#i can still remember how to do wrist locks and stuff… but no one allows me to try ‘em out on them these days s o b s

[deus-ex-mona]

forgot i wrote this till today lol but ny aizo’s cg still lives rent free in my mind

never forget t h e

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36125263

hi, i cobbled this thing together to cope with my hakama obsession.

happy aiyuu new year!!!!

[locker42]

Hey hey what’s up

Just wondering if u could do one where Luke comes back and is furious that jj trashed the pills. After jj has to feel the aftermath of Lukes rage, Y/N finds  him hurt and angry and they get into a really bad  argument.  to which Y/N goes to Lukes place without JJ or the others knowing to confront Luke/ or secretly get Jjs stuff and ends up getting beaten up?

Something into that direction would be great 

Shitty Father

Warnings: swearing, violence, abuse, injuries.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Kook!reader.

Word count: 4702.

Masterlist.

Sorry it took me so long, had quite a lot going on. Gonna start posting again!

It wasn’t unlike JJ to disappear for three days but it still worried you every time. Because you knew it had something to do with his dad - it always had. All the times he came to your window, face all bruised up and bloody, holding his tears in. There were too many times. You wanted to go to his house and check on him, however after remembering his warnings about coming anywhere near his house, you hesitated.

As you drove towards the Chateau the only thought in your head was if JJ was alright. You hated the feeling in your stomach, because you knew something was wrong. You haven’t seen your boyfriend in three days, and with every passing hour your worry grew.

After locking your car you walked up the stairs to the porch of the Chateau. What you did not expect to find there was JJ, sitting on the couch with his hands in his hair. You walked towards him slowly, careful not to make any loud noises. “JJ.” You called quietly, but it was enough for him to lift his head up.

You almost gasped when you saw the purple bruised around his swollen eye, the dry blood on his nose and the cut on his lip. There were dry tears on his cheeks and the sight made you want to pull him into your arms and never let go, but you knew better than that.

“Hey,” you started as you slowly knelt in front of him, “can I take care of you?”

He didn’t seem to hear your question as he stared at the floor beneath you. You could hear his rapid breathing and his hands that were gripping his hair to hide the shaking.

“JJ, please.” You tried again, gently bringing your hands to his wrists and pulling them away from his face. He didn’t object and let you lift his head, but his eyes refused to meet yours.

“Let me take care of your injuries. You don’t have to talk to me, just let me help you.”

Still not making eye contact with you he nodded, allowing you to pull him up and lead him towards the bathroom. You already had a first aid kit ready there for when him or John B or any other Pogues would get into a fight. JJ took a seat on the toilet and you knelt on the floor before him. Grabbing the slightly wet gauze you started cleaning his face.

“I’m sorry.”

He whispered, so quietly that you almost missed it.

“Sorry for what, love?”

He lifted his eyes and finally met yours. And it hurt. Because you saw how much pain and sadness were in them. And it hurt you, to know that the person you love most in the whole world was treated the way he was. If just you to see him hurt.

“For disappearing on you, again. You don’t deserve the way I treat you, Y/N. God, you’re so good to me and I’m-“

“Im gonna stop you right there.” You cut him off, stopping your work to clear your hands and to cup both sides of his face, careful around the bruises. “I’m gonna stop you right there because whatever more you are going to say is bullshit. JJ, you are everything to me, and that’s not a small amount. You are the light in my life, the laughter, the happiness. Without you, JJ, we’re all doomed. All the Pogues. You don’t need to apologize about this nor do you need to explain yourself. I love you, that’s why I’m good to you. Because love isn’t about deserving, it’s about giving. And I’m choosing to give you everything because you give me the love that matters the most to me.”

He stared at you for a few second before one tear fell from his eye and down his cheek. You quickly wiped it away with your thumb. He leaned in, placing his lips against yours in a soft yet passionate kiss that delivered all the love he felt toward you.

“I love you so fucking much, you know that?”

“I do. I love you, too, JJ.”

After you cleaned him up you laid on the bed beside him, his head on your chest and your hand in his hair, playing with it. His hand was holding your free one, tracing circles on the back of it. You could hear his breathing, no longer fast and panicked but slow and relaxed. His whole body relaxed against yours and you felt relief at that. Relief that your JJ was right there, with you, safe and protected from all harm. You pressed your lips to his forehead, a small smile rising on your face as he hummed to the little act of love. At that moment you knew that no matter what or where, everything was alright as long as he was by your side.

________

As the sun rose, you were already awake, drowning in thoughts. Although JJ was back you were still haunted by the thoughts of what went down with him in those three days. He’s already agreed on staying at John B’s or yours when things got rough so why was he back home? And why did it take him three days to come back?

Before you could drown yourself in your worries, JJ walked into the kitchen. He was shirtless, all the bruising on his torso exposed. His hair was a mess, part of it because you played with it all night. He walked all the way beside you and hugged you from behind. You smiled, leaning back against him and reaching to rub his arms.

“Good morning, baby. How did you sleep?” You asked, turning in his arms to face him.

“Good, only because you were beside me all night.” He answered with a soft smile and placed a light kiss to your lips. “What about you? What are you doing awake so early?”

“Noting, just thinking.” You shrugged, placing your head under his chin.

“About?” He asked, running his hand through your hair.

“What happened, JJ? When you were gone, what happened?” You dared ask him, lifting your head to look at him. He sighed, letting go of you and running his hand through his hair, leaning on the counter behind him.

“I came back home to get some clothes, but when I was leaving I saw a bottle of pills on the coffee table and I just- I don’t know what I was thinking but I just knew that I didn’t have the energy to deal with one more relapse of his. So I through the pills away and I walked out of the house when he arrived. He noticed the pills were gone and, well..”

He trailed off, and you didn’t need to guess to know what happened next. But it angered you, it angered you that he was still going back there and looking out for him. But most of all, you were burning with hatred for Luke. What kind of father beats their own child? And then he claims to love him.

“I still can’t understand why are you always going back there.” You said, and he immediately sighed, knowing what conversation was ahead. “No, I mean, seriously, JJ. And why didn’t you tell me? God, I could just kill him.”

“You’re not gonna do anything, okay?” He said sternly, grabbing you when you tried to turn around. “Look, I know it’s fucked up but, he’s my dad, Y/N. I can’t just ignore that.”

“He’s you dad? What has he ever done for you?” You challenged, letting your anger and frustration overflow.

“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” He refused, but you were not done.

“Answer me, JJ. You say he’s your father but what kind of father does this? You keep justifying his behavior and standing up for him when any of us say something bad about him. But it’s all true. He’s a no-good, low-life, shifty asshole. I just don’t-“

He didn’t let you finish, grabbing your shoulders tightly.

“Just shut up, okay? You’re not making things better or easier by saying those things. You will never understand it, Y/N.”

You wiggled yourself out of his grip with a frown on your face. “Then help me understand, JJ. Because I can’t stand watching you get hurt all the time, and then you only come back for more.”

“We’re different, okay?” He raised his voice. “You and I,” he pointed, “were different. We come from different worlds. You’re a Kook, as much as you don’t like to admit it, you’re a Kook. You don’t have to deal with this type of shit I deal with. That’s why you will never understand this.”

“Really? You’re pulling the Kook card on me? Why, ‘cause I was born on a different side of the island?” You said, feeling yourself grow angrier.

“Yes!” He yelled. “That’s exactly why. Ever since you’ve been born you’ve been been fed everything with a silver spoon. You have parents who will do anything for you and you have a roof to live under without having to worry about who pays the bills or whether we have water and electricity this month or not. That’s not how people like me live.”

“I know that, JJ.”

At this point, you’ve created a space between you, not wanting to get close to him at the moment.

“I know that there’s an obvious difference between us. But first of all, my parent will not do anything for me, they have proven that the second I started hanging out with you. I’m not saying that we’re the same, I’m saying that I am able to understand what you’re going through-“

“No, you don’t!” He cut you off, making you jump at the raise of his voice. “You don’t understand, Y/N. You know why? Because all your life you’ve been a spoiled Kook who didn’t have a clue that in order to live you have to work. I mean, why would you? Your parents are a pair of arrogant assholes who probably fed you some shit about the low-lifers and about the fact that it’s our fault that we’re living in poverty. Because, admit it, you’ve never really gave a fuck about us Pogues until you met me, is that right?”

You were face to face, closer than you’d like. Your eyes were burning with tears of anger, hurt and frustration. You couldn’t believe he was saying those words. You really thought that he didn’t care about Kook or Pogue, that he cared about your relationship over your status.

“Well, I’m just some spoiled Kook, how would I know?” You said, your voice shaking slightly but you didn’t let it affect the glare you sent him as you moved across to the guest bedroom to get your stuff and get the hell out of there. You were sure John B had heard everything from his room but you didn’t care, all you wanted was to get out of there and far away from JJ.

You walked straight past him as he tried to talk to you, heading to the front door.

“Y/N, please, just let me talk to you.” He continued, but you ignored him. You opened the door and walked to your car, not sparing him a glance as you pulled out of the driveway.

________

You didn’t really believe in hate. You never believed that hating someone would benefit you. It was just intoxicating yourself to the point where you think more about the person you hate than they think about you. You found the whole thing pointless. Luke Maybank, however, was an exception. You hated that man with all your heart. Having witnessed all the pain he had caused to the man you loved most in the world. So when you walked into the small market by your neighborhood, your eyes immediately located Luke. He was standing in front of the alcohol isle, browsing through the different kinds with his eyes. His eyes, that were red from whatever drug he took this time. Unfortunately for you, you needed milk, which was right by the end of that isle. So, instead of going straight you turned right and made a detour to get to the fridge. You opened the glass door and sighed as the coolness seeping from the fridge, which was the total opposite of the weather outside. You picked up one gallon of milk and put it in your basket.

“Y/N L/N, there’s a girl I thought I’ll never see again.”

You heard a hoarse voice from behind you, sending chills down your spine as you immediately recognized it to be Luke’s. You slowly turned around, having no intention of starting a conversation with the man.

“What do you want?” You asked sharply, sending him a glare.

“Well, aren’t you a feisty one?” He said with a smirk, and you felt nauseous just by looking at him.

You moved to walked past him but he was quick to grab your arm, pulling you back.

“Where are you going? I need to ask you something about that little shit.”

You rolled your eyes.

“First let me go or I’ll scream.” You threatened, but the only response you got was a chuckle.

“Where is JJ? He hasn’t been home in a few days.”

You shuddered at the thought of him ever reaching JJ and very much possibly putting his hands on him.

“I don’t know, and even if I did why would I tell you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a shitty excuse of a father, Luke. Or moreover, you’re a piece of shit. You don’t deserve to have JJ as your son because all you do is hurt him. So no, I’m not going to tell you where he is.” You pulled your arm out of his strong grip and pushed past him, leaving him behind as you quickly paid for your things and walked out of there to your car, desperate to get as far away from him as possible.

You prayers weren’t answered, as Luke opened the passenger door and got inside the car. You heart started beating fast and you gasped as you saw a gun in his hand - aimed at you.

“You think you can just talk to me like that and I’ll let it happen? Who do you think I am? Some bitch like your little boyfriend?!” He raised his voice, pressing the gun to your stomach.

“Luke, this is ridiculous. Just get out of the car and I’ll leave, I promise.” You said, trying not to let your fear show.

“No, I got a better idea.” With his free hand, he put the car in drive, forcing you to press on the breaks. “You and I are gonna take a little trip back to my place, and there we’re gonna wait for JJ to come back. I bet he’ll run straight home once he found out you’re with me.”

“Okay,” you said, handing gripping the wheel tightly to prevent your hand from shaking, “I’ll go there, just put down the gun, please.”

“Why, so you could do whatever you want? Nah, this gun stays on you until you’re sitting on my couch in my living room.” He said and pressed the gun even harder against your side, making you clench your jaw. “Now drive, bitch.”

Your drive slowly, trying to stall as much as you could but he quickly noticed and aimed the gun to your head to make you speed up. You have never been more terrified in your life. This was your longest interaction with Luke, and you had no idea what he was capable of, especially under the influence.

After you parked the car in the driveway Luke got out of the car and walked to your side, opening the door and pulling you out of the car. He dragged you up the stairs and opened the front door, pushing you inside the house. You fell onto the floor, trying to get up but he kicked you, pressing his boot down on your back, making you yell out in pain.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going, huh?!” He yelled. He then grabbed you from your hair and pulled you to the couch. “Now, you’re gonna sit there and shut up.”

He walked over to the kitchen counter, opening the cupboard and pulling out a bottle of cheap whiskey. He poured some into a glass and then turned to you. “You want anything to drink?”

You shook your head, refusing to talk to him.

“Hey, use you goddamn words.” He said sternly, grabbing two glasses from the counter and walking over to you. “You’re almost as bad as JJ.”

As much as you wanted to shut up and not make him even angrier, you had to control your own anger. Because nothing made you angrier than the man that was sitting next to you.

“Here,” he said and handed you a glass of whiskey, “be a good girl and drink.”

“I don’t want to.” You said calmly.

“Well, I didn’t quite ask you. And when I did you didn’t answer.”

You swallowed thickly before taking a small sip from the glass, feeling the burning sensation down your throat.

“That a girl. You know, I will never understand what you see in that boy.” He said and took a sip of his own beverage.

“Maybe that’s ‘cause you spend all your time with him beating him.”

You knew you shouldn’t have said anything the moment he grabbed your neck, but it was too late.

“What did you say to me?!” He asked and tightened his grip on your throat.

“What? That a surprise to you? I saw your knuckles, it’s no secret that you’re an abusive asshole.” You said, voice straining as he choked you.

“Fucking bitch.” He muttered before pushing you down go the floor, the glass falling from your hand and shattering into the wooden floor. He turned you around, and before you could comprehend what was happening he sent a punch to your jaw.

“You don’t talk to me like that, understand?!” He yelled before dragging you up and slamming your body against the wall. “There will be a price to pay.”

The sent another punch to your stomach and you bent forward from the pain, all the air leaving your body.

“Pathetic slut, can’t even take some beatin’.”

His words fueled you and you finally found the power to fight back. You used all your momentum to push him away from you, and then you tried running for the door. But he was too quick and you were too slow. He grabbed you hair and spun you to face him, his face inches from yours.

“You think you can just run away? Well then let me tell you something. You ain’t leavin’ til my son gets here. And when he does I’ll let you go, but he stays here.” He was gripping your face with his hand, making you wince as his nails dug into your skin.

“Why? So you could hit him a little more? You’re just a sad, lonely man who takes his pain out on his son - the only person he has left.” You snapped. “You think I’m pathetic? Just look at your own life, man.”

He laughed, another hand now gripping in by you hair, pulling your face closer to his. “You’re gonna regret that.”

His psychotic smile was the last thing you saw before her dropped you to the floor, slamming your head against the coffee table.

You work up at the sound of glass shuttering and yelling. You sat up, your hand going to the cut you had on the side of your forehead. You winced at the headache, looking down at your hand and seeing blood on it. You looked around the room and figured you were in JJ’s room, on the bed.

“You fucking no-good piece of shit.”

You heard from outside the room. You stood up, leaning on the wall to not fall down from the dizziness that flooded your head. You slowly walked towards the door and opened it, the noises getting louder. You peeked down the hallway, and almost gasped at the sight of JJ pinned down to the floor, Luke above him, delivering punch after punch. You started walking towards them as quietly as you could, picking up a beer bottle from the kitchen and slamming it onto Luke’s head. He stopped his punching, and you took it as an opportunity to push him off JJ. You crouched down next to him, cupping his face in your hands.

“JJ, are you okay?”

He looked at you in utter surprise, clearly not expecting you to be there.

“Y-Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?!” He asked in a panicked voice.

“Long story. Come on, we need to leave.” You said and tried to pull him up with you, but he stopped you. “JJ, come on, we need to-“

You were cut off by two arms pulling you away from JJ and pushing you against the wall.

“No!” JJ yelled, trying to stand up. “Don’t you fucking touch her.”

Luke didn’t listen to him and turned to you.

“Well, look who’s awake.” He said with a smile.

“Fuck you.” You spat, trying to get loose of his grip.

“You have a really dirty mouth, sweetheart. Time to clean it up, don’t you think?”

Before you could object he was already punching you, blood running down from your nose. He raised his hand to deliver another one but JJ caught it.

“Let her go.” He said through clenched teeth. “Get the fuck off her or I’ll fucking kill you.”

He wrapped his arms around his father’s neck and choked him. You took the opportunity the slid away from his arms. You ducked down and picked up a big piece of glass from the floor and pressed it against Luke’s throat.

“You let us both go, right now.” You demanded, but he only laughed.

“I don’t think you have the guts to kill me, baby girl.”

From behind him, JJ squeezed his throat harder. “Don’t even fucking talk to her.”

He dropped him to the floor and slammed another beer bottle to his head, knocking him out cold. He turned to you, the glass was still in your shaking hand and your face was frozen. He walked to you and took the glass out of your grip, discarding it to the floor. He pulled you into him, whispering ‘you’re okay’ over and over again and you were pretty sure those words were meant for himself. He pulled away and grabbed your hand.

“Let’s go, we can talk about this at the Chateau.”

You both walked out of the house and to your car. You let him drive to John B’s place, knowing you couldn’t drive at the moment. You were both silent the whole drive, however a hand on your thigh kept you calm. He parked the car, but made no move to get out. Instead, he moved his gaze to you. Your gaze was focused on the Chateau rather than on him, hand fiddling in your lap.

“Y/N…” he said quietly, hesitation clear in his voice. “Let’s get you inside so I can take care of you, okay?”

You knew it wasn’t what he wanted to say, your current state was probably the reason he changed his words. You nodded your head, opening the door and getting out of the car. He was by our side after only a second, wrapping his arm around you and telling you that you could lean on him if you needed. As you made your way inside the Chateau, the pain in your stomach and all the other places Luke hit you started to hurt more and more. JJ opened the screen door, stepping aside the let you walk in first. You saw John B sitting on the couch, a questioning look on his face as he saw your face. You didn’t pay him any mind and just kept walking towards the bathroom, JJ right behind you. You sat on top of the counter and waited silently as JJ began taking care of your cuts.

“I know it’s usually you who’s in this position, so I just hope I’ll do a good job.” He tried to joke with half a smile, but you didn’t respond.

He sighed. “Look, Y/N, I know you probably don’t want to talk about this but, baby, I need to know what happened. You had me so fucking worried when I saw you there.”

You took in a breath, trying to find the words to describe what happened.

“I was at the supermarket, and he was there. I tried to avoid him but he saw me anyway. He started talking to me and he mentioned you and I just-“ you paused, running your hand through your hair. “I just couldn’t let him. I got so mad, J. I told him that he was a piece of shut and walked out of there. I got inside the car and he got in after me, a gun pulled out and aimed at me.”

“Fuck.” He cursed, dropping his head low. He couldn’t believe his father did that to you - that he dared aiming a gun at you.

“He told me to drive to your house so I did, and there he told me to sit on the couch. He offered me a drink and told me to ‘be a good girl and drink’.” You quoted, noting how JJ’s face stayed still, jaw clenching in anger and eyes fixed on the wall behind you. “I drank. And then he started talking about you again and how he didn’t see what I saw in you. I muttered some response and then he- well, started hitting me. Then he banged my head against the coffee table and I passed out.”

JJ stepped away from you, running his hands through his hair and down his face, leaning on the opposite wall. He cursed quietly before leaning back and punching the wall.

“JJ.” You tried, but he paid no mind, throwing another punch to the wall. “JJ, stop, you’re just gonna hurt yourself.” You raised your voice a little, standing up and pulling him towards you. His eyes were filled with tears, reflecting the anger behind them. “Calm down, please.”

“I can’t, I can’t, Y/N. I can’t just calm down when I know what he did to you. I’m gonna fucking kill him for even touching you.”

He tried to pull away again but you didn’t let him, cupping his face to make him look at you. “JJ, I’m okay, I’m fine. He didn’t hurt me that bad.”

“But he hurt you. He hurt you and he knew how much you fucking mean to me. I can’t just let that go.” He explained, cupping your head, looking at you like you were his life. “I can’t deal with the thought of him hurting you.”

“I know, trust me I know.”

You actually did know. You knew exactly how he felt because you felt the exact same thing whenever you saw the damage Luke did. You felt the same anger and the same urge to kill him for even touching him. But you couldn’t let him spiral out of control - not now.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He said, placing a kiss to your cheek. “And I’m so fucking sorry for what I said to you. I had no right to tell you those things. Baby, I’m so sorry.”

“I know, J. It’s okay, I forgive you. And I love you, too.”

You rose to your tiptoes and kissed him gently. He grabbed your waist and deepened the kiss, running his tongue against yours. You hummed in delight, running your fingers through his soft hair. You were truly lucky to have found someone that you truly love, and that he truly loved you.

“It’s all good now, J.”

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Got You, Little Wolf (Reader x Tywin)

Look man I did my best for this so please cut me some slack, I really do hope you guys like it cause I went through a writers block while trying to do it.

“You are a stark, that’s all that matters to me”

“Father said you were also a soldier, the only woman he is afraid of when she is around sharp objects”

“Good, your father needs to be afraid of something”

“You always speak of the north yet you never say why you came here”

“I was a prisoner sweet boy, I was brought in front of you father by a guard who dragged me in the castle”

“What?”

“Allow me to explain my little wolf”

-

“Let me go you bastard”

The hound ignored the girls empty threats as he held on to her upper arm with an iron grip before he left her to crumble at the floor in front of the king and queen mother. (Y/n) lifted herself up to get on her feet, her hands were tied with a rope already bruising her wrists, still (y/n)s eyes burned with anger as she viewed the young boy that sat on the throne in an arrogant manner.

“There she is, the young wolf, (y/n) stark the twin of robb”

“Did you drag me here to show you know my family history line or are you just surprised you can remember stuff?”

“How dare you speak to your king like that”

“The north knows no king expect the king of the north, my family that you slaughtered”

She spat back, she herself was even surprised they brought her here before they execute her like they did her father, she had made peace with dying when she saw her twin brother lay dead at his own wedding, however she would not go down without giving them a piece of her mind.

“Your treacherous family betrayed my father and you were stupid enough to think you could go against us”

“Were you dropped on your head as a child? Cause certainly there is no way you actually believe that you are so invisible because your fat ass sits on a big chair, useless little boy”

“You will pay for this you bitch”

Joffrey marched at the girl to strike her in his mind he wanted to teach her a lesson for her insults, he had not gotten far when he got interrupted by the doors agape revealing his grandfather, the hand of the king.

Tywin took a few steps and investigated the scene, it seemed like the stark had already caused a stir, her dress was tarnished and she was in much need of a proper bath, mud or smoke staining her skin, what he also noticed was that the stark showed no signs of fear, she held eye contact with the old lion with her back straight in perfect line.

The moment that Tywin came close her face scowled with hatred, Tywin could not remember the last time someone showed their true feelings towards him, it was almost refreshing to see.

“The young wolf in chains, what a glorious sight”

“I am glad you find this entertaining old man”

“Careful now, that is not a way to speak to your future lord husband”

“What?”

Joffrey and (y/n) said in unison. Tywin remained stoic as usual, foolishly and arrogantly Tywin moved his hand up to touch her chin only for him to quickly retreat it to protect his finger from (y/n)s teeth, the wretched Stark tried to bite him. The room roared with Tywins laughter, Joffrey shared a look of worry with his mother, neither Cersei or Joffrey had seen him laugh like this.

“You don’t only bark but you also bite, such a clever girl, you will make a wonderful lady of the rock”

“I would rather pull out my own womb and eat it than marry a Lannister”

“I am afraid you have no choice, marry or die along with your sisters, you may not care about your life but do you really want your sisters to come with you?”

-

Like most tales start, the princess was locked in a tower, sadly the Prince Charming was nowhere near and the monster -in this case the lion- would be taking his place. The fury in her burned her chest, she had tried everything, restrain from eating, threatening to jump off the tower, attack the guards, Tywin was always one step ahead.

Although the lord hand was smart, he was not a woman, to be a woman meant you had the natural skill of landing jabs under the belt, jabs that a man would never consider still they were the ones that hurt the most.

(Y/n) was seen smiling bright at their wedding ceremony, guzzling wine and dancing with every lord that had thrown themselves to dance with the young she-wolf, the dress was an excellent choice and in combination with her hair she looked like the embodiment of a fairytale.

Tywin could not believe his eyes, the girl had offered her time and smiled to every lord except her, he was ready to drag her out of here in front of everyone when the insufferable littlefinger lifted her up in the air by the waist, the bride wooed at the gesture, she was even seen blushing.

Luckily for Tywin, Cersei had stepped up to the Stark girl, interrupting her dance to talk to her new stepmother, a word Cersei would rather cut her tongue herself than say.

“Lady (y/n), welcome to our family, as a stark I would like to know what it is like to be married to a lion?”

“Unnecessary and oddly boring, wolves prefer to stick with their own”

She replied without even sparing a peep at Cersei which infuriated the queen mother, how dare she face the queen mother with such dismissive demeanour

It was bad enough that her father allowed the bitch to live now she took her late mothers place, her new step mother could be her daughter, Cersei always admired her father still she could not wrap her head around the motive behind it.

“I believe it is time for us to go”

“You may go, I wish to stay”

Tywin had allowed her temper to somewhat unleash when it came to Joffrey or Cersei, anyone but him, now his lady wife was dangerously stretching the rope, to play with a lion was as safe as jumping over a fire, he had already extended his kindness by just seeking her out to the dance floor after countless hours and numerous lords being able to touch her, he would not turn a blind eye when she disrespected him further.

(Y/n) yelped when Tywin latched his hand around her bicep as discreetly as possible to force her into walking out by herself, give her the option of keeping her dignity instead of acting the way he truly wanted, she stumbled at first firstly because she was distracted and the other reason was that she had gotten drunk by downing all the goblets of wine she could find since she started getting dressed.

The moment (Y/n) was safely tucked away from the prude eyes of Westeros she protested only to be met by Tywin throwing her over his shoulder, she whined at the impact of her stomach landing on the man’s shoulder with enough force to cause some bruises, quickly the pain was replaced with embarrassment, her face turned as red as roses when she saw servants scurry away while giggling.

“Put me down you old bastard”

She was only met with a smack across her bottom to silence her, instead it caused her irritation to grow, her solution was to start banging the mans back as hard as she possibly could.

Tywin basically threw her across his bed, what he did not expect was for (y/n) to be so quick on her feet and slap him across the face, she was strong enough to make his head turn from the impact, not strong enough to cause more than a decent sting.

(Y/n) rose up to attack Tywin once more, unfortunately for her Tywin was a skilled warrior, he caught her arms and forced her to lay on the bed by putting half of his weight on her.

“I should cut your tongue for that”

(Y/n)s response was to spit on the man’ face, for a split second he considered throwing her to the lions, he resorted with grabbing her by the waist with his one arm and a fistful of hair with the other with her back to his chest.

“Why the hostility little wolf? I offer you a slice of heaven and you throw it back in my face”

“What part of this resembles heaven to you?”

“Our children will rule winterfell, you are the heir of the north, if you kill me war will ensue but if you lean on me and I swear together we’ll prevail”

Winterfell, home. The words made circles in her head as her legs gave up, Tywin slowly let her touch the ground as his hand was still around and the once forceful grip on her hair had gone to a gentle caress of her locks, he had heard of the young wolfs beauty along with her bravery, at the time he had dismissed it, once he heard her bark at Joffrey an act that no one seemed to have the balls to do.

He was mesmerised, such a pretty little thing, the courage she held within her could burn all the seven kingdoms, anyone that had her by her side would be considered lucky, it was at that time that he thought of a wedding with her.

“I got you little wolf”

Call it stupidity or an urge to find home within strangers or just an act of drunkness. (Y/n) peered at the man that held her with such softness, the anger disappeared and tiredness of fighting, of surviving took its place in her heart, she needed to rest, to feel protected.

It had been the first time in years that Tywin was caught off guard by somebody, when (y/n) landed her lips on him he felt like he was thrown into a cold river from the shock, he quickly recovered to respond to her hesitant kiss while he laid her on the ground, Tywin was not known for his patience so it was only natural from him to take out his dagger and rip the gown right in the middle, leaving (y/n)s body exposed.

Tywin caressed her breasts with his fingertips, astonished at how perfect she was, any man would dream of laying with a woman like her, viewing her biting her lip when her hand found his shirt to pull him to her almost felt like he was just dreaming.

They laid on the floor all night, the stark was truly was a starving wolf in all her glory, her thirst and stamina were endless, he had thought she would want to take things at a slow pace, he had been corrected, her temper slowly creeped in as she became rough by the minute.

Tywin relished her when she took the upper hand, she was a delight to watch, listening to her cries of desires aroused him even more, she devoured the man until he had to physically force her to stop, he was certain anyone within the castle would listen to the girls groans and moans of pleasure.

-

“Oh there she is the beautiful lady of the rock”

A young girl approached (y/n) when she sat at the table for breakfast near the garden, to step foot outside your doorstep in the north meant you would have to wear layers of fur, here she could at least enjoy the rays of sunshine with only a light dress.

“It is an honour to meet you lady (y/n), I am margaery tyrell”

“I have heard of you lady margaery, the lady of the roses, it is nice to see another woman close to my age here in the castle”

(Y/n) had waited for the moment she could throw her young age in Cerseis face, her new step daughter was a few steps behind Margaery, the Lannister responded with a tight lipped smile with internal curses directed to (y/n), she was the wife of her father and as powerful as she thought of herself the stark was under the only person Cersei feared, her father.

“Would you mind if I joined you for breakfast?”

“I could use the company, please have a seat, both of you”

The Tyrell girl moved her chair so she can find a seat right next to the new Lannister lady, Margaery expected her to be cheerful especially after the whispers of the couples antics were the servants found the bed covers on the floor, ripped clothing and a dagger laying near by, along with some splashes of blood on the carpet instead of the mattress.

(Y/n) wanted to smash her head against the wall, the wine sounded like a good choice at the time, now her mind was pulsating from sleeping just for a couple of hours, Cersei took the time that (y/n) rubbed her temples with her fingers to examine her.

(Y/n) looked exhausted, she had shrunk in her seat and had even brought her legs up to her chest to shrivel up some more, Cersei never thought she would see the day were another woman made her uncomfortable, the adventurous of her fathers consummated marriage had reached her ears the minute she had gotten out of her bed, she had to hold herself from throwing up at the thought of her father bedding another woman, let alone a Stark.

“Such delicious treats you have here my lady, oh I am parched”

“Not this one”

(Y/n) was suffering from overindulging, thankfully she had managed to master enough strength to act instantly when Margaery went for the small pot of tea (y/n) had specifically requested. Margaery gave a look of confusion to the lady Lannister as Cersei leaned in, what was it that made (y/n) so territorial.

“I’m sorry lady Margaery it is a tea one of house from the north brought for me as a gift, unfortunately the amount was not as grand as it should be, I am savouring it”

“That is alright lady (y/n) it is perfectly normal to be homesick, especially after arriving under such cruel circumstances, I never got the chance to say my condolences”

“Why you honour me my lady, do not beat yourself up over the matter, you are the first and most likely the only one to do so”

Margaerys lips stiffened at the words (y/n) had spoken, instinctively the ginger haired beauty reached to hold the Starks hand, a small sign of alliance and mutual respect, (y/n) was a honourable woman and a defiant character, Margaery had an eye for beauty and a nose for talent, if it was anyone she needed by her side it would be (y/n).

“It is too beautiful of a day to dwell over past events”

“My apologies queen mother, I did not realise my grief over my entire family line would ruin your moment of soaking up the sun”

“(Y/n)!”

You would have to be blind and deaf to not understand that the angry man that was turning over the corner was like a simmer pot overflowing with anger. He had the attention of the three ladies ever since he made his presence known, as he came to the table his first move was to reach over for (y/n)s teapot, (y/n) was the only one that did not move a muscle when the man smashed the pot on the ground, making the liquid spill and stain Cerseis gown.

“Moontea!? You stupid girl, you thought you could ask the servants to smuggle such a herb without me knowing?”

“Leave us”

(Y/n) dismissed the girls and servants, Cersei and Margaery gave them some privacy, leaving the couple right when Tywin walked on her side of the table, with a clean swipe of his arm most of the plates had smashed on the ground and replaced by (y/n), she did not have time to protest when Tywin spread her legs to stand between them, forcefully he gripped her by the chin, their eyes burning holes into one another

“I did what was best for me”

“Is that so? Was that the best choice for your sisters? How long has it been since you saw them last? I suppose the executioner stand could be a nice place for a reunion”

“I will not bring an heir until I am certain you meant what you said last night”

“About winterfell?”

(Y/n) nodded instead of speaking. Tywin sighed while he shook his head in disbelief, Tywin was lord of things but he wasn’t a liar, if she gave him an heir and binds his blood with hers he would stop at nothing for his family, she deserved the seven kingdoms not just winterfell, he did not spare her life just to have her on his bed he could have bought a whore for that, no she was the only person Tywin saw (y/n) as a genuine equal to his intellect.

“My dear wife, you are by far the most annoying person I’ve crossed paths with and ever since you stepped foot in this castle you have been nothing but a pain as you strut with your insufferable attitude and sharp tongue no matter who you talk to you tick them off in a mere seconds… that is what I love about you”

“Everyone has a villain they look up to I suppose”

“I broke my rules for you little wolf, I saw something in those eyes of yours, not only do you have the guts to play this game you might also have what it takes to win it”

“So you resort to filling me up with your seed so we will be tied through our children”

Tywin held his though for a moment, he released her from his grasp as his hand ever so softly caressed the skin of her neck down to gracing over her chest, finally he snaked his arm around her waist that earned him a slight squeal that escaped from the young wolf.

(Y/n) kept her gaze into his eyes, he was a man that was not particularly charming, he was intriguing, something about him slowly lured you in, he was a man so distinguished and with such confidence in himself that you could never forget him nor what he made you feel while being around you.

Tywin thought she was made for him, such elegance with just the right amount of danger, her gaze was full of self reliance to the point that with just one glance she could make you second guess yourself, his new wife was a riddle that made his head spin, she could burn you with her passion while she offered you an unforgettable night or kill you in your sleep, a risk only a man like Tywin was willing to take.

“I will feel you up with my seed for two reasons, in hopes that we won’t only have a son but a daughter that has your thick head so you can understand what it is like when someone is trying to knock some sense into it and second because last night was a glimpse of your many hidden talents I yearn to discover”

Requests are open!

[chickensarentcheap]

A little flashback (as I attempt to get my muse going)

@tragiclyhip @watermeezer @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @kmc1989

@mrsmungus @alisbackalleybbq @asirensrage @residentdormouse @bardic-tales.

And anyone and everyone else, of course :)

Excerpt from Never Gonna Be Alone

It’s so many things. Tucking littles into bed and telling bedtime stories and rubbing upset tummies and comforting the sobs that come with nightmares; changing wet bed sheets in the middle of the night when the smallest ones have accidents. And it’s seeing him fast asleep on the couch with little bodies surrounding him; napping on his chest and tucked under his arms. THAT’S when he’s most attractive; the little moments of a big, strong man being a daddy.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tyler asks, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth; locks of hair falling across his forehead as he keeps his attention riveted on the ongoing ‘construction project’ in front of him.

It’s a yearly tradition ever since a five year old Millie came up with the idea of a gingerbread house contest; each child creating their own -the smallest of kids allowed help- and an outside and impartial ‘judge’ picking the winner. To the victor goes the spoils; allowed to choose what food they want delivered or picked up, and the two Christmas themed movies the family watch before lights out.

“I’m not staring,” Esme replies, as Takota plucks a gumdrop out of the palm of her hand and carefully attaches it to his creation. “I’m admiring.”

“What? My gingerbread house?”

“MY gingerbread house,” Brooklyn corrects, her father’s fingers wrapped around her wrist as he aides in adding swirls of frosting to the roof; splitting his attention between her and Addie. “You’re just my assistant.”

“Sounds like something your mom would say.”

“Everyone knows mommy’s the boss,” Takota pipes up. “EVERYONE. They just let you think YOU are.”

“You know, you guys are awfully cocky and savage for people that still need help wiping their asses sometimes.”

“It’s butts, daddy,” Addie says. “The A word is a bad word, remember? We’re not allowed to say ‘asses’.” Her eyes widen and she clamps a hand over her mouth. “Ooops.”

Tyler grins. “That was totally intentional and I know it.”

Addie giggles. “Maybe it was. Hey look…” she slams a palm coated in frosting into a bowl of candy, then lifts her hand out for all to see. “....I got Skittles pox!”

Esme sighs. “Have kids they said, it’ll be fun they said.”

“For the record, no one has EVER said that. Not once, in the entire history of civilization, has ANYONE ever said having kids would be fun. Making them? Absolutely. Having them? Whole other ballgame. And you…” Tyler addresses Addie, taking hold of her hand and making her giggle once more when he sucks icing and candy off two of her fingers. “...clean your hand.”

“Can I clean it by eating the stuff off it?”

“Whatever. Do what you want. I give up.”

Esme reaches for a nearby mug of tea and takes a swallow. “As fabulous as your gingerbread house is…”

“It's BROOKLYN'S gingerbread house,” Addie stresses, and happily uses her mouth to clear the icing and candy off her palm. “Daddy is merely her employee.”

“...I was actually admiring YOU,” Esme continues. “You happen to be very attractive when you’re in ‘daddy mode’.”

“Yeah? How attractive?”

“Extremely.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, then dips her finger into the container of icing; eyes locked on his as she slips the digit into her mouth and proceeds to suck off the sugary substance.

A grin tugs at the corners of his lips and spreads slowly across his face. “That attractive, huh?”

“Mmmhmmm.” She pulls her finger out of her mouth with a pop; using the tip of her tongue to clear away the remaining icing that rests on the tip.

“You’re evil.”

[faejilly]

*crashes in* hi hello idk how the prompt thing works, so if this isn't it pls ignore it. Alpha dom magnus, please?

there is no right or wrong for prompts! just throw stuff in my inbox, I will not be offended. I may completely fail to write anything, but I'll enjoy the attempt regardless. (Feel free to ask about it, anyone who has ever sent me anything and not ever seen a post, and I will be happy to provide an update if there is one.)

(Also I was originally going to write some nice simple porn and that uh. Did not happen. Have some weird magical sort of angst instead? Sorry not sorry.)

"Don't move."

Magnus is using his Alpha voice, something he'd promised himself he'd never do to Alexander, but the fear is too sharp in his throat, the taste still lingering against his tongue, and it's this or screaming.

Plus Alec has very eloquent body language, and if he didn't want to be ordered he'd make it very clear, and he is instead practically purring, chin up and eyes closed and arms and legs spread haphazardly out and across the sheet, taking up most of the bed beneath him.

The fear twists in Magnus' gut, part anger because Alec can be so relaxed and unrepentant after what happened, part relief that, no matter how close the call, he can be so comfortable and pleased to be here now, under Magnus' control.

Under Magnus' everything.

Magnus hears himself growling, feels it in his chest, and he barely remembers stripping the both of them as soon as the portal had closed behind them, as soon as his wards had flared up into full do not disturb mode, but he needs more than just the fact of Alec's submission.

He crawls on top of his Alexander, his knees pressed tight enough to Alec's sides that he can almost count the lines of Alec's ribs curving against Magnus' legs, his hands heavy enough on Alec's wrists that he wouldn't be able to move even without the command.

Magnus can feel the catch in Alec's breath beneath him, can feel as he somehow relaxes even more, and that's better and worse, fury and gratitude and grace all tangled together into something that burns behind his eyes.

His mouth is pressed against the front of Alec's throat, his teeth against Alec's skin, Magnus' whole body trembling with the almost pressure, with the desire to break the skin and use Alec's blood to bind him here to this bed, to keep him locked up and safe and his, forever and ever, a-fucking-men.

Alec shudders beneath him, somehow settling more, deeper, a tangible whine in his throat that Magnus can feel despite it being too soft to hear even right on top of it.

Magnus grips harder, shifts his weight just enough to let the pressure shift, bruising rather than tearing. He lifts his mouth, just a little, just enough to swallow, to lick his lips and break the line of spit that had connected him to Alexander's skin even after he'd moved.

"Never again." Magnus doesn't even know what he means by that, because Alec is a Shadowhunter, has a job that has to be done, is a protector, would not be himself if he didn't stand between an innocent and danger, but he can't do that again, cannot come so close to dying, not for anyone, not for anything, Magnus will not allow it.

"Never again," Alec whispers, fighting through the command just enough to shift his jaw, his tongue, to let his voice thrum out between them, and something shifts, something impossible and deep and singing as it connects, pulling and lifting and moving, easing the ache beneath Magnus' breastbone, the burn of fear and grief and possibility.

He feels his first order break, and they're both clinging to each other now, arms wrapped around shoulders and legs tangled and heads tucked as close together as possible as his magic somehow drains and fills both at once and he's shaking and crying and his nails are digging into Alec's skin and Alexander's hold is tight enough he can feel the bruises forming beneath his own skin and he sighs out and out and out and out...

He breathes in, and he blinks, and his head is on Alexander's chest, Alec's fingers brushing gently through his hair, his purr quiet and steady and soothing enough that Magnus doesn't panic at the first odd echo in his magic, tender as a bruise but warm and welcoming.

"What." He manages something that's sort of a word, and he hears the soft huff of Alexander's breath above his head, almost a sigh, definitely in complete agreement.

"I think we bound our lives." Alec's hand pauses, and Magnus almost whines out a complaint before he feels one single fingertip trace a line against his temple. "You have a grey hair here, love."

"What?" Magnus repeats, lifting himself up, though it hurts, an ache like the day after a fever broke, like the night after working too hard, like the morning after relief broke a worry you'd been clinging to for years. He almost groans, almost sways, but Alexander's hand has moved, bracing the side of his arm, and Magnus looks past damp dark lashes into familiar hazel eyes.

Familiar, but full of so much emotion Magnus can't parse it, can't separate the storm of relief and grief and guilt and hope and fear and regret and who-knows-what, so he ignores it all, settles into the familiar adoration beneath it all that has never once wavered.

He breathes, and loves Alexander back, and he knows.

"Oh." He can feel Alexander's heartbeat against his own, can feel the warmth of their mutual devotion with each breath he takes. He can feel the years of Alec's life echoed in his magic, down his spine, and he recognizes that odd weight in his magic isn't a bruise, isn't a wound.

It's time.

He can feel time.

There's a sharp moment of panic, of what if and what now and how and why but Alexander's grip on his arm tightens, and Alec's eyebrows start to frown and the guilt is rising up in his eyes and that is unacceptable.

Magnus laughs, and he means it, can feel the joy and the surprise and the anticipation lifting up through his heart, his body, singing through the life bond in a way he knows Alec can feel, would know Alec understood even if he couldn't see the hope rise up in Alec's gaze, the smile softening his face with slowly dawning delight.

"Yeah?" Alec asks, and there's so much in that word, caution and hope, a question and an answer and an agreement and love, always love.

"We're going to grow old together," Magnus whispers, and he doesn't even try to hide the giddy note in his voice, the glee rising in him at this, at knowing he's got one last adventure, an ultimate first and last and always for them, for him, for his Alexander, a life together, in a way he'd never been able to promise to anyone before.

A death together, whenever it came, tied too tightly now for either to pass on alone.

But not yet.

Not yet.

First they have time.

They have now, and now is for them, and this, as they hold each close and Magnus shifts and Alexander leans and their lips meet. He loses himself in this in them, in kissing his husband, his beloved, his life.

Their life.

[nepsah]

day 12 ! this is... a cropped vers of the full pic bc i think narrowing it down to this is better than including um... more of the trees??? the sky?? idk. its all the same shade of purple anyway /shrug

im soooooo not used to drawing stuff like this but how else do u get skills:tm:

When you are more aware of yourself again, you realize that Tsoji (it must be Tsoji) has stuck something to your chest. A bracelet has been secured around your wrist as well, with a small metal disk that rests over the visible veins. Tsoji is driving. The sun is setting. Atsia notices that you are ‘awake’ and pats one of your knees gently.

“Those are to monitor your heart rate,” he says with a nod to your wrist. You were staring at it too obviously. “You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to, but it… it’ll make it easier for us to tell if something’s wrong.”

You don’t understand. What could be wrong…?

Atsia’s expression takes on that pitying smile that you can’t decide if you hate (since when did you have opinions like that?). He pats your knee again- oh–... you asked that out loud, didn’t you?

“We’ve noticed that it’s a little hard to tell when you’re upset. The monitor is just to help us see that sooner so that we can avoid any more dissociation episodes if possible,” Atsia says. 

“I don’t- what is diss-disso-” you struggle to pronounce the word. Your tongue feels heavy and unwieldy. Did you lose time again?

“It’s… it’s like when your mind kind of… leaves your body for a little while. Everyone does it a little bit, but doing it too much is usually a sign that something’s wrong,” Atsia explains. He seems more worried about upsetting you with each word.

Was it dissociating when you settled back-seat in Tsoji’s mind, in the hospital?

Are all the times that you’ve lost time dissociating? Where did you go?

Tsoji looks back over his shoulder at the two of you. That alone is enough to make Atsia give your knee another squeeze.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s normal for someone who’s had a really traumatic incident to do it,” his voice is soft and soothing. The purple-orange haze of his aura stretches out over you, coating you in a comforting blanket. He… he really, truly wants you to feel better. Again, as always, it’s baffling to you. Shouldn’t you be used to that by now? You know them both to be kinder than you thought was ever possible.

You still don’t really understand… but as you sit in the confusion, rethinking every time you seem to have disappeared from existence only to ‘wake up’ in a different situation than you last remember, a growing sensation of fear pools in your belly. How much time have you lost? And what were you doing when you lost it?

Slowly, your hand slides over Atsia’s that is still connected to your knee. Your fingers hook around his palm, allowing him to squeeze the tops of your knuckles with this thumb. You are trembling, the heart monitor is beeping with increasing frequency. (They are both concerned.) You lock eyes with Atsia - the same black eyes as Tsoji’s yet somehow less all-devouring.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask. Even to you it’s plain from the wavering tone that you are terrified of the answer.

The vehicle slows to a stop. The three of you rock gently forward when it finally stops moving. Tsoji spins his driving seat around slowly. All around you, the sounds of the forest creep in. Wind whistling through trees, birds you cannot see singing to each other, and the far off cry of something you don’t know the name of. It feels like an eternity of silence coated in background sound goes by before they finally, finally answer.

“You’ve never hurt anyone,” Atsia says. His voice is soft, barely a whisper over the sounds of nature and your own overactive heart.

Tsoji moves closer to the two of you. Reaches out to take hold of your other hand. Gives it a little squeeze.

“But I remember-” your mouth protests. 

Tsoji shakes his head, and the words die in your mouth before they finish leaving. “You scared people. You didn’t hurt them.”

“But you wanted-” your mouth starts and this time it is you who clamps your mouth shut with an audible click. Pain shoots through your tongue as it is sliced by your teeth- too slow to get out of the way. It’s only a small nick, but the taste of blood fills your mouth anyway.

The twins share looks. Tsoji’s conflicting emotions swell and then burst into guilt. He drops his gaze, but does not drop your hand. “I’m sorry, Kiki. I was… it was, and is dangerous to be out here. I didn’t want to move you before you were ready. I wasn’t sure that what happened wouldn’t happen again and be worse.”

[rabbit-dance]

Okay, this gives me All The Feels. For one, there's the Obvious feels because this is, simply put, beautiful. He can play again. The thing that makes him happiest. It's beautiful and I'm so glad his story has a happy ending and that we get to see it.

But this hits me extra hard because my story is similar. It's long, so it's below the cut.

So, I've been drawing my whole life, and I've apparently loved comics since before I could talk. My mom found one of my earliest drawings that wasn't a mass of scribbles on a page. I drew "panels", and in each of them were two different-colored blobs, my characters, with circles full of wavy lines and hash marks for word balloons above them. They were talking to each other, with the "words" appearing over one, and then the other in the next panel. My first comic. Apparently Tiny Rabbit was a comedic genius, because mom said that when I brought the comic to her I was laughing so hard I could barely walk. I couldn't speak much at that age, but she knew that I had, at least to myself, successfully written down a joke. Fast forward a bit, and I'm in college for animation. This was in 2000. It was a shiny new century, and technology in the field was racing forward at an almost alarming rate. I was right in the middle; old enough to learn traditional hand-drawn techniques, but young enough to be learning 3D animation and modeling with the latest programs and equipment. Best of both worlds!

It was wonderful but grueling, even in school. Remember the animator strikes that just happened? Yeah, that culture was taught. We were encouraged to draw with both hands so that if when the one hand gave out, you could pick up your pencil with the other and keep going. Only about 30% of students even made it through the animation program. Just like the industry, it was notorious for chewing people up and spitting them out.

But I'm stubborn as hell, and I did it.

This is where my story gets familiar. We've all heard this one. There's a promising young athlete, fresh out of college, who gets to do their thing professionally. They're doing okay. Not the head of the pack, but they definitely don't suck, and they're a favorite for advancement. Then they blow out their knee and their career is over before it's started. Oh, well. Them's the breaks, kid.

That was me with my hands. Carpal tunnel in both of my wrists. Potential permanent nerve damage. My fingers would sometimes lock up into little T-Rex claws like our pianist's up there. Pain that rivaled my migraines would shoot up my arm when I tried to grip a pen or hold a mouse. For a while I could hardly type. My doctors had never seen damage like mine in someone my age, especially with no other health problems that could affect it. They said that with surgery, the gods smiling on us, and if I was the best physical therapy patient ever, the best I could get was 70% function.

And that I could never be a professional artist again.

I felt like a fish that was just told I wasn't allowed to swim anymore. To say that I felt bad about it would be an understatement, but I couldn't wallow in it. Bills had to be paid, but what could I do? I have severe vertigo. I can't drive. My hands and wrists were toast, and I couldn't use a keyboard or reliably carry anything heavy.

My one grandpa had taught me metalwork growing up. Brazing, soldering, etc. I've always been a beader (Natives gonna bead, yo), I'd picked up chainmaille as a hobby, and I've always liked jewelry. So, I became a jeweler. I started with chainmaille, and over the years I expanded my tools and skills to get to silversmithing, engraving, etc. All that fancy jeweler stuff.

"But Rabbit," you ask, "Isn't that hard on the hands?"

A valid question! Turns out, how I hold my tools is different than how I hold my pencil. Even when I couldn't draw, I could still make jewelry. Eventually I got to where I could use my computer and such again, and I did start drawing, but only a little bit here and there. Doodles, really. They scratched the itch, but nothing more.

So, I built a nice little business as a jeweler selling at shows and festivals. My wife, kiddo and I were doing okay. I could manage a little bit of drawing every day; less than an hour, but it was something. I even made some coloring books and self-published them on Amazon. I said I was stubborn, remember?

Enter The Plague.

We all know that sucked for artists who rely on events to get by, so I'll spare you that part. What's important is that I, whilst doomscrolling (everyone's favorite quarantine activity), came upon a picture from 2002 that was shared on one of the Native pages on FB. It was taken outdoors, at night, at a college bonfire party. I was in it, along with about a dozen other people. I had been visiting family on the rez with my grandma, and my cousin invited me to the party.

What was a fun memory for me was quickly destroyed when I learned that I was the only person in the photo still alive. Everyone else had died from Covid.

Quick aside if you didn't know - The pandemic sucked for everyone, but it hit Indigenous folks HARD. Look it up if you want to be mad about something. It's awful.

Anyway, that made me take a long, hard look at my life and what I wanted out of it. I wanted to make a comic book. I'd always dreamed of it, and had even started several in high school and college, but I only got a few pages in before I quit. Life and my own insecurities got in the way. But now, with no shows to work towards in quarantine and an old flame burning again, I had plenty of time and nothing to lose. I had a story idea rattling in my head, too.

One about plague doctors.

So, I went back to have my hands looked at. I was going to make a comic book come Hell or high water, but I wanted to know where I stood, first. The doctors were amazed! The years of using all of the many different tools in my metalworking had strengthened my hands and wrists. I'd learned to take breaks, and how to do the right stretches. 95% functionality!

I was cleared to draw.

That was almost exactly three years and one month ago. I told myself then that I would start drawing on January 1st, 2021. To prepare, I started outlining, got Clip Studio Paint, dusted off the old Wacom, and decided to stream it to keep myself accountable.

I'm coming up on almost two years of drawing for hours every day I possibly can. I'm on Issue Five of the comic, and I'm working to get Issue Three ready for printing. I'm still excited about the story, and I get a rush every time a panel really comes together. Evie and the kiddo say they've never seen me happier, and I don't know how I could be.

As I watch this old man play with his bionic gloves, I look at the black drawing glove on my own hand, and smile.

I understand, João Carlos. I hope you play every day, for years to come.

Thanks to a pair of a bionic gloves, this 80-year-old classical pianist can finally play the piano again. The maestro, João Carlos Martins, had lost dexterity in his hands due to aging and health complications. His face at being able to play piano again says it all. 🎶

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[witch-hazels-musings]

I'm curious of how characters would use their visions in the bedroom 👀 Like, Kaeya would totally do temperature control stuff.

Could I request headcannons or narratives for how Diluc and Albedo would use their visions for your pleasure? (or for theirs 😳)

Note: I believe vision can only be used when they are in the possession of the person they were gifted to ( primary reason: Diluc giving his away - if anyone could have used it he would have given it to his father, and if he didn’t really need it to use his vision, he wouldn’t have taken it back ) 

Warning -> slightly funny? 18+ OMG PLEASE RESPECT THE 18+! NS_FW!!!! ( foreign penetration, voyeurism (Alb), burning clothes, no injury, held against wall (D), orgasm denial, foreplay, hydro bondage, hydro foreplay, voyeurism (C)) 

Character X GN Reader | Anthology 

( okay … so this one is gonna be the strangest one I’ve ever done?, and I’m apologizing right now for it --- i’m literally so embarrassed, ima hide under my desk DONT JUDGE ME T.T )

Includes: Albedo (i’m sorry), Childe, Diluc 

Albedo

A vision in the hands of Albedo is a tool for many uses - he sees it less as proof of his power and more of a means to an end  - it’s an extension of what he has available and he’s learned to adapt it to any possible scenario 

Now he’s learned there are ways he can use it to satiate you while he continues to do his work - and, if he’s feeling especially devious, inquisitive to the point of combustion, he may just watch 

“Alb--bedo …” You adjusted, legs pressed together so intensely that you thought you might break your kneecaps. Shaking hands gripped onto the closest thing they could while you did your best to stay seated just where he placed you. 

“Try not to move too much, it will alter the drawing.” He sat with his leg resting over his thigh, the large sketchpad he had propped up there was bouncing vigorously as his hand ran across the paper. The pencil, when you could see it through your blurry vision, was dancing across the parchment in unbelievable speed as if to capture what was before it. 

The vibrations that shook your body seemed to fluctuate from intense stimulation to slow, steady pulsations. Every dip in frequency allowed you room to breathe, your hands moved to your face, teeth bit onto your fingers as your hips rocked against nothing as they sorrowfully tried to help you get off. 

“Be-do, please …” You whined, eyes glossing over as you looked at him. Did he laugh, did he smile at you, how heartless could he get. Under your rippling vision, you saw how it glowed brighter and richer in color, and yet, as if you didn’t comprehend its meaning, your hands flew down to grab onto the chair while the resonating stimulation grew between your legs. “Ah!” You slid further into the chair, your head resting on the back of the chair as your fingers gripped and pushed against the edge of the seat. Arching your back, lifting your legs up onto your toes you couldn’t help the moans and pants that fell from your mouth at an unreasonable pace. 

“Hold that pose.” Albedo’s voice was calm even if the speed at which he turned the page wasn’t and, as you gazed at him you couldn’t help but lose your mind at the way he observed you. The intensity of it was so powerful that even though you knew he wasn’t inside of you, it felt like he was. 

You crashed like a runaway cart into your orgasm, it shook you to your core, and even though you were screaming moments ago all that came out now was a high-pitched whimper. Deep breaths were all that you could take as you clenched around the object Albedo had placed inside of you, it was so hot that you started to pull at your shirt, and soon your hands found their way to the spasming place between your legs. 

Albedo’s voice suddenly sounded much closer to you, his lips pressing to your forehead while his hand rested on the one you had near the object. “You did excellently, but I’d like to see more of you if I could, will you assist me again?” 

In your dizzy haze, you glanced at his bright eyes and with a gaping, air-sucking mouth, you gave your reply. 

 Childe

There was no need to keep his skills at manipulating hydro out of everything that he did, why would he when he was so beyond capable at making it do exactly what he wanted. Whether that be from creating blades out of it, spears in its likeness, or even shackles to hold people down - he was learning just how versatile water could be 

How could he not give everything he’s ever wanted to try to his partner who had shown him on multiple occasions a level of trust he knew he didn’t deserve, and a willingness to let him do what he wanted -- you always gave him permission, and you were doing it even now 

Your back arched as his hands slid under your pants. The way he touched you so perfectly made your vision go dark before lighting up under the stars. As soon as he put pressure right where you needed it, fingers bending and flexing to let you know how much control he had over you, the sound of pleasure and excitement that slipped from your mouth gave him access to the tongue inside of it. 

He played with you, toyed with the tightness in your stomach. Every time you were about to break under his stimulation he pulled away just to watch how much you’d whine. 

“Childe, please …” You shifted under him as he slowly, painstakingly began to remove your clothes. Each layer, every article which fell to the floor next to the bed felt like an eternity in your sinful sentence. The way his hands ran down your legs as he slipped off your pants, the sensation of his gloved fingers trailing down the center of your chest as he watched the way you squirmed and grabbed at his arm - he was enjoying it all and he had barely done anything to you yet. 

“I’ll give you exactly what you need, remember,” He pressed his lips to your neck, your collarbone, and in the center of your chest before continuing, “If you want to stop, tell me immediately.” You nodded your head and he sealed your promise with a passionate kiss. 

In no time, he had you exactly in the state he wanted you, his eyes observing the beauty and perfection that lay before him and as your own gazed longingly, eagerly back at him, you noticed how his vision began to hum. It pulsed like a glowing heart and in your curiosity, you reached your hand for it only to find it was impossible. 

Tilting your head, you noticed there was a stream of water around your wrists. Funny, you couldn’t tell that your skin was wet at all. That’s when a new sensation began to work its way up to your legs and when you looked down to investigate, you noticed a swirling blue like rope beginning to creep its way further up your body. 

“What’s …” The smile that stretched his lips and seeped into his dangerous eyes made it so hard for you to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest, your stomach rippled with excitement, and the build-up in your body began to increase so much you were sure he was going to make you orgasm just from his stare alone. 

“Ready?” 

“Yeah, ready for wh-AH!” The flowing water reached your ache. The wetness of it made your body nearly seize as he worked its way into you. The moans and cries that left your burning throat were so loud you were sure someone was going to hear you. Desperately, you wanted to cover your mouth but your wrists were still locked above your head so instead, you tried to bite your lip but that only sealed in so much noise. 

“My, how adorable you look like this.” Childe hummed, his hand moving to stroke your chest as he leaned down to pepper kisses against your throat. “Let’s push a little further, what do you say?” 

The girth of the water increased and no amount of self-control was capable of holding back the scream released from your body. Your feet struggled against the mattress, futile attempts to assist you in raising your body off of the mattress came with frustrated huffs and whines in your throat. You called out his name and soon you heard the sound of rattling metal. 

“Damn, I made myself jealous.” Suddenly, all the water around your body ran down your skin and before you could understand what was happening, Childe positioned himself above you and worked at finishing what his hydro vision started. 

Diluc

He usually has so much more control - he had to learn in order to survive, but there were times, there were moments when all he knew was instinct and all he could do was feel 

With you, these moments came up more frequently than he would have ever anticipated - there is no switch to turn himself off when he gets lost in your body. You learned to never get him so worked up while his vision still rested at his hip (things were bound to burn) 

He backed you into a wall, his fever to have you was apparent by the intense way his hands ran over your body, tugged at your clothes, manipulated your hands with his. He was almost like another person, a delusion of himself. There was no way you could have known riling him up would lead to this and while it was incredible, the ferocity of him, the unreserved nature that he was capable of showing, it was also incredibly hot. 

“Diluc wait -” You tried to reach for his vision but his hands plastered yours to the wall. His lips claimed any part of your skin that they could and the pressure of his body against you, the feeling of his growing and dangerous erection crushing against your stomach made every rational thought in your brain fall to the floor he hardly let you touch. 

His strength always shocked you. For someone so thin it was often hard to remember that he was capable of it - even though you watched him fling his claymore around like it was nothing, even though on countless occasions he lifted you like you were a freshly sprouted plant; how deceiving his true abilities were to you and everyone else.

Your clothes began to cling to your body. The sweat dripping down your back, in between your legs, your neck all made you wildly informed his vision was active. You didn’t even need to see how it burned like a beating ember to know he was calling on its ability. He let go of your hands and began to work himself out of his jacket, undo his vest, and any other article of clothing he could all the while his mouth kept yours occupied. 

The heat from his tongue was near scalding, how was he able to let this fire seep through every single part of his being - was he not experiencing it too? When his chest was exposed, your hands ran over his rippled torso and the question you just asked yourself was answered as you felt how slick he was becoming. 

You pulled him closer, the resulting action making his body come into immediate contact with yours and the feeling of his cock digging into the soft and sensitive area between your legs made you burst in exclamation. Your head landed on the wall, hands slid around the hem of his pants and gripped so tightly onto them his hips pushed further into you. 

“It’s hot, it’s so hot.” You panted, gazing at him and hoping that your words made sense. Your body was hot, everything was hot, but while you wanted him to alleviate the heat, you hoped he’d remove one primary cause of it.  

Pinning your hands above your head, he quickly began to work on your pants. He wasted no time undoing the buckles and buttons that kept you clothed and as he helped you remove them there was a distinct smell filling the air. When you looked down, the fabric was starting to burn even with you still in it. 

“Diluc! Hold-ah!” Struggling against him, you began to shake your lower body and in his complete daze, he slowly came back to realization. In an instant, he let go of you and grabbed the nearest item to him to put out the flames. He was on his knees, his black shirt tightly wrapped around your chard pants afraid that if he didn’t keep it there the flames would get worse. 

“Y/N … I cannot apologize enou-” Your laughter cut him off, the expression he shot up to you was one of mass confusion as he searched for understanding. 

“If I had known you were going to burn my clothes, I would have teased you without them.” He shook his head and tried to apologize again, his eyes dropping to your legs, assessing them for any damage. “I’m fine, you didn’t burn me.” 

He wrapped his arms around your waist, his cheek pressing against your stomach as he held onto you tightly. Chuckling, you rested your hand on his hair and began to caress him, the soft movements reassuring him until he composed himself again and lifted back to his full height. Looking at his face, you could tell he was nervous, so you lifted onto your toes to give him a kiss of redemption. 

“Next time, let’s leave this,” you reached for his vision and easily removed it from his pants, “out of the action. What do you say, hot-stuff?” His eyes narrowed at your nickname but agreed to your suggestion anyway. 

--

( no one is tagged because I am too embarrassed to do that! ) 

[yuzukult]

bittersweet. (m) || kmg & reader

title: bittersweet. pairing: kim mingyu x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, established relationship!au word count: 3.1k warnings: dirty deed is done (aka explicit sex if you didn't catch that). profanity. prompt: you're always fighting. he doesn't get you. so why are you even still together? a/n: before any of my friends make fun of me, shaddup. anyways, this is for @/ficscafe dialogue prompt event! i'll be using #14: you make me weak.

He’s so adamant.

The crinkle in between his brows, the scrunch of his nose, and his incessant blinking from all the nerves, despite it all, he still stands firm on his beliefs.

But you’re fighting. Always fighting.

He doesn’t get you—he spends most of the time he's with you arguing about how insensitive you are as a person, how nonchalant you can be when you should be reacting with some type of emotion, and how he wished you’d been more affectionate with him.

But he doesn’t understand you. He thinks you’re selfish (sure, he didn’t outright state this, but you can sense him feeling this way.)

Albeit you’re unsure how you got yourself in this position—back flat against the wall, his hands on your wrists with his crotch pinning yours as your legs wrap around him securely to meet his gaze from the height difference.

“I need you to talk to me,” he rasps, anger filled in his voice. “I’m so tired of making this into some guessing game. Why can’t you just tell me how you feel?”

Although he’s got you cornered, rutting his hips into you once again, it's not persuasive enough. “Talk to me.”

“If you can’t figure me out, maybe we should just break up. I didn’t want to date in the first place.”

Jaw clenched, his eyes continue to melt into yours. He’s looking for anything—a sign, a glimpse, a crack in your exterior to see whatever it is you’re truly feeling inside. “Why do you always use that as a solution? Instead of just communicating?”

“Because—“ you halt, breath hitching when he shifts, the head of his cock rubbing against your bud through your thin material shorts. “—Because it’s an easier solution. What do you expect from me?”

“To tell me and show me if you like me or not. You’re like a fucking boulder. I can’t move you.”

You quirk a brow. “Your fucking holding me down right now. You’ve evidently proved you can move me elsewhere.”

“Emotionally,” he says, exasperated. “The most I can get you to feel something is when we’re fucking. I’m surprised we’re even fucking in the first place. You barely let me hold your hand!”

Rolling your eyes, you pull your arms from his hold and he lets go easily. It’s the type of person Mingyu is—he’s gentle, the complete opposite of you, with a heart of gold that everyone loves and appreciates. He’s lovable, known to many, and desired by them all, and somehow, you got him in your grasp and truthfully… you’re not sure what to do.

He’s fragile, but you have rough hands with toughened skin from years of experience and encounters. There’s this fear that you’ll drop him, shatter him into pieces as brittle as chinaware. So you hold the front, keep yourself strong with a facade tougher than concrete, because you’re afraid if you hold on too tight, he might break. And at the same time, he might break you too.

“You wanna know why?” You finally blurt, words firm and sharp. “Because you make me weak. And I don’t like being weak. I don’t like being known as weak. And you—you do that to me. I hate it.”

He furrows his brows. “I make you weak? The one girl I know to be the most resilient?” Mingyu has to scoff in disbelief because it’s the first time he’s hearing this. “You realize how insane you sound? It’s okay to have feelings for me. It’s why we’re together.”

Nose twitching, you suck in your cheeks. “I hate it. I hate this. I hate that when you turn to look at me in the morning, you give me that fucking… smile. Like I’m your whole world. Like you’re head over heels for me and I’m all that you see.”

“And why do you hate that?”

“Because, some part of me, deep down into the abyss, wants to look at you like that too.”

His jaw loosens, just like the restraints he had over his heart in the past hour of arguing, hands now finding purchase on your thighs to pull you back up closer. “Baby…” he calls out for you softly, the term of endearment nearly bursting your heart, but you keep yourself calm and collected as you normally do. “Then do it. Why are you so scared?”

“I told you.”

“That’s not a good enough reason.”

“Well, it’s good enough for me.”

He heaves a heavy breath. “Baby, I can’t keep doing this. I feel like I’m chasing you but I’m getting nothing out of it.”

Then, you reiterate the same words you’ve said multiple times, but there’s never any genuinity in it because you never actually… meant it. “Then let’s break up.”

“We’re not breaking up.”

“Then what do you want to do? Tell me. If breaking up isn’t the option, then tell me instead of having me up the wall if we’re not gonna fuck.”

“Fucking only happens when you’re pissed or when you’re making up.”

“So, what now?”

It’s Mingyu’s turn to roll his eyes. “We make up. I need you to talk to me. I can barely read you—the only thing I know for sure is that you don’t want this to end because you just admitted to me that you wanna look at me the same way I look at you.”

Frustrated, you let your head drop onto the wall behind you. “This is annoying. I don’t like expressing stuff. You just take what you get or leave. If you can’t figure out what’s going through my mind, what’s the point? Why put in the effort?” Eyes fluttering shut, you feel yourself wanting to crawl into a ball and just… hide. Despite being fully clothed, you feel naked when Mingyu asks for more. And what he’s asking for isn’t even unreasonable—you’re just horrible at telling people what you’re feeling. “I just… why can’t I just let you lay your head on my lap when you get home from work? Or… cook dinner with you. Even have it ready when you have long nights at work. Maybe even fold your laundry—I don’t know. I don’t like PDA but if you asked me, I’d hold your hand under the table. Or… hold it in your pocket on cold days.”

Then, Mingyu stays silent (for the first time).

It finally hits.

You’re not outspoken when it comes to soft things. You’re loving but not in the same way he is. You’re also honest and straightforward about everything except when it comes to admitting feelings for him.

And for once, when you say those words, he… he feels loved by you.

He remembers those days—after spending hours at the gym despite having a long work day, he’d come home and you’re there waiting for him on the couch so you could shower together. You’d help scrub his limp body, even though he moans and groans about how sore he is, but you do it nonetheless because you like him. Or when you stopped by at his apartment, one he shares with all his friends, because he was stuck with helping one of them build their beds and you brought them all, including himself, lunch. And that wasn’t to mention you were already working twelve hour days.

“Can you answer one question for me, then? I won’t force you to tell me again. I just need to hear it once.”

Your eyes open, and it feels like a mistake because your heart drops into your stomach. His gaze is hypnotizing, like he’s got you in a trance, and you respond with a ‘yes’ without much thought because of him.

Mingyu swallows all his anxiety before asking that million dollar question.

“Do you love me?”

Although you feel small being put on the spot like that, the one thing you’ll admit is that you’ve already predetermined the answer to this. And just as much courage as Mingyu puts into asking, you’ll reciprocate and do the same in answering because he’s admirable for even trying.

“Yes.”

Without much thought, he presses his lips against yours. You love him, although you rarely if not never say it, but you finally said those words and all he needs is to hear it just once for assurance. To know that there’s something he’s chasing for, that he’s not running in place like on a treadmill.

Arms snaking around his neck, you keep your hold there as his hands reach to your jaw, leveraging the kiss in an angle he’d prefer. When you kiss, he feels complete. He’s never felt like this with another girl before, this feeling of home, the feeling of comfort. You’re colder than brisk winters, but something about having you in his arms makes him warm.

Your fingers comb through his locks, and although it’s doused in gel and spent hours on doing this morning, he doesn’t mind because he knows he’s yours. When you kiss him back, he’s as anxious as he was when he had to go on stage and perform in front of people for the first time.

Gently pulling away, both your lips are pink and swollen with a string of saliva connecting between. Pants brushing against each other’s face, a soft smile tugs on the edges of your lips as you feel heat creeping up your neck.

“I love you too,” he says, as low as a whisper. “And… I’m okay if you don’t say it again. You know how I show you that I love you… and I should’ve been better at learning what you’re comfortable with in showing how you love. But I still need you to help, too, to make this… better. I need you to talk to me, when you need me. When I need you. I need you to be here for me too.”

“Okay,” you respond, volume matching his. “If that’s the case, I love you. Just… as another reminder since I only said yes the first time.”

He lets out a chuckle, vibrating from his chest and everything about him makes your heart race. “Good. Can I show you how much I love you?”

“No,” you retort quickly and bashfully. But he knows you’re playing because you nod afterwards, allowing him to carry you to the couch. “Maybe.”

“I need a yes, love,” Mingyu says cheekily, face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You know I’m not going to go any further until I hear it.”

“Yes,” you reply embitterly, but Mingyu knows better now. He knows what you want, because all he needed was assurance. “Please show me how much you love me.”

And fuck, because he never knew how much he needed to hear those words all his life.

You’re so pretty when he has you stripped down to nothing, laid out on the leather couch of your living room; hair messy, mouth gaped open from all his teasing, and with an arm covering your face because it’s all too much for you. Mingyu is a passionate lover, you’ve come to recognize, and although it’s all an unfamiliar territory, you love him and you’re willing to step into the unknown.

“How am I doing?” He asks, as if he doesn’t have his head in between your legs and a grip on the meat of your thighs. He loves the taste of you, he reminds you plenty of times, but dirty talk coming from such an innocent face makes you slightly embarrassed. “Feels good?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, avoiding his infatuated stare. “Just… just fucking do it, you asshole.”

“What? Show you how much I love you?”

There’s a tornado in the pit of your stomach. He keeps saying things that make you awkward because you’ve never been loved like how Mingyu loves.

You don’t react, and this displeases him. Laying his tongue flat out against your cunt, he gives you another lick that lets a whimper escape from your lips. “Tell me, baby. Am I doing a good job?”

“Yes,” you croak, only because you feel like he’s got you in this position for so long. You’re so exposed, and he at least has his boxers to protect him like a shield, but you’re all out in the open. (Not to mention his fucking built body. He makes you feel so insecure about yours—how is this puppy looking boy so… wide? What the fuck?) “Can you… can you take that off?”

He leans up, tilting his head in confusion and now you can see how hard he is in his undergarments. “My… my boxers?”

“Yeah. I feel like… I’m the only one exposed here.”

He laughs. “Baby, we’ll get to that.”

“Now.”

Mingyu snorts. “Anything my baby wants.” He bumps foreheads with you gingerly, something he's always done playfully, and tugs off his boxers swiftly as requested. “Let me make you cum first and—“

“No,” you interject, eyes closed and biting down on your bottom lip. It's the only way to remain bold—to not look him in the eye because he’ll melt you like a stick of butter left on the kitchen counter. “Show me how you love me.”

Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to shuffle quickly through the little stash hidden on the first shelf underneath your coffee table (he likes to be prepared in every situation even though this is your apartment) and finally spots the condom he hid a week ago. Tearing it open rapidly, he gives himself a couple pumps that have beads of precum building at the top and slips the rubber on with ease. “Ready?”

“For you?” Mingyu gulps, because before today, you’ve rarely said anything that made his heart stutter. “Anything.”

With a push of the head of his cock into your heat, a quiet wince escapes from your lips and his chocolate orbs are saturated in apologies. He doesn’t want you to feel pain, especially not you, but even his efforts to loosen you up beforehand, you still manage to be so tight around him every time. It feels good to have you around him snugly, yet he knows the consequence of the beginning is the ache in between your legs from the first intrusion.

“I’m sorry, bub,” Mingyu presses a tender kiss on your forehead. “Bear with me, yeah?”

“Mm,” you hum dismissively, warming up when he finally slides himself all the way in. He stills, in fear that you’re hurt, but instead, you’re surprisely impatient as you cross your legs behind him and pull him close. Bringing your lips close to his ears, you breathe, “fuck me, baby.”

Mingyu laughs brightly, and your jaw clenches. “What?”

“After today, I’m not going to fuck you.” You quirk a brow. “I’m gonna make love to you.”

“Don’t make me throw up. You’re ruining the moment.”

He grins mischievously before pulling out and shoving himself back in swiftly that earns a groan from you. “Oh? Am I?”

“Stop playing, Mingyu,” you state sternly, but Mingyu is enjoying himself too much. “Or else you're not getting any for the month.”

Well, that does the trick.

He has his hands on your hips, pushed down against the seat cushions of your loveseat couch, hips once flushed against yours now thrusting into your throbbing pussy. God, you’re fucking done for, honestly, because he’s a pro with his hips when he angles it just right that he’s brushing against your swollen clit, hitting so deep into you.

“Fuck—“

“You curse too much, baby,” Mingyu puffs, pecking the side of your lips sloppily. “Everyone thinks I’m such a nice guy and when they meet my—fuck—g-girlfriend and find out how much of a dirty mouth she has, they’re always struck.”

“Too fucking bad,” you spit, fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. He’s so big, stretching you with each shove, but you’d never tell him that or his ego would inflate. “Stop talking and fuck me harder.”

Mingyu loves. He loves and loves, and although you won’t pretend that he comes to your home often with crumpled pieces of papers with girls’ names and numbers on them that fall into the catch-all bowl by the door with his keys, you don’t forget that besotted daze he falls into the moment he sees you. So when you ask for something, he delivers without fail.

Abiding by your urge, his hips move briskly, pistoning into you as fast as he can. Biceps tense, you can’t help but let your hands slip there, gripping onto the muscle and has you wondering fuck, how did you get so lucky? He’s hot, cute, sweet, loving and geez, he could fuck. He’s so clumsy, so dumb sometimes, but he’s so freaking lovable it makes you sick. Lovesick.

His pretty eyes shut close, you notice, because those two cups of hot chocolate are gone and he’s chewing on his bottom lip as he groans, ends of his hair that brush over his eyes now drenched in sweat. His skin glistens underneath the dim lights, and he reminds you of the stars in the night sky—so gorgeous, so special. Always a sight to see.

“Fuck,” the not-so-innocent boy curses (even though he just said you curse too much) “Baby, you just got so tight. Are you about to cum?”

“Possibly,” you manage to say, still attempting to play games even though Mingyu could very so threaten to steal your orgasm away from the tip of your fingers. But when he slightly shifts in the midst of his pounding, you let out a raspy, “Almost,” because he’s rubbing against your nub incessantly that you’re losing all your focus.

When you finally see those stars, you let go.

Mingyu feels this, grunting when you convulse around his dick, head dropping to watch you tug and tug around him, begging for him to cum. Thankfully, it doesn’t take long because after a couple thrusts, he stills, spilling ropes of cum into the condom and dropping the entirety of his weight onto you, face snug into the crook of your neck once again.

“I—“

“You’re heavy.”

“Fuck, baby, we just had sex and that’s the first thing you say?”

He can’t see you, but there’s a smile on your face. “Yeah. And you got my couch all sticky from your sweat. Not to mention the cum. Are you gonna clean it after?”

Mingyu doesn’t care. He’s blissful. He’s happy. He knows you’re going to toss a damp rag at him later, despite his dick out and still drenched in your arousal, and tell him to ‘wipe down the fucking couch because that’s gross.’

All because he knows that you love him.

[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

[kayforpay]

They're all yelling, but no one seems mad.

"What do you mean there's no records? How the fuck did he get here?" The officer at his back, hand clasped easily around the fragile joints of his wrists. "He's got fins, for fuck sake."

Clorad doesn't move, doesn't even think. His eyes are locked on the hole, the shallow grave he had tried to stuff his matesprit in. Dorize's ruined face peers out at him, their cerulean blood muddied and thick. Their one remaining eye doesn't glow, doesn't control him the way they used to be able to, but he can't look away. There's dirt in his mouth, in his gills.

"Fuckin pink, are you kidding me?"

It had worked. He had crept into the mines while Dorize slept, barefoot on the hot, hard-packed path to avoid any unnecessary noise. He had dug the debris away from the pickaxe he stole, held it so tight that the knuckles of his fingers showed bright fucsia through his pallid skin. He hadn't slept before. hadn't eaten, had laid still and silent until Dorize was satisfied.

He remembered what they said, nice of you to work with me for once.

As soon as the sun rose, when all the trolls would be deep in their sleep, he had his weapon, and he crept back into the hive. The door whispering on its hinges made him flinch, but Dorize was still sleeping when he slipped through the rooms to where they slept, the soporific blanket wrapped around them comfortably.

The pickaxe was heavy, suddenly, and took what felt like hours to raise. He stood still, eyes wide with fear, and watched Dorize breathe. It wasn't their fault, after all.

He should have known better than to think he deserved to be loved. It was Clorad's fault for wanting more than he was allowed, more than he was worth. He wanted to be loved, and that was why he was in this situation, with a matesprit who didn't love him, and needed to die.

The first swing killed them. The pointed end, he never bothered learning what it was called, pressed through their skin and muscle and bone so easily. He was disgusted with his strength. Had he tried to make it better? Make it work? Had Clorad really made an effort?

They'd been together for so long. All Clorad could remember, as he lifted the pick and swung again, was the way he could feel Dorize's anger like sparks landing on the back of his neck. He could remember how Dorize would cook something he liked after they came home with their fists balled up already, with an anger that Clorad had to sate with his body.

He remembered how his own blood had flooded his gills, left him choking for air, and how Dorize had been disgusted by his weakness.

The ground behind their hive was too hard, though. Some kind of heavy clay, it had made his shovel ring out like a bell when he struck it, had broken the sharp, fragile edge.

His hair is full of blood and dust, and his nails are caked with soil to the point of pain, but he couldn't move if he wanted to. All the strength he had earlier is gone, leaving him limp, exhausted. "Am I going to be killed?"

The guard holding him still jumps, apparently shocked by the sudden noise, and removes their hand from his wrists. "Only if you can't fight. You're going back to the main planet." They say it with some mix of reverence and distaste.

Despite it being the first time, Clorad can feel that it will not be the last.

is it okay if I do a drabble abt clorad here

[chickensarentcheap]

A little Christmasy flashback :D

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @ninjasawakenedmystar @kmc1989 @thebejeweledwatercat @asirensrage @mrsmungus @alisbackalleybbq @theesirenteller @karimac

“Why are you staring at me?” Tyler asks, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth; locks of hair falling across his forehead as he keeps his attention riveted on the ongoing ‘construction project’ in front of him.

It’s a yearly tradition ever since a five year old Millie came up with the idea of a gingerbread house contest; each child creating their own -the smallest of kids allowed help- and an outside and impartial ‘judge’ picking the winner. To the victor goes the spoils; allowed to choose what food they want delivered or picked up, and the two Christmas themed movies the family watch before lights out.

“I’m not staring,” Esme replies, as Takota plucks a gumdrop out of the palm of her hand and carefully attaches it to his creation. “I’m admiring.”

“What? My gingerbread house?”

“MY gingerbread house,” Brooklyn corrects, her father’s fingers wrapped around her wrist as he aides in adding swirls of frosting to the roof; splitting his attention between her and Addie. “You’re just my assistant.”

“Sounds like something your mom would say.”

“Everyone knows mommy’s the boss,” Takota pipes up. “EVERYONE. They just let you think YOU are.”

“You know, you guys are awfully cocky and savage for people that still need help wiping their asses sometimes.”

“It’s butts, daddy,” Addie says. “The A word is a bad word, remember? We’re not allowed to say ‘asses’.” Her eyes widen and she clamps a hand over her mouth. “Ooops.”

Tyler grins. “That was totally intentional and I know it.”

Addie giggles. “Maybe it was. Hey look…” she slams a palm coated in frosting into a bowl of candy, then lifts her hand out for all to see. “....I got Skittles pox!”

Esme sighs. “Have kids they said, it’ll be fun they said.”

“For the record, no one has EVER said that. Not once, in the entire history of civilization, has ANYONE ever said having kids would be fun. Making them? Absolutely. Having them? Whole other ballgame. And you…” Tyler addresses Addie, taking hold of her hand and making her giggle once more when he sucks icing and candy off two of her fingers. “...clean your hand.”

“Can I clean it by eating the stuff off it?”

“Whatever. Do what you want. I give up.”

Esme reaches for a nearby mug of tea and takes a swallow. “As fabulous as your gingerbread house is…”

“It's BROOKLYN'S gingerbread house,” Addie stresses, and happily uses her mouth to clear the icing and candy off her palm. “Daddy is merely her employee.”

“...I was actually admiring YOU,” Esme continues. “You happen to be very attractive when you’re in ‘daddy mode’.”

“Yeah? How attractive?”

“Extremely.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, then dips her finger into the container of icing; eyes locked on his as she slips the digit into her mouth and proceeds to suck off the sugary substance.

[specialagentlokitty]

Loki x reader - Phoenix

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Loki x reader where the reader is a Phoenix on the avengers and when Loki meets the reader he wonders what she is but doesn’t know and only thinks that she has fire powers. Until one mission where she saves him in her full form. Pure fluff please. Thanks - Anon 💜

Loki was finding his time on Earth to be annoying but enlightening. He was learning about mutants, he found it strange how some humans had powers and how some didn’t.

Sometimes he was still a bit clueless however, and since he’d only met you a few months ago, he wasn’t sure if you had any powers.

You were sat on the couch playing a game when he walked over to you with a book in his hand and sat with you.

“Why do you give off so much heat?” Loki asked.

You paused your game and turned to face him, furrowing your brows.

“Huh?”

“I’m sat next to you and I feel like I’m in the depths off hel.”

“Oh... I think it’s because of this.”

You flicked your wrist and your whole hand lit up a bright orange, and Loki jumped, nearly falling off the couch.

“What in the world?!”

You put it out and smiled sheepishly.

“You remember what we talk about with mutants?”

He slowly sat back in his head, and nodded his head.

“Is that what you are? A mutant?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“What kind of mutant are you?”

“Well... under classification I’m a fire mutant.”

“Classification?”

“Yeah, it’s what mutants are labelled under. It helps the government keep track of who’s dangerous and who’s not, there’s a whole lot of different things in there too.”

You knew this sort off stuff made him interested in humans, but he would never admit it.

“Are you dangerous?”

“The government seem to think so, that’s why I’m here. Perks off being the last of my kind.”

“The last of your kind, what does that mean?”

You opened your mouth to reply but you were stopped by Jarvis telling you there was a meeting you had to attend.

Turning your console off, you stood and smiled apologeticly at the God.

“Sorry Loki, I’ve gotta go. We’ll talk later.”

“Okay.”

The meeting was about a mission you guys would be doing in the up coming weeks that needed to planned very carefully first.

“Are there any questions?” Fury snapped.

“Yeah, I’ve got one. If we’re doing this as a stealth mission, I think it would be a good idea to bring Loki and Wanda along.” You spoke up.

“Wanda I get, but Loki?” Tony scoffed, “bad idea fire bird.”

“Hear me out.” You sighed. “We’re going to split into two groups, with these guys it’ll even it out. Steve and Tony, Nat and Clint, Thor and Wanda, Me and Loki. Since Bruce and Vision will be our eyes.”

You looked over at everyone else who seemed to be thinking about this.

“I think it’s a good idea, the more groups the quicker we can find he captive agents.” Steve nodded.

“Loki can’t be trusted on the field, who knows what he’ll do.” Fury growled.

“That’s why I put him with me, Loki and I get along the most.”

“You think he’ll listen to you?” Tony laughed, “he doesn’t listen to anyone, he’s unpredictable!”

“Trust me, I think it’s time we take Loki out. He’s been here for a while, locked in the tower. It’s time for him to start repenting for what he’s done.”

“It’s a stupid move.” Nat sighed, “I know you think it’ll help but we can’t risk it.”

You sighed, and ran a hand through your hair, shaking your head.

“You guys didn’t trust me either when I was first here, but you gave me a chance. Do the same for him, whatever happens I will take responsibility.”

“Full responsibility?” Fury questioned.

You didn’t even think when you gave a reply.

“Full responsibility.”

“Fine, Rogers brief those two now. (L/N) stay behind, every out.”

They all left and you stood face to face with Fury.

“If this goes wrong it’s on your head.”

“I know sir.”

With that, you left.

You could’ve just made a huge mistake, but you think he could really do some good. You trusted Loki to help you, and you were ready to accept Full responsibility for whatever he would do.

Making your way to the lab, you sat with Bruce.

“Ready for the test?” He asked.

“Let’s do it.”

When it came to he day off the mission, you found Loki stood in front of the jet with a small frown on his face.

“Loki?”

“Why bring me?” He asked, “for all you know I could betray you.”

“I trust you.” You smiled, “Come on, let’s sit.”

It started off well, no one had been found out, and you guys were slowly making progress. But when a guy who wasn’t meant to be outside came out it messed everything up.

“Change of plans, get there as fast as you can!” Steve yelled.

“Loki lets go!”

You started to run, but when you didn’t hear him following you or reply you started to worry.

Frantically you looked around, and you started to fear that he’d just up and left, and when you saw him surrounded by HYDRA that worry melted away into a worry for him.

You started to run towards him, your whole body lit up in flames.

“Loki duck!” You screamed.

You jumped high into the air, your body blew up with flames all around, and you emerged a giant red and orange bird.

With a screech, you dived down, knocking the Hydra agents off their feet while burning them.

Ones that hadn’t been taken down in your attack simply turned and ran in fear.

“How beautiful...” Loki whispered.

You looked down at him, folding your wings into your side as you dipped your head.

“May I?” He said, gesturing to your feathers.

You gave a slight nod, allowing him to find his fingers through the firy feathers while you scanned the area.

“Is this your true form?” He asked.

Again, you gave another nod and he smiled softly at you, taking a step back as you turned back into your human form.

“That is amazing, what are you?”

“A Phoenix.”

You guys started to walk towards the HYDRA compound.

You noticed Loki kept glancing at you, so you smiled softly at him and followed behind Tony and Steve.

“Take it he found out.” Tony snickered.

“Yeah, he did.” You laughed.

Everyone shook their heads, and Loki simply just smiled.

“Will you tell me more about it later?” He asked.

“Sure thing.”

He nodded, you were by far the most intriguing human he’d ever met

[aurumacadicus]

Beloveds, Warnings: Mentions of previous self-harm, mentions of eating disorders, mentions of suicidal ideation(?), abuse, general depression

--

Tony’s front door was unlocked.

Bucky swallowed down his fury, letting it out in a long, slow hiss from between his teeth. He stepped inside and locked it, decisively, before beginning into the house. There were open food takeout containers on the coffee tables, but luckily, all of the liquor bottles and wine were still locked up in the cabinet. He palmed the key on his necklace, just to remind himself it was there, then continued into the bedroom.

It looked like a hurricane had blown through, dirty clothes strewn everywhere except one chair, which was piled with laundered items. He only knew it was clean because the laundry service folded them. Bucky took a moment to clear the bed and floor of dirty clothes, sparing one irritated glance at the rest spread out throughout the room as he dumped them in the hamper. The service didn’t pick up his dirty clothes if they weren’t left for them. Tony must have been buying new clothes instead of just putting his dirty stuff out.

Tony was just standing in the stream of the water when he stepped into the bathroom. Bucky took a moment to just watch him, taking in the changes since he’d last seen him: he was heavier, but he’d needed it, because last time his ribs and collarbones had been standing out; his hair was longer, and the hot spray probably wasn’t doing his scalp any good, but at least it looked clean; there were no wounds on him that Bucky could see, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any on the inside of his thighs.

Bucky stepped forward, opened the shower door, and grabbed Tony by the throat, following him into the shower to shove him up against the tiles. “How many times do I have to tell you to lock your door?”

Tony clawed at his hand and wrist frantically, feet scrabbling over the slick floor. “B-ky,” he choked, eyes wide.

“A lock is the simplest barrier between you and someone who wants to hurt you and yet you continue to leave it open,” Bucky continued, ignoring his struggling. He had a firm grip on him. He wasn’t going to fall. “I should know. You’d be surprised how many locks I don’t have to pick in my line of business.” He let Tony scramble a little longer, just to drive his point home, then planted his foot where Tony’s own could come across it, the rubber sole holding steady so he could finally take on some of his own weight.

“I don’t care if someone comes in,” Tony choked out, scowling mulishly.

Bucky tightened his grip on his throat and shoved his head back against the tiles again. “I care. You’re mine, remember?”

Tony whimpered, pulling at his fingers uselessly before he sagged again. “Bucky-!”

“Look,” Bucky continued, ignoring him. “Once I’ve paid my debt to you, you can do whatever stupid shit you want. Until then, you need to stay alive so I can pay it.”

“You’re the one who took it upon himself to pay this debt,” Tony huffed, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t even have this so-called debt if you’d just let me--”

Bucky scoffed, giving his throat a squeeze to cut him off. “It is an affront that you would allow anyone but me to kill you.”

“You don’t want to kill me,” Tony choked out. He started wrestling with his grip again.

Bucky moved his foot back so that Tony sank an inch into his grip, and he waited for him to start whimpering in defeat before he shoved him back up. “You’re right. I don’t want to kill you. I want to love you, but I don’t know how anymore.” He huffed, frustrated. “Keeping you alive is the only way I know how.”

“Quite a compliment, a serial killer wanting to keep you alive against your will,” Tony grumbled, then winced when Bucky scowled at him. “I’m not trying to die, okay, I just--”

“You’re in a slump. I saw,” Bucky huffed. “You don’t care about anything. And that’s fine. I just need you to care about one thing.”

“You?” Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I just want you to care about locking your fucking door,” Bucky snarled, shaking him, and Tony whined, clinging to his arms to try and brace himself again. “I can take care of everything else. Just LOCK THE DOOR.”

“Fine!” Tony exclaimed helplessly, and he finally let him back down onto his feet fully.

“Good,” Bucky huffed. “I don’t know why you have to make everything so difficult.”

“It’s just how I am,” Tony muttered, scowling down at his feet. He sniffed, once, then whimpered, lifting his hands to cover his face.

Bucky sighed and pulled him into a hug. “C’mere.”

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” Tony whispered into his chest. “I don’t want to be this way.”

“I know,” Bucky assured, running his flesh hand up and down Tony’s spine the way he knew he liked it. “It’s not your fault. Let me look at you,” he added, easing him back and finally reaching out to turn the water off.

“I haven’t done anything,” Tony began, but sighed when Bucky merely raised a skeptical eyebrow and held his arms out for him to inspect.

Bucky took his wrists to twist his arms out further, just to check that he hadn’t cut anywhere not readily visible, then took a step back to peer between his thighs. There were no cuts, just a bruise, and he could have gotten that from anything, even one of his robots. He wasn’t trying to hide it, so it was probably fine. “Good boy,” he murmured, mostly to himself, but loud enough that Tony heard it and flushed with pleasure.

Tony apparently took in the fact that he’d stomped into the shower with his clothes on and frowned, concerned. “Is that your blood?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky said simply, and it looked like it physically caused Tony pain, but he closed his mouth.

Huh. Serial killer Bucky and depressed, morally gray Tony (in that “yeah I guess killing people is bad but you’re only killing Hydra scum and I can barely care about taking a shower so that’s a problem for anyone but me honestly”).

[ptergwen]

written in the stars

w/c: 2.7k

warnings: jus (lots of) making out

summary: using your newly acquired knowledge of astrology, you test your compatibility with tom

a/n: i was planning on making this a little blurb for y’all but then i got really into it and here we are lmfhfksjks i promise you don’t have to know anything about astrology or birth charts to enjoy cuz i broke it all down + it’s not the main focus of the fic anyways! this is mostly a day in the life with tommy boy and i hope you like it as much as i do :,) also some of this might be wrong.. i’m not an expert so yeah

•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

“right, so how does this work again?” tom watches your laptop screen with curious eyes.

you’ve been getting into astrology lately, and whatever you care about, so does he. that’s why you’re currently laid across your bed in sweats while you teach him everything you know. but first, you’ll need to do his birth chart. it’s the pinnacle of everything.

“you just have to tell me what time you were born, then it does the rest for me,” you grin, typing in the name of the website. you’d had to do some research to find a reliable one. “that’s it? you don’t need, like, my birthday or something?” tom quirks an eyebrow at the chart generator.

“i already know your birthday, babes.” you laugh softly and let your head fall onto his shoulder. “you crazy gemini.” “‘m not crazy.” he smiles despite himself, leaning his head on yours. “just got a big personality, innit? charming, clever, lots of energy,” he lists off the characteristics of his sign, which you just taught him. that lights up your whole face.

“definitely not cocky,” you deadpan, tom scrunching his nose in response. “look at you, remembering all that. you really are clever.” “well, it’s interesting.” he drapes an arm around you, fingers running up and down your side. “i quite like the idea of the universe knowing me so well.”

tapping your fingers on the keys, you hum. “you’ll love your birth chart, then. tell me when you were born.” tom grimaces and squeezes at your waist. “i don’t actually know.” “how do you not know?” you flick his back playfully, making him flinch. he pokes you so you’re even. “i’ve never thought to ask. guess i’m not that clever after all.”

those are teasing words, but you press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. he gladly accepts it and gives you one on the side of your neck.

“no, your head’s gigantic. there’s gotta be something up there.” you knock on his skull for emphasis, your hand tangling in his hair. tom lets out a breathy chuckle. “hot air,” he explains as your fingers run through the messy locks. “you’re so...” you don’t even have the words. tom does. “hilarious? witty? amusing?” he tries to finish, tilting his head back to look at you.

“yeah, all of the above,” you confer and bring your hand back down to the keyboard. your lips curve into a smirk when tom whines. he’s the biggest baby, and he makes no attempt to hide it. “why don’t you text your mom and ask for your time of birth?” you suggest, tom pursing his lips in agreement. “sure, i’ll give mum a ring. i bet she loves this stuff, too.”

you roll over to lay on your back, tom still on his stomach. he pulls his phone from his pocket and opens imessage. “ah, nikki’s an astrogirl?” you wonder. tom makes a funny face at the term. “is that what you call yourselves?” “not really. well, not officially.” giggling, you loop your fingers around his wrist. “you can be an astroboy, if you want. or girl.”

tom sighs and leans over so his face hovers above yours. “god, you’re adorable. how are you so cute?” he gently pecks your lips. you’re about to kiss back, then he moves off to your cheek. after that is your forehead, chin, and finally down the bridge of your nose. it leaves you out of breath from laughter and with warm skin.

“i can’t answer that if you’re gonna launch a kiss attack on me-“

tom’s lips capture yours in a proper kiss, which you now get the chance to reciprocate. you hold him in place with your hands on his cheeks. his eyes instantly flutter closed and lashes tickle your face. the feeling draws another giggle out of you, and right into his mouth.

“absolutely gorgeous,” tom mutters against your lips. “anyone ever tell you that?” “you do, tommy. all the time.” your voice comes out gravelly, breathless, a grin painting your face. it transfers to tom. “mm, that’s right. my pretty baby.” he’s beaming down at you. he moves on top of you swiftly, his weight held up by his elbows on your sides.

you pull apart so you can go back in harder, hands situating in his curls again. tom grabs at your hips while the kiss deepens. your legs wrap around his waist clad in joggers and allow your bodies to be even closer together. the less space between you two, the needier you both get. “love,” tom parts his lips for you. “can i get a little more?” “course you can, tommy.” your fingers tug at his curls, mouth opening slightly.

his tongue skims its way across your lower lip, asking for access. you give his hair another pull to grant it. tom lets his tongue slip into your mouth, searching for your own as his hands continue to roam your body. he’s gone from gently peppering you in kisses to fully eating your face. no complaints, though. a quiet whimper escapes you when your tongues clash.

tom starts to push up your t-shirt, eyes opening to meet yours for approval. they’re completely darkened. you nod because you can’t answer with words. your tongue is preoccupied, intertwined with his. he sets his hands on your bare stomach, your nails scratching at tom’s scalp in a way that elicits a low groan.

“feels good?” your words come out muffled, barely audible. tom still understands them. “so good,” he rasps, calloused fingers dragging along your skin. they start to move up your body as you brush your lips against his. the kiss is light, and tom’s lips feel swollen as they move. his hands are nearing your chest, your legs tightening around his waist.

it earns another sinful noise from him. you want to see just how much he’s enjoying himself, so you peek up at him. what a sight that is. his faced twisted up as he focuses on kissing you, strands of hair stuck to his forehead from your playing with it. he’s so beautiful, and deserves to know. before you can tell him, you see his phone light up from the corner of your eye.

“tom,” you mumble his name. he’s too distracted by searching for your bra hook to hear. “tommy?” you’re louder this time, his mouth moving off of yours. “what is it, love?” tom exhales, hot breath hitting your face. “i think your mom texted back.” you offer a smile and run your thumb over his plumped lips. he only squints at you.

“about your time of birth,” you clarify. “for your birth chart.” “oh, that.” he kisses your thumb, nodding to himself. “forgot we were doing that.” tom tends to get a bit carried away with anything you related. making out can go on for hours and down many different paths, but it’s not the only thing. he’s a man in love, and the woman he shares that with gets all his attention at any given time. you’re so lucky to receive it.

you nod back and feel his racing heart as it beats against yours. “if you still want to, yeah.” “i definitely do. wanna hear you say more nice things about me,” tom jokes, a smug grin pulling at his lips. your eyes narrow. “who says they’ll be nice?” you challenge and earn a snicker from him.

“alright, missy. can you hand me my phone please?” he drops his head onto your chest, big brown eyes gazing up at you. “yes, sir.” you pat his cheek and grab his phone from next to you. tom’s contact name for nikki is set as ‘Ma x’, which brings a toothy smile to your face. “here you go.” you dangle his phone above his head. tom takes it from you promptly. “thanks.”

after leaving a couple of kisses on your clothed chest, he rolls to lay next to you. “let’s see, let’s see,” he murmurs, reading his mom’s messages. you scoot closer so you can look. “ooh, lots of crying emojis,” tom remarks. “i think you made her kinda nostalgic.” you pout at the screen. copying your face, he clicks on a picture nikki attached.

“she even pulled out the birth certificate.” he shows you his phone, and you zoom in to see when he was born. “big stuff here,” you say while you read. tom takes the time to get comfortable, resting his chin on your shoulder. “looks like you popped out in the middle of the night,” you conclude, giving him his phone back. he clicks his tongue at you.

“don’t say popped out.” feigning innocence, you glance over at him. “too late.” tom types out a reply thanking his mom before tossing his phone aside. “middle of the night makes sense, though.” he bites the inside of his cheek. “i’ve always been a party animal, haven’t i?” you turn onto your side and put a hand on his chest.

“it’s in your gemini nature. or really, your tom nature.” tom does an over exaggerated wink. “i like the sound of that.” he chuckles when you hit at his chest. “bring the laptop. let’s get this thing going.” you huff as you reach over him to grab it. you’ve switched positions so you’re laying horizontally on your stomach and over his legs, your laptop in front of you.

“if we find out there’s any scorpio in you...” you shutter. “hm? what’s wrong with scorpios?” tom wonders, watching you plug his birth time into the generator. “they’re literally insane, tom. like, serial killer insane. there’s statistics.” your eyes go wide as you hit enter. he leans his head back on his arms with a wince. “never mind, then.”

a small gasp leaves your lips, you squeezing tom’s knee. “it’s done.” “what does it say? share with the audience,” tom requests so you do your thing. you’re eager to get to it, turning the laptop to show him his birth chart. “ok, so.” you point at a box a few places down. “this is your rising sign, which is basically how other people see you.”

tom reads the chart, moving his own finger along the screen. “it says i’m a... taurus. what are those like?” “in one word? boring,” you summarize, tom only frowning. “kidding, kidding.” his frown fades into a small smile at that. “they’re known for being super nice and chill... also stubborn,” you tell him and prop your head in your hand.

“so, that makes no sense. those are complete opposites,” tom comments, slipping out from under you. he settles by your side. “i don’t get how i can be a gemini and a taurus, either.” “weird, right?” you sigh in content as his hand comes to stay on the small of your back. “very strange. do you think it could be wrong?”

“are you questioning the universe’s plan?” you tease, tom drumming his fingers on you. “yes, i am.” “see, you’re stubborn! taurus things.” you scroll down to his moon sign before he can protest. tom sticks out his tongue and tries to lick your cheek, which you stop by putting your hand in his face. “next is your moon sign,” you laugh out, ignoring his boyish behavior.

“that controls your emotions and private thoughts,” you elaborate and look presently surprised when you see what tom’s is. “yours is sagittarius. that’s a cool one.” “is it? how come?” tom sneaks a few kisses down the shell of your ear. “you guys are really open-minded and into things that challenge you.” he nods, signaling for you to go on. you turn onto your back so you’re looking up at him.

“you’re all about your freedom, though. it’s hard to hold you down for too long.” grinning, tom brings his face into your line of vision. “that must mean you’re a real force because i’m not going anywhere.” he nudges your nose with his, lips ghosting over yours. you return the smile and meet him halfway for your lips to connect. “anytime soon,” tom adds on in a whisper, kissing back easily.

this one doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t need to. it’s just one of those kisses that makes you feel each other’s love, no matter how you go about it. they’re essentially your own made up love language.

you’re still smiling when your lips detach, fingers combing through tom’s tussled locks. “now that we’ve done the big three...” you preface. “androids, aliens, and wizards?” tom jokes, you breathing out a laugh. you’d thought he had a soft spot for sam and bucky. your suspicions were correct.

“cute, but no. your sun sign, moon sign, and rising sign,” you explain to him. “sure, sure. what about them?” tom toys with the hem of your shirt while you think. a mischievous glint in your eyes, you suddenly sit up. “since you know yours, and i know mine, how about we test our compatibility?”

tom is well aware of what that means, and he isn’t so sure he’d like to do it. he’s someone who believes in cliches like soulmates and fate, so he’ll take your results seriously. after the lessons on astrology you gave him, especially.

his heart will always hold a special place for you and you only. nothing will change that. but, what if the universe says you can’t be together? where do you go from there?

“um,” tom presses his lips into an uncertain line. you’re already getting your laptop. “i mean, do we want to know? what if we’re not...” you come back over to him with both eyebrows furrowed. “compatible?” “yeah” he hesitates before answering, which tells you he’s nervous.

“it’s just for fun, tommy,” you assure him and press a quick kiss to his lips. “besides, if anyone could defy the odds, it would be us.” tom perks up a bit, sitting up next to you. “you think we’re that strong, huh?” “absolutely. do you?” you’re already sure what he’s going to say. he pulls you into his lap, kissing at your hair and letting it linger. “one hundred percent. i’ll do it.”

you put your laptop in your own lap with a grin. tom’s arms hold you by your middle. “ok, here we go,” you mutter, searching for a good compatibility calculator. it doesn’t take long to find one. “remember, this all a bunch of theories. our love goes beyond what a stupid website tells us, okay?” you remind him, his arms tightening around you.

“okay. i love you,” tom speaks into your hair. “you’re so good at saying exactly what i need to hear. how do you do it?” “i love you too, and that’s a secret i’ll never tell.” you take one of his hands and bring it to your lips. tom’s leg bounces while you plug your three signs and his into the calculator. before hitting the calculate option, you look at him over your shoulder.

“ready?” your finger hovers over the cursor. you know how much these things mean to him, so you want to be positive that he is. “can we do it together?” tom asks shyly, which is highly uncharacteristic of him. “sure, baby. on the count of three.” you wait for him to place his hand over yours. he grips it tight, then you start to count. “one... two... three.”

the two of you click calculate at the same time, your results taking a few seconds to load. “love, i’m so nervous. i can’t look.” tom dips his head down so yours is blocking his view. you lightheartedly roll your eyes. “it’s fine, tom. i’m sure we’ll-“ the screen changes to display your compatibility rating, you cutting yourself off. he slowly creeps out from behind you.

“oh, god. are they in? what’s it say?” tom grabs onto your waist, feeling vibrations from you giggling. you shake your head at the website. “it’s really good... almost a perfect match. told you we’re meant to be.” he joins in your laughter, an endless amount of kisses going down the side of your head. “now, it’s written in the stars. we’re untouchable!”

he’s flipping you over so he lays above you, lips colliding messily with yours for the millionth time today. you don’t mind, though. you could do this a million more. “a power couple,” you continue for him between another peck of his lips. “always have been,” tom corrects and shuts you up again with his mouth on yours.

your hand reaches up for him, but doesn’t make it as the passionate kiss he’s giving you takes your breath away. he locks your fingers together instead, whispering one last thing.

“always will be.”

[tricksters-captain]

Bucky Barnes imagines - Don’t Flatter Yourself, Doll

AN: I hope you enjoy something a little different 

Summary: You and Bucky have always clashed. After a mission goes wrong things get heated between you two. 

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Sam xPlatonic!Reader

Word Count: 1,787

Warnings: ANGST, strong language, some violence, Smut, hate sex, unprotected sex, no foreplay, choking

“You’re really gonna storm off like that and say it’s my fault!?” Bucky scoffed at you as he tried to catch up to you. 

“It was completely your fault! If you hadn't gotten in my way then––” 

“––If I hadn’t gotten in your way?!” Bucky threw his leather jacket down on his seat as you separated in the aircraft. “If you had stuck to the plan and did what you were supposed to do we wouldn’t be leaving empty handed.”

“If I had stuck to the plan you would be roadkill right now.” You snapped back at him as you unarmed yourself. “Perhaps that would’ve been better because at least then I wouldn’t have to deal with your miserable ass and constant staring!”  

“Oh please!” Bucky huffed. “If I wasn’t around to constantly save you from one bad guy or another you'd be dead right now.” 

“Save me?!” The words made your head spin round to glare at Bucky. “That’s rich, Buck. If I recall you’re the one who always needs saving whether it was Steve or now Sam!” 

“Sam doesn’t save me!” Bucky’s nostrils flared as he strode towards you. You stood your ground, folding your arms across your chest as you stared up at the man. 

“Oh yeah? Just last week Sam had to tackle you from a speeding truck because a little girl beat you down.” You reminded him of the incident with the flagsmashers. 

“They were super soldiers!” Bucky argued, “And if I remember correctly you were thrown from the same truck.”

“Will you two quit it?!” Sam entered the aircraft finally, folding in his wings as he glowered at the both of you. “It’s both your faults we are in this mess.” 

“But he––!”

“––Shut it, (Y/n)! You know I normally agree with you rather than white panther over there–”

“–White Wolf–”

“–But you messed up. We were this close to finally getting somewhere and you both let it slip away.” Sam didn’t want to hear another argument from either of you so climbed up to the cockpit of the aircraft to get away from you both. 

“See, even your best bud said you were the one who ruined this for us.” Bucky threw his hand up in the direction of the ladder. 

“Shut the hell up, Bucky!” You dropped your arms as your anger jumped out. 

“Not so tough now you haven’t got Sam on your side.” Bucky didn’t stop. 

“I don’t need anyone on my side. He said that you fucked it up too. This just proves that if you weren’t here, the mission would’ve worked out the way it was supposed to.” You growled as you turned away from the man. 

“God you’re so infuriating!” Bucky gripped hold of your upper arm and tugged you around so you would face him. 

“Take your hand off me.” You said in a low voice, warning him. 

“Or what?” Bucky only tightened his grip. 

You shrugged before sending your fist into the man’s jaw.

Bucky stumbled back, chuckling harshly before he finally snapped. 

He surged forward, taking hold of both your arms and slamming you against the wall behind you. 

You stared straight into his eyes. Your chest heaving up and down as you tried to stay calm under his grip. 

“You really think fighting me is going to make this better?” Bucky asked through gritted teeth. 

“No but it’ll sure as hell make me feel better.” You retorted. 

Bucky smirked, sticking his tongue out of his lips as he looked away from you for a moment. 

“I should’ve just left you in the water.” Bucky’s words cut you deeper when you realised what he meant. 

Bucky had pulled both you and Steve from the water that day years ago when the Helicarriers crashed. 

“Well, the only reason I didn’t kill you when I had the chance was because of Steve.” You spat back. “But he isn't here anymore.”

“Like you’d ever have a chance––”Bucky looked back in your eyes and you took that moment to lift your feet and send them into the man’s stomach, pushing him off you. 

Bucky stumbled back, groaning at the impact of the kick in his stomach. 

You went past him, heading towards the ladder when Bucky grabbed your shoulder to keep you there. You staggered backwards at the strength of the pull but knelt down swiftly to swipe your legs under Bucky, sending him to the floor. 

Before you could even lift your foot to continue walking, Bucky’s hand snatched your ankle and brought you down with him. 

His remaining hand grabbed your other foot and pulled you down towards him. He scrambled on top of you but you used the opportunity to roll you both over, linking your legs with his arms to flip you. 

You sat with your thighs either side Bucky’s neck as you sat on his chest. 

Bucky used his enhanced strength to grip hold of your thighs with his arms before flipping you over onto the ground. 

The impact of your back hitting the hard metal floor made you lose your breath for a second but it was enough time for Bucky to secure his place on top of you. 

His legs weighed down your own, his large hands pinned down your wrists above your head and his dog tags were hitting your neck as he glared down at you. 

The air was thick from the both of your panting hot air.

You watched Bucky’s eyes flicker down to your lips and before you realised what was happening, his lips were on your own. 

Your small gasp of surprised allowed Bucky’s tongue to surpass your lips. The taste of him sent an electricity through your entire body and you kissed him back.

“I heard a bang, You guy’s haven’t killed each other down there, have you?” Sam opened the hatch and called down to you both.

Bucky stopped kissing you and you both jumped apart, rushing to your feet. 

“Not that I’d mind at this point because frankly you’re both a pain in my ass but...” Sam continued as he hadn't heard a response. 

“No, we’re fine.” You were the one to speak up as you tried to steady your breath. 

Both you and Bucky had stood apart but you had your eyes locked on each other. 

You felt something stirring inside you at Bucky’s dark gaze.

“Look you guys can hash it out for all I care just don’t hurt each other we still have stuff to do.” Sam said before you heard the hatch close again. 

There was a moment of just silence. A moment that felt like eternity before Bucky rushed towards you once again. 

His lips found yours, you wrapped your hands round the back of his neck as he picked you up and pressed you against the curved steel wall. 

His cold metal hand slid down your side and then pulled your t-shirt up to allow access to your skin. The coolness of the Vibranium sent goosebumps over your skin as he took hold of your breast.

You bit down on Bucky’s lip, scraping your teeth against the soft flesh as you tugged lightly. Bucky growled, his hand finding your neck to keep you pinned against the wall.

There was a devilish glint in your eyes that made Bucky insatiable. 

He kissed you once again, his hands tearing your t-shirt over your head, his mouth then moving to the exposed flesh of your neck and collarbone. 

Your own hands darted to the bottom of Bucky’s shirt and soon it was removed, revealing Bucky’s chiselled torso that you had seen before but never this close. 

Bucky bit down on your shoulder as he tried to undo your pants. He pulled away a moment, setting you back on your feet to help remove the garment. 

You kicked them off, instantly dropping to your knees to help Bucky with his own. 

You unbuttoned his jeans and went to drag them down when Bucky yanked you back to up his face. He kissed you as he removed his own pants, pulling his length free from his boxer briefs. 

As Bucky’s teeth grazed your jaw, you looked down to see how large his member was and you felt your core ache with need. 

“Fuck me already.” You hissed as you pulled the man’s head back by his hair. Bucky groaned at at the sudden pain but then darkly laughed.

“You didn’t say please.” Bucky smirked as he lifted your leg up in a swift motion. Pushing your panties to the side, his member was pressing against your wet sex, he was teasing you.

“Bite me.” You snarled back at him and with that he thrust his whole length inside of you. 

You winced and whined out in a mixture of pain and pleasure. You threw your head back, letting your eyes roll back with it and Bucky soaked in every second of your reaction. 

He only waited a second for you to adjust before he started thrusting inside of you. You gripped onto his shoulders, the cold metal of his left arm seemed to burn against your hot skin as he held onto you and the wall. 

“God...” Bucky moaned as you moved your hips with his. 

You let go of Bucky and found his right hand with your own. Bucky furrowed his brow in confusion as you moved it but didn’t stop pumping in and out of you. 

You placed his hand against your neck and Bucky soon realised what you wanted. 

He squeezed lightly as he fucked you hard. 

He couldn’t stop himself from watching your face twist in pleasure as he roughly thrusted against you. Your nails dug deep into his skin as you felt your stomach begin to tense. 

Bucky’s hips were becoming sloppy as sweat beaded on his forehead. You were both so close. 

His deep thrusts allowed his member to hit that sweet spot inside of you and you cried out as he did. You felt yourself curl around him and you squeezed your eyes shut as your climax rolled over you. Your walls pulsed around Bucky which only encouraged Bucky’s own finish. 

Bucky came inside of you, filling you with his hot speed as he let is forehead drop to your shoulder. 

Bucky let himself catch his breath against before he pulled out of you. He tugged up his pants, moving away from you and tossed you over your t-shirt from the floor. 

“This doesn't mean I like you.” You said through your heavy breaths as you redressed yourself. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, doll.” Bucky retorted as he too put on his t-shirt.

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