, tongues desperate to taste one another. The way you whimper against him makes him groan, his hand sliding down your thigh and spreading your legs apart so he can fit himself between them.

It’s when his fangs suddenly puncture your lips, drawing a hint of blood and making you cry out in surprise that he wakes up from his reverie, pushing himself away immediately to the other side of the room. You almost topple forward from suddenly losing him to lean on but manage to keep your balance by gripping at the edge of the counter.

Donghyuck turns around, facing the bathroom tiles as he leans one hand against the wall while his other one covers his mouth.

“Hyuck—”

“Sorry, let me just—“ His shoulders are shaking, trying his best to calm himself and the thirst that overwhelmed him earlier. “They’ll go back in a minute.”

“No.” You jump down from the counter, moving to his spot with careful steps. “Let me see them.”

He shakes his head, still not turning around to face you.

“I want to see them, Hyuck.” You place your hand on his shoulder, caressing him gently until he finally submits to your touch. 

You only ever saw him with his fangs retracted twice in your life but even then, it was always too dark and too fast for you to see him properly. Now, you can take your time.

He’s so fascinating.

His eyes, as they peer into you in concern and uncertainty that he might hurt you, are glowing brightly in the color of topaz and they’re strikingly beautiful that you can barely look at anywhere else. His fangs are larger but he can still hide them behind his lips if needed. It’s the way they become frighteningly sharp that sends a shiver down your spine but you brave yourself enough to reach out to him.

“C-can I touch…?” You hesitantly ask, and he looks conflicted by the question but soon gives you a timid nod. He parts his mouth slightly so you can trace your fingertip along his cuspid, and you flinch as it feels like a knife splitting your skin. 

He hastily pulls back, terrified at the thought of hurting you. “You’re okay?”

“Do it with me.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath, your heartbeat going crazy. “I want you to drink from me.”

“You’re crazy—”

“Please.” You lay a hand on his chest, tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to his eyes. “Just try, Hyuck…”

The glimmer in his eyes shows that he’s yearning to fulfill your wish but he cups your cheek again, telling you, “You’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

“I won’t.” Your fingers find a home in his waves. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time so—”

A high-pitched yelp escapes your lips and you have to muffle the rest of your scream by mouthing against the fabric that covers his shoulder because Donghyuck doesn’t waste any second after he heard your confession. His canines are prickling against the skin under your jaw, just between the earlobe and the collarbone. And it hurts when he sinks them—so, so badly—that tears begin to form almost instantly behind your closed lids. Donghyuck suddenly lets you go, his eyes widening as he gazes at the way blood is gushing through his bite mark. “Fuck,” he says, “How can you taste so—” and he dives in again, moaning rather loudly when the warmth of your blood fills his mouth, swallowing a big gulp each time. “So fucking good,” he murmurs in pleasure, tightening his hold desperately around your waist as if you’re the thread that keeps him alive.

The pain only stays for a few seconds before a rush of endorphin seeps into your skin, running through your veins and pumping euphoria to every inch of your body. You slowly relax against his chest, eyes becoming half-lidded as you go into a trance, heartbeat slowing. You’ve never done any methamphetamine in your life but you imagine that it must feel somewhat like this. 

“Hyuck…” You breathe out, feeling a little bit lightheaded, the strap of your camisole falling off your shoulder. You can feel your knees slowly giving out under your weight. “I… I can’t stand…”

He yanks himself away for a second, only to lift you so you can wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He carries you back to the counter, placing you down in the same spot as before, your legs dangling in the air.

“Better?” He asks, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb along your cheekbone. You nod, eyes going down to focus on his fangs again. His lips are painted with your blood, with some of it trickling down his chin. He’s a monster and he definitely looks like one, but his eyes are tender and his hands are silky smooth on your skin.

He slides his hand down to the hem of your camisole, fingers rubbing against the fabric as he peppers soft kisses along your jawline. “Is this one your favorite too?”

“Huh?” You’re having the hardest time trying to focus. “Oh… No, not really.”

“Well, then,” his lips are still sucking bruises on your neck when he rips both of your camisole and your bra with one flick of his hand, exposing your bare chest to the air, making you jump in surprise.

“Hyuck—” You’re silenced with another kiss, and it’s so consuming, so deep, so wild that you nearly sob against his mouth. The taste of copper makes you frown in discomfort but the knot starts to loosen when his tongue darts out to meet you in a messy kiss.

His hand is going down to your breast, cupping the side while he runs his thumb along your sensitive bud, making you rake your nails against his back in response. His other hand is tracing the curve of your waist, going down to your hips before he tears your skirt away, tossing the clothing somewhere across the room, following your previous ones.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he says, hooking his hands at the back of your knees before he pulls your legs forward, pressing his hardness against the wetness of your lingerie. You whine, circling your legs around his waist for stability, and murmurs, “No, don’t stop, please,” against his ear.

It’s not fair that he’s still fully clothed so you frantically toy with the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders with so much eagerness before you roam your lips to every inch of his exposed skin. 

Donghyuck licks along the wound of his previous bite, emitting a sinful moan from the back of his throat when your blood sparks ecstasy in his mouth. His fingers are tentatively rubbing you over your lingerie and you beg with your lips muffled by the skin of his chest, “Take it off, just take it off, please—“

You can feel a tiny laugh reverberating from his chest over your desperation but you don’t care. You really are that desperate.

Donghyuck is more than willing to comply, sliding the lingerie down your thighs and you help him push it off your legs completely. You guide his palm to your heat, his fingers immediately sliding between your folds, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. His mouth finds his way down the valley of your breasts and goes lower and lower until he has his head between your thighs.

You nibble at your lip in anticipation when he presses open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh. Donghyuck makes sure he has his eyes fixed on yours when he dips his fangs into your supple skin, making you quiver with the sensation.

“God, Hyuck.” You’re going insane, you can feel it. “I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me.”

And he probably is too because he’s abandoning all of his self-control at once. The way he sucks bruises on your skin, lapping at the trail of blood that painted your body is almost animalistic, raw passion mixed with lust and uncontrollable desire. He unbuckles his belt in hurry, pushing his jeans and boxers down just low enough to release himself from its confines. You can feel his tip grazing against your clit before he glides his length down your folds, pulling you by the legs so you’re almost laying down on the counter, half of your back pressed against the mirror behind you.

His eyes are hooded but they speak reassurance when they bore into yours. “I’ll be gentle.”

Now that it finally sinks you’re going to do this for the first time, your lustful desire gradually changes into jitters. You nod, permitting him to proceed. 

The feeling of him stretching you little by little is absolutely painful and he can tell that too, hissing, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” as his eyebrows adjoin in the middle. You can barely stand the pain and you’re about to stop him by reaching out a hand, but he grabs your wrist and sinks his teeth to your skin.

Another jolt of pain sends tremors all over your body but just like before, another rush of endorphin hits you like a wave, gradually reducing your pain until you’re in haze again, blissful even, but also even more aroused than before, hungry for his touch.

“You’re okay?” He asks, licking the blood that trails down your arm. “Are you still in pain?”

You’re breathing hard but you can feel your heartbeat slowing. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

His glowing eyes are gazing down at you with desire, intense with lust. He runs his tongue along his lower lip once, smirking as he says, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Even when he said he was going to be gentle with you, he’s doing the exact opposite. Or maybe he is going gentle, which only makes you wonder how wild can he be when he’s not holding back. The thought of him losing control of his mind as he pounds into you senselessly makes you shudder, tightening yourself around his length unconciously.

“My God.” The feeling of your heat enveloping him—squeezing around him—makes him drop his temple on your shoulder, dissolving him into a groaning mess. “You are driving me insane, do you know that?”

“Don’t hold back,” you hold his face, caressing his sharp jawline with trembling fingers. “Just do what you want.”

“But I’ll break you.” Although his eyes seem like he’s about to grant your wish.

 You let your tongue slide up from his chin to his lower lip, stopping just to whisper, “Then break me apart, I don’t care,” before you crush his mouth with yours again.

Donghyuck’s thrust is both deep and hard, knocking your breath with each pound as he holds you by your hips, nails clawing into the skin. Maybe it’s the trace of endorphin left in your body that heightened all your senses while at the same time washing all your pain away because everything feels so unbelievably good. His touches, his kisses, his thrusts, and the way he moves his hips faster and faster until you can’t properly breathe—everything feels amazing. 

And his voice—God, his voice—the way he moans and grunts against your ear, or when he sprouts expletives while he buries his face deep in the crook of your neck, lips scorching against your skin, makes you think fuck why did I waste a fucking year doing nothing when I can have him like—

You’re interrupted from finishing your thought when Donghyuck suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper from the loss, and turns you around, forcing you to land on your feet again, your stomach pressed against the edge of the counter. You place both hands on the marbled surface as he pulls your hips closer to him, pressing his hardness against your behind as he presses his chest to your spine.

“Come here, look,” he says, holding you by the chin and lifts your face so you can gaze directly into the mirror. He shifts his hand, now holding back your bangs so your eyes are reflected perfectly. “Look how beautiful you are,” he purrs near your ear, the tip of his nose brushing against your jawline.

It’s both embarrassing and arousing to see yourself being held domineeringly by him, the curves of your body fit his perfectly even from behind. Your lips are bruised and swollen, blood smears messily around your neck, your wrist, your thigh even on your hips from the way he trailed his coated fingers along the skin. 

Donghyuck raises two of his blood-smeared fingers to your lips, mixing your lipstick with your own blood before he slowly drags his fingers away, painting blurred lines of crimson to your cheek. He sighs at the sight, eyes half-lidded as they glow brighter. “If I’m a monster,” he says, voice low and breathy, “Then you’re a fucking goddess.”

You shudder and avert your gaze, ashamed of how sultry you look in the mirror and how sinful his gaze is as they rake over your body. He presses close, completing the dip of your spine with his chest like a matching puzzle. His fingers curl around the front of your neck, forcing you to look at your reflection once more as he licks a stripe up your wound. “We look good together, don’t you think?”

You’re breathing hard, chest heaving up and down with each breath. “Hyuck…” You crave for him to fill you again like before. “Please, just—"

He glides his hand down between your legs, teasing you with small touches but strong and fast enough to make you quiver. “So sensitive too,” he chuckles, nipping slightly at your earlobe. “You’re so fucking cute.”

Before you can retort anything back, he pushes the head of his cock into your heat again, agonizingly slowly at first but slams the rest of it with one snap of his hips.

“I’ve thought about this—about us—I think about you a lot,” he confesses, with low groans interrupting his lines. “You’re really driving me insane with that face of yours, your lips, your voice—whenever you call my name, whenever you pout after losing an argument—the way you secretly stare at me wherever I go—”

“I don’t—” You gasp, thighs trembling under your weight and he wraps an arm along your stomach, holding you still while he pushes in deeper. “I never—”

“And the way you lie just like now, with that blush creeping on your face.” He chuckles, kissing the middle of your shoulder blades. “Fuck, you’re so cute—so fucking cute that it pisses me off whenever you talk about Mark when we both know he can’t satisfy you the way I do—he doesn’t understand you— doesn’t get your stupid jokes—” He begins to fall out of rhythm, hips moving faster with each thrust. “He doesn’t deserve you—I deserve you.”

You catch the sight of your reflection, noticing how he sometimes throws his head back in pleasure, his strong hands gripping on the sides of your waist as he rolls his hips again and again, thrusting into you until you can only cry out his name and nothing more. It’s too obscene, too erotic for your eyes to witness, and when he locks his gaze with yours in the mirror, you nearly faint.

“H-Hyuck—” You reach out a hand back, trying to find his for support but he holds your wrist against your spine, pumping into you with strong strokes, leaving you with no options other than pressing the side of your face against the marble countertop, mouth parting in a silent scream.

The sounds of his groans and your whimpers echo through the bathroom walls, along with the sound of your skin meeting his. His teeth prickling against your shoulder, his eyes going to see how you look underneath him in the mirror before he sinks his fangs deep into you, making various sounds of pleasure as he drinks your blood.

The sensation of his thrust, his fingers slightly choking you as he holds you by your neck, and the amount of endorphin that washes over you soon drives you to your release and he embraces you closer, feeling every shake that you emit directly with his body. And maybe it’s from the loss of blood or everything else combined, but your vision starts to blur and suddenly your world turns black.

***

When you wake up, you’re laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling you’ve seen a million times with your eyes barely open. You’re still pretty much in a haze, not sure if you’re still floating inside your dream or back in reality. It’s until your door opens with a click that you can start to differentiate.

“Ah, you’re awake.” He peeks inside through the door holding your favorite mug, already dressed back in his favorite black tee and matching jeans. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. Can I come in?”

He walks in without needing an answer and, weirdly, he doesn’t seem nervous or awkward when the sight of him already makes you blush fervently and your heart races fast. A flashback comes in like an unstoppable train and you almost reach out a hand to your neck, wanting to know if his bite mark is still there. 

The way he acts is so natural that you begin to wonder whether all that happened was simply your imagination. But when you try to move your body, jolts of pain runs like electricity to your bones, making you freeze instantly. It feels like somebody is trying to crack your head open, tearing your body apart and you fall back to the bed, weak and exhausted.

“You all right?” He immediately rushes to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed, checking on your face. “You lost a lot of blood, so I wouldn’t move too much if I were you. I brought you some coconut water, here,” he places the mug down on your nightstand. “And some supplements too. They’ll help with your blood loss. I’ll cook some fish and eggs for dinner later.”

You can only nod, too tired to even speak. His eyes begin to soften, his fingers reaching out to caress the strands of your hair. “I guess I went a bit overboard, I’m sorry.”

“A bit…?” You croak out.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats but can’t help a smile forming on his face. “I tried so hard not to, but you were so cute.”  He leans closer, his lips hovering above yours but he rethinks his decision before he closes the gap, and moves to press a gentle kiss on your forehead instead. “You should get more sleep,” he murmurs against your skin. “Call me when you need help. I’ll be right outside.”

And he doesn’t spare you a glance as he stands up from the bed, but the way he trips on his feet once makes you realize that oh, maybe he’s embarrassed about all this too.

“Hyuck.”

He stops in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder as he lays a hand against your doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Where does this leave us?”

His face slightly goes stern. Turning over to face you, he questions further. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you pause, wetting your lip in anxiety. “Do you want us to pretend it didn’t happen?”

His eyes darken, somehow seem a bit upset. “Do you?”

“I… Uhh…” The way your heart is beating so fast makes you feel nauseous. “I don’t, but—”

“Then don’t suggest something like that,” he sighs, walking back to your bed again. He kneels on the floor so you’re eye-to-eye, squeezing your hand with his larger one. “Don’t scare me, okay? I finally have you where I want you.”

You look away, attempting to hide your flustered face. “But then, what are we now?”

“I don’t care what we are. I just want us to keep doing this.”

“Doing what, sex? You drinking my blood?”

“No, idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, yes, of course, that too. Plenty of that. But what I meant was I want to continue to have this kind of relationship with you. Us living together, making fun of each other, having dinners together, even spend hours watching re-runs of your stupid tv shows—”

“They’re not stupid.”

“They’re stupid. I only watch them because of you. You are my favorite show.” He winks, breaking the tension and you blurt out laughing, shoving him playfully by the shoulder. But when your giggle starts to fade, Donghyuck leans in to cup your cheek, smiling softly. “I just want to spend more time with you, as long as you’d let me. So can we have that? Please?”

“I…” You’re so captivated by his features, especially the shape of his lips. “I guess…”

“You guess?” He scrunches up his nose. “You’re playing hard to get again? Seriously? After all the begging you did in the bathroom?” Seeing you blush only makes him want to tease you harder. “What was it that you said? God, Hyuck, I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me—“

“Okay, shut up, geez!” You slap a hand against his mouth, steam practically coming out of your ears. “Yes, we can have that. I’d… love to have that actually.”

Kissing your inner palm, he lovingly smiles against your skin, appreciating your honesty. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Sweetheart?”

***

Read the sequel here

[lunaastoir]

fluff/relationships w the mondstadt crew

characters included: diluc, kaeya, and jean

gn! reader as always <3

tw: fluff??? domesticity??? crack??? ideal relationships w people who will never be real??? also mentions of alcohol!

an: so i’m back w a sequel to my “fluff/relationships w the liyue crew” since you guys seemed to really like it <3 thank you my heart is literally melting 😩 this post was getting too long so i excluded some of the characters but expect a part. 2 (more like part 3 but part 2 to the mondstadt version)! 

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diluc

man. this MAN.

that’s it, that’s the headcanon. 

he would literally be the most doting lover in the softest ways

SUCH a soft romantic like you thought you knew love??? nah this man will show you what love is

will constantly leave you things around the winery to convey his silent thank you’s and appreciation for you putting up with him being busy for most of the day

it’s always the most thoughtful things ever too like-

you mentioned how nice it would be to have some fresh lemonade with the hotter weather outside but it was too late in the day to actually go to the market in search of fresh lemons 

the next day you walked downstairs only to be greeted with a pitcher of cool lemonade with a side of lemon bars

there was a note attached to the handle of the pitcher <3 

“i recall you mentioning how lemonade would be perfect for the warmer weather so i decided to make some for you this morning. i hope it’s still cool by the time you drink it. love, d” 

pls sir your hand in marriage

he secretly loves it when you usher him to bed after waking up in the dead of night to see him working by candlelight on reports 

soft hands on his cheeks gently whispering about how, it’s been far too long and come to bed, darling and there will be time for this in the morning

his protests are light given the dark purple hues under his crimson eyes but he’ll still make a little fuss 

don’t let this man fool you tho he’s so so touched that you care enough to check up on him and drag him to bed!!

sometimes on the days he has a bit more free time, the two of you will quickly grab your dinners and race to the highest spot in the winery to watch the setting sun

these moments are always filled with laughter, something you’ve found you’re easily able to pull out of diluc, simply because it’s you 

uncontrollable sobbing

he would let you paint his nails black like the angsty man he is 

frankly he would let you do anything to him if it makes you happy <3 

ok but wait diluc w bLACK NAILS?? AND RINGS??? i would die on the spot ⚰️

on the topic of makeup, this man is surprisingly really good w it 

i like to think he learned after practicing on kaeya when they were younger bc kaeya was really into makeup

you found out after babysitting klee one day and trying failing to draw eyeliner on the sweet girl after her “big brother ‘bedo!”

you hastily grabbed some wipes, gently wiping off the messed up design before attempting to dive back in 

diluc however, had some down time so he decided to check up on his favorite chaotic duo 

only to be met with a pile of dirtied makeup wipes, your frustrated expression, and klee’s growing jitteriness 

swiftly moving to your side, he quietly asked if you needed help 

you glanced up quizzically before handing him the eyeliner, already looking around to find more makeup wipes when this inevitably goes wrong 

to your utter surprise tho the eyeliner is perfect??? two perfect winged lines??? in less than a minute??? WHAT

you just stood there like 😦 before diluc got back up and handed you the eyeliner 

you were short-circuiting, klee was ecstatic, diluc was worried about you 

ok last thing abt diluc 

crack! warning but the both of you like lowkey pranking kaeya 

for diluc it’s revenge on his annoying brother; for you it’s good - natured sibling rivalry fun 

every time the two of you see kaeya, one of you always swipes something of his 

small things really, it could be a pen or a handkerchief

one time, diluc swiped kaeya’s spare eyepatch and from the looks of it, kaeya’s only spare black eyepatch bc he was frantically looking for it yk he’s desperate when he even asked diluc if he saw it

the two of you spent an hour nearly laughing your asses off 

all in all, life w him is so sweet 

kaeya

pretty boy? pretty boy. 

while i can’t guarantee stability, life would never be boring w this man that’s for sure

piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 🗣 piggy back rides 

he LOVES it, the feel of you on his back while he’s walking around mondstadt most likely carrying you to your commission 

he finds it comforting especially since he can hear the rumble of your voice against him while you recount stories, or just babble on about everything under the sun 

he is SO dramatic so obviously when y’all reach the site of the commission he has to kill all the monsters even tho the both of you agreed to split it up evenly 

he makes quick work of his set before stealing some of yours much to your chagrin 

you scold him but can you really be mad at him when he looks drop dead gorgeous freezing the hilichurls the answer is no, no you cannot be

oh my god ok wait-

he does this thing where he tries to spook you in public 

so say you’re getting groceries at the mondstadt general store

you round the corner just minding your own business, looking around, taking in the sunshine 

and suddenly you just hear someone drop in behind you but before you can register anything you hear a soft “boo” and hands circle your waist 

you jump SIKE let’s be honest you shrieked 

meanwhile kaeya’s just laughing his ass off 

you can hear his rich peals of laughter while you attempt to regain your bearings 

he does this so often you SHOULD be used to it but you really aren’t bc mans is SNEAKY-

he cards his fingers in your hair whenever you’re speaking 

he doesn’t know why, it’s just a cute habit and he finds the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing

oH on the topic of comfort, kaeya really likes resting two fingers on the back of your neck???

ik he seems like the type to throw his arm around your shoulder which yes he totally is but during more serious conversations his hand automatically seeks out the warmth of your neck 

your neck feels amazing especially during the warmer months due to his chilly fingers contrasting with your warm skin  

he likes that he’s able to access such a vulnerable part of you and you would willingly let him 

HE GETS YOU MATCHING OUTFITS

no i will NOT take criticism on this i just kNOW he’s that type of guy

it would be those stupid “i’m his” and “they’re mine” sweatshirts like BYE 

it’s so cringy but for some reason it’s oddly adorable and you truly despise it but you can’t seem to say no whenever he asks 

you pretend to ignore the look of pity diluc throws your way whenever he sees you like this

kaeya really loves accessories so i think he would be the type to give you a promise ring or something similar to show that he truly does care for you 

he would brush it off, flirting a little like usual before handing you the ring 

with the way his cheeks softly darken though, you know he’s being genuine 

TICKLE FIGHTS ik i mentioned this for childe but shhhh

he has tickle fingers??? his hands just loOK like they’re itching to tickle someone so you’ll most likely be the unfortunate victim 

he will not show you mercy. at all. he’ll tickle you until there are tears streaming from your eyes, your face is hot, and your voice is hoarse from laughing so damn hard 

it gives him such a rush of serotonin its SO CUTE 

i feel like this goes without saying but he’s super into pda,,, anything and everything is on the table 

hand holding? duh. ass grabs? ofc. carrying you bridal style around mondstadt? why not 

ik he’s typically very playful but once the relationship reaches a certain stage, he’ll slowly start to let down the walls that surround his facade 

very very slowly show you the more realistic parts of him 

the real, damaged pieces of his soul 

he’ll be carefully monitoring your reaction though, any sign of fear or disgust will have him recoiling within himself again and you most likely will never see his true nature ever again 

SO BE CAREFUL 👹

once you’ve seen the parts of him he’s offered to you, the hushed whispers of his past, and the uncertain lines of his future, he will take off his eyepatch 

pretends like he’s not super nervous but he’s SWEATING- 

the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen though hands down 

you can understand why he covers it up but you would like it if he felt comfortable enough to take off the eyepatch occasionally when he’s with you 

also!!! sleeps with his eyepatch side facing you (in the event he wears it to bed) 

if this happens you KNOW he trusts you bc it’s his blindside <3 

anyways life w kaeya will never be boring but he is a very complicated man 

stay with him though, i promise it’ll be worth it 

jean

the key to jean’s heart is coffee and food 

GET HER COFFEE AND FOOD

i am begging you she deserves it 😭

the poor woman works so hard bc the knights are so mf understaffed, this is literally the best way you can ever show her your love and appreciation when she has work

she will MELT if you have a hot shower and dinner waiting for her when she inevitably returns later than she promised

will completely refuse at first with, “you did not have to do this, it’s too much” but shush her as you shOULD bc she deserves the entire world 

she’s the definition of “you do something for me, i’ll return the favor ten times grander”

you leave a flower on her desk bc it reminded you of her??? you’ll wake up to find a whole bouquet of the prettiest windwheel asters you’ve ever seen the next morning along with a thank you note

she’s so sweet BYE

she gets flustered extremely easily so you obviously use this as an opportunity to tease her 

when you’re in public rest your hand on her waist and inch it higher until your hand is underneath her shirt and in contact with her warm skin 

she’ll actually short-circuit its quite adorable 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and you’ll hear whispers of her insecurities 

“am i a good grand master? will i ever be as valiant as vanessa?”

reassure her!!! tell her that she doesn’t need to be like vanessa, she’s already amazing as jean 

if you haven’t seen her in awhile, track her down and schedule a lunch date 

she never misses appointments and if it’s for you, she’ll gladly make time to see you even if she has to stay up even later than usual 

OH-

GIVE HER MASSAGES 

she has so much tension and the sorest muscles from hunching over papers and running around on errands 

if you sneak into her office and quietly stand behind her before gently pushing down on the sore tendons of her neck, she’ll genuinely fall over on her desk 

so make sure you steady her 😀

after you feel how tight her muscles are though, you drag her to barbara bc she needs a healer asap 😭

while most of your time is spent in her office - you helping out in the ways you can while jean is overseeing knight duties - you still have your fair share of life outside of the favonius headquarters

jean never likes to sit still so whenever you have free time, the both of you head off looking for monsters to clear

bouken da bouken???

adventuring w jean is seriously the funnest thing you could ever do 

it’s just non-stop you accidentally getting into trouble and her having to come help you 

even tho the both of you are dead tired after fighting, what? 20 hilichurl camps now??? the laughter and joy in your eyes shows how you both truly loved every minute of it

it’s both a stress reliever, good fun, and a work-out <3

you’re definitely prone to getting dragged to angel’s share w kaeya 

kaeya and jean sometimes hang out after work at the tavern so inevitably you’re dragged along too 

all three of you are drunk out of your minds which just makes everything a MILLION times funnier 

kaeya slurring over his words makes the two of you start cackling endlessly while diluc just shakes his head making sure to not give you more wine despite your pleas 

angel’s share ft. kaeya and bartender diluc are always the best times fr fr 

life with her literally feels like y’all are married 

so much domesticity it’s so NICE ALJDKSFH

your house is always so clean and the color scheme is impeccable bc jean has such a good eye 

you have a chore schedule 😎 but it almost never works out bc jean ends up doing everything without you knowing- 

you always confront her abt it and she’s like 😁 “i had some time so i did them! no worries tho” like i- time??? where bitc-

oH- she has amazing style so you can bet shopping w her is literally the best experience 

she takes you to all of the hidden gems some places lisa recommended and helps you pick out things 

will 100% get really blushy if you come out in something and ask her for her opinion tho she’s literally the cutest

basically jean is a sweet girl who deserves the entirety of teyvat that is all. 

thanks for reading! if you have any requests don’t hesitate to send them in <3 

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Falling (Alec Volturi x Reader)

WARNING: Gore! Death!

The day had started off so well, peaceful. More peaceful than it had been the past couple of days prior. Yet things went down hill as night fell and seemed to only get worse. Eventually you were told what was happening. The Volturi was under attack. 

Aro didn't have to touch Alec to know his thoughts as his gaze fixated on you. He couldn't leave you unprotected but couldn't neglect the leaders. Ultimately, you were sent to be with the wives who were at the very top of the tower, guards standing guard at the entrance. 

"Everything will be fine." Athenodora told you as she gripped your arms tightly. "Our husbands will be with us soon. You don't need to fear." Sulpicia added. You nodded but were unable to hold back tears. Athenodora pulled you into her arms, holding you close. Her motherly instinct coming through in your moment of need. Truth be told, the Volturi were ever so slightly more attached to you than regular humans. Not just because you were Alec's mate but also because you were very unlike them. You were completely innocent and it often made vampires wonder just what Alec saw in you considering the two of you were so different. Now if anyone were to question it, Alec would lose his temper considering it an attack on you. It also meant you were very sheltered by the Volturi. You didn't know the details of Alec's past. Only the necessary parts and you knew next to nothing of what he had done over the centuries. Alec wanted it that way, considering it to hurt you more than anything. It wouldn't have been to your benefit. 

Before you could be reassured any further, there was loud thuds, one after the other. Athenodora gestured for you to go to the other side of the room. Whatever caught their eye made both Sulpicia and Athenodora hiss and growl. As they moved to maintain their distance, a man, also a vampire, made his way into the room. He had platinum blonde hair and striking red eyes. "Good evening ladies." He smirked, his accent very prominent. He cast a glance to you. "Good evening to you too, little human." You stayed quiet, nervous and something about the man told you that you had every reason to be-even if you don't know those reasons. "I assume you may not know me. I doubt they'd tell you and judging by your face I would be correct." He grinned at you, the grin sinister. "My name is Vladimir and I have some business to attend to with this coven." You trembled in fear as you looked between who you now knew to be Vladimir, Athenodora and Sulpicia. "Shaking like a leaf." Vladimir said to himself, his eyes running up and down your figure. "I wonder if you'd do the same if you knew what those witch twins have done in their wretched existence." "It's alright, sweetheart." Athenodora called out from behind him. "You'll be alright." "Don't say that." Vladimir said softly, over his shoulder. "It's a lie." "They aren't involved in this. Don't hurt them when they are innocent." Sulpicia responded. Vladimir scoffed. "Since when did the Volturi ever care for innocents?" Vladimir said coldly before turning his attention to you once more. "They're involved now. Alec is the one infatuated with you, isn't it? Or was it Jane? I'm quite certain it was Alec." Vladimir was in front of you in moments. You stifled a scream, biting your lips and breathing quickly. Vladimir tilted his head with sympathy, whether it was real sympathy or not, you couldn't be sure. "Poor thing, you'll have a heart attack if you don't calm yourself little one." Vladimir took your face in his hands and you froze. "Come now, deep breaths. I want you aware for what comes next." You did as he asked, simply out of fear of what would happen if you did not. "That's it." He said with a malicious smile. "I must inform you that Alec isn't coming for you. You see, the higher ranked guards have their leaders as priority and their leaders...are only really concerned for their remaining mates. They're going to discover that I've incapacitated their guards protecting their wives." You immediately thought to Afton, Chelsea, Corin and then Renata. Although she must have been with Aro. Vladimir continued. "I have no doubt they'll come in time for them. I can't say the same for you, little one."

A tear ran down your face and Vladimir brushed it away with his thumb. "Are you going to kill me?" You asked quietly between breaths. Vladimir nodded with a hum. You immediately broke out into sobs, terrified of the man who had your head in his hands. Vladimir hushed you softly. "I know, it's not fair. However, if you knew... you'd understand." He walked you back towards the balcony door. "I'm not going to bite you. I'm not going to break your neck. I'm not going to do anything like that. That's too easy and I don't particularly want you to suffer. I want that wretched witch twin to suffer. Although I'm not going to guarantee you a painless death." "Vladimir..." Athenodora called, trying to take his attention from you, a small but desperate attempt to save your life. "I know, even I am struggling to go through with this. That terrified face, a little human who doesn't understand what's happening around them. Even I can feel sympathy." Vladimir said to the wives as he stared into your eyes. "Then don't." Sulpicia said flatly. "You've made your point." "No, I haven't." Vladimir responded. "You took everything from me. I will make you all suffer and those witch twins will know the feeling of what it's like to lose someone you love. When every last one of you are in pieces. Only then, will I have made my point." His face softened once more. "However, I will extend my apologies to you. You seem to be a lovely person but the company you keep...not so much. So you pay the price. That is the way of the world." 

Before you could even register what was happening, Vladimir forcefully walked you back before pushing you hard. Your eyes widened, mouth opening with a silent scream as you felt your body topple over the banister. Vladimir turned back to the wives with a smirk. "Do you really think me such a fool that I wouldn't notice Jane slowly getting closer?" 

Vladimir was thoroughly enjoying the current predicament. He had both you and the wives in the same room and at his mercy. He would enjoy it for as long as he could. Therefore Jane had to be particularly careful. She couldn't rush there, not when you were there. There was a better chance at keeping all three of you alive if she moved slowly, let him talk as she sneaked closer. However she knew she had to get there before any were hurt. Jane heard your pounding heart and then your sobs when Vladimir made his intentions known. She made it to her room and stilled. This would be the one place she had a good chance at hiding as it was filled with her scent. 

From this point onwards, she had to be quick. However she couldn't being herself to move. She looked up towards the ceiling, listening for the tower. Vladimir had moved, as you had and realisation struck. She wouldn't make it in time, not for you. The wives yes, but not you. She couldn't let the panic set in even though she knew it was over. The next thing she knew, you were falling. 

Everything went quiet for you, only the wind whistling in your ears as you floated. Maybe if you thought you were floating, it wouldn't be so frightening. Although the thought didn't help because you weren't floating. You were falling. You couldn't even scream, clawing the air as though that would have stopped you. If you didn't move, you'd land head first and if you had to land, then you didn't want it to be on your head. 

For Jane, time slowed down as soon as she saw you passing her window. The two of you locked eyes for a moment. Her shocked eyes meeting your terrified ones. There was so much she wanted to tell you in that moment and even more so, she wanted to grab you but couldn't believe her eyes. You were falling too quick and she wouldn't reach you in time. 

Time seemed to gain speed once more once you passed the window. All the while Jane rushed to the window, falling to her knees letting out a scream of horror. Her twins mate was falling to their death and she couldn't do anything about it. You had moved, you'd land on your back but suddenly that didn't matter anymore. You knew you wouldn't survive this. You looked up at the sky- trying to ignore how the castle's tower grew taller and taller by the second. 

Glass shattering was the next sound to be heard beyond Jane's scream. Demetri and Felix were running towards Jane whilst Alec headed towards the shattering glass. Demetri and Felix rushed into Jane’s room, four stories up the tower. Jane was supposed to be guarding the entrance to the tower and to hear her scream was beyond concerning as well as frightening. The two men found her on her knees, staring at the window. "What-" Demetri couldn't finish his sentence because multiple stories down, Alec's own scream could be heard. "Alec!" Jane screamed as she clutched the floor boards, almost as though in pain. In agony for her twin. 

Alec could smell the blood, but didn't think it could be yours. However when he found your body sprawled out across the ground surrounded in glass and covered with cuts and blood. There was more than that though, a small steady pool of blood had began to grow from underneath you. The smell of blood suddenly for overwhelming, along with the shock. He slapped a hand over his mouth and nose, throwing himself against the stone wall behind him. Before he could hold back, Alec let out a gut wrenching, agonized scream. 

The receptionist, Carmella, rushed in hearing the commotion. Perhaps it was a foolish thing to do, if anything survival instinct should have told her to run the opposite direction of the screams but they sounds so pained and panicked, with so many other emotions there was surely a list. She gasped, a cry of horror escaping her when she opened the door to see you across the room, sprawled out on the ground, surrounded by glass. A hole in the glass roof where you had fallen through. Carmella turned hearing more cries and screams in the corner. Alec had nearly indented the wall with his attempt to push himself back. His hands covering his nose and mouth but his screaming was so loud that it did nothing to really muffle the screams. Carmella was quick to take off her heels rushing towards you. "Help them!" Alec began to scream. "(Y/N)!" Alec continued to scream and cry as Carmella moved as much glass as she could to allow her room. "They're not breathing!" Alec cried out in hysteria. Carmella was quick to press a finger to her lips, doing her best to calm him despite the scene having her tremble too. "Alec, shh! You need to be quiet, these men are still here!" "Save my (Y/N)!" Alec yelled back. "Alec, you need to stop screaming! I will try to help them but you'll bring them here. Don't scream!" Carmella pleaded.  Alec curled into himself, still in hysterics, but not screaming as much. Mostly talking to himself, begging you not to leave him, inconsolable for his (Y/N). Carmella looked at your lidded eyes, swallowing hard. You were younger than her and to see you lifeless hit her very hard. She put her hands on your chest, pressing down repeatedly. After sometime, stopping to pinch your nose and breathing twice into your mouth. You didn't respond and she repeated the process. "(Y/N), please!" Alec begged. "You can't leave me! Please! Wake up!" Alec took a deep unnecessary breath. "Breathe!" He screamed. 

Athenodora looked at Vladimir with disgust but was unable to hide her own grief. "Breathe!" They heard Alec scream. "Now he knows what that feels like." Vladimir said flatly. "Now he knows what that loss feels like." Vladimir smirked slightly. "Maybe he has it worse. Our kind are still alive when ripped to pieces, it's the fire that kills us. Humans are such fragile beings." Athenodora glowered at him. "You chose the easier target, that is all." "No I chose the one you least expected." Vladimir retorted. "You're all so busy protecting yourselves. You would know, you're kept in a tower. That all of you forgot the easier target. I know how much that human means to many of you. Him, no less." Vladimir nodded behind him, talking about Alec. "Aren't they they child you never had?" Vladimir asked, tilting his head. Athenodora glared at him. "You don't know what you're talking about." "I'll admit, they almost had me. That face, filled with fear. They're innocent, I'll give them that much but this world punishes you for the company you keep." Vladimir sighed. "I'll admit expect you two will put up more fight, won't you?" Athenodora and Sulpicia stared him down, they wouldn't show him any fear. They wouldn't give him the luxury. Instead, they looked at him in anger. 

"Come back to me!" Alec cried out as Carmella bit her lip, beginning to lose hope. "Breathe!" Alec pleaded. "Please, breathe!" Carmella froze, she could have sworn you moved. "Alec?" Carmella said quickly, feeling for a pulse. However, Alec was too distraught to hear anything. "Alec!" Carmella yelled. It was enough to gain his attention. "Are they breathing? Are the alive!?" Carmella continued to dig around your neck for a pulse when Alec gasped. At the same time Carmella felt it. A faint pulse, but there. "They're... they're alive." Alec said quietly, eyes wide with disbelief. In that time Demetri rushed in. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the scene. "Is there a heart beat!?" It was Carmella's turn to feel hysteria as it slowly built up. "It's...it's still there." Alec said quietly. If he could have cried he would have. The relief, silencing him.  "It won't last long." Demetri ground out before looking to Alec. Alec looked back at Demetri, understanding what Demetri had to do. Alec nodded.  Demetri moved Carmella out of the way. "Carmella, leave. Get out of here." Demetri ordered and she did.  Demetri moved your head to the side, biting your neck, moving your head to the other side before biting your neck again. He took both of your wrists, biting each. "I can't do anymore. I won't be able to stop." Alec nodded. "Four should be enough." 

Carmella broke out into a run before being face to face with Stefan. She screamed before Stefan roughly grabbed her by the neck. "You are interfering." Stefan snarled before biting into Carmella's neck and pulling back, taking any flesh latched against his teeth with him. Carmella immediately began to choke, as Stefan dropped her to the ground. Alec and Demetri heard the commotion. With a newfound calm Alec turned to Demetri with a dark look in his eyes. "Get them out of here." Demetri understood. Alec couldn't take you away from here, the smell of your blood being too much. Demetri's gaze flickered to the door. It seemed Alec had other ideas. Demetri nodded, scooping you up. 

Alec marched down the hall, seeing red, everywhere he went. Before him was Carmella, choking on her own blood. He bent down. "Thank you." Alec said without emotion. "I am grateful for all you have done to save my (Y/N). I'll make this easier for you." Alec took Carmella's head in his hands as she continued to choke, but maintained eye contact with him. He twisted quickly with ease as and loud snap erupted.  With ease, Alec stood up once more, hunting down every last one who was responsible for your possible demise. Alec wasn't stupid, you were still in danger, you had to survive the change and whilst that was still to be known, the hurt and rage he felt continued to build. 

"Jane, have you fed?" She heard Demetri demand as he marched down the hall. "Yes." She opened the door, meeting Demetri with your limp body. She let out a choked gasp. "Are they...?" "I had to. They had already died once." Demetri said quickly and Jane swallowed, remembering your eyes locking with hers as you fell. "Will you stay with them?" Demetri asked as he put you on the bed. "Yes. You go. Make them suffer for this." Jane said firmly. "I won't lie to you, Jane." Demetri said, turning to meet her gaze. "If Alec gets to them first, there won't be much left." 

Aro, Caius, Marcus, Renata, Santiago and other guards burst through the tower doors. Immediately, Caius and Aro grabbed their wives, pulling them behind them. Vladimir simply grinned, raising a finger. "Can you hear it? The agony of losing a mate?" They all could, Alec's screams, Jane's agony for her twin. Vladimir turned to Marcus specifically. "You and I know that pain better than anybody." Marcus glowered at him. He could tolerate being the cause of misery for many, he had taken many mates from others but seeing his mates killer before him, grinning at the loss of Alec's mate was something that filled him with rage. Yet he did not move. Vladimir was alone and with them and if the Volturi had anything to say about it, he wouldn't be leaving alive. "I have a whole castle to my disposal so, stick together is my advice." Within seconds Vladimir jumped over the same balcony you had, in the other side from which you fell and landed on the roof. Then he was gone. 

"Santiago, help Afton, Chelsea and Corin." Aro said lowly. "Dear ones, we best find a safe place...for now." The group had moved to Jane's room, where Demetri was just about to take his leave. This was the safest place they could be, Jane being one of their greatest weapons. Athenodora smoothed back your hair, kneeling at your bedside. "You're going to be alright sweetheart." She said quietly. Her eyes ran over your broken, bruised and bloodied body as the group were updated on what happened to you after the fall. Demetri explained he was the one to change you, biting four times but it was the self control he had left. Aro wasn't entirely certain it would be enough considering the amount of damage you had taken. Nearly all of your bones were broken and the venom needed to travel throughout your body before your heart gave up for a second time. "Let me." Jane said suddenly, from the other side of you from Athenodora. "Let me match the number of Demetri's bites." "Jane, your self control isn't as refined as Demetri's, even if you have just fed. Can you be certain you could stop four times?" Marcus responded. Jane hesitated. "I have to try. I can't let them...they can't die." She whispered. "Do as much as you can." Athenodora said firmly, reaching for Jane's hand. "I'll take over if I need to." "Athen-" Caius spoke up but she cut him off. "Caius, if you don't support my decision then do so but keep it to yourself. (Y/N) will be one of us and I refuse to lose another person I loved to the Romanians, to anyone." The group knew immediately she was talking about Didyme. Athenodora had struggled greatly when Didyme died. She had lost a sister and it nearly broke her. When the twins introduced you to her, she loved you immediately. Something about you drew you in and made her feel protective of you. Whenever Caius gave you a hard time, as he did everyone, Athenodora would shut him down on it immediately. She was the only person who could. However Caius, knew you were different to Athenodora, you weren't her sister. Athenodora couldn't help but look at you as though you were her child. Filling the motherly role you had since lost when being brought into the vampire world by Alec. It came so naturally that it even rubbed off on Caius ever so slightly. He was harder on you not just because you were human but because he cared. Almost taking the fatherly role but refusing it with every fibre of his being. Yet no matter how much he tried, his intentions were always in your best interest. No matter how hard on you he was. 

Caius sighed, moving to his wife's side on the floor before looking to Jane. "If it's too much, you stop. We'll take over." Jane nodded, looking at you one last time before leaning towards your shoulder. Jane managed two bites, cursing herself for her poor self control. Whilst Aro reminded her that it takes more self control to change someone in such a condition, if anything it showed how much self control she could find within herself. As Aro reassured Jane, Caius and Athenodora nodded to one another before she bit down.  Athenodora hadn't changed anyone before despite being one of the oldest vampires in existence. She reeled back trying to focus on you rather than your blood in her mouth, mixed with venom. Caius gripped her hand, silently questioning her. She squeezed his hand. She just needed to do it one more time. He nodded to her, silently promising he would help her. They managed to match the number of Demetri's bites, four turning to eight on various places of your body. It was rare to have more than one vampires venom. Although it meant that if anyone had attachments to the Volturi, it was you. You had Athenodora's vemon, attaching you to her, as well as Caius by extension. Demetri's venom and Jane's venom. Whilst it wasn't Alec's venom, Jane was his biological twin. It was the next best thing. You were their responsibility. 

Usually someone would be thrashing in agony. They couldn't help but wonder why you were still but your heart pounding almost out of your chest, stronger than ever. Aro and Marcus came to the realisation before anyone else.  Almost all of your bones were broken, you wouldn't have been able to move. Alec turned to be met with Demetri and Felix. Their eyes turning black by the second but nothing close to Alec's completely pitch black ones. "Need a hand?" Felix smirked, eager for the hunt and fight almost immediately. "As we speak, Afton and Santiago are making their way towards us. Renata, Corin and Chelsea are with the masters. (Y/N) is in good hands." Before Alec could respond Afton and Santiago had arrived. "They're going to suffer." Alec said through a clenched jaw. "Damn right." Felix grinned and Alec appreciated how quickly Felix had agreed. Alec turned to Demetri. "You know where they are?" It was Demetri's turn to smile as he nodded. "Then let's go get them." Afton spoke up. "Make them hurt." "You're not usually the type to encourage violence." Felix smirked at Afton. Afton looked at Felix. "Vladimir took Chelsea's head off before me. He's given me just as much of a reason as he has Alec. As far as I see it, doing that to (Y/N) was more than enough for brutality. I'm more than happy to assist for my Chelsea." Felix clapped Afton on the shoulder. "Good man. We'll show 'em not to mess with our mates." 

"We need to move their head." Marcus noted softly, looking at you. It was clear your neck was healing judging by the bones beginning to knit together once more, less jutting out and threatening to break the skin. Marcus delicately moved your head that had moved to the side and held it straight. With a pop, the venom swarmed the remaining broken areas. It's success was heard when a broken pained exhale passed through your nose. Marcus carefully let go, allowing your now completely healed neck to rest.  “It's their spinal cord, just under their skull." Marcus answered Athenodora's silent questioning as to what the popping had been. "What about the back of their head?" Sulpicia asked. "They're laying on it and..." She trailed off. Judging by the look on Athenodora's face, she struggled to finish the sentence. That your head was caved in and bloody from the back. "It'll be fine, my dear." Aro reassured his mate. "The venom will fix it. It may just take a little longer." "I want to make them hurt." Jane ground out, gaining the attention of the rest of the group. She glared at the wall, jaw clenched tightly. "You must stay with us, dear one." Aro responded. "Your brother has this handled. You know him. Those two will have hell to pay." Marcus added. "The look in (Y/N)'s eyes as they fell. They were terrified. They looked at me and I couldn't do anything to stop it." Jane continued somewhat weakly. Athenodora rose from her chair to Jane's side and pulled her in. Athenodora kissed the side of Jane's head delicately. "You did everything we could have ever expected you to. (Y/N) knows that. There was nothing you could have done. Don't torment yourself so." Jane stared at you from her own seat as Athenodora cradled Jane as best she could standing up.  "After all these years, the Romanians still don't understand one simple thing." Caius said. "What's that?" Jane asked. "That they might win some battles but the Volturi always win the war." Caius said with ease. 

Stefan was fast but Afton was faster. Afton had him by the neck, turning visible once more. "You've made quite a mistake coming here." Santiago said from behind Stefan. "Ready to pay the price?" Felix asked, grinning widely. "You did it to yourselves." Stefan responded before swiping at Afton. "What was it Vladimir said up at the tower again?" Felix asked. "Anyone recall?" "I believe the words were 'you seem to be a lovely person but the company you keep- not so much. So you must pay the price.' " Santiago responded. " 'That is the way of the world.' " Demetri added. "So you'll understand what comes next, won't you?" Felix grinned. The group lunged at Stefan. 

Sulpicia was the first to make comment on the brutality they could hear. Tearing, ripping, snarls, growls and groans as well as many thuds of footsteps and likely bodies hitting the ground. "Such brutality..." She said as though considering the sounds to be impolite. As though higher than what was happening. "Good." Athenodora said darkly. "I hope they do more." 

Stefan was covered in cracks, his limbs jutting out in odd angles, some nearly torn from him completely. Alec kneeled down, his knee going on Stefan's chest who groaned as he felt the cracks along his chest get pushed in further, threatening to tear more. "I'm going to make you both hurt. Just as (Y/N) did. I will break every bone and just when you think I'm done. You'll realise it's only the beginning." 

After staring at you for some time, Athenodora rose from her seat once more. Immediately going to Jane's bathroom with a random bowl shaped decoration, she turned on the tap, filling it with warm water. "What are you doing, my love?" Caius called out to her. She re-emerged with the bowl and a towel. "Getting some of the blood out of their hair. When they wake up, the last thing we need is to either scare them or having them try feed from their own blood." Athenodora said firmly. "Jane, might I use your comb?" Jane nodded immediately grabbing it and moving towards Athenodora. Sulpicia sighed with reluctance. "Very well, I'll get the other side." She went into the bathroom and returned with another towel. "Are you dividing each section and working through?" Sulpicia asked. "Yes." Athenodora said quietly, already focused on the section she had. She was delicate with her tactic. She started at the bottom of your hair and worked her way up to the roots, wetting the comb every so often as red smeared the crisp white towel. Caius couldn't help but be in awe of his wife as always. He was certain no one had even considered taking the blood out of your hair the whole time yet she was the first. "We're going to have to clean them properly when we can move them." Sulpicia said. "One thing at a time." Athenodora said quietly, swallowing hard. "Right now we just need to get the blood out." 

Alec gripped Stefan's head by his hair bringing it to eye-level. "I'm not done with you yet, you're coming with us." Afton looked at the scattered limbs across the room that were covered in cracks, including Stefan's face. "What do you want to do with these?" He asked. Alec cast a glance to the limbs too. "Leave them. They aren't going anywhere." The guards moved down the hall once more Alec having Stefan's head on proud display. "We're close." Demetri said quietly. Alec gripped Stefan's head tightly. He felt the rage build up in him and everyone knew exactly what was coming next. 

The guards were in an intense stare down with Vladimir. "You understand now, don't you? The pain you caused." "I took people from you." Alec said stoically. "I understand that." Alec lifted the head to Vladimir's line of sight. "I took another from you." Vladimir hissed, angered by the sight. "Or at least I will." Alec said before he tossed the head towards Vladimir. His eyes narrowed on Vladimir, his jaw tight. "You took my human from me." Alec began. "Maybe they'll survive this and be fine after this night but no matter how this ends- I'll never see my little human again." Alec's jaw twisted. "You hurt my mate and I will rip you limb from limb and make you suffer for it. You think I was bad back then? Well, you're about to face your worst nightmare. That was nothing! Nothing compared to what I will do now!" Alec began to hysterically scream, the other guards just barely catching up to him when he lunged at Vladimir. 

Demetri was the first to enter Jane’s room. "It's over." He said, confirming everyone's speculations. Everything had gone quiet after a long time of hearing Alec's constant screams. When it finally stopped, they couldn't help but think the Romanians were no more. The others followed through. Alec's eyes were pitch black and immediately moved to you on the bed. "For a second I thought Alec was going to put the Romanians back together with the other's limbs as well as a mix of their own. Neither of them went peacefully." Felix said. "They burn as we speak." Demetri said. Afton was next to move heading towards Chelsea, his hands cradling her face and inspecting her. 

Even after the rest left, Jane, Alec, Demetri and Felix remained with you. "What if they aren't...what if they won't...?" Alec trailed off unable to say the words. "Who knows if they hear us but...we have to think they'll survive. They will. They have to." Jane responded. After a moment of silence, Jane looked to her brother. "Talk to them. It'll help the two of you."  "Despite my appearance, I'm old (Y/N). So very old. You asked me how old I was when I was changed and I couldn't answer you. That's always been the one question my sister and I could never answer. We had forgotten any kind of clue to help us figure it out. Although it doesn't matter. I've been on this earth so very long. So if you could please just, save me a broken heart and survive this." Alec pressed your cold hand into his cheek tightly but still reminding himself to be gentle. "You're young. You- you need to survive this. I have seen some wicked things, oh, but sweet-face the beautiful things I have seen over so many years. I want to you to see it. Even more so I want you more selfishly for myself. I can't imagine continuing this existence without you. You have given me the most wonderful time I have ever had. I want more." Alec let out a short pained laugh. "I know you said you weren't fond of becoming a vampire but there are less extreme ways to go about it." Alec pressed a kiss to your hand, squeezing his eyes shut. "I know you're not that opposed though." He said quietly. "You promised me remember? You promised me I could keep you."  “They’ll make it, Alec.” Demetri assured him. “This is (Y/N). They’re one of the strongest humans we know.” Alec’s eyes drifted to Demetri. “They died already. I felt it, the pain of losing them and I can’t help but think it’s only the beginning.”  “It isn’t, we got them back.”  “Now they’re fighting for their life once again.” Felix cracked a smile. "That's love for you." He said simply, catching Alec, Demetri and Jane’s attention. “What?” Alec said in confusion.  "Funny thing I've noticed about humans, if they love you, they'll always come back to you." Felix smiled before meeting Alec’s eyes. “Believe me, (Y/N) will pull through.” Felix raised his index finger. “You can hear it.” They could. They could hear your heart pounding fast as the venom coursed through your body. “You’re right, (Y/N) died after that fall. However, we got them back and right now i am willing to bet that human is fighting with everything they have to wake up and come back to us.” 

The twins lowered you into the tub, in a sitting position but your back propped against the end of the bath. Allowing clear access for Alec to see the back of your head. He immediately faltered. "I can do this alone if you like?" Jane offered. Seeing her brothers black eyes with his face contorted as though pained by the sight and he was. Seeing your now healed head and remembering how it was previously as well as the large amount of blood dried into the back of your head was painful. Alec shook his head. "No, I'll help. It's healed. It's only the aftermath." Alec responded, mostly reminding himself. He grabbed the shampoo, pouring a large amount into his hand. Carefully, he rubbed it into your head. He'd never done this before but he couldn't consider this a positive first time given your condition. The white liquid began to foam and then redden by the second. Alec continued to work his fingers through your hair and scalp. As Alec dealt with your head, Jane got a damp cloth running it over the bite marks on your neck. She paused hearing her brother swallow down a moan of pain. She looked towards him. "There's still some glass...in their head." He managed out weakly. Jane said nothing at first, the venom should have pushed the glass out as it passed through healing any breaks in the skin. Although those remaining must have been dug in deep. "I don't want to hurt them." Alec said. "Brother, they're already in pain." Jane said weakly seeing how this tortured her brother. "The wounds will close immediately after." She reassured him as she stood up, digging for tweezers. She had never used them, never had the need for them yet she was glad she had them in that moment. Neither twin fond of the thought of digging into your head with their fingers. "Let me." She said quietly as Alec moved to give his sister some room. Her movements were delicate and quick four tiny pieces of glass removed quickly and effectively. However the two stared at the small pieces before looking at one another. Alec inspected your scalp, brushing the hair around. Where the glass had been imbedded. "No blood." He confirmed, his eyes widened slightly. That was a very good sign. Jane nodded with a small smile. "They're already closing up." Jane moved back to the side of the tub and Alec once more focused on your head. "I'll need to take their clothes off." Jane sighed. "We got anywhere we could reach at the time." Alec nodded. "I'll lift their head. Whilst you remove their shirt." If it had been anyone else, a comment would have been made about Alec seeing you topless. However, the twins could be significantly more mature about that than Felix. The one that was most likely to make such a comment. Thankfully, Felix had kept his distance...mostly thanks to Demetri who had him preoccupied. 

"They've begun to lose their colour." Jane said. "I thought so too, sister." Alec replied. The blood washed away from the bites with ease, leaving small prick-like dark holes that would be closing and change colour soon enough. 

Alec carried you back to the bed as Jane fixed the pillows. Gently, Alec lay you down. "There, that's better." Alec said, relieved that no longer had you been covered in dried blood. A gruesome reminder of what had happened to you. "We should go and feed now." Jane said, taking her brothers hand before he could consider refusing. 

A day passed. Alec's eyes widened as your head moved slightly. Your breathing had started to slow, your body forgetting the constant need to breathe. The movement wasn't rigid and forced out of you like movements and moans had been out of the agony. This movement looked more willing and peaceful. A soft exhale passing through your nose. 

When you woke up, it was Demetri and Felix's job to get you fed before Alec could even see you. He understood of course but Alec couldn't help the need to see you again. His gaze snapped towards any footsteps that neared throughout the eight hours you had been awake. Alec felt hopeful when Demetri returned. "Ah, you have returned, dear one." Aro smiled. "I trust (Y/N)'s first feeding was a success?" Demetri nodded. "They aren't driven constantly by the next meal but their control is as much as can be expected." His eyes moved to meet Alec's. "Someone really wants to see you." He smiled slightly, aware of Alec's emotions. "Bring them in." Aro said warmly. "Reunions can be such happy times." Demetri nodded at the permission. 

Felix entered, with you beside him. His eye was on you constantly, as everyone knew was necessary. However you didn't seem remotely bothered. Actually, it was as if you didn't know he was there. Your eyes immediately locking on Alec's. Alec broke formation immediately walking up to you. You looked at him in adoration, with new eyes, now bright red, seeing every little detail of him and seemingly, falling in love all over again. It was strange not hearing a heartbeat, or feeling warmth radiate off of you as Alec had grown accustomed to. He didn't want to startle you in any way, remembering you were still a newborn. You smiled at him brightly. When you reached out for him, he couldn't take it anymore. Against better judgement he quickly pulled you into him, his forehead against yours. His hands cradled your head as you continued to smile at him. Your own hands reaching up to cover his. He couldn't talk, emotions overwhelming him into silence whilst you seemed too focused on him to actually say anything. A few of the Volturi in the room couldn't help but smile at the scene. They knew how much Alec struggled and to see have you back with them, smiling when they thought you wouldn't make it was very much the happy ending Aro had always been so fond of.

[whumperooni]

Mr.Natsuo being your teacher and you purposely flirt with other boys as wear really short skirts in his class to make him ✨jealous ✨and horny , he asks to see you after class and you get fucked on his table 🥺🥺 Sorry I’m on my period and I’m going feral 😃

No, no- never apologize for this! It makes me feral too ♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡ Natsuo Sensei, please come get this pussy ♡

tags/warnings: teacher/student relationship, teacher kink, rough sex, unprotected sex, manipulation, improvised gags

A/N: I wrote Natsuo a bit more rough than I normally do, but I think it turned out okay;;; I also abused the words professor, doctor, sensei, and teacher;;;;

But. Ya know.

Enjoy! ♡

You were fucked the moment you walked into his classroom. Introduction to Human Anatomy and Physiology. 2:30 pm, Tuesdays and Thursdays. Led by Doctor Natsuo Todoroki. An insert into your schedule that seemed harmless enough. Interesting, surely. Something you were a little worried about- what if you turned out squeamish despite your love for all things horror and gore?- and something that would just fill your first semester of college. Harmless. Routine for your major. Nothing to give you any sort of fuss or throw you into a flustered little mess. Or, so you thought. Honestly, you hadn’t given much thought to what your professor might be like. You were more worried over having to share a dorm room with a stranger, if you could handle your class load, how hard it might be to adjust being away from home and all you’ve ever known. You suppose your mind’s eye might have conjured a vague image of a wrinkled and wizened old man with a stern gaze and whitened hair. You suppose you might have faintly imagined Doctor Todoroki to be a tired geezer in a lab coat and faded sweater vest. You suppose you might have had the predetermined, unconscious notion that your professor would be intelligent, elderly, stern and, well, someone who you would only think about in terms of being someone to give you tests and homework and lectures. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to find a smiling, young man with a handsome face and thick thighs, big arms. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to lock eyes with your professor and immediately go weak in the knees under a stormy gaze and a sunshine smile. You didn’t think that you would walk into the room to only have your breath snatched away, your cheeks flared with a flush, your heart forced into a thundering staccato.  You didn’t think that Doctor Todoroki would be hot. But, oh god- oh god- he’s gorgeous. Doctor Todoroki- well, Doctor Natsuo or even professor; he seems to prefer those much more than his family name- is, honestly, a living, breathing wet dream. He’s hot. He’s kind. He’s friendly. He’s funny. He’s perfect. The class that you thought would be only mildly interesting turns out to be your favorite. How could it not be when you’re blessed with a full hour of delicious eye candy, a teacher that’s so generous with his praise and has your spine tingling whenever he says your name? He’s so friendly and he’s so polite, too. The way he calls you Miss is a little old fashioned, sure, but it sends your mind reeling and your cheeks flushing- quick fantasies zipping through your thoughts as your thighs involuntarily push together. Your crush springs up from the moment you see him and it only gets stronger with each passing day. Little accidental brushes against you, the smiles he sends your way, the scent of his cologne whenever he leans over your table to correct an answer, the way his praise rings in your ears late at night- it all sends you spiraling. You’ve never had a crush quite like this before. Certainly not on a teacher. You want him, though. Oh, god, do you want him. Your roommate is the unfortunate one that has to hear you whine and moan over him- you’re much too embarrassed to admit your crush to your friends back home or any of your family; they’d be sure to scold you, to call you foolish and chide that you’re a silly little girl. She understands it, at least. That helps, keeps you from being too ashamed. “I mean, it’s no surprise you’ve got a thing for him,” she muses. “He’s young. He’s hot. Anyone would get a little crush.” You don’t like that thought, really. You don’t want to think about others lusting after your sensei. “Why not try shooting your shot?” At your scandalized look, she huffs and shrugs, rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on,” she scoffs. “No need to be such a good girl. Professors hook up with their students all the time. You just gotta be discreet.” “I can’t,” you protest- shaking your head and pulling your knees up to your chest. “And it’s not like he- he doesn’t see me in that kind of way.” “You don’t know that,” she counters with a click of her tongue. Another huff leaves her and it’s easy to see that her patience with the situation is waning. “Either feel it out or get over it or find someone else to moon over. There’s no point in moping and stewing.” You’re not moping. You’re just- you’re just- Okay, you’re mooning over him like she said. But you’re not moping. It’s just- it’s such a new situation for you. You’ve always had crushes on your peers- never anyone older than you by more than a year or two, never anyone in a position of authority over you. A taboo situation like this has never been your cup of tea- you’ve always been a good, sensible girl. Crushes on teachers have never been something you thought to entertain. But now? Well, now... You bite your lip and eye your reflection, nervously touch up your makeup in the bathroom mirror. It’s light and simple but pretty and sweet. Stalking Professor Natsuo’s social medias helped you gain the insight that he seems to prefer his women more natural and cute, innocent looking- all glossy lips and doe eyed, fluttering lashes with just the barest hint of mascara and blush. The false lashes might be a bit too much, but they make you look even more doll like and, that too, is something he seems to like. Pretty. Simple. Doll like. Sweet. Young. You think you’ve managed to put that look together rather nicely. The pleated skirt- just shy of rising above your knees- and the soft cardigan help, too, and, really, you don’t think you’ve ever looked quite so innocent before- even when you were a wide eyed, straight A, pure and untouched student back in high school. ...god, what are you doing? A groan leaves you and you nearly scrub the makeup from your face, nearly rip off the skirt and switch it out for the leggings you have stuffed inside your backpack. Nearly. You don’t think that this is really going to work. You don’t think that this is really going to draw any sort of reaction from him. And, well, maybe that’s what you need? Maybe you need to truly see that it’s a fruitless desire- maybe then it’ll shrivel up and away and you’ll be free from your sinful fantasies, free from the desire that has your head spinning. And, well, it’s been a while since you’ve dressed up a little, too- the rigors of college have had you leaning more toward comfort than style, have kept you too tired and busy to give time to makeup and skirts and a polished appearance. It feels kind of nice being all cute and attractive instead of frumpy and disheveled. ...you’re not going to change. You deserve to feel nice and you’re dying- desperate- to see how your professor will react to you looking nicer than the tired lump you usually display. Just act normal, you tell yourself as you head toward the class- clutching your textbooks tight to your chest. Don’t be too hopeful. Don’t be too excited. Don’t get disappointed. Just- just think of it as an experiment. That’s all it is, right? Just an experiment! You’re just putting a hypothesis to a test! (What a load of crap. It does help to calm your fluttering, nervous heart, though) You swallow as you approach the room and take a deep breath to steady yourself, bite your lip as you eye the open door. You can hear him rustling around and you know that the others will be around soon- you can’t just keep standing there like a dumbstruck, coltish fool. Another swallow, another deep breath. You walk into the room and fix a nervous smile on your face, chirp out a nearly stuttered “Good afternoon, Professor.” He’s faced away from you- broad back greeting your vision as he scrawls something across the blackboard. His head turns, though, and you get to hear an absent “good afternoon” replied back, you get to watch his gaze fall on you. His hand pauses. His snowy lashes blink once, twice, three times. Surprise flickers over his face- evident enough that you can catch it without doubt. His eyes flick down and back up so quickly that you almost miss it, dart away whenever your smile shrugs off its nervousness and grows ever so sweetly. You sit yourself down front and center- right in front of your sensei’s desk. He doesn’t look back at you as you organize your books and gear. He doesn’t look back at you as you primly cross your ankles and rest them to the side, drag a curious, studious gaze along his back. You had hoped for a response, but you hadn’t really expected it- Professor Natsuo has been kinder and more friendly and open than your other teachers, yes, but he’s still been professional. He’s never crossed any boundaries and you’ve never see him give another student the once over. This is...promising. Your cheeks stay flushed as the other students file in, but your anxiousness is gone away. Sure, that little look doesn’t really mean anything but now you’re...well. Now you’re curious. Desperate and needy for some validation of your silly little fantasies, but curious too. Could you...would he...? You wet your lips, unthinking, and keep your eyes on Doctor Natsuo throughout the class- analyzing his behavior, absorbing his words, taking in how his gaze finds you a bit more often than it usually does. Interesting. Encouraging. The next day you wear a skirt that’s a little bit shorter, don sweet mary janes and ankle socks decorated in lacy frills. Steel grey eyes dart to your legs more than once during the class and you even catch your professor tracing his eyes over your hips when he thinks you’re not looking- his reflection in the shining convex mirror hanging above your dissection table showing guilt, an almost nervous tilt to his lips. Oh, you’ve got him. But how do you proceed...? Your worries and frets and protests over taboo desires are long gone- they got dashed away with the first blink of his long lashes, with the first glance over he had given you. Really, you should feel ashamed over discarding your morals so easily, but it’s an exciting situation, isn’t it? It’s nothing you would ever think to find yourself in. But college is all about new, exciting situations, right? It’s about taking chances. God, you hope this is really a chance for you- you’ve never had the opportunity to play a coy game like this before. It’s...fun. High school would have been a lot more interesting if you had known this kind of thrill. You come home smiling ear to ear after a successful attempt at making Doctor Natsuo blush. (A sway of your hips, a flit of your slowly shortening skirts, a coo of his name as you thanked him for such an interesting lesson, a sweet smile and your fingers daring to skim ever so lightly and quickly over his wrist as you walked out of the classroom) The smile on your face has your roommate’s brow quirking, but one look at your outfit has her lips pulling into a smirk- something near gloating on her face. “You shooting your shot?” she asks, already knowing the answer. “Something like that.” You plop down on your bed, smile waning but still present- content as you let yourself get comfortable. She doesn’t offer any more conversation and you’re okay with that- mind fixating instead on how you could possibly further things with your sought after teacher. Things are good, for now- much better than you had ever thought they would be. The little forays into flirtation have been fun, exciting and they’ve even helped boost your confidence- something you hadn’t realized was sorely needed. It’s been fun. And it stays fun- the short skirts, the girly lilt you find yourself injecting into your voice, the soft makeup and sweet perfume, the way you always leave the class with wet panties and a vibrating exciting buzzing through you, the way your teacher’s eyes can’t help but dart over you, the way he breathes in just a bit deep when you get a little too close, the way he swallows whenever you so lightly purr his name- it all stays fun. Fun, but...frustrating. After a while it gets frustrating. Because he doesn’t do anything, not really. He stays a proper, good teacher- something you give props to him for- and he never returns your gentle flirtations, the subtle and silent invitations you push his way. He’s so...professional. It’s kind of a turn on- kind of. It’s mostly just...frustrating. You find your lips dipping into a pout more and more, find yourself sulky and downtrodden. Sure, this has been fun and interesting but you...you want more. You want him. You need him. You’ve needed him for so long it seems. You find your muffled ministrations in the shower getting more and more frantic- your fingers pumping into your cunt relentlessly but giving you none of the relief you seek. When you are able to cum, it’s always with a whimper of sensei or doctor or professor- sometimes even a daring Natsuo. You get restless and impatient, desperate and a little hopeless. If your teacher senses or sees that, he doesn’t say anything- in fact, his gaze seems to avert from the feverish look in your eyes, he seems to pull away from your bold, reckless attempts to get closer to him.  That hurts. That makes you angry. That makes you feel stupid. But he still wants you- or, at least, he still finds you tempting. You know he does- he can’t hide the way his eyes fall on you whenever you walk into the room, he can’t hide the quick glances he lays over you when he thinks no one else can see. You see his hesitance and want. You see it. ...if he’s not going to act on his desires, if he’s going to resist, then you’re going to kick things up a notch- someone has to; you can’t live with this stalemate any longer. It’s not a punishment, not really- it’s just throwing in his face what he’s missing out on. (My, whenever did you become so reckless and cruel? When did you become so desperate?) The ratio of boys to girls in the class is quite staggering- something one would think the university wouldn’t allow for fear of lawsuits. There are three boys for each girl- ambitious, studious, virginal, frantically horny things with expectations piled high on their shoulders and stress wracking their every thoughts. (It wouldn’t be unfair to say they you’re just like them- just sans the virginal part, double the stressed and horny part to make up for it) They’re good boys, for the most part- friendly and tired, nice but none of them quite to your taste or striking enough to jar your fixation from your sensei. Some of them are even handsome- which makes this a lot easier. “Oh, you brought me coffee? Thank you so much, Dai-chan! You’re so sweet!” The kiss you lay upon your classmate’s cheek makes him blush and fluster. It also makes your dear teacher stare- eyes wide and brow furrowed when you flick your gaze his way, his lips twitching as if he’s not sure if he wants to frown or not. The soft giggle you let out does bring a frown- something that deepens whenever one of the other boys comes over to grab your attention, try his hand. You should have thought of using them earlier on- they’ve been eager enough to try to flirt this whole time. Doctor Natsuo, for his part, doesn’t say or do anything- of course he doesn’t. But his usually happy temperament turns a bit tense, a little sour. He doesn’t lash out, not really, but you can see the way his teeth grit and his brow puckers whenever one of the boys dares to lay their hand on your arm, the small of your back. Good, you think- vicious and bitter, sour yourself. Get jealous. “What the fuck is up with Todoroki lately?” “Dude, did you hear how he snapped at Araka?” “Do you think something happened? He seems...stressed.” Your classmates trade hushed whispers as they flee the room, but you don’t think to join them- you stay quiet and soak in their quiet gossip, smile sharply without a look back to your grimacing, frustrated sensei. Just a little more. At this point, you’re not even sure what you want from him- an admittance of his own desires, him hurting and annoyed? You don’t know. You just want something to happen- you need something to break this little silent game apart. You think and think and think over what could raise the situation to the breaking point and, finally, you settle on something simple. The night before your Thursday class, you invite over one of your classmates- Eita; one of the more attractive ones, one of the less nervous ones. Your roommate is gracious enough to stay away (thanks to your offer of money for booze and weed and help with her homework) and you have the room all to yourself. Three beers and some easy flirtations, just a few small touches- that’s all it takes to get what you’re after. You don’t let him fuck you- he’s not worth it, nowhere near what you want- but you let him fumble his hands over you, are kind enough to wrap your hand around his cock while his lips frantically roam and suck over your neck. You don’t let him come until you’re absolutely sure that you have what you want. It reduces him to a whining mess- which, hey, is honestly kind of cute. You rebuff his sweet offers to “return the favor” and send him off with a kiss to the cheek, spend the rest of your night nursing a glass of wine and silently brooding- mind tired and body exhausted, your desires so restless. The next day you dress in a pleated, short skirt that just barely skims the middle of your thighs and fix your hair into a cute little updo, don your now signature mary janes and pull on a brand new pair of knee high socks. The sly comments you get throughout the day are annoying, but easily ignored. You’re impatient through the morning and it only gets worse as Doctor Natsuo’s class creeps closer. You spend the day jittering your leg and biting your lip, checking your phone every few moments and huffing to yourself, clutching at your arms and trying not to pace up and down the school’s halls. Finally- finally- it’s time for your favorite class. You have to force yourself to walk slowly toward it. You have to breathe in deep to quiet your pounding heart, to still your trembling hands. This has to spur something on. You walk into the classroom- skirt swaying, lips hiding your anticipation behind a smile. You ignore Professor Natsuo and make your way to Eita’s desk, plant your elbows on it and rest your chin in your hand, arch your hips up so your teacher can be teased by the sight of your soft thighs and curves, taunted by how just an inch or two of fabric prevents your panties from being flashed. (Is he looking? He has to be looking. He better be looking.) “Eita-kun,” you coo, sweet and loud enough for others to hear, “I had such a good time last night. We should do it again.” Eita’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush. You might enjoy it if you weren’t so distracted by the noise of a coffee cup slamming down and clattering on the desk behind you, if your breathing didn’t hitch so sharply at the fault in your sensei’s composure. Slowly, you straighten yourself to standing and turn around. Professor Natsuo’s face is red and flustered- jealous- when you look and his eyes are narrowed at you, his coffee spilled on the desk. You offer him a sweet blink and a sweeter smile, tilt your head so he can see the blossomed bruise tinting your throat pewter and mauve, a stormy and swirling blue. His eyes widen, his gaze darts behind you. Your smile grows. How do you like that, sensei? Your hands tremble just a little- from nerves, from excitement, from aching anticipation- and you clasp them behind your back to hide them from his gaze, lean forward and peer over his desk. “Are you okay, sir?” you ask him- chirping and so very sweet. “Do you need help cleaning that up?” He stares at you- disbelieving and still so evident in his shock, his envy. Some strangled noise chokes its way up and out of his throat whenever you flutter your lashes his way and smug amusement gathers in you as you watch his jaw tighten, his teeth grit as he tries to gather his composure once more. “No. Sit.” Oh. You’ve never heard him sound like that before. So authoritative, so stern. So hot. It’s your turn to let out a noise- something soft and almost curious, accompanied by flushed cheeks. You obey your teacher and sit down without a fuss- thighs pressing together and already growing damp, lip bitten and eyes half-shut as you watch him silently clean up the coffee. He doesn’t look at you throughout the whole lesson. He doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t call on you. He doesn’t smile or laugh or joke around. He’s...cold throughout the class- words iced over and posture rigid, his face holding no warmth at all. You gulp as you listen to him lecture and squirm in your seat- nerves starting to gather and grow despite the way you’re still so very wet between your thighs. You had wanted something to happen. You were determined to force anything to happen. But maybe- maybe you miscalculated. Maybe you fucked up. It’s something of a relief when the class ends. Usually, you like to linger for a few moments, like to stay just a bit longer than necessary so you can grab your teacher’s attention with a question or some sort of compliment over the lesson. Today, though? Today you shoot up from your seat without delay, begin to gather all your supplies as quickly as you can. At least...at least until he says your name. It’s firm, just a little icy. You stiffen at the sound and gulp, look back at him with wide eyes and a nervous smile. Before hearing your name part from your teacher’s lips would send you flying high, but right now...right now your skin is tingling with a giddy apprehension, your fingertips are trembling as you search his face for any hint of what’s to come. “I need to have a word with you,” Doctor Natsuo tells you- eyes boring into yours and keeping you frozen where you stand. “I, um,” you try to weakly protest, “I have to get to my next class...” “It won’t take long.” If he catches your wince, he doesn’t react to it. Professor Natsuo simply leans against his desk as the rest of the students file out- arms folded over his chest, sleeves rolled up to display thick forearms. And you? You stay rooted to the spot- heart pounding and eyes still wide, cheeks flushed and thighs damp. When the last student leaves, Professor Natsuo walks over to the door and closes it shut. Click. W-Wait- did he just- “D-Doctor Natsuo?” you squeak out. “What are you- what are you doing?” “I think I should be asking that question.” Oh, shit. Your teacher turns around slowly and the look he gives you takes your breath away. He looks angry and frustrated. He looks pissed. Pissed, but there’s- there’s something more- there’s- “What-” He takes a step toward you, you take a step back. “- do you think you’re doing, young lady?” The whimper that leaves you is equal parts anxious and needy- soft and unwanted. You probably shouldn’t find the growl in his words so hot. Your knees probably shouldn’t knock together and your pussy shouldn’t throb at the snap of young lady. But it’s- you didn’t expect him to be like this. But you- it’s- A tremble wracks through you and Professor Natsuo takes another step toward you. You bump against his desk whenever you stumble back and flinch at the wood that slams into your lower back, gasp and whimper once more when big hands fall to the table on both your sides, when your teacher brackets your trembling form and keeps you enclosed and captive. His eyes are narrowed. His cheeks are flushed. His cologne smells so nice up close, his height has your lashes fluttering and your breathing shuddering as you’re forced to tilt your head back to look up at him with wide eyes. “S- Sir?” “Don’t sir me,” he snaps, crowding closer to you. “I’ve lost my patience with you playing coy.” He’s lost his patience? Your mouth opens to shoot off something probably very stupid, but the words die as a big, cool hand finds your throat and forces your head to a tilt. The touch is beyond expected, has you crying out softly and gripping onto his shirt, almost hyperventilating. The pin prick retraction of your pupils is dramatic and so is your whimpering exhales but, god, this is not what you had expected. “You’ve been toying with me for weeks now,” Doctor Natsuo growls out, his fingers digging into the hickey on your neck. “All your short skirts and little touches, your shameless flirtations- you’ve been trying to drive me mad, haven’t you?” “Pr- Professor,” you whimper out, thighs rubbing together and a moan threatening to sound. “I just- I just wanted-” “You just wanted some attention,” he huffs out- his other hand gripping at your waist and his knee knocking your legs apart. “You wanted to see what would break me, right? That’s why you came in flaunting this today.” Your teacher’s thigh slots between yours and his fingers push deeper into your bruised flesh, his stormy eyes narrow and take in the way you shudder, how your cheeks flush even darker and your eyes start to turn just a bit glossy. A mewl leaves you- embarrassing and so needy, so helpless- and you whine softly after, try to turn your head away so he can’t see the way all your bravado and confidence is melting away into your selfish, needy, hopeless desires. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he demands- forcing your face back to him. He doesn’t look angry now- just frustrated- and your stuttered little gasp only makes his teeth grit, the way your thighs squeeze his makes his breath in sharp and deep. “Go on- tell me.” You- you can’t. You can’t deny him, can’t lie. Not now that things have finally boiled over, not now that he’s finally confronting you. Not now that you’re about to come just from the feeling of his thigh pressing against your soaked cunt. Not now that you’re so close to moaning and falling into a pleading, begging thing. “I- I had to,” you whine. “You weren’t- you wouldn’t-” “Tch.” The grip on your neck tightens and leaves you whimpering, leaves your fingers curling even tighter into your teacher’s shirt. “I was trying to be a good teacher,” Professor Natsuo grits out. “I was trying to keep from taking advantage of you.” Take advantage of you? You would laugh if it weren’t for your wettening lashes, the way your hips are aching and tightening from trying not to grind over your sensei’s thigh. “Sensei-” “Did you fuck him?” he interrupts- fingers dragging over your hickey and hand gripping your hip tighter, pulling you closer and making you whimper, tremble as your cunt is made to glide over his leg. “Don’t tell me after all this time you settled for a boy like that?” You shake your head the best you can- almost frantic with it, flushed and vaguely angry he would even insinuate that you would hook up with someone after you’ve put in so much effort toward him. “N- No! I wanted- I didn’t want- didn’t want him,” you whine, hips jerking despite yourself, a mewl leaving you whenever your teacher’s breath catches. “Sensei, please-” “Fuck.” The groan that leaves him has your lashes fluttering, your lips parting with a soft whine. The hand on your neck moves to your scalp and buries thick fingers in your hair, messes up your updo and sends your hairtie flying. He ignores the protesting noise that leaves you and looks down at you instead- eyes dark with a need that mirrors your own, nostrils flaring as his breathing turns heavy. “You are so naughty,” Doctor Natsuo growls- one hand curling his fingers into your hair, the other smoothing down your waist and to your spread legs. “Filthy little thing.” Filthy? You’re not- you’re not- The hand at your waist moves to loosen his tie and you whimper when he pops open his top button, when he shifts his hips forward and you feel his cock hard on your thigh. “Pl- please, sensei,” you breathe out in a beg- unplanned and so thoughtless, even overwhelmed. “I- I’ll be good! I won’t tell! I just want- I need-” You cut yourself off with a whine and rock against his thigh, look up at him with your wet lashes and flushed cheeks. He groans whenever you whimper and you clutch at him tighter, try to press against him. “I need you, sensei,” you plead- so soft and so desperate. “I need you. I- I promise I’ll be good. I just- I just-” You whimper once more and he groans, grips your waist and sits you on the table rough enough to make all his pens rattle and shake. He slots himself between your spread legs and buries his fingers back into your hair, presses his mouth against yours so fast and hard that it makes your whole world screech to a screaming halt. Your eyes widen and then slam shut, your body goes limp as you whimper and tremble from the way his tongue traces over your bottom lip. You allow your mouth to open and your teacher groans over it, slips his tongue inside and forces you to bend back as he presses closer toward you. Whenever he pulls his head back from yours, there’s a glistening of spit on his lips, a flush to his cheeks. You squirm under his gaze- suddenly so shy, suddenly so flustered- and whine as he stares down at you, arch your back and gasp whenever he forces your head to the side once more and presses his lips to your throat. It hurts when his teeth dig into the already tender, bruised flesh but it sends your mind reeling, has you mewling and reaching to scratch at his back. “Y- Yes! Please! Cover it! Make that mark yours!” The words fly out fast and without any thought, the begging comes from a place you didn’t realize existed within you. You don’t even realize that you mewled such a thing out until your teacher is groaning against your neck, until he’s muttering a, “Fuck- that’s a good girl” right against your throat. If you weren’t so swept up in the situation, you might feel embarrassed. But, you’re not- you’re just gasping and flushed and made even more needy from the praise, from the way your sensei’s hands drag down your sides to grip your waist. Tears blur your vision and a stuttered breath has you shaking, your nails digging deep into soft fabric and clawing over a broad back. “Doctor Natsuo please!” Another groan from your teacher and his hand slips under your skirt, his fingers push your soaked panties to the side and dip into your sopping cunt. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he growls, curling two thick digits and making you cry out. “Hey- shh, shh. Be good. You promised you were going to be good.” Be good? Oh, fuck, you wanna be good. You bite your lip as your teacher fucks his fingers deep inside you and try so, so, so hard to stay nice and quiet and good. He watches you as you try to muffle your whimper behind your hand and you shake from the way he licks his lips, from the way his lashes lower and his gaze turns approving. “That’s it, baby,” he mumbles. “Good girl. Fuck- turn over.” Professor Natsuo backs away and you can’t quite bite back your whine whenever his fingers leave, can’t quite inject any gracefulness in the way you scramble to comply. He yanks you back whenever you’re on your stomach- has your knees knocking against his desk and your hips arching up. There’s no warning when he grabs the plush flesh of your ass and spreads your cheeks wide. Your face flushes and a soft noise leaves you, your thighs press together as you squirm and whimper. “Cute,” he murmurs, squeezing your butt roughly.  “Even better than I imagined.” Imagined? Oh- oh. He- he thought of you. He fantasized about you. Sensei- sensei got off to you. Your cunny clenches and your teacher groans- low and deep and accompanied by the sound of a zipper being pulled down. When you look back over your shoulder at him, his fingers are undoing his tie and you’re left blinking in confusion as he wraps each end around his palms. “Professor...?” “Open your mouth.” You do so without hesitation- lips falling open and fingers curling against the wood of the desk. Professor Natsuo slips his tie between your lips and you whine as it digs into your cheeks, shudder whenever he gives it a tight tug. “Now be a good student for your sensei,” he instructs, gathering the tie in one hand and pulling out his cock with the other. “Quiet and good.” You nod the best you can, but it’s a promise you can’t quite keep whenever his cock nestles between your cunt’s lips, whenever the tip eases into your hole and then slams fully in. You cry out- spit wetting your teacher’s silk tie and his hand laying heavy across your ass, your head getting yanked back whenever he jerks on the tie. “What did I say?” He said- he said to be quiet and good. You have to be quiet and good. A muffled whimper leaves you and you rock your hips back, squeeze around your sensei’s cock with the softest little whine. He groans and his hips pap against you, his dick drives in deep enough to have your toes curling and your lashes fluttering. He’s- he’s big. Bigger than you thought he’d be. Bigger than you dared to imagine. The stretch is- it’s so much. But you’re so wet. You’re so needy. Tiny, strangled whimpers leave you as your professor falls into a rhythm and you shudder, do your best to fuck your hips back against him. That stops whenever he grips your waist with a grunt and you whine softly, still and let your teacher fuck you how he pleases. You take it and you love it, get pushed close to orgasm faster than ever before. You almost collapse when you come on his cock and you hiccup out a whine of pleasure, a muffled mewl of his name. Doctor Natsuo groans as your gummy insides spasm around him and his grip becomes bruising, his rocks get faster- harder. Feels so good! Feels so good! Sensei’s dick feels so good! “Shen- shensay!” “Oh, fuck- god- you’re so tight, baby. Good girl- you like sensei’s cock deep inside you? Is this what you wanted?” You whimper and nod- cheek scrubbing against the desk, cunt gripping his cock like a vice. He grunts and grabs onto your hips, forces your head up and back as the tie drags you and forces your back to arch in a tight, painful angle. Still feels good, though. Still feels like everything you wanted. You want- need- so much more. “Shoulda done this sooner,” your teacher groans out. “Shoulda- fuck!” He slams in you deep enough to have your eyes rolling back, hard enough to have your whole body shaking and your nails clawing across his desk. “C’mon, c’mon- take it- take it! Sensei is- Sensei is gonna fill you up- gonna give that needy cunt what it needs!” He’s gonna- he’s gonna- oh, god! Doctor Natsuo fucks into you faster and faster- the movements jarring you against the desk and making it rock, the jab of his cock rushing you to the height of pleasure again. You cry out as he slams into you- the tie falling from your lips as he drops it and forces you back onto the desk, slides his arms under you and grips your shoulders, fucks into you rough and deep and so, so perfectly. Warmth floods inside your pussy and you whimper as you’re filled with your sensei’s seed, twitch and come on his cock again- lashes fluttering and teeth digging into your lip to muffle your whine, honeyed insides milking his dick as if you need more. You do need more- you do. How could you have ever imagined one time would be enough to satisfy your fantasies? Your teacher pants and grinds into you- hot breath fanning over your cheek and his cock sliding out with a wet pop whenever he draws his hips back. You whimper at the loss but mewl when his fingers draw up your slit, slide back and down onto your knees as exhaustion slips over you. Fuck...fuck, did that just happen? A touch to your cheek has you looking up and you blink hazily at your sensei’s flushed cheeks, the shining and wet cock that he stuffs inside his trousers. “Satisfied?” he asks, slightly breathless and a groan hiding in his voice. “Going to be a good girl now? No more teasing sensei?” You nod, not quite thinking over the action or processing the words, only close your eyes when the slightest smile flits across his lips, when his fingers brush over your cheek and his gaze goes heavy lidded. “Sensei...” His fingers glance over your jawline and down low, stroke over your new hickey and bring a mewl. With your eyes closed, you can’t see the way his expression ripples with something hesitant and something curious, something...greedy. Strong hands help you up from the floor and you shudder as your legs tremble, press against his chest and look up at him with heavy eyes, a yearning that you can’t quite hide. He strokes your hair and it’s...nice. Unexpected from the way he reacted before, so very welcome. “...I was harsh with you.” The apologetic tone is also unexpected. Your professor seems to almost fluster, hesitates as he strokes your hair again and allows his grey gaze to look over your flushed cheeks and parted lips, the desire that you can’t quite hide. “...you were a good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead and making you flush even more. “...you gonna keep being good? Not tell?” Of course you’re not going to tell. Of course you’re not going to risk this. You nod without any hesitation and you’re graced with a smile, another kiss that has you wanting to melt against him. “Then in that case...” You blink and watch as he breathes in deep, tilt your head as your heart begins to flutter in your chest. “Come over tonight. I can give you what you want properly.” He wants...he wants you to come over? He wants to fuck you again? You could swear it’s almost a smirk that forms on his face whenever your eyes widen and your breath catches. “I- I...yes, please.” He hums and he steps away- leaving you to stumble slightly and look at him in wonder, an unending adoration that you had pretended wasn’t underneath all your lust for him. “Good. But for now...” Sensei takes a deep breath and then he smiles at you- this time a bit wry, a little amused. “You’re going to be late for your next class.” Next class? Oh- oh shit! A squeak escapes you and you hurry to gather up all your stuff, shove your books in your arms and race toward the door. “Hey.” You freeze as you grab onto the doorknob and nearly tumble into it, look back toward your sensei. “I want you to call me Natsuo when we’re alone.” He- he what? Oh. Oh. You open your mouth, but the trilling of the bell cuts you off and you’re left only with the time to nod and flush, mumble out a soft, “Yes, sir” before you have to rush out the room. You head toward your next class with weak legs and cheeks red from where your sensei’s tie pulled deep into your skin, hair a mess and your teacher’s- Natsuo’s- cum dripping down your thighs. You smile as you rush off to your next class- happy and fucked, eager to see what Natsuo has in store for you later that night.

[rafescoke]

Crime ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Part #1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader would do anything for the boy she loves from a summer ago.

Warnings: Story takes place at the start of season 2 (and some flashbacks from season 1), swearing, angst, death penalty, gaslighting, reader just needing help

A/N: i don’t think this is my best work at all :( but i’ll post the part 2 straight away!! didn’t know tumblr has a word limit now wtf

p.s; tell me what do you think of this fic!!

(Y/N) had begged for somewhere else to spend the Summer. She couldn’t go back to that place, not when there were too many memories that awaited her. No one seemed to listen to her, and her father continued to check something online.

“Rafe Cameron.”

“(Y/N),” she had smiled, and she thought about how gorgeous a boy could be. This man before her; with his hair messily parted and that goddamn blue eyes had her holding her breath, and she wasn’t in her usual demeanour.

“You come down here often?” Rafe asked, raising his eyebrows. (Y/N) watched as he chugged on his beer, and gave her another sly smile again.

“Um, not really. This is my first summer here.”

“That’s nice,” he shrugged, “Welcome to Obx.”

“Thanks,” she nodded, liking how Obx already is. She made a mental note to tell her friends back home about this island, and most importantly; Rafe Cameron.

“Do you wanna take a walk?”

(Y/N) never really accepted any boy’s invitation for a walk, because all the boys in the city never had good intentions with her. She never dated anyone, never bothered to do so.

“Sure,” she smiled, and walked alongside the dirty-blonde boy to the far end of the beach. He sucked in a breath, glancing at her from the corners of his eyes, and laughed.

“You look nervous.”

“You could be a mass murderer.”

“Isn’t that just the perfect person to spend the summer with?”

(Y/N) looked up at him, the moonlight from the sky illuminating his features. God, he really is beautiful. “I guess.”

“So would that be a problem if I killed someone before?”

(Y/N) laughed easily at the joke, bumping her arms against his. She felt a jolt from the touch, and swallowed her saliva. “No.”

Rafe chuckled, “Yeah. That’s more like it.”

(Y/N) had thought of that moment as nothing but a joke. A playful joke, meaning to flirt with her. The next few weeks were spent with only them two, sometimes in his house or (Y/N)’s stay. They were inseparable; always attached by the hips morning and night, and (Y/N) knew about all of his problems.

“Try it.”

“What? Coke?” She asked, bewildered. She looked down to the table, her hands fidgeting, and she quickly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked up to Rafe again, “I don’t know how.”

“Come on, I’ll show you,” he smiled, pulling her by her wrist and seated her beside him. She felt the jolt again, but she had gotten better at ignoring it.

Rafe lowered his hand, a finger placed on his left nostril, and snorted the line of white powder. He grunted, throwing his head back, and after a few seconds, he gave her a smirk.

“Your turn.”

(Y/N) smiled back, reaching for the rolled up bill before lowering his head to the last line. She took a deep breath, still so shaky, and snorted the powder before she could change her mind.

Her heartbeat quickened, and her mind was all over the place. She could feel her forehead getting clammy, and before she could do anything, Rafe cupped her face in his large hands.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he expressed, looking straight into her eyes. (Y/N) didn’t realise she was starting to cry, and stared back into his eyes.

“You’re so pretty,” he said suddenly, rubbing comforting circles on her temples. (Y/N) relaxed under his touch, “Such a pretty girl.”

“I thought you’re friends with that Cameron boy,” her father suddenly said, shaking her out of her memories. (Y/N) closed her eyes, trying to push away the thoughts, and gave her father a grimace.

“So? I don’t want to see him.”

“What happened between you two? You used to ask me to move to Obx,” her father laughed, still clicking on the mouse to the laptop.

“People change, dad,” she muttered, and made her way back to her bedroom to be alone with her thoughts.

“Rafe! You don’t have to do this,” (Y/N) gasped, her hands around her mouth. She looked around the gazebo by the lake, her eyes brightening against the beautiful fairy lights and veins decorating the railings.

“It’s your last week here,” he shrugged, helping her to her seat before sitting for himself. He pointed to the food displayed before then, “Steak. Your favourite.”

“You are amazing,” she expressed, her eyes suddenly glassy. The lake never looked so calming, and (Y/N) wished she could capture this exact moment in her head.

“Just thought you should see the other side of Rafe Cameron,” he shrugged, his lips forming into a smile. “I’m glad you came down here to Obx.”

“Me too,” she breathed, and went for the food. “I’m so glad to have met you.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, cutting his steak into small pieces before biting into one. “Didn’t you called me a mass murderer the first time we met?”

“It was a joke,” she rolled her eyes, “But I’ll still like you even if you are.”

She didn’t know the truth behind her words.

“You will?” He looked up to her, grinning. “And just like?”

“Just like. What are you playing at, Rafe?” She faked groan, putting her cutleries down and clasping her hand together. “What? You’re going to propose to me or something?”

Everything happened so fast; Rafe chuckled, awkwardly running his fingers through his fair, messing with his slicked back hair. She liked this messy hair better, but she liked anything about Rafe Cameron, messy hair or not.

“No.”

Rafe held out the tiny velvet box in his hands, and (Y/N) never saw a prettier smile than his.

“No,” she repeated, her breathing heavy. She was too shocked by this, only meaning the proposal part of her speech as a joke, and looked into his sincere eyes again.

“I’m not proposing to you,” he laughed, getting down to one knee and opening the box to a beautiful diamond ring. (Y/N) sucked in a breath, mesmerised. “I will though, in the future.”

“Oh my god, Rafe, I can’t accept this,” she gasped, watching as the diamond glinted under the bright light. “You’re too much.”

“It’s a promise ring,” he smiled, “And a proposal to ask you to become my girlfriend.”

He sucked in a breath, and (Y/N) swore her heart stopped. She never thought of herself worthy as these kind of moments, but here she was; all teary eyed, her hand against her heart to calm her crazy heartbeat.

“Will you be my girlfriend, (Y/N)?”

She laughed, wiping the tears that had rolled down to her cheeks, and cupped his face into her hands. “You’re so fucking dumb. Of course I will, asshole, without this whole dinner thing. You could ask me while we’re in the swimming pool and I’ll say yes.”

Rafe laughed, melting into her hands, before taking out the ring he had saved up for (by not buying anymore coke) and asking for her permission to slide it over her ring finger.

(Y/N) nodded, holding her breath, and the diamond ring slid to her finger, and she gasped at how pretty it looked. She wondered about how much it had cost Rafe to buy the ring for her, but pushed the thought away when Rafe tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“We haven’t even kissed yet.”

(Y/N) laughed, “I told you you’re too fast, Rafe.”

Rafe smiled, inching closer to her, and (Y/N) just instantly stopped thinking. He was so beautiful, so angelic, and she wished she could stay at Obx forever.

“I love you, (Y/L/N).”

“Rafe,” she expressed, placing her forehead against his, “I love you too, okay?”

(Y/N) groaned, deepening her face against the soft pillow. She felt like screaming, but she didn’t have the energy to do so.

She would do anything for Rafe, and the next few days after that proposal went too fast that she felt like God was being unfair to her. He made her feel so good, and no one had made her feel the way he made her feel.

She felt like she was in heaven.

Until that one, certain Friday; the day before she went back to New York.

“Rafe, please,” she cried, pulling him by shirt as he pointed the gun at the sheriff, his eyes flaring up in anger. “Rafe, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

She looked at Ward, who looked afraid as well, and sucked in a breath. “You told me-”

“Shut up!” He grunted, his own fingers trembling on the trigger. “Fuck! Shut up.”

She didn’t know what to do. Sarah was looking at her for help, but she had tried her best to console him. She tried to reach for him again, to which he quickly pushed her away.

“Do that again, and I’ll kill you next.”

“Rafe-”

“Shut up!” He yelled again, and before she could do anything the pulled on the trigger, and the sheriff fell to the ground with widened eyes.

“Hey.”

(Y/N) jolted from her position at the knock, and groaned when her mother came in. She scooted away, giving her some space on the bed, and laid with her face planted against the pillow again.

“You never told us about what happened with you and Rafe,” she sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“Okay, so why don’t you want to go to Obx for the summer?”

“I want new boyfriends.”

Her mother laughed, “Okay. Then find new boyfriends in Obx. The blonde boy who helped us carry our bags the first time we arrived there can be one.”

“JJ?”

“He’s always around the island too, helping people for money,” she shrugged, “That’s a good kid. Doing honest work for honest money.”

“I’m not actually looking for a boyfriend, mom,” she rolled her eyes. “It was a figure of speech.”

“Well,” she stood up, “You better be looking for one. We’re spending the summer in Obx, and that’s final.”

. . .

(Y/N) rubbed her eyes against the glowing sunlight of North Carolina, her body screaming with pain from hours of sitting in the same position. She heard the pilot said something, her mind still woozy from only being caffeinated, and placed her head against the seat again.

“It’s a bright day, like it’s waiting for us,” her mother exclaimed, fixing her sunglasses before walking down the stairs to the road. (Y/N) groaned, still so tired, and she wished for nothing but to stay in her room with Netflix to watch.

“Hey, Mr (Y/L/N),” JJ smiled, and (Y/N) noticed the fake exterior he was trying to portray. “Come down here for another summer again?”

Her mother, who admired JJ’s ‘honest work’ gushed out to beside him, asking about his school and his works. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, not interested in making any new conversation, and she looked back at the area where the incident took place.

JJ caught her looking, and when her parents and the little brother had entered the car, he went to her to help her with her bags.

He crouched down, wrapping his fingers around the handle, and quickly whispered. “You saw, right?”

“Huh?”

“What Rafe did.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, and went into the car before he could say anything else.

God. Just how she expected her first moments after arriving in Obx.

“Hey! Welcome back!”

“You called the Camerons?” She groaned, looking at her father for some kind of useless explanation. After the brief conversation with JJ, she wanted nothing that could remind her of Rafe and hoped she could stay in her room for the whole 2 months.

“(Y/N), wait-”

She barged into her room for 2 months, noticing the old posters she had put up the year before, and thought about how happy she was at that time. She felt nothing now, and she couldn’t wait until the end of summer.

“Fuck!” She yelled, her head feeling so light, and placed herself before the naked bed. She sighed, trying to calm herself down, and thought of the ways to ignore the certain boy a few miles away.

Maybe he’s in college.

Maybe he’s going to leave her alone.

Maybe he has found someone new.

She felt a tug at the thought of the last sentence, and she couldn’t explain why she would even be devastated over him finding a new girl. That’s good, she guessed, at least she doesn’t have to think about staying away from him again.

Maybe she should spend her time with the pogues; JJ’s friends. They looked fun to hang with.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“I’m not in the mood,” she grunted, shielding her eyes from the sunlight. “What do you want?”

“Can we go to the beach?”

“The beach?” She huffed, “We just arrived. Shouldn’t you clean your room or something?”

“Okay. But can you bring me to the beach after I’m done?”

“I’ll think about it,” she expressed, but after a few hours of sweeping and mopping the dusty room, placing the new bedsheet over the mattress and taking down her old posters, all she wanted to do was get out for some fresh air. She had slept most of her time in the plane so she wasn’t feeling like taking a nap at all, and she guessed it would be appropriate to bring her little brother to the beach.

She walked to her room, her hands around her waist. “Hey, you’re- where the fuck did you get that?”

“What?” He asked, raising the frame with his sister’s arms around Rafe, smiling happily at the camera. “This? Isn’t he your boyfriend?”

“Throw that away!” she yelled, “I said throw that away!”

“Okay, okay,” he groaned, throwing the frame into the big plastic bag before dusting the dust off of him. “Can we go to the beach now?”

“You’re an asshole, do you know that?” She huffed, watching as he changed into his swimming shorts, “And we’ve been cleaning for 3 hours. You’re not half done yet.”

“Whatever,” he said, and closed the door. “Just wait for me downstairs.”

The ride to the beach didn’t take long, and (Y/N) actually felt peaceful riding the bicycle and letting the breeze hit her square on the face. She had laughed at a stupid joke by her little brother, and she thought about how she could do this for the next 2 months.

“I wanna learn how to surf,” he said, letting the water soaked his feet and dumped his feet into the sand. “Do you?”

“You’ll forget how to when we’re back in New York,” she mumbled, gazing at the sky, “Also your body’s too weak to fight the waves.”

“No, it’s not,” he argued, “What are you going to do for the summer, (Y/N)? Are you going to be with that-”

“No,” she quickly said, curling her toes at the feeling of the water soaking her feet. “I’m not going to be with anyone.”

“Isn’t that your friend?”

“Ha-ha, nice joke,” she laughed falsely, still closing her eyes against the bright sky. “Who’s the friend? Is it Rafe?”

“Hey.”

(Y/N) sat up straight, her heart beating wildly, and what greeted her sight sent shivers down to her spine, and she quickly clutched onto her little brother’s wrist before pulling him away.

“Ow! What are you doing? (Y/N), let me go!” Lucas groaned, looking back at the boy who wanted nothing but to talk to his sister. “Rafe, help!”

“Shut up, you bitch,” she groaned, still pulling on his wrist. She knew about the possibility of leaving a claw mark on his skin, but she wanted nothing to do with the boy.

“Help me, Rafe! She’s going to kill me!”

“I said shut up!” She yelled, her chest heaving now, and she didn’t care about her hair that was hanging loosely from her hairclaw.

She didn’t know if Rafe was chasing after her, and she didn’t dare to look back.

“Ride your bike home,” she fumbled with the handle, “Now. Please, now!”

“Okay,” Lucas groaned, “What’s wrong with you? It’s just Rafe.”

“Go!” She yelled, already set to cycle back home, with her clothes all wet and sticking against her skin. She couldn’t breathe, and she hated the sight of him. She cycled back home hurriedly, tears streaming down her face, and she wished she had stayed home.

The night after the day on the beach she didn’t bother to come down for dinner, only staying in her room and browsing through Netflix. She didn’t feel like doing anything, and she hated how quick her mood was ruined.

She didn’t think about seeing him that quickly, especially after just arriving on the island that morning. This was exactly the problem; she couldn’t face him, not after what he did, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn him to the authorities. She was pushing him away, but at the same time protecting him.

The next morning, she felt shittier than ever. Being in the small island, where everywhere she goes could remind her back to Rafe, she decided to stay in bed and browse through more movies, only going downstairs for a glass of water before going back to her room. She was glad Lucas and her parents were enjoying most of their time here in Obx, and she would do the same if it weren’t for what happened last year.

She was scared. She was mad at herself too, because she couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone about what she saw. As much as she hated him now, a part of her still loved him.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

“Get the fuck away from me!” She yelled, her eyes red and her cheeks wet. “You’re a fucking psycho.”

“No, no, baby, please-”

“Don’t call me baby, I swear to fucking god!” She yelled again, getting into the car and watched as Rafe desperately banged against the car window, pleading for her to hear him.

“It’s not what you think-”

(Y/N) cried, her head painful, and slowly slid the diamond ring from her finger before lowering the window by a slit and throwing it outside. Rafe watched the ring roll away but didn’t care to fetch it, only trying to speak to her through the tiny slit.

“I had to do it, please,” he begged, “Please. Baby. I can’t do this-”

“Go to hell,” she hissed, and sped away.

That was the last time she had ever seen Rafe, and she knew he tried to contact her with different phone numbers every day, but she had blocked every single number. The trouble stopped after a while, and (Y/N) realised how much she had been missing him.

Who could she confront about this?

Who could she tell?

She couldn’t. She loved him too much.

A week after settling in their summer home, (Y/N) was tired of all the screaming and nudging by her mother for her to get out of the house, and ‘get a life’. She didn’t feel like having a whole summer of just hanging out at the beach, not when the last time she had went there and bumped onto Rafe, so she decided to keep her distance off Figure 8 and made her way to the other side of the island.

She had only been there twice with Rafe before, to pick up something at Barry’s (he told her not to worry about it), so she never really quite get used to the road around here.

She stopped the jeep by the side of the road, glancing at the signboard and the road behind her. Did she go too far? Or was this just the wrong way?

She rested her back against the car door, already tired, and decided to just wait until she was good enough to drive home.

It was half an hour later when she heard the roaring of a motorcycle, and she quickly got to her feet, her chest suddenly heaving.

“Yo? You’re okay?”

“Huh?” She fixed her hair, “Um- yeah. Just resting.”

JJ nodded, “You should turn off your engine. You don’t want to-”

Just right on cue, the engine stopped completely and (Y/N) groaned, getting into the car to turn the engine again. It made some noise, until silence fell between them.

“That’s what I’m saying,” JJ said, “Where are you heading to?”

“Oh, nowhere in particular,” she sighed, getting out of the jeep and shutting the door angrily. Good. Just like how she wanted her day to be.

“Let me send you back home,” he offered, pointing to the black ride behind the jeep. She shook her head, her mouth forming into a tight smile.

“That’s alright, I can-”

“Walk back home? Come on, you’re far from Figure 8, and you’re 50 minutes away from The Cut on foot.”

She didn’t exactly wish for this, but it would help.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, helping her up to the motorcycle and placing her hands on his shoulders for some balance.

“You’ve never ridden a bike before?” JJ asked, half-amused. “No, no, because you look nervous.”

“I’ve just never ridden a bike with you driving,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Can you send me to the taxi stop or anything?”

“Really? Why can’t I just drive you home?”

She groaned, “Just send me to the taxi port, Maybank.”

He laughed, putting his helmet on, and (Y/N) placed her hands against her ears at the loud sound of the engine.

(Y/N) hate to admit it; but the ride to The Cut was the most thrilling thing that she had ever felt in months. She felt a smile slowly forming onto her face, and JJ swore he could see it too from the side mirror, and when they finally stopped at the taxi port, she was so happy she felt like buying a bike for herself.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said. “Minus one point for no helmet.”

“I didn’t know I would see you laying by the side of the road,” he rolled his eyes, a hint of teasing in his tone. “But where’s the fun when you’re all safe?”

She hummed in response, “I’ll see you around then.”

“So you’re just going to get an expensive ride back to Figure 8? Why wouldn’t you let me send you off?”

She knew exactly why, but she didn’t want to admit it. She was scared of Rafe seeing her on JJ’s bike, knowing that he’s not on good terms with the pogues, and the last thing she had ever wanted was to make him feel like he was being replaced.

“Don’t trouble yourself too much, JJ,” she sighed. “Besides, you can see me for the next 2 months everyday if that’s what you want.”

He grinned, “Good offer. Will think about that soon.”

(Y/N) laughed, tilting her head to one side before making a move to reach for her phone. JJ watched as she filled in her passcode, went straight to Contacts, and handed him the phone.

“What’s this?”

“Oh god, you’re annoying,” she rolled her eyes. “Put in your McDonald’s order.”

JJ laughed again, his fingers sliding over her phone screen easily to fill in his number, and he handed her the phone back after saving his name as ‘Handsome pogue’.

“I’ll see you around, (Y/L/N).”

(Y/N) smiled, this time sincerely, and she thought about the possibility of spending her summer in The Cut with JJ where she knew there would be no troubles awaiting her.

It was safe to say that JJ and (Y/N) were inseparable after spending so much time together the next few weeks. Everywhere JJ goes, (Y/N) would be there with him, either by helping him with his work in the restaurant or running for groceries to deliver with him. She liked it with him; he took her mind off Rafe, and that was everything that she needed.

JJ knew about the girl’s relationship with Rafe last year, but he was careful not to cross the invisible line. He was gentle with her, always studying her reactions at certain places (he was sure Rafe had taken her to those places before) and in return, she knew everything about him.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” she bit her lips, letting the water soaked her jeans as they laid on the sand, gazing at the view. She felt sorry for the blonde boy after knowing the truth about his father, and wished she could help him in any way.

“That’s okay,” he replied. “Hey, I’m bringing you to meet my friends. Would you like that?”

“Your friends?” She raised her brows, “Like Kiera and Pope?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, “Would you like to meet them?”

(Y/N) thoughts went back to the many times Rafe had told her about the pogues, but she always saw them as a tight group of friends who always had each other’s backs. She never had that kind of friendship before, especially living in New York where almost everyone is fake, and sometimes wished she could have something like that.

“Okay, yeah,” she nodded, “Would they like me?”

“You’re kidding? You’re amazing!” JJ gushed out, throwing his arms onto the air before slapping the water, resulting in a splash across her face.

She gasped, “Fuck, you’re fucking dead.”

“No, no, I don’t mean it-”

The conversation turned into a water fight, their screams filling the air and attracting everyone’s attention, but (Y/N) didn’t care. She was enjoying the moment, with JJ, and she wished she could do this forever.

“Stop it!” JJ laughed, pushing her down to the sand before pinning her arms on top of her head. He watched as her chest heaved, a smile playing on her lips.

He pulled away, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

(Y/N) pulled him into a kiss, her fingers wrapping themselves around his jawline and allowing the water to completely wet their whole body. JJ softened into the kiss, still so shocked, but he never felt better than ever.

(Y/N) pulled away, giggling. “You’re red in the face, JJ.”

“Huh?” He smiled, and quickly pulled her up with him. “Let’s go to the Chateau. Get you cleaned up.”

“I’m not meeting your friends looking like this, J,” she rolled her eyes, pushing him away slightly. He pulled her close, placing a soft kiss against her forehead that left her all breathless.

“Why not? You’re still pretty.”

She made a face, but let her body be pulled away by JJ to his bike. She was nervous, of course, to see his friends, but she decided it was time anyways.

If she was to date JJ, then she would have to meet his friends and talk to them eventually.

When (Y/N) first entered the chateau, she didn’t know what to expect. Pope and Kiera were friendly to her, but she could feel the strange vibe between her and Kie, but they were both trying to be polite not to mention anything.

(Y/N) knew there was somebody missing from the group, but she didn’t dare mention it to anyone. JJ had hinted about this to her before, something about John B getting convicted, but she had tried her best to stray away from the topic.

“Let’s play truth or dare,” Kie smiled, clasping her hands together and laying her back against the chair. She watched as JJ whispered something to (Y/N), feeling her heart tightened when she laughed, and shook her head. Kie would never let anyone like her trouble her.

“JJ, truth or dare,” Kie said, crossing her arms. Her question was directed to JJ, but she watching (Y/N) intently.

“Dare.”

“Come on, we’re short of one person who could think of the best dares,” she said, and (Y/N) realised the piercing tone and attention towards her. She sucked in a breath, not sure if she was just stating or directing the statement to her in a satirical manner.

“Okay, truth,” JJ rolled his eyes.

“Do you miss John B?”

“Kie-” Pope groaned, “Not the time.”

(Y/N) watched as he glanced at her, but quickly pulled away when he realised she was staring at him too.

“Okay, since you guys wanna be such assholes,” Kie sat up straighter. “(Y/N), truth or dare?”

“I’m not playing.”

“Of course you’re playing,” Kie laughed, “You’re fucking with JJ now right? You gotta show-”

“Shit, Kie, what’s your problem?” JJ sighed, throwing his arms up into the air. “She’s a friend of mine.”

“She’s not your friend!” She suddenly exclaimed, “She fucking saw Rafe shot Sheriff Peterkin but decided to keep her stupid mouth shut because-”

“Stop it!” JJ yelled, pushing her against the seat. “Kie! Not right now!”

“What do you mean not right now?” (Y/N) asked, disbelief lacing in her tone. What was even happening? She was having the best time of her life a few hours ago at the beach, and now this?

“Oh, did your boyfriend not tell you?” Kie laughed. “It’s all an act for you to confess to him that you saw Rafe kill Sheriff Peterkin. Don’t fucking act dumb with me, (Y/N), you saw, and you didn’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she gritted her teeth, “I never saw him kill anyone.”

“Bullshit!”

“Kie!” JJ yelled, using all of his power to hold off the struggling girl. He motioned for Pope to take over and tried to reach (Y/N), only for her to walk straight towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, I don’t mean it-” he sighed, wrapping his fingers around her wrist before pulling her close. “I don’t-”

“You betrayed me,” she said. “Are you that stupid? So you planned about helping me to the taxi stop so that I can confess whatever it is about Rafe? Is that your fucking plan?”

“No, oh my god, I didn’t mean-”

“Fuck! I know I can never trust you guys,” she hissed, pulling her hand away before walking towards the door. She groaned again when she realised the lack of a vehicle to drive home, but she rather walk back home than be in the same distance as JJ or Kie or anyone else.

She walked alone all the way to the main part of town so that she could hire a cab, and just to make her day any better; the rain suddenly decided it was time to cool the island, and (Y/N) was left to soak.

She put her arms around her, shivering slightly, looking back at her previous way and wondering how much time she had spent walking from the Chateau. If only she had driven all the way from Figure 8 to The Cut, she wouldn’t have had to waste her time walking mindlessly.

A few minutes after, she saw a car pulling up beside her. She decided to ignore the black vehicle in hope for whoever it is to finally give up.

“Get in, (Y/N).”

Part #2

[after-witch]

Sketch Memory [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Sketch Memory [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: Chisaki lets you indulge in your little hobbies. But he’s starting to suspect that you’re taking advantage of his “generosity.” 

For request: @hello-lucky-luka​ said: Remember that one ask about overhaul’s angel having a boyfriend? Can I request a scenario where she misses her boyfriend a lot that she draws pictures of him to the point where overhaul got his attention and get jealous?

Word count: 2700ish

You’re not lying, you reason. You’re not, technically speaking, hiding anything. Overhaul never asks to see your sketchbook. And he never said you couldn’t draw someone you know. So the fact that you have been drawing your boyfriend every day since your captor gifted you the hefty, nicely bound thick sketchbook is something you force yourself not to worry about. 

Sometimes you find yourself sketching just a bit of him--his hands holding onto his favorite coffee mug, the profile of his face, looking up, staring at a movie marquee on a date night.

Sometimes you draw his face in all its glory--smiling, frowning, annoyed. When you have lots of energy, lots of drive (which is not often, you feel so tired now, all the time; the lack of movement and weariness of captivity is getting to you) you draw an entire scene. Your favorite is the one you’re doing now, though to be fair, every new drawing is your favorite because it’s new. This one, you admit, is exceptionally special. You’ve drawn him sitting in the park, with a book in his lap.

The park, like everything else, is from memory. You wavered on where to put the tree behind the bench, because you can’t quite remember if it’s off-center or not, and whether or not it had a knot in the trunk towards the bottom or the middle. But it’s realistic, and that’s enough for now.

It’s your boyfriend that gives you the most pride in this piece. You’ve outdone yourself, you really have. He looks… alive. Weighty. Real. Real enough that you wish you’d done this in color and not just with your sketch pencils. Real enough that you close your eyes and imagine you’re in the park, that he’s sitting there with his book, engrossed in a story, so engrossed that he doesn’t see you coming. You stop in your tracks and admire his face, preserve the way he looks so focused, so far-away, to memory. You admire the way the breeze gently blows his hair, and a hand absentmindedly pushes his bangs (he needs a trim, or a style) away from his face before he flips a page.

Finally you can stand it no longer, and though you hate to break his concentration, you glide up to the bench and sit next to him. He jumps, but once he sees its you his body tension melts away and he slides closer until your thighs touch. “Good book?” You ask. He nods, then looks ahead. He looks concerned. Or focused. You’re not sure. “Are you okay?” He gives you a look of surprise, of worry, then a smile. “Of course. I just…” His hand fiddles in his pocket. There’s something there, something bulky and square. “Wanted to ask you something…” Your heart is hammering because you know what’s in his pocket and his hand is moving and he’s about to ask you and you’re smiling--

“Who did you draw?”

You’re not in the park--you’re not in the park--and your boyfriend is not here, and Overhaul is looming above you and he’s looking right at your sketchbook.

You slam the book closed and you know in the instant that you do that it was the wrong move. Defensive. Obvious. Shit, shit, shit shit.

You stare ahead and will yourself not to shake.

“I asked you a question, angel.”

“I…”

You don’t know where it comes from, but the courage to lie comes from somewhere, and you deliberately, slowly reopen your book to the exact page.

“Sorry,” you say, finally, looking up at him. You laugh, breathy and light. His face is impassive, as always. “You scared me. I was really focused, trying to, you know, think of what’s missing.” You pick up a pencil and fiddle with it, make a line here and there, useless things really, to make it look like you want to keep going.

“Mm.”

Your heart is beating so hard that it almost hurts.

“You didn’t answer my question. Who did you draw?” To anyone else, his tone might seem casual, neutral. Bored, even. But you know there’s something simmering underneath, the low threat of perceived bad behavior, the low threat of him sitting you down for “a talk,” or the distant promise returning to a particular small room and confinement. 

You force yourself to smile, nervously. No point in hiding the anxiety that he knows is there, after all. “Oh! It’s,” and in a split second the idea comes to you, genius--”just a character from that book I was reading the other day.” You set your book down and casually--you hope it looks casual--reach up to the shelves installed along the walls behind your desk to pluck the book out. “The one about the guy who came home from war and no one remembered him, so he starts a new life in a new town.”

You set the book back in place and glance up at Chisaki, who stares down at you. You’re about to blurt out something, anything, to fill the silence when he nods. It’s a tension-cutting nod, a nod that tells you you’re okay, you haven’t fucked up, he believes you and you can stop feeling like you’re going to throw up now.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the book.”

He’s fine. You’re fine. It’s fine. For now, you think, for now. You want him to leave before he starts asking more questions.

“Kai?”

“Yes?” His eyes crinkle ever-so-slightly. A smile, you think, behind the mask. Maybe.

You smile in what you hope is a sheepish, not nervous, expression. “Could I take a nap today? I’m feeling kind of tired.”

He doesn’t answer right away, which makes your fingers curl on the hard back of your sketchbook. Does he know?

He reaches out with a gloved hand and there’s a split second of fear--you’re done for--before he simply brushes your cheek. One of his rare, yet increasingly common, touches.

“Of course you can. I’ll set a timer so you don’t sleep too long.”

He turns and leaves your room through he unassuming door that connects to his office and you mumble a quiet thank you as it shuts. He’ll know if you don’t nap--you swear he has cameras in the room, though he denied it when you asked--so you tuck your sketchbook into the drawer of the desk and decide to hop into bed. A nap might help you feel less anxious, anyway. Your captor doesn’t let you nap long enough to dream, so you’ll be spared a nightmare.

**

You wake, almost jerking up, to the sudden, loud beeping of Overhaul’s watch--which is strange, because he usually sits in his office while you nap and wakes you up in a condescendingly gentle manner.

You open your eyes and Chisaki is standing silently next to your bed.

“Um?” You rub your eyes, the gentle rest of the nap falling off you abruptly as you take in the unusual circumstances.

You sit up and oh.

He’d holding your sketchbook.

He’s flipping through your sketchbook.

And he’s really, really pissed off. The air suddenly feels heavy and there’s nothing of the cold staleness that usually permeates your mundane interactions with your captor, the awkwardness replaced instead with the gravity of your situation. For the first time in a long time, you remember who has you captive. You remember what he can do. He could hurt you. He might hurt you. Did you anger him enough to break down whatever barriers that have kept him from hurting you so far?

He flips another page and another and lets out a sarcastic hum of approval. You feel your heart beat faster at every sound.

“Is that his hand? Remarkable shading, but…”

He rips the page out and crumples it, tossing it into the large trashcan before flipping the page. “Ah,” he says, voice low and cruel. “Another one of his face.” He rips that one out with particular gusto but it doesn’t crumple--it explodes, pieces of paper flying into the air. Some of them land on you, in your hair, and you furiously bat at them and your heart hurts and you know you’re tearing up and you don’t care.

“Stop,” you say, weak. A whimper. “Stop it.” Fat tears roll down your cheeks and it’s hard to see.

“Don’t argue with me.” His tone is quick and curt, and you know there will be no mercy, no coddling. No soft hushes and shushes. Only coldness. “You’re already in enough trouble.”

At the word ‘trouble,’ you wrap your arms around your chest. Trouble, trouble, trouble. The word carries memories and connotations. Isolation. Anxiety. Boredom. Helplessness. All things you experience on a daily basis, amplified, rolling together in a thick ball that rests at the bottom of your stomach. You can’t go back in your punishment room.

“Look at me,” he says--and you do. You want to get out of trouble. If that’s possible.

Chisaki doesn’t glare at you, not precisely, but his eyes are stern and unforgiving. You wonder if he’s frowning behind the mask, but maybe it’s better not to know. Once he’s satisfied that you’re paying attention, he continues.

“You are going to get out of bed.  You are going to stand next to me. And then you’re going to rip out every drawing you’ve done of this… trash. And you will throw them away.”

You can feel the bitter, acrid taste of your lunch threatening to rise up to your throat.

“Please.” You’re whispering. You don’t have the strength to talk. “Please don’t make me do that.”

Somehow, you know--you know that if you rip up these pages, you’ll start to forget what your boyfriend looks like. The earliest drawings have the strongest features, the ones you flip to when you’re not sure about something. If those are gone, if every study you’ve done from memory is gone, you’ll forget. Just like you’ve forgotten the combination to your locker at work and the street your favorite bakery was on. You’ll forget, without the pages, without the reminders.

You know this. And Chisaki knows this, too. He always knows what you’re thinking, somehow, someway. If you could get a few steps ahead of him for once, keep yourself guarded, maybe he wouldn’t be able to effect you so much. 

“If you don’t want to destroy drawings of this garbage, I can always pay him a visit.” Your entire body goes rigid and you want to cry out and beg him--no no no--but nothing leaves your throat, thick and tight and trapped. Chisaki’s eyes practically glint as he continues. “It might be more satisfying to destroy the real thing, now that I think about it.”

Something in your throat loosens and you stand up, nearly tripping over your own feet.  You grab the book and he lets you, lets you hold it out in front of you like a burden. “I’ll do it,” you murmur, your body trembling. “I’ll do it, just… just don’t hurt him. Please. Please?” You look up and there’s no softness in his eyes, no agreeable smile that you sometimes see when he’s agreeing to give you a treat (because that is your life now, your captor agreeing to let you watch a movie is a special treat to be celebrated)--just passive coldness.

“Do what I told you, and we’ll see.”

It’s a start.

But now you have to do it.

Your drawings. Your work. Your memory of him. All pages and pencil and smudges and tears. Your entire body is trembling--you feel like the ground is moving, swaying beneath your feet. Your hands shake as you flip open to the nearest page.

An early sketch. One where your boyfriend’s face was so clear in your mind that if you had the skills to make photo realistic work, you might have been able to do it. You try to capture it to your memory but the second your hand moves, rips just a little, it seems to fly away. You pull harder and quickly wrinkle the paper in your hands before tossing it towards the trash bin.

You pause too long, apparently, because Chisaki speaks up.

“Keep going. I won’t tell you again.”

And you do. You tear out page after page, your tears flowing freely. You begin to feel numb, after a while, even as you rip out drawings that took you hours--drawings you poured your soul into, whatever is left of your soul after months and months of captivity.

One more to go.

Your hand gingerly touches the sketch that you’d been so proud of earlier. The last page. The last visual memory left--the only one not ripped apart or crumpled or shredded and nestled in your hair.

 You want to lose yourself in it again. You want to close your eyes and pretend you’re at the park and he’s about to propose and your life will be nothing but sweetness and planning for the future. But the air is too thick and Overhaul is staring and he can’t read your thoughts, but he’ll figure it out anyway.

So you rip the page out of the book and tear it in half, jagged and uneven, before throwing it into the garbage.

Your hand recoils from the ghost-like memory of the paper on your fingers and you press them against your chest, above your heart.

Your boyfriend has probably moved on by now. Maybe he’s months deep into a rebound relationship, finding himself brushing away tears at new firsts with another woman, a woman who can’t replace you but who will heal the wound you left in his heart. Who will heal your wounds?

Chisaki is staring at you, you realize, and you drop your hands. You don’t want him to think you’re fondly reminiscing. He could always change his mind about leaving your boyfriend--your ex? What do you call him? What does he call you, you wonder?--alone.

“We’re going to have a long talk about this later,” he says, voice leaving no room for argument. He pauses, and your chest feels tight. Will he tell you that you’re being sent to the quiet room? The thought of being there for days, alone, unable to do anything, barely able to move in the tight surroundings makes you shake and you dig your nails into your arm.

“You can stay in your room. You listened well.”

You swallow, throat tight, and nod. You almost want to smile. You don’t have to go back there, if you listen. You know how to listen, when it comes down to it.

Chisaki glances down at the trash bin and picks it up with his gloved hands, dragging it towards the door.

“One more thing,” he says, glancing back at you.

“Go wash your hands. They’re filthy.”

[auramindedd]

Fixed? Never - SMAU*

Part 3

CorpseHusband x FemReader

Warnings: cussing

A/N: again, any posts with a “ * ” attached to “smau” has writing in it. imma focus A LOT more on just the social media n message perspective, but y/n n corpse meet in this part soooo i had to add some writing :) something else b4 i forget; i’m updating my masterlist and changing it into a directory post that way you guys can also request through a google form! i’ll have requests open at all times unless i get too stressed out or if they overfill. due to me changing my masterlist, there’s gonna be about 6 posts i think. also,, thank you guys so much for 600 followers! i’ve been hitting a bunch of milestones and haven’t been remembering to say thank you, but just know that i appreciate every single one of you... also i love reading y’all’s comments 😭

🤍 directory

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You make sure you’re set up before 6 PM, which was probably a mistake. You can’t sit still, you’re starting to get nervous, and you kind of just want to run away to McDonald’s.

Sure, you know Ludwig, Dream, and Rae, but it feels like you’re at school all over again. That anxious feeling of having to be with people while your best friends aren’t around.

You’re leg is bouncing, your nails are tapping on your desk, and you can’t stop running your hand through your hair. It probably looks like a fucking bird nest by now.

You start streaming, deciding that maybe talking to your supporters will make things a bit better.

“Hey, loves,” You greet in a not so Y/N-fashioned way. Of course, the chat catches on, and you’re being called out for it. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that your supporters know how you usually are.

@user: What happened to, “Hey, bitches!”

@user: Ou, someone is nervous.

Yeah, they obviously know you very well.

“Alright, let’s start over.” You clear your throat for dramatic effect because, well, when are you not dramatic? “Hey, bitches!” Yup, even you know that just feels right.

After a while of talking to your supporters, Rae sends you the Discord invite and the Among Us code. You join, feeling your nerves start to come back.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims in excitement when she sees you’ve joined the Among Us lobby.

“Hi,” You say, shyness lacing your voice.

“Oh my God! The cutest voice.” Jack says. Wow, what a compliment coming from the Jack_Septic_Eye.

You take time to introduce yourself to everyone, trying to calm your nerves.

“Are we gonna start?” Ludwig’s impatient ass asks.

“We’re waiting for Corpse.” Rae explains.

Shit, another person you have to introduce yourself to?

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets quickly, very obviously racing to be the first to say hi to Corpse.

“Hey, Sykkuno,” Corpse chuckles, and woah, the last thing you expected. You can’t help but be surprised, and you know it’s showing on your face. Why? Because your supporters are teasing you in the chat.

“Corpse,” Rae says in a sing-songy tone. “This is Y/N.” And your heart drops to your fucking stomach. Every single time it happens when you have to meet someone, but now your heart is beating even faster because you’re obviously the only one who hasn’t met Corpse. They’re all expecting a reaction out of you...

“Hey, Y/N.” His deep, husky voice says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it helps ease your nerves.

“Hi,” You greet, shyness still lacing your voice.

Corpse chuckles, “So cute.” Now you’re blushing. Great...

Rae starts the game, saving you before the others can start teasing you.

Crewmate.

You’ve only played Among Us once, in a public server with Dream, George, Karl, and Alex, and then you got bullied for not knowing what the fuck to do.

To say the least, you’re pretty glad to be Crewmate and not Impostor.

“Y/N!” Jack shouts, walking up to you. You slightly jump, forgetting they’re playing with Proximity Chat.

“Jack!” You shout back, letting his astronaut catch up to you.

“We were expecting a reaction.” He says, and of course they were.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I feel like he hears it a lot, don’t want to add on to the list of Things People Say To Him Everyday.”

“Yeah, he’s probably very grateful for that.”

“Grateful for what?” Charlie walks up to you two.

“Nothing,” Jack drawls. You’ve just met Charlie, but you know that he’d tease both you and Corpse about one another’s voices.

“Oh, I know!” Charlie exclaims, but before he can say what he knows-

“Okayyy! That’s enough interaction with Charlie for today.” Jack says, and you take that as a, ‘Walk the fuck away now, Y/N!’

You walk around, trying your best to finish tasks, but when it comes to the card swipe in Admin, you want to quit life as a whole.

“Ugh, I fucking quit.” You groan, slamming your hands on your desk. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes through on your headphones.

“Having trouble?” Corpse teases.

“Yeah. I wanna rip every strand of my fucking hair out.”

“Swipe it slower.” And with that, you try again. Voila! Just like magic.

“Well if I would’ve fucking known.” You groan, Corpse chuckling.

“Here, I can help you with the game.”

“Yes, please, I don’t know shit about it.”

“You know, you cuss a lot for having such a sweet, innocent, and cute voice.” Corpse laughs.

“Yeah,” You drawl. “I know, bad fucking habit.” You slap your hand over your mouth. How does someone cuss in every sentence? Get a filter, damn.

Corpse walks around with you as you both finish tasks, explaining how the game works, and giving you tips for when you do end up being an Impostor.

Honestly, you could listen to his voice all day. He’s also really sweet.

“What are you two up to?” Brooke asks, doing tasks in Electrical with you two. Corpse told you to make sure you’re always aware of your surroundings when you’re in Electrical. So, naturally, you’re freaking out, but silently and internally.

“Brooke,” Corpse warns. He doesn’t even have time to finish his warning. Brooke kills him, his body flopping over, the one bone sticking out from the top of his body. Your mouth falls open.

“Hey, Y/N. Let’s be besties!” You don’t know what to do, but ay, #girlsupportinggirls, right? So, you walk with her. She helps you along the way, also telling you tips on the game, explaining how everything works. Then, after about a minute, a whole 60 seconds, Corpse’s body is reported.

“Why Corpse? Such an innocent man with a beautiful voice.” Lud fake cries.

“Get over it,” Brooke says.

“It’s Brooke! Brooke’s an Impostor!” Lud shouts.

“What? No! I was with Y/N for a lot of this round.” Brooke defends herself, and oh fuck, who the fuck do you defend? You’ve just met both of them, one of them will possibly hate you forever.

“Y/N?” Sykkuno grabs your attention, snapping you out of your thinking.

“Yeah, she was. She wouldn’t have had time to kill Corpse. Where was the body?” Well, there you go, potentially ruining yours and Corpse’s blooming friendship. Sad Girl Hour, type beat.

“In Electrical,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, no way she would’ve had to time to kill him.”

Nobody’s voted out. Brooke hasn’t even told you who the second Impostor is so, you don’t know if you should stay with her or not.

As you and Brooke are walking around, or skipping as she sees it, and holding hands, Dream pops out of a vent. Well, there’s Imposter two.

“Woah! Dream, way to out yourself out.” You tease, throwing your head back and laughing.

“Please, you’ve been with Brooke the whole time. Don’t say anything.” Dream begs, making you and Brooke giggle.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” He starts walking away from you guys, but not without finishing his sentence that you thought was already finished. “Cutie.” And there, finished.

Fucking finished! Tweedle-dee, tweedle dum! Whoopty-fucking-do! Fan-fucking-tastic! A-fucking-mazing!

And of course you’re blushing for the whole 80,000+ people watching to tease you about.

“Oh my God!” Brooke squeals. “What was that?!”

“I’ll explain later,”

•*•*•*•*•

“Y/N, how could you?” Corpse says, offended.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do.”

“She’s my enemy, Y/N. We were supposed to stick together. I told you some tips and tricks, explained how to be a badass Impostor, everything!” Wow, he’s a good fucking actor.

“I can very well do the same thing, bitch.” Brooke spits, all in a playful manner - you hope...

“Not better than me, bitch.” Corpse retorts, his astronaut getting closer.

•*•*•*•*•

Imposter.

With Corpse.

Great.

Your enemy. Or as he put it, “Enemy who he can maybe, and most likely, will become friends with in the near future.”

“Follow,” He says, and even though he’s your enemy, you do.

“I gotta do my own thing.”

“You don’t know how to do shit.” Corpse scoffs.

“Okay then, what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Double kills, all the way, but only when we meet up with each other. So, right now, we’ll both go our own ways, but when we see each other again, we’ll walk to a pair and do a double kill if we can.” Corpse explains.

“Brooke told me not to do double kills often. It won’t help get through a game.”

Corpse snorts, “Brooke doesn’t know dog shit about this game.”

“Fine,” You groan, going along with it only because you don’t know dog shit about the game either.

As Corpse explained, you two do double kills every time you meet up. You two managed to get double kills where people rarely go - Shields, Comms, and the top of Cafeteria.

After killing Rae and Sykkuno, the game ends. You made sure to leave Brooke and Dream alive.

“Period, we did that!” You exclaim, everyone else groaning and complaining about how you two should never be an Impostor duo again. “But I still fucking hate you because you hate me!”

“Exactly!” Corpse retorts in the same tone as you.

•*•*•*•*•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist - comment or message me to be added!

* if your username is in bold, please reach out to me; you’re at risk of having your username removed that way i can clear space for other tags. *

@cherry-piee @littlered00 @sunnywinterdays @strang-ersclub @callmemaeve-y @powerpuffyn @kusuinko @where-thesundoesntshine @letglimmersayfuck @coryisagee @a-dot-dev @ifilosemyselfagain @tayloryorkscurls @lex-prplatmngrl @letsloveimagines @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @smiithys @mikayladoesntknow @clubfairy @mirahg @thurstyforholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @majasophieanna

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[skiller0dani]

Sinful | Spencer Reid

M A S T E R L I S T Criminal Minds Masterlist

smut | sub!spencer x bau!reader requests info summary | when spencer decides to let the witness flirt with him, you decide to have some fun of your own with derek. it becomes obvious that it's a mistake.

this was sitting in my drafts unedited!! I'm still trying to finish up Amortentia part 2 & the Ethan AU. They'll be up I promise, until then.. enjoy Sub!Spencer! This is my first real stab at a dom reader so I hope I did okay. I've read fics about face slapping as a kink and I just wanna let you guys know that I am not comfortable writing that so I probably never will include that.

Also I hate saliva so I probably wont write about spitting either. Sorry lololol

thanks @imagining-in-the-margins for the inspiration! (was totally inspired by "messy lessons" if you guys haven't read it...you should!)

At first you doubted he knew what he was even doing.

At first.

Maybe he wasn't trying to get in her pants, and maybe he wasn't trying to lead her on. But he was still letting her shamelessly flirt with him. You'd been with the FBI for years and made the silly mistake of assuming that working in the same department as your boyfriend would make things easier on you. Being able to see him everyday is a definite plus, seeing him in danger every time you're in the field is definitely not a plus. Watching a busty blonde witness flirt with him is certainly not a plus, especially when he lets her throw herself into his chest. Supposedly "distraught" but you see the cheeky smile peeking at the corner of her lips.

You see the thing about Spencer that nobody except for you knows, is that deep down he's a very naughty boy. The little mischievous glint in his eyes when his eyes meet yours from across the interrogation room proved that. You were professional however, so you were forced to stand by and watch him comfort her. Bitch.

"C-Could you get me some water?" Her voice was shaky, you still didn't buy it.

"Sure, Doctor-"

"Agent Y/L/N if you wouldn't mind?" Spencer's much more dominating voice cut through yours. Your eyebrows flew up as you shared a millisecond stare down with him. You could see the playful look in his eyes, flashed by the brattiest smile you'd ever seen grace his lips. Your lips stretched in a tight smile before you nodded and turned out of the room.

When JJ joined you near the kitchenette she opened her mouth to say something, but once she'd noticed you white knuckle gripping the faucet handle she changed her mind. She continued with whatever she was doing, not looking at you. It was a tense few minutes until she turned out of the room. While everyone in the BAU knew you and Spencer were together, it was easy for them to forget seeing as you never acted as a couple at work. For obvious reasons. Only in moments of danger, like when Spencer's helicopter went down and there were panicked tears streaming down your cheeks did they remember that you were in fact, together.

Apparently your usually good boy seems to have forgotten who he belongs to as well. The sight you returned to left tendrils of anger licking at the pit of your stomach.

"Oh really, that is so cool! I'll bet you're so strong!" The witness had perked up considerably since you'd left the room. Her hand reached up to curl at his bicep, and he didn't stop her. What a brat. Spencer sat next to her rather than across from her at the table, presumably to console her. Spencer beamed at her praise, an action you did not miss.

"Yeah, actually FBI agents are required to pass a variety of physical exams to insure they're physically healthy enough to chase down an unsub if need be-"

"Here's your water." Your voice was tense and you had to resist the urge to "accidentally" spill the water on her as you set the glass down. You didn't meet Spencer's eye as he stood to follow you out of the room. You could see the naughty façade fading as soon as he'd left the room.

"Y/N?" His voice was soft and his big brown eyes wide when you turned to glance at him. Your heart melted at the sight of those sad puppy dog eyes but you're not going to give in when baby boy broke so many rules.

"Shush." Is all you say, your voice sharp. You're not going to hide the fact that you're mad at him. And you're going to stay mad at him, no matter how cute he is.

"Yes ma'am." Spencer mumbles as he follows you towards the room Hotch is waiting in with the whiteboard. You try your hardest to focus on whatever Hotch is saying but all you can think about is that stupid witness pressing her chest up against Spencer, and the fact that he was practically bathing in the attention she gave him. You hated the fact that Spencer was getting exactly what he wants, he lives for your punishments. In a way, punishing him was also rewarding him but it was rewarding for you too.

After vaguely remembering Hotch asking for Spencer, you watched him scramble forward. You don't miss the fact that he nearly stops to ask for your permission to do so, you have him trained so well. A smile quirks at the corner of your mouth and you almost feel like forgiving him until Hotch speaks again.

"Reid, I want you to take Allison Calloway home..." he lists off where the rest of you will go but at that point you're no longer listening. You hear Hotch pair your name with Derek, which sparks a wicked idea in your head. He's having Spencer take the witness home? Is the world punishing you? You see Spencer steal one nervous glance at you before rushing to get Allison. You tongue your cheek before reluctantly following Derek out of the precinct.

//

You and Derek were apparently instructed by Hotch to go investigate the second crime scene, where a young man with his hands missing was found earlier this morning. You peek at Derek out of the corner of your eye, Derek is one of your close friends and he knows more than he should about yours and Spencer's...extracurricular activities. He seems to be in a good mood today, and he's unlikely to think anything of it. He'll definitely tell Spencer about it, which is sort of what you're hoping for. While this is hardly the place for you to "come on" to Derek, you're willing to do it. Spencer needs a taste of his own medicine.

"Odd, that the unsub removes the hands but repositions the watch around the victims ankle." Derek muses, his hand coming up to scratch at the stubble on his chin. Luckily the officers sent to patrol the crime scene are nowhere nearby. You circle Derek, trying to formulate the perfect sentence in your mind. It can't be too much, but definitely enough for him to inform Spencer. Derek is used to more lewd phrases coming from yours and Penelope's mouth, so surprising him enough to tattle to your boyfriend will be a challenge.

It can't be anything that would hurt Spencer however.

Derek views Spencer as his little brother and would never hurt him, and you wouldn't want to hurt Spencer either this is all in good filthy fun. It has to be a little risky, but not so risky that Derek would prefer keeping it from Spencer to protect him. If its too much Derek will approach you directly about it which would be humiliating and would entirely miss the point. This is a very delicate operation.

"Oh Derek, have you been working out?" You decide to take the easy route, adding a dash of sultry to your tone.

"Occasionally." Derek doesn't turn his head towards you, you haven't quite captured his attention yet.

"Firm is a good look on you." You tease, you'll need to ease him into it because he's going to have the wind knocked out of him when you finally lay it on him.

"Easy girly, you're venturing into dangerous territory." You hear the lilt to his tone letting you know that he's joking. You need to push it further.

"No I'm serious," you need to tread very carefully. You don't want to ruin a friendship you still want to keep, "it's a really good look on you."

Derek turns to you then, an eyebrow raised as he watches you trail your eyes down his body. While Derek isn't a bad looking guy, he doesn't even come close to comparing to your beautiful boy. Spencer is easily the cutest and sexiest man you've ever had the privilege of standing in the same room with.

"What's with you?" He asks, keeping the smile on his face so he doesn't alert you that he's concerned. You're on the right track but if you leave it here Derek will let it go. You need to drop that mini bomb on him, just a little more. You trail a finger down his shoulder, towards his bicep.

"Nothing, just admiring the view. The big, strong, sexy, view. What I wouldn't give to have you in bed Derek Morgan." There's the bomb. Your words have an immediate effect over him. The half-lidded sultry look in your eyes is enough for him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. Usually he can tell if you're joking but now he really can't tell. He's speechless, which doesn't happen to Derek Morgan very often.

"Y/N..."

"Call me if you wanna take me up on my offer." You send a wink at him before turning to head towards the black SUV. That should be enough for him to tattle.

//

When you return to the precinct, you watch with pleased eyes as Derek immediately pulls Spencer into a side room. Derek briefly glances at you, and you send him a smile but do not receive on in return. You don't think anything of it, Derek will get over it eventually with an explanation. You watch carefully as Derek begins to speak and an unreadable expression crosses onto Spencer's face, you expect he's just absorbing what Derek is telling him. Any minute now that look will cross onto his face, those dark eyes that warn you that you've officially annoyed him.

Derek keeps speaking, you can see his lips moving. What are they talking about? It shouldn't be taking this long. You're too far away to really make out their faces, so you subtly sneak closer when Spencer's eyes flash to meet yours and you gasp. There is no anger on his face, no playful annoyance, instead you see pain. Hurt. Betrayal. Derek tries to reach out to grab Spencer but the door to that side room opens and Spencer comes rushing out of it. Not bothering a side glance at you as he makes his hasty exit.

"I was only kidding." You explain quickly as Derek emerges. He doesn't look amused.

"It was too far Y/N. He's crushed." Derek snaps, brushing past you. Immediately you turn and exit the precinct, quickly finding Spencer tucked away in a secluded corner. He's sitting against the building, his head tucked into his knees and the absolute worst part is the fact that he's softly crying. You kneel in front of him in an instant, although you're not sure what to even say.

"Oh baby boy, I was only kidding. I didn't mean it, I said it because you flirted with that blonde witness!" You explain in a hurry, trying to reach out to take him in your arms. Spencer resists, instead lifting his head to look at you. His eyes are glossy and red rimmed, "kidding?"

"Yes precious, I was kidding."

"But Derek is more...attractive then I am." Spencer whimpers softly. You reach forward to firmly grasp Spencer's chin, ensuring he looks at you.

"Spencer Walter Reid you look at me," You order, and hesitantly Spencer lifts his watery eyes to meet yours. "There is not a single person who is more attractive then you are, you are flawless."

"But deep down you want Derek-"

"I was kidding Spencer. I only want you, my good boy." You purr, and you see a shiver run down his spine. You lean forward to press your lips to his before your thumbs come up to swipe away your tears.

"I'm not a good boy, I don't deserve it." Spencer whimpers once you help him stand up. Even though you're looking up at him, it's still very clear that you're the one in charge. "I flirted with Allison."

"You're right, you haven't been very good have you? I'm sure you'll make it up to me in the hotel room." You smile pressing a kiss to his flushed cheek. He nods immediately, it warms your heart.

"I love you." Spencer whispers after he catches your hand as you're about to open the door. You press a kiss to his palm, "I love you precious."

//

You could feel the nerves rolling off of him when you opened the door to your shared hotel room. The door shut with a soft click as you kicked off your shoes. Spencer remained at the hotel room door curled in on himself and wringing his hands together. You have to hide the smile as you shed your jacket from your shoulders, beginning to reach for your jeans when you pause. You take a seat on the bed, watching Spencer eye you carefully from his spot by the door.

"Come here." There isn't a question in your tone, it's more of an order. An order Spencer hastily obeys as he scrambles to stand before you.

"Undress me." You instruct, and Spencer kneels immediately to grab at the hem of your shirt. He carefully lifts the fabric off your body and tosses it aside before reaching around your body to unclip your bra. "No touching baby boy, you were naughty remember?" You snapped, and you saw him turn his head down in shame before turning his attention towards your pants. He unbuttons your jeans and helps pull them down your legs. Spencer's breath gets caught in his throat when his eyes land on your clothed pussy.

"Like what you see precious? Maybe if you were a good boy and didn't let that woman run her hands all over you, maybe I'd let you touch." You purr watching the disdain in his eyes when he realizes what his punishment is going to be.

"Tell me the truth baby boy, did you let her touch you in the car?"

He nods, but that's not good enough for you. You reach down to roughly palm him through his slacks.

"I said did you let her touch you?" You punctuate every word with a gentle squeeze around his cock. Finally, Spencer seems to find his voice.

"Y-Yes!"

"Where? Show me where she marked what's mine." You hiss, not even attempting to disguise your frustration. Spencer lifts one hand to his chest and trails it down his stomach, dangerously close to the hem of his pants before thankfully he stops.

"You let her touch you, this close to your cock?" You snap, tearing your hand away from him.

"I-I'm sorry!" He stammers, his eyes wide and his hands resting on the tops of his thighs. Boy does he look pretty on his knees before you. Not pretty enough for mercy however. There's a pleading look in his eyes, and a desperation. A desperation to please you.

"Make it up to me." You snap and as soon as the words leave your lips, Spencer's fingers are curling around the waistband of your underwear and tearing them off your body.

"Y-Yes ma'am." You lean back on your elbows as Spencer lowers his head between your legs, his eyes flickering to yours briefly. With a nod of your head, Spencer is delving between your legs with the enthusiasm of sex deprived teenager. Your head tosses back immediately as you feel his tongue licking thick stripes over your entrance. He continues to lap at you, his tongue teasing your entrance before he returns to his heavy licking. You moan softly, your fingers digging into his curls and pulling his head closer.

"Just like that, you're being such a good boy." You praise through breathy moans, and Spencer can feel his chest swell with pride. He loves being your good boy. But he isn't your baby boy all the time, sometimes, with a bit of coaxing, he becomes daddy. Spencer reaches up to prod a finger at your entrance before he's sinking in knuckle deep, his mouth curling around your clit. Spencer pumps on finger, to stretch you a little before slowly working a second finger into your suffocatingly tight heat.

"Yes Spencer, don't stop." You beg, feeling yourself climbing closer to reaching the peak, especially when his tongue flicks expertly against your clit while his fingers pump steadily into you. "Oh God, my good boy-" You praise again, and this time Spencer moans against you. Your toes curl as the vibrations send a course of pleasure through you, you've got to make him do that again.

"Do you like being my good boy Spencer? My good, obedient boy. So eager to please me, to make me feel good. And you do, you make me feel so good because you're such a good, good, boy." Your heavy praise causes Spencer to release a low groan, and the feeling is enough to launch you over the edge. Spencer keeps pumping is fingers into you, his tongue swirling soft circles over your clit to help you through your orgasm. Once your body has stopped jerking, you finally pull him off you.

"I forgive you precious, but unfortunately I still have to punish you." You inform him as you pull him back up to his feet. You hear him whine as you push his chest to lay him back against the bed.

"Do you have to?"

"Are you talking back to me baby boy?"

"N-No!" He squeaks instantly, his cheeks painted red. You stand over him, laying beneath you and you can't fight the soft moan that escapes your lips upon seeing him. His hair is disheveled from you raking your fingers through his, his brown eyes are wide and innocent as he looks up at you, and his cheeks are dusted such a beautiful shade of pink.

"Take off your clothes precious, I want to see all of you." You instruct, and you love the shy look on his face as he reaches up to remove his shirt. You let your eyes shamelessly roam his body as he slowly exposes more skin to you. Despite having been together for a few years now, Spencer is still incredibly insecure. Deep down he's worried you'll grow tired of him. Worried that you'll seek out other men despite being with him. Spencer is worried he's not enough to keep you interested. Which is wildly untrue, it's already been over 3 years and if anything you become more interested as time goes on.

"So beautiful baby boy, your body is a work of art." You breathe under your breath. Spencer blushes even deeper then he was before as he nervously fidgets underneath. You swing your legs on either side of his waist, your palms on the bed next to his head. "Your punishment, precious boy," your hands drift to his that are resting on your hips, "is that you can't touch me." You finish, moving his hands to the bed.

Spencer's eyes widen as his head drops back. A whine escapes his lips, but like a good boy, he grasps tightly at the sheets. You reach between your bodies to grasp his cock, pressing the head against your entrance before you teasingly lower onto him. Spencer's eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of your velvety walls around him- it's almost too much for the poor boy. It doesn't help that it's been a few weeks since you two last had sex, meaning you're tighter then you normally are. In fact you're so tight that Spencer can't even breathe properly while he's stretching you open.

"Oh baby boy, you feel absolutely wonderful. Your cock stretches me open so good." You purr, your hands landing on his chest for leverage so you can bounce on him faster. Spencer whimpers softly, the feeling is overwhelming, you can tell he's struggling to contain himself. Your hair drifts down your back when you throw your head back, his cock hitting places deep inside you.

"Getting close," You moan and Spencer knows that's his cue to reach down and begin rubbing circles over your clit. As soon as his thumb makes contact you're moaning loudly, your free hand digging into his hair to hold onto tightly. "Yes Spencer, yes." The phrase becomes a chant you repeat in your head over and over again. Spencer continues to rub you, desperate to help you find your release. When you slam down on him again, his cock hits the place deep inside you that makes your toes curl. You cum instantaneously, your body nearly falling top of Spencer's from the sheer force of it. Spencer's arms come up to steady you, offering shallow thrusts into you to chase his own release.

"Y/N...c-can I?" His voice is wrought, and you smile weakly.

"Yes precious, you can cum." As soon as you give him permission, he's cumming in hot gushes into you, his face buried in your neck. You run your hand down his back as his heart rate slows back to normal, and Spencer's arms stay curled around your waist.

"Spence?"

"Hm?" You can hear the lazy drawl in his voice that lets you know he's getting very sleepy.

"Don't ever break my rules again, or your punishment will be much worse."

"Yes ma'am." You press a kiss to his lips before pulling off him, and curling yourself into his side.

[spideyhexx]

the cookout; b.b. + s. l.

pairing; bucky barnes + sylvie laufeydottir + female!reader

a/n: umm thank @vineridden for talking to me about this and our shared love of Sylvie and Bucky. I couldn't help myself. Pls reblog/comment/give feedback!

masterlist

summary: Sylvie picks up on you and Bucky thirsting over each other and decides to do something about it...and perhaps involve herself.

NSFW 18+ Minors DNI please!!!

WARNINGS: mom's best friend!sylvie. college aged reader and bucky. dirty talk. threesome. grinding. spitting. soft dom!sylvie. some sub!bucky. some dom!reader. oral (female receiving). fingering. unprotected sex. facial. handjob. spanking. kind of edging. some voyeurism. use of the word "whore"

word count: 4.3k (oops)

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

Sizzling grills, water splashing, and the loud chatter erupts from your backyard.

Well, more specifically, your parent’s backyard. It’s not uncommon for them to throw huge cookouts, but this one was big. It’s an anniversary, welcome home, birthday, all the major events tied into one.

You didn’t mind these parties, but part of you wished you could just skip it and stay locked away in your room all day.

It was all good and fun, but the amount of people your parent’s would invite could become quite overwhelming.

One of the only good parts was Bucky. You hadn’t seen him in a couple months, due to the two of you attending different colleges, but that never stopped your frequent texts.

He lived in the house next door, your whole lives spent just a few paces away.

Getting through these parties together almost felt like a tradition. But this time, there was something different in the air.

You did not expect to be hit with a wave of awe as you watched Bucky greet your parents. He was always handsome and perhaps not physically seeing him for a bit made him look better, but shit was he gorgeous. His tight t-shirt was hiding nothing, making the muscles he worked hard on strain more prominently.

And you internally rolled your eyes at his swim trunks that had a cat pattern on them. Seems as though he still loved silly designs.

Your breath catches when he spots you, a grin spreading across his face as he jogs over.

“Flower! God, I’ve missed you,” Bucky says, pulling you right in for a hug. You want to tell him you missed hearing that nickname, but decide against it.

“Missed you too, Buck! Are you ready for a long night?” Bucky smirks at your statement.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you clarify and Bucky still has the smirk on his face. His hands have not left your waist and you wonder if he could tell how much of an effect it has on you.

“I know, just teasin’. Did you hear Sylvie is coming?”

There’s the other good part about these cookouts. Sylvie, a friend of your mom’s.

It was only recently you started to develop a crush on her. With her witty comebacks and smooth accent, it was hard not to.

You might’ve drunkenly admitted your crush on her to Bucky during a late night phone call and he has not forgotten. I

t was easy for you to confess this crush, but somehow not the one you had begun to develop on Bucky himself. You felt a little ashamed that you have been developing feelings for your mother’s best friend, but nothing would ever happen, right?

Bucky tilts his head and pinches your waist.

“You’re already gettin’ lost in your thoughts thinkin’ about her!”

“Oh stop, you think she’s hot too,” you tease, your voice a tinge too loud and Bucky shushes you, putting a finger on your lips.

He did think she was hot.

Bucky revealed his crush on Sylvie as well when you first talked to him about it.

Since then, the two of you joked about it pretty often, but now was your first time seeing her since you’ve acknowledged the little (maybe big) crush.

“Hey Bucky!” One of your cousin’s calls out to him and he looks back at them, before turning to you.

“I’ll see you in the pool?” He questions and you nod, watching as he runs off to talk to more people.

He trips in his flip flops and you burst out laughing, not being able to contain it. Bucky whips his head to look at you and flips you off.

You take one last look at how good his back looks in his shirt before migrating to the lounge chairs, hoping there’s a free one.

That is when you spot Sylvie, laid back in one of the chairs, a drink in her hand.

You take a deep breath before approaching the seat next to her. She smiles widely when she notices you.

“Gonna give me a hug, flower?”

Sylvie beamed, placing her drink down to pull you in for a hug.

Flower.

You could not decide if it sounded better coming from Sylvie or Bucky. Relishing in Sylvie’s hug, you have to stop yourself from pouting when she pulls away just a bit too soon.

“How’re your studies going? I know you were practically jumping to get away from here?” She asks, settling back into her chair.

“School’s good, it feels nice to be around so many new people but, I’ve missed being home if I’m being honest,” you say and she nods in understanding.

“I know I’ve missed seeing you around, flower.”

A heat rushes across your face and you’re happy it’s hot enough outside to keep a facade up. You turn your head away from her, fearing you would end up lost in her eyes.

What you did not expect was for your eyes to lock onto the sight of Bucky taking his shirt off. It’s as though he meant to take it off in slow motion as he carefully lifts it over his head and throws it onto a chair. He puts one foot in the pool and retracts it.

You can vaguely hear him yelling about it being cold.

Bucky sits at the edge of the pool, letting his legs get used to the temperature.

He runs a hand through his hair, making it messier than it already is. Sylvie clears her throat and you turn to her.

“He is an attractive man, isn’t he?”

Her question catches you off guard for a moment, but nonetheless, you answer.

“Yeah, he is.”

A slight weight falls off your chest at admitting it, but how could you not?

Sylvie smirks, “Don’t look now, but he’s checking you out.”

You go to look anyway and sure enough, he’s gazing at you. Bucky turns his attention to a bowl of chips once he notices you caught him.

“You two are so adorable,” Sylvie says.

“Are we?”

She scoffs and leans in closer to you, almost whispering.

“Very much. You’re taking turns checking each other out.”

You laugh and look back at Bucky, who’s decided to lay back in a chair, his legs spread just enough for you to squeeze your thighs together.

“You should go over to him and sit on his lap,” Sylvie mused, chuckling at your shocked expression.

“What?! No, no I can’t do that Sylvie!”

“Why not? He was looking at your bum and now he’s rubbing his thigh, glancing at you like he’s waiting for you to take a seat.” You ponder her words for a moment.

Yes, sitting on Bucky’s lap sounded like a great idea, but you were a tad nervous.

“And I could tell you want him, honey. Do you know what eye fucking in? That’s what you’re doing.”

The fact that Sylvie could see so clearly through your lust filled eyes also managed to send sparks around your body.

“If he rejects you, you can sit in my lap. Now go, flower!”

Well, you couldn’t say no to that. Standing up, you adjust your swimsuit, then walk over to Bucky.

You run through what you should say once you’re by him, but you can’t decide on what would be best.

Too many thoughts are running through your head. Sylvie offering her lap. Her words about sitting in Bucky’s lap and the way his hands look even better against his thighs as you get closer.

“y/n,” he addresses.

“Can I..um, can I sit with you?”

Bucky raises his brow for a moment, but nods and pats a spot on the chair next to him.

“No, I mean, on you. On your lap,” you say and Bucky’s heart skips a beat.

“Sure you can, flower” he says cooly and he immediately wraps his arms around your waist as you settle against his chest, on his lap.

His hands feel warm against your skin, yet send a shiver up your spine. You allow yourself to lay your head on his shoulder, shifting around in his arms to get more comfortable.

“Careful,” Bucky mumbles, clearing his throat. It doesn’t take long to realize you shouldn’t squirm too much.

But you want to. You catch Sylvie’s eye and she smiles at you, raising her drink and then sipping from it.

“Did you have a good talk with her?” Bucky asks.

“Mmhm. She told me to sit here,” you confess, wanting to know his reaction.

He’s quiet for a moment before replying “Mischievous, huh?”

“Like always, but didn’t expect her to...help with this...I suppose.”

“I’m happy she did,” Bucky says, pressing a short kiss on your cheek.

You sit with Bucky for a bit, zoning out and trying to memorize the feeling of his hands splayed across your stomach.

How when he speaks, you can feel his breath hit the side of your face and his voice drops to a lower volume when he only wants to speak to you.

Being so caught up in your thoughts once more, you can’t help but squirm a bit, his arms tightening around you.

“You’re gonna cause a problem,” Bucky tells you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You push back against him and he contains a groan.

“Seems as though I already caused a problem.”

He chuckles and sighs deeply as you wiggle against him, reveling in how hard he’s gotten from your movements.

“We should go inside,” he mutters and you turn slightly to look at him.

“And do what?”

You feign innocence, but the smirk on your face tells Bucky you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

“Do I have to say it?”

You nod at him excitedly and he gently pushes your head to the side so he could lean his lips against your ear.

“I want to go inside so you could properly touch my cock, since you’ve had so much fun the past twenty minutes grinding against it.”

His words send a shudder through your body and you take one last glance at him before standing up. Bucky follows suit, placing a hand on your hip and keeping you close to his body to perhaps hide his rather big hard problem.

You lead him through the house to your bedroom. You don’t notice how fast you’re walking until Bucky pulls at your wrist and gently pushes you against the wall in the hallway.

“Slow down, flower,” he starts, bringing your hands up to his shoulders. He dips his head down to nudge your nose against his.

“Are you sure?”

You nod and Bucky, with a tinge of hesitance, presses his lips on yours. At first, the kiss is simple.

Bucky’s fingers rub against your sides gingerly and he’s taking his time to feel your mouth on his for the first time. You pull away first, your lips lingering on his own.

You catch your breath, not even realizing how fast your heart was beating. So many feelings are rushing through you, but the main urge coursing around is the one to smash his lips back onto you.

One of your hands drifts up to the back of his head to encourage his mouth back onto yours in a searing kiss.

His actions are a little more desperate as he nips at your top lip and presses his body closer to you. The strain in his swimsuit is undeniable and you whimper as you feel him pushing himself against your thigh. Bucky grunts and you trail your lips to his jaw.

Someone clears their throat and you and Bucky jump apart. Sylvie stands a couple feet away leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest and a playful smirk decorating her face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” she teases, gesturing for the two of you to continue. You look at Bucky and he’s already got his eyes back on you.

“I’m fine with it...if you are too,” he mutters, his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“It’s okay,” you reply, kissing him once more.

Heat pools in your belly knowing that Sylvie is watching you make out with Bucky.

“Tug at his hair, flower,” she murmurs and without hesitation you pull at Bucky’s hair, a soft noise escaping his mouth at the sensation.

“Little harder this time.”

You follow her instructions again, tugging hard, causing Bucky to buck his hips against you.

“See? He liked that,” Sylvie comments.

“Why don’t we go to y/n’s room? For more privacy.”

The fact that there’s a party right outside has completely glossed over your mind.

The strong desire to have this moment with not just Bucky, but Sylvie as well was enough to lead Bucky into your room, Sylvie following behind. She closes the door and locks it. She takes a seat in your desk chair.

“Continue...with what you were doing.” Her voice, firm yet soft must’ve been turning both you and Bucky on.

His cock looked like it was suffering from his shorts, while you could feel how soaked you’ve gotten since you first sat on Bucky’s lap.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed and patted his thigh.

You straddle him, gasping at the feeling of his hard cock right by where you needed him. Bucky kissed your neck, sucking softly around to find what spots made you weak.

“I bet she likes it right under her ear, Barnes.”

He quickly moved his lips to the spot and sure enough, it made you whimper. You shift in his lap, slightly grinding against him.

His hands fall to your ass, rubbing the skin and pushing you forward to continue grinding.

“Now, flower, look at his lips. What do they look like?”

Sylvie asked and Bucky pulled his head from your neck. You hold his jaw in your hand and gaze across his lips.

“Wet. Redder than usual.”

Sylvie hums as a response.

“Do you think those lips would feel good on your clit?”

You gasp at her words and Bucky smirks.

“I know they would,” Bucky remarks and Sylvie tsks at him.

“I’m not talking to you, Barnes. Be quiet.”

That wipes the smirk off of his face, but does not stop you from smiling.

“They would feel good.”

You answer, and Sylvie hums again.

“You wanna make them more wet? Spit on his lips. Don’t open your mouth, Barnes. You don’t deserve her spit in your mouth right now.”

Bucky groans and you swallow hard, suddenly a little nervous.

Sylvie seems to sense this and you feel her presence behind you. Her hands slide up your arms to your shoulders and she leans her lips close to your ear.

“It’s okay, flower. You’re already doing so good. I know you want to see Buck become a mess, so do it when you’re ready.”

Her praise really does things for you. You grip Bucky’s jaw tighter, his eyes blown out as he looks up at you.

You gather saliva in your mouth and spit directly onto his lips. He has a hard time keeping them closed, but he does it.

“Smear it against his lips now,” Sylvie says, still standing behind you. Using your thumb, you rub your spit onto his lips. Bucky takes a deep breath, probably trying to control himself.

“Do it again.”

You go through the motions once more, but as you smear the wetness across Bucky’s lips, he can’t help himself anymore. He takes your thumb into his mouth and sucks on it lightly.

You pull your thumb away from him and he whimpers.

“He didn’t listen. What are you going to do about it flower? Slap him? That would be sexy.”

“He would like it though, so not a punishment,” you say and Sylvie smiles.

“Hm you’re learning, honey.”

Sylvie places a kiss on your shoulder, the first time her lips have touched your skin so far.

“He does want to cum. He’s pressing so hard against me.”

Sylvie nods, “then we’ll edge him. He needs to put those pretty lips on you first anyways, right Barnes?”

“Yeah, right,” he stumbles out after clearing his throat.

“Switch spots and take the swimsuit off, flower” Sylvie commands.

You hop off of Bucky’s lap, slowly slipping off the bathing suit. You felt the stares of Bucky and Sylvie bore into your body, but Sylvie’s soft smile made you feel more comfortable.

You sit at the edge of the bed. Sylvie leans close so she could whisper only to you.

“Tell him to kneel,” she says. Your brow raises at her and she nods. Looking back at Bucky, you spread your legs, noticing how a blush is coating his cheeks.

“Kneel,” you say, not as confident as you would have hoped, but it still affects Bucky.

You could almost see how it made his cock twitch. Bucky drops to his knees, moving in between your legs.

“No touching,” Sylvie tells him and continues “only use your mouth. Make her cum.”

You rest one hand on Bucky’s head, close to tugging at it again when he immediately places his lips on your cunt. His tongue rolls through your folds as if he’s testing what feels good.

“Pull on his hair, flower. Use his mouth to get off.”

Bucky moans against you as you tug at his hair, pushing his face closer to your pussy. His tongue flicks at your entrance, his nose bumping against your clit. You slowly start to move your hips, using his face, just how Sylvie told you.

“That’s it, flower. Fuck he’s really into your cunt,” Sylvie says, sitting next to you on the bed. She was right, even though you were moving against Bucky’s mouth, he was devouring you.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking harshly, moaning whenever you gasped out his name.

“She’s close, Barnes.” Sylvie did not need to say it, but hearing it made you moan louder.

“That’s a bit too loud, honey,” she mumbles before turning your head and crashing her lips onto yours in a messy kiss.

The kiss combined with Bucky’s mouth sent you over the edge, your body exploding in pleasure. Sylvie pulls away and runs her thumb over your lip.

“Such a good girl. That felt good?”

You nod, not trusting your voice. Sylvie smiles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, then the other. She trails wet kisses back to your lips and licks into your mouth.

“Am I going to get something now?”

You pull away from the kiss to look at Bucky, still on his knees, his cock still frustratingly hard.

“Don’t give us an attitude, Barnes. You’ll get your turn when we feel like it. Go sit on the chair,” Sylvie motions to the desk chair and Bucky begrudgingly takes a seat.

Even though he looks a little annoyed, he’s truly loving this. Loving that you were finally getting to do things with Sylvie...loving that he was making you feel good...and now...loving to watch.

“Can he touch himself?”

You ask, as if reading his mind.

“Your choice, flower.”

“Beg for it, Bucky.” Sylvie is surprised at your tone, but she smirks, looking expectantly at him.

“Let me touch myself, please. ‘M achin.”

His voice breaks a little and you can’t tell if he did it on purpose or not, but it does send a jolt of pleasure throughout your body.

“Go ahead.”

“But don’t cum,” Sylvie warns and she rids herself of her shorts and underwear. Bucky follows suit, taking his trunks off and grasping his cock in his hand.

“Do you want to touch me, honey?”

You nod and she points to the ground. Settling between her legs, your lips ghost over her clit. You look up at her.

“Spit on my cunt,” she says.

Bucky groans behind you and you have an urge to look at him.

You let your spit dribble onto her pussy, maintaining eye contact with her. It’s just now that you remember how insane this was, how bad it may be, but it’s felt so good.

Using your fingers, you spread the wetness on her cunt, smiling to yourself at the little noises she’s trying to keep hushed.

You prod one finger at her entrance, then slowly ease it in, locking your lips onto her clit. You suck lightly at first, trying to build up her release.

“You see how good she is at this, Barnes? Bet you want her lips on your cock, hm?”

You can’t see exactly how he responds, but you do catch a hurried curse under his breath and a wet slick of him stroking his cock.

You add another finger, Sylvie’s thighs squeeze against your head.

You curl them in sync with the sucking on her clit until she’s moaning your name and riding out her high. She bends down to kiss you, groaning at the taste of herself.

“Please let me fuck her,” Bucky whines and you both turn to look at him. He’s completely naked and flushed, his cock resting against his abdomen.

“Seems like he learned his manners,” Sylvie whispers to you, making you giggle.

“How do you want her, Barnes?”

Bucky contemplates, then stands up. He helps you up from the ground.

“Want her from behind,” he says, a low rasp in his voice.

“Do you want that, flower?”

You smile and jump on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees.

You wiggle your ass a bit at him and Sylvie playfully smacks it, causing you to laugh.

“Still can’t cum until we say so,” Sylvie reminds him and then turns to you, “but you could cum whenever you want, honey.”

With that, Sylvie sits back at the desk chair to watch.

Bucky holds his cock by the base and rubs the tip up and down your cunt.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growls, coating his dick in your wetness. You whine as he keeps teasing the tip at his entrance.

A few more strokes and Bucky pushes into you.

You both moan and Sylvie shushes the two of you.

“Please do remember there is a party going on,” she says and Bucky takes a moment to control himself.

The way you clench around him as he pushes himself into the hilt was enough to send him over the edge. But he held that back, focused on making you cum as quickly as possible.

He grips your hips as he steadily pulls out, then glides back in, creating a smooth rhythm. The sound of skin slapping and your short gasps fills the room.

“Spank her a little, Barnes. Not too hard though.”

Bucky does so, softly hitting your cheek and almost doubling over at how much you squeeze him when he does it again.

“Fuck, flower,” he grunts, picking up his pace.

You grip at the sheets beneath you and lower one hand to toy with your clit, still sensitive from when Bucky made you cum earlier.

“Talk dirty to her, I think she likes it,” Sylvie comments as Bucky leans down and swats your hand away to replace it with his own.

He rubs even faster circles on your clit.

“Can you feel how deep I am inside you? Bet you’ve been dreaming about this cock for a while yeah? Just like how you’ve dreamt of Sylvie.”

You whine at that, embarrassment threatening to flood in, but that’s quickly taken away when you hear Sylvie say “That’s cute, honey. I hope you dream of me more after this.”

Bucky pounds into you mercilessly, his fingers never letting up until you cry out his name a bit too loud.

He doesn’t seem to care and fucks you through your second orgasm, watching as you try to catch your breath.

“Help her to her knees, Buck.”

Bucky pulls out of you and you let out a small hiss at the emptiness. You’re tired, but you move quickly anyway, resting on your knees on the ground. Bucky’s cock was dripping with you and the little bit of precum that managed to escape.

Sylvie stands beside him, sliding her hand down his chest, then gripping his cock. Bucky throws his head back in a groan.

“Look at her, Barnes. She’s a little whore, isn’t she?”

Bucky moans, both at Sylvie’s words and the look you’re giving him.

“I think she wants your cum…” Sylvie trails off and looks at you.

It’s crazy how you feel like you know what she wants you to do...without her even saying it. You put your hands on Bucky’s thighs, feeling him tremble slightly.

Soon your mouth is open and you stick your tongue out, pleasantly waiting for him.

Sylvie jerks him off faster. What pushes him over the edge is your hand drifting up from his thigh to cup his balls.

His cum spills out of him, most of it landing on your tongue, but some onto your cheek as well.

“That’s a lot of cum for her, Barnes. Think she likes it?”

Bucky’s eyes struggle to stay open as he’s riding out his high, but he manages to watch as you swallow what was in your mouth. You wipe the rest of his cum off with your fingers and put them in your mouth, sucking them clean.

“Shit,” Bucky groans and you giggle.

You stand up and reach for your blanket, all of a sudden feeling a little cold completely naked. Bucky joins you on the bed.

“You didn’t really get to fuck anyone,” Bucky directs at Sylvie and she shrugs.

“We can’t spend too much time here. Besides, you both did well, I need to give you a reward next time.”

“Next time?”

You ask and she nods, smiling, leaning in close to you, her lips mere centimeters away.

“Of course, if that’s something you, or both of you want,” she mutters.

Sylvie is about to walk out of the door when Bucky says “I know flower here will definitely want more, you don’t even know how many times she’s told me about wanting to kiss you.”

“Bucky!”

You slap his arm and he cackles, laying back against your bed. Sylvie laughs too and sends you a wink before retreating.

Bucky’s gazing at you when you turn to him.

“What the fuck happened,” he jokes and you shake your head, snuggling onto his chest.

“Dreams came true?”

[malereader-inserts]

Even Though it Hurts

Fandom: Harry Potter Pairing: Remus Lupin & Son!Reader Summary: You have a will power than no other. Word Count: 2,032 Request: “ Hi, I love your writing so much. Can you do dad!Remus Lupin x son!reader, where the reader is in secret relationship with Seamus and Remus find out? Just some super angsty story, cuz I live for angst (I knew Remus will be supporting parent). Thank you✨” A/n: Okay, I tried my best to make it angsty. WARNING: homophobia, homophobic slur, anxiety 

It’s not like you wanted your dad to know. 

You didn’t really know what was going through your mind, really, because you know your old man. Your dad was a loving father, he supported you in anything you had interested in. If you were into potions, he would try and get to a little chemistry set - muggle kind that wouldn’t end up exploding the house. If you were into muggle history, he would take you to the museums wherever you lived at that moment. 

If you were interested in quidditch, he would give you books about the history of quidditch and the rule book. He even tried to get to a broom with his own money, but he had to dip into your mother’s money (which was reserved for you and anything you wanted, it was open to Remus as well because before she died she really loved Remus.) 

But, you weren’t sure if he would support you in a new revelation of yourself.

That included kissing pretty boys in the corners late at night. 

Granted, when you spent a summer with Remus and Sirius, they talked about how they had a relationship before Remus got with your mother and Sirius whored about.

Still, it was something you were terribly scared of. Your best friends have tried convincing you and settle your racing mind that you were overthinking it and that Remus would love you no matter what you were or have done.

“You take your time, babe, but I don’t know why you’re stressin’. Your dad is sound and he’ll take the news fine!” Your boyfriend says as you sighed, closing your book. 

“Everyone is saying that Seamus, but that doesn’t eliminate the slight possibility that he wouldn’t approve.”

“I think it does, (Y/n),” Seamus replied, giving you a pointed look, “Why are you so afraid?”

You stare at your boyfriend, “I’m going to bed.” 

“Wha-?”

“Night.”

Seamus watches you tuck yourself in bed, moving the pillows around you so that your boyfriend could slip into bed with you. You flick your wand to turn off the lights as Seamus watches you dumbfounded.

You rubbed your hand as you make it to your next class, which was transfiguration, you smiled at your boyfriend - managing to give him a kiss on the cheek as he flushed red. You moved to stand with Ron and Harry as Dean teases Seamus.

“A minute to the hour, what took you so long?” Ron asked you as you shrugged your shoulder.

“Caught up in the library, sorry,” You replied as you sat down.

Harry was next to Ron as you sat down next to Seamus, who was jabbing you in the side trying to get your attention. McGonagall starts the lesson and Hermione randomly appearing out of nowhere. No one batted an eye throughout that lesson, it was a double before the end of the day.

So, when the lesson finishes, McGonagall calls you to stay behind. You tell Harry, Ron and Hermione not to fuss over you as you held Seamus’ hand a bit longer. Seamus was the last to leave, giving you a supportive look because as much as McGonagall was lovely - she sure can be intimidating.

“Mr Lupin,” she says, calling you over to her desk as you meekly pulled your shoulder bag further onto your shoulder as you walk towards her, “Have a biscuit.”

“I’m okay, Professor,” you replied.

She narrows her eyes, “What was the punishment she gave you.”

Of course, your head of the house would clock on. She had seen how happy you were at the end of the fourth year, how you were so comfortable with showing off that Seamus was yours. She could tell there was a behaviour change in you because as the fifth year started - she knew you weren’t stressed about the subjects.

You were a smart kid, but this was something concerning. You avoided being seen with Seamus unless it was in the privacy of the common room and the bedroom.

“Let me see your hand,” She held her hand out and you knew you had to comply because she wouldn’t let you out of the room.

You gave her your non-dominate hand as she examines the injury. She didn’t like how it was still red, it told her that it was a fresh open wound as bruises started to surround the vile words.

“(Y/n)...”

She looks up at you and you already had started to sob, it was almost her motherly instinct that kicked in as she abruptly stood up and beckoned you to sit down as she soothes your back. 

“It wasn’t bad at first, you know?” You started to explain, “At first they were about dad and how he was a werewolf.”

McGonagall could see the scarring of the old sentence you had to write, “WEREWOLVES ARE VILE MONSTERS.”

She watches you cry harder as you started to hiccup, with a flick of her wand, a glass of water was starting to make way towards you.

“Catch your breathing, darling,” She says to you, rubbing your back, “I guess the wench found out about you and-?”

You chuckled, surprising her because honestly you hadn’t expected so much venom from a well-kept woman like Professor McGonagall and you weren’t expecting her to comfortably call Umbridge names. 

“Yes, she called me in first, gave me the option to either take the punishment or let Seamus. I couldn’t let him do that, and then she told me not to say a word to dad because if she found out, she- she...”

McGonagall could and would throw her shit if she could. No-one should be able to harm the students at all cost, Hogwarts was a place of safety and inducing fear in the students was the last thing she wanted. 

You hiccupped, “She would find where dad would be and make sure he would pay for his actions - I don’t know what she would charge my dad with, but, I can’t lose my dad like I have with my mother. He’s all I have left. I can’t hurt my dad, I can’t hurt my boyfriend, even if it kills me.”

She stares at you in silence, because a young teenager shouldn’t have to think like that.

“Alright, I’ll write you off for the rest of the week, and let me bandage your hand.”

Perhaps you were terrified to tell your dad about the punishment you have to endure, perhaps you were terrified how your dad would react that you rather endure pain and homophobia than tell him. You know that your dad would lose his cool.

McGonagall tends to your wound, she doesn’t want to see the nasty words on your hand and she knows full well you didn’t want to either. 

You leave her classroom to go back to bed, luckily, it was nearing Christmas so Christmas break was soon to come. 

You spent many days talking to McGonagall, she couldn’t stop you from going to detention, so no matter how many bandages you go through, you could feel the pain of two sentences branded on you.

“WEREWOLVES ARE VILES MONSTERS.”

“I AM A DISGUSTING FAGGOT.”

You managed to go home early due to the attack on the Wesley family, as you were considered part of their family as well as Hermione and Harry, they allowed you to go home - home as in the base of the Order. 

You weren’t sure how to confront your dad as you tried spending your time sending letters to Seamus. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

You slammed your hand down on the desk as your head the voice before meekly turning around to see your dad, raising a concerned eyebrow.

“You scared me,” You sighed out, putting your feather down into the ink, “Announce your presence at least dad!”

Your dad chuckled, “I apologise, next time I will knock before speaking.”

You smiled as you turn yourself to look at him as he slowly enters the room, he wonders why you were cooped up in the room. Hermione was often seen downstairs reading a book whilst Ron and Harry was busy with themselves. But, you, you rather stay in your room.

“Are you ill?”

“Partly,” You responded far too quickly, you were nervous for some reason - the same nerves that ran down your back when you were in Umbridge’s office. 

When you were in “detention” she would rather have you answer quickly, you feared too much that you would reprimand. You pulled your sleeves down just to cover your hands.

“Running a bit of a fever, I’ll just sleep it off, dad.”

“(Y/n),” Remus narrowed his eyes at you, his chilled son that was much more of an anxious mess, “What’s going on? I’ve noticed that you’re sporting the same bandage as the twins and Harry.”

“Well-”

“And they told me it was because of Umbridge,” Remus continues, not meaning to interrupt you, “Son, what did she make you write?”

Remus hated the woman after she was the one to put up the suggestion on the law of werewolves, he would hate himself, but the tears confirmed his fears.

“I’m sorry!” You cried, looking down to cover your face with your hands.

“Shh, my boy,” Remus strides to give you a hug, he kneels in front of you as he lightly grabbed your hand, “May I?”

You sniffled and slightly nodded, you allowed your dad to wrap the greyish bandage. He didn’t know what he was expected, but the words that were scarred into you was worst than he thought. He wanted to throw up, he could understand the werewolf one - you are paying for his condition.

“Can you explain to me the other-?”

“Please don’t hate me!” That was your immediate response.

It wasn’t the confident response that Remus has in mind, he didn’t care if you were gay - you were still his son and he wouldn’t see you any differently. After all, he was a werewolf and you didn’t care at all - and he was considered a threat. 

He hoped that if you ever had the need to come out to him, he was expecting you to send him a letter that you were bringing home your boyfriend to meet him because you were so confident that your dad would welcome him with open arms. But, not this.

“(Y/n), I would never hate you for being gay,” Remus spoke firmly, “I love you with all my heart and you liking boys wouldn’t change the fact.”

“But-”

“My darling boy,” He says softly, “Were you afraid of my reaction because of the fear that Umbridge had instilled in you?”

You didn’t respond but that was enough for him to understand the situation as he sighs, rubbing his thumb on your forehead before bringing it close to his lips, placing a family peck upon your temple.

“I’m not mad nor will ever be mad, okay?” You nodded, it doesn’t settle the anxiety in you and Remus knows that, “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

Remus changes the topic, get you to relax first before forwarding the situation with you and the fear you had. You looked at him confused at the sudden change of topic before softly smiling to yourself at the thought of your boyfriend.

“It’s Seamus.”

“Seamus?” Remus says, narrowing his eyes, “The pyromantic maniac?”

You nod.

“Well, I guess it’s not Draco,” Remus says as you smiled at your dad, who gives you the same loving smile, “Though, when we’re able to have visitors - we’re not allowing Seamus to use magic. I cannot risk having someone blowing up the house!”

“I mean, that is fair,” You agreed with him, Remus chuckles, “You promise you’re not mad?”

“There’s nothing to be mad about, son, now are you more comfortable to talk about your hand?”

You looked at him, it was now or later and you didn’t want to experience the dread of that conversation. You take a deep inhale and exhale before giving Remus a nod. Your dad perched himself on your bed, preparing to hear your story. 

“I want to hear how you and Seamus got together first, actually.” 

“Really dad?”