#it is honestly kind of embarrassing that I never really looked to Dracula as a potential source of how to STOP being a vampire

[marypsue]

You know, for years I've been thinking "the whole half-vampire situation and 'kill the head vampire and free any half-vampires' thing in The Lost Boys is so unique, I've never seen that particular approach to vampire turning in any other vampire story, and it really fits the story well, I wonder how they came up with it" and.

It's Dracula. It's literally just what happens in Dracula. Michael Emerson and Mina Harker 'having to kill the master vampire whose blood (which you ingested) is slowly turning you into a creature of the night in order to become human again' handshake meme.

[kitseddie]

This Must Be The Place

Chapter 7: Invisible String

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 8

(Eddie Munson X GN!Reader)

Summary: You get to know the kids a little better and Steve urges you to confront your feelings about Eddie.

W/C: 3.3K

Warnings: I use italics so much. So so much. I’m trying to stop but it’s in my blood.

A/N: It’s kind of filler but it’s also cute! There’s a lot of platonic Steve/Reader going on but don’t worry…you’ll see why…

Starcourt was a new development that was built about a year before you moved back to Hawkins. It was certainly a change of pace in the town, considering up until now you were lucky to find a strip mall. Huge would be an understatement, not really anything groundbreaking compared to most malls but certainly big given the territory. It was bright and loud and filled to the brim with families and teenagers enjoying their spring break. You would have loved to wander around to window-shop, and see the stores for yourself, but no. You were standing outside The Game Player with Steve and the kids. For the past two hours.

“Remind me why I agreed to this again?”. For a small store, you’d never seen a line so long. And you’d all been here since the mall opened.

“Oh, you didn’t want to spend your spring break standing in line for a stupid video game?”. Steve teased as you rolled your eyes and smirked, the kids all scoffing as you sighed.

“Did you guys completely ignore me earlier? Dracula is the first video game to ever have a 15 rating. And since some of us are late bloomers, we need adults and you’re the closest we got.” The kids had been raving about this new game since it was announced, it was so violent that they even pushed for an R Rating but ended up settling on 15.

Lucas was already 15 and Will had his birthday the month before, leaving you and Steve to be the ones buying Mike and Dustin’s copies. They were lucky that the security guards didn’t care enough to figure out that they were both standing in line, clearly waiting to buy a game they were too young to be playing.

When you drew closer to the door, Dustin quickly rummaged around his pockets and handed you some crumpled-up bills thanking you before he and Mike left to avoid suspicion. Steve shook his head, letting the kids go ahead and get their games. It was kinda sweet to see their goofy smiles as they wandered out with the game in their hands, excitedly talking about all the things they’d heard about it through the grapevine.

“After you.” Steve bowed as you giggled and headed inside, noticing all the teenagers losing their shit over some lame vampire game. Honestly, you were kinda curious to see what all the fuss was about, but with such high demand it was only one per customer and you were looking forward to seeing Dustin’s face when you handed him his copy. Steve buys Mike’s and you both head to the ice cream place, handing your copies to the boys.

“You’re the best!.” Dustin squealed as he squeezed you into a hug and you awkwardly hugged back, slowly moving him off you. Your eyes looked up at the ice cream place and you giggled at the silly sailor uniforms. “Hey Steve, Do you still get a discount at scoops? I think we should have a celebratory sundae”. Your neck almost snapped with how quickly you turned to face him, still get a discount?

“You’re kidding.” Steve held the bridge of his nose between his fingers and closed his eyes, hoping if he tried hard enough he could make himself disappear. The grin on your face couldn’t possibly be any wider, thinking about the endless amount of teasing that was in store.

“Unfortunately…Henderson is right. Robin and I used to sling ice cream before we started working at Family Video.” Oh, this was juicy. This was amazing.

“Stevie. I’m dying to know…” Your eyes looked over at the uniforms and you held your breath in excitement. “Did you have to wear the sailor’s hat?”. He sighed and stared back at you, embarrassed by how much you were loving this.

“Well…it was company policy.” You burst into laughter as he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, attempting to ignore you. Dustin joined in and told you all about his personal scooper and the awful shorts. It was almost impossible to hold back the tears as you tried to picture it. When he seemed to get a little tired from the teasing you pouted and gave him a hearty side hug.

“Aw Steve, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I think it’s really uh…noble of you to work a job like that. Certainly builds character.” He waved you off and you pecked his cheek and smirked at his grumpy face. The boys shared some stares that you chose not to dwell on and you went inside for some sundaes whilst they waited for the girls to join.

You’d spoken to Dustin more than the other kids, bonding over D&D, Lord of the rings and Star Wars. He hung around with Steve the most, meaning you saw him more than anyone else. But you wanted to get to know them all, they were friends with Robin and Eddie too and they all seemed pretty cool for their age. When Lucas and Mike started their own conversation, you noticed Will sitting quietly staring at his copy of Dracula. You moved closer to him and looked back at Steve, checking if it was a good time to approach him.

“I have to admit it does look pretty cool…”. Will’s big brown eyes widened as he lifted his head to look at you, he was tall. Looked a lot older than most of the kids, but he still was the youngest at heart. You could see it in his stare. “Your brother told me you guys used to play video games a lot when you were younger, what was it called…Cosmic something?”.

“Cosmic Ark.” He finished, feeling more comfortable at the mention of his older brother. You nodded with an ‘ahh’ as he bowed his head and then lifted it again. “There’s this arcade that we go to a lot, it has Dragon’s Lair and Pac-man and Max beat Dustin’s high score on Dig Dug it was crazy.” You beamed back at him, happy to see him open up to you. You still hadn’t spoken to Max. She was the most reserved out of all the group and you didn’t want to do anything to scare her off, so you were taking baby steps.

“Well, when Eddie and I were kids we would go to this little arcade near the trailer park and I would kick his ass at Star Raiders.” After that you fell into a lengthy conversation about video games, even Steve piped up and admitted he liked Donkey Kong Jr and would sometimes make the top 10 on the leaderboard whilst he waited for the kids to finish up.

Once the ice cream was eaten and the kids met up with Max and El, you waved them goodbye and had to find some time to kill until they needed a ride home. Steve had to do some errands for his parents and you just had to check out the new records at Sam Goody, so you parted ways and headed to your destinations. The collection was insane and you found one album you hadn’t had a chance to buy yet. You gasped to yourself holding Metallica's ‘Master of Puppets’ in your hands when a voice broke you out of your daze.

“Wow, see this is rare, finding someone in Hawkins who has good taste. Maybe you could give me some recommendations?” You chuckled, rolling your eyes, turning to face the guy behind you as you covered your mouth in shock. The tips of his ears and the apple of his cheeks blushed red as you burst out laughing.

“Were you…oh my god was that you flirting?”. His mouth opened but he struggled to make any sound. “Aw Eds, don't be embarrassed! Come on, I think it was sweet.” He covered his face and bowed his head, regretting his life choices in the middle of the record store.

“I didn't…I didn’t know it was you! Fuck, I’m never living this down am I?”. You chuckled and shook your head with a small smile, bringing him in for a big hug. He was adamant still trying to rid the redness from his cheeks, but sighed and hugged back before you dragged him to the metal section.

As you bowed your head he took a second to breathe you in, you looked so pretty when you were focused. When you lifted your head to look at him, he glanced back down at the vinyl and you admired him all the same. His ringed fingers skimmed through the albums until he smirked to himself, looking at Motörhead’s, Bomber. You looked over as he held it up with the sweetest smile and you felt an odd fuzzy feeling in your chest. It reminded you of Halloween 1979.

It was October 31st. You and Eddie had spent all night trick or treating and ended the night by teepeeing some of the rich kids' houses. With a firm high five and a hearty laugh, you both ride your bikes back to the trailer park where you found Uncle Wayne sitting outside Eddie’s having a smoke. His smile is wide, which wasn't uncommon when it came to you both but this particular night Wayne’s smile had some meaning behind it. You entered the trailer and headed towards Eddie’s room to sort through your candy bars when his uncle took a deep breath and smiled back at you.

“Happy birthday son”. He grinned, patting him on the back as he handed him the record. It was one of the first ones Eddie ever got. He’d had hundreds of cassettes that he made when he listened to the metal stations but nothing was like the real thing. Eddie’s eyes lit up as you both morphed your faces into pleading looks, he sighed and shook his head.

“Alright, fine. Just don’t play it too loud ya hear?”. Without a second thought, you rushed into Eddie’s room and bounced on this mattress in excitement. There blossomed his ever-growing collection of vinyl and tapes, it also happened to be the same year that Corroded Coffin performed at the middle school talent show.

You plucked it from his hands as he furrowed his eyebrows as you pleasantly skipped to the counter with it and the new Metallica record. Almost immediately after you placed the money on the counter, he leaned over your shoulder and slapped his hand on top. “And what do you think you’re doing?”. He gave you a look of warning as he slowly pulled some money from his pocket and handed it to the worker behind the register. He gave her a charming smile and a wink and started to walk off with the bag before you barrelled towards him.

“Not funny Munson! I actually wanted those records.” You huffed as you sighed to yourself, you didn't know what game he was playing but you didn't like it. Suddenly he stopped in the middle of the mall, and you backed straight into him. When you got your bearings you noticed him resting on one knee and bowing to you, holding the bag of vinyl as if it were an ancient sword.

“Your majesty”. You widen your eyes in shock, trying to not seem phased by the public gesture. Before anyone else could look at you, your hand grabbed the bag and you sighed looking down at the grinning metalhead.

“Your offerings have pleased the crown.” You muttered, using your arm to mimic a knighting as he bowed his head and thanked you as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He rose to his feet and you felt yourself shrink as he towered over you, his eyes met yours as you looked back at each other and he opened his mouth to speak.

“Oh, there you are!”. Steve shouted from across the way, he quickly caught up with you before glancing over at Eddie. “Oh, Munson. Didn’t know you were around. Hey, how come you weren't waiting in line for that stupid game with us?”. He grinned and opened his black metal lunchbox, waving around his copy.

“Because I know a guy”. You gasped and immediately gripped it from his hands to look over it, as much shit as you were talking this morning you actually wanted to see it for yourself. “Alright grabby, we can play it later. Stop hogging it.” He pulled it from your grubby hands as you groaned in protest and Steve grinned smugly watching you go back and forth.

“Little shits need a ride to the arcade, I thought maybe we could stop by the diner again?”. Eddie’s face dropped slightly at the mention of the diner, he wished it didn't bother him but it still gave him this nasty feeling in his chest. You brought Eddie into a hug and whispered in his ear.

“Don’t you dare start that game without me.” You threatened as you could feel him smirk, holding you against him. He chuckled back, his breath tickling your ear as he spoke.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart”. He whispered back as you started to grin like a fool. You waved goodbye as you and Steve headed to the parking lot and piled into your cars.

—

Steve rode with Mike, Will and El and you drove Max, Lucas and Dustin. Max and Lucas were pretty cute, as much as she pretended that she didn’t care you could tell that she was crazy about her little boyfriend. This however was extremely unbearable for Dustin, who sat in the front passenger seat without even asking. But it was okay you didn’t mind, you started up the car as metal blasted from the speakers and everyone yelled at you to shut it off.

“Relax! Relax! I’ll turn it down but I’m not shutting it off…it’s a good song.” His eyes glanced over you, thinking back to when Eddie gave him a ride home from D&D. The same song blasting from his speakers, it was silly how much you were alike. He was wondering how long it would take for you to figure out how perfect you are for each other, or until he had to pull a parent trap on you.

“So you kids got any crazy spring break plans? Other than playing your thrilling new video game.” Your fingers subconsciously tapped against the steering wheel, almost a perfect mimic of Eddie as Dustin shook his head with a smirk.

“Well when we were biking through the woods we saw this amazing treehouse and we thought maybe we could build one ourselves. We just need like…a lot of materials…and muscle.” A smile graced your face as you had plan.

“Oh my god, I have an absolutely genius idea! Wayne helped me and Eddie build a treehouse when we were younger, it’s still up in the woods by the trailer park! It needs a little TLC but I think with some teamwork we can fix her up real nice”. Everyone seemed super excited and thankful and you spent the rest of the ride talking about the plans for what it was going to look like and what kinda cool things it would have inside.

Before you could draw up the blueprints you drove into the arcade parking lot and let the kids wander inside. They all said their thank yous and continued to discuss their new D.I.Y project, whilst Steve signalled for you to tail him to the diner and you happily obliged. It had quickly become a regular hang-out spot for you both and the food was to die for. Which was kind of ironic considering it was so bad for your cholesterol that dying at the hands of it wasn’t that unlikely.

“So…are we gonna talk about Eddie?”. Steve wasted no time cutting to the chase.

“So...are you gonna finish that?”. You quizzed back, making intense eye contact with his crinkle-cut fries. The last batch of crinkle-cut fries in the diner, it so happens. He sighed and moved his food away from you, using it as leverage.

“You’re dodging the question.” He moaned, rolling his eyes as you seemed more interested in his lunch than you did in what he had to say.

“And you’re hogging the fries.” You pawed at the basket under his arm as he moved it further away from you. His eyes looked like a warning, as you slumped your shoulders like a little kid.

“Share with me and I’ll share with you, capisce?”. You groaned at his stern face, resting your back against the booth.

“I should never have shown you The Godfather”. You muttered under your breath, eyeing his fries and weighing your options. With another glance you met his eyes and felt that sincerity, they silently told you “this is a safe place” and you believed that.

Fuck, there wasn’t any getting out of this.

“We’re just making up for lost time.” You muttered, his head lifting to look back at you. His eyes burnt into your soul as you felt a little swarm of anxiety in your gut. “I just…I like things the way they are. I don’t understand why everyone is so obsessed with us. We’re just two adults who care for each other and enjoy each other's company. Why does it always have to be more than that?.” Steve’s eyes dotted around the room as he sighed to himself.

“So you don’t want it to be more than that?”. It was a simple question, but enough to shut you up. “I’ll take those fries now.” You pulled at his basket and started to dig in, filling your mouth with food so you wouldn’t be held responsible for not answering his question. And he cared about you, he really thought that talking would help but you were stubborn. So he dropped it, but not without swearing to himself that he would get you to talk. Sooner or later.

“Miss Byers is having a sort of get-together for Jonathan’s birthday. Him and Argyle are coming back from Cali and they’re staying for a few days. I think it would be cool for you to meet her and Eddie will be there too…” It was a sweet suggestion but you were still so new to the friend group, Jonathan was cool but you didn’t know him super well. Steve sensed your anxiety and shook his head, trying to get you to relax. “It’s not anything crazy, and you don’t have to feel pressured. I just thought it could kinda be like an initiation into the group.” Your smile grew wide as you struggled to contain the fuzzy feeling in your heart.

“Stevie. I’ve been here for a month and you already want me to be part of your group?”. He shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world and you let out a small sigh. “Yeah Harrington, I’ll come to your party”. He pumped his fist in the air with excitement as you chuckled at how ridiculous he looked.

“I think this calls for a celebration.” Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a quarter and slid it into the jukebox, flicking through the songs until he found the perfect one. He landed on Chic’s, Good Times mimicking a bad disco dance as you laughed and covered your face in embarrassment, he started moving out of his seat as you considered bolting for the door. “You better dance with me or I’ll start singing.” You knew by the look he gave you he was not kidding, you quickly ran over to him and he chuckled and grabbed your hand spinning you under his arm.

“Asshole.” You muttered with a grin as he stuck out his tongue and you did the same back, watching him let go of your hands busting out some more disco moves. God, he was a dork and a terrible dancer, but he was also a really cool guy and you were glad you got to call him your friend.

Taglist: @honey-eyed-munson

Comment if you wanna be added to the Taglist!

[canary0]

May 11 – Dracula 2023

(A/N: I wrote this not feeling super well, fair warning.)

Discord Exchange Between Miss Mina Murray and Miss Lucy Westenra

Lucy: Mina!

Lucy: Mina?

Lucy: Boo. It looked like you were online. You’re probably in bed already.

Mina: I’m up, I’m still up. Apologies, it took me a minute to dig up my phone.

Lucy: Buried in paperwork?

Mina: Trying to get ahead on it. Year end is coming up, and I want to not have a bunch of work on my mind when I come up. :) How are things over there?

Lucy: The weather’s been nice, so I’ve been getting out more. We’ve been going to art galleries, walks in the park, just getting out and exploring.

Mina: “We”? Is that the tall, curly-haired man?

Lucy: Honestly, you’re so persistent! A certain someone must have been blabbing.

Mina: It’s not impossible. ;) You really don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.

Lucy: No… honestly, I’ve been wanting to talk about it so much! But you know how it is…

Mina: I do. It’s okay. <3

Lucy: All right, so the tall, curly haired man in question is Mr. Holmwood. He comes by often, and he and mamma get along like a house on fire. Oh! The other day we met a man I think you would have gotten on with like a house on fire.

Mina: Oh? You know you can’t go around trying to set me up anymore.

Lucy: Oh, I know, you and Jonathan, but I’m not quite out of the habit of my mind going that way. The point is, he’s very handsome, and a doctor in charge of a mental hospital at only 29! Mr. Holmwood introduced me, and he’s been visiting often since then. He has an interesting personality, it seems like, resolute yet calm.

Mina: That kind of steadiness must help the people he works with.

Lucy: I don’t doubt it – nothing seems to faze him. And he tends to look you right in this eyes, as if trying to read your thoughts. He tries it on me pretty often, but I like to think I’m pretty hard to read. I’ve seen it in the mirror, and I think I have a pretty good poker face if I do say so myself. :)

Mina: Well, for most people. ;)

Lucy: Obviously there are a very few exceptions. :D Still, he said he found me an interesting subject of psychological study, and I rather agree.

Mina: That’s… a thing to say.

Lucy: It was so funny! Oh, and as for the new fashions around… I haven’t really been paying attention, as usual.

Mina: lol, as expected.

[pause]

Lucy: Mina, we’ve been friends for a long time, right?

Mina: Yes, of course?

Lucy: So I can tell you anything, and you’ll keep it to yourself?

Mina: Oh, always. I would never share something you told me in confidence.

Lucy: Yes…

Lucy: You probably already figured this out, but

Lucy: I love him! I can’t stop blushing every time I think about it. I’m completely in love with him, and I think he loves me too but he hasn’t said anything! But oh, I really love him, I love him!

Mina: Oh, Lucy… I’m so happy for you!

Lucy: I’m so embarrassed I almost want to delete the message, but… I want to tell you everything! I wish we could talk out loud about it…

Mina: Me, too. Soon! But it’s getting pretty late for both of us.

Lucy: Oh, I know… Sleep well. Send good energy my way.

Mina: Always. You sleep well, too.

(A/N Part 2: I am not playing Lucy as dismissive of Jonathan as she is in the Re: Dracula podcast. Admittedly, it didn’t even occur to me to play her that way and the previous chapter was already written. I’m fine with it being a different interpretation, though. Not everyone gets the same things out of the text, so I’ll stand by my characterization.

Many, my head was so fuzzy earlier today. Thanks for your patience on this chapter.)

[levinbolts]

6, 9, 17, and 32 for isao <3 (ask game)

6. What’s their favorite [insert anything] that they’ve never recommended to anyone before?

isao is actually very private about most of his interests outside of cooking and baking. he likes to read, loves movies (especially classic horror), and plays violin, but not even jasper is aware of his favorites of all of them (and i'm not even sure he would willingly tell him, even if he asked). and it's literally because he's embarrassed by his favorites because he feels they expose too much about him.

i haven't pinned down his favorite book, but his favorite movie actually bram stoker's dracula (xerxes may have had a little advantage winning him over for this reason, but he won't admit that, even under duress).

9. Do they give tough love or gentle love most often? Which do they prefer to receive?

isao is a hard person to gain affection from, but once you earn it, he is a very gentle love kind of person. this is probably because of how important jasper is to him, and jasper is a person that absolutely needs gentle love, and jasper is the only one that's received actual, genuine affection from him so far.

as for himself, isao prefers tough love, as someone that is highly skeptical of people being a little too gentle with him (yeah, hypocrite, i know).

17. What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

his scars. they're the only remaining proof of the things he's done in his past, and they haunt him in a way a ghost never could. he used to wear make up to try to cover up the ones on his face, until he realized that trying to hide it suggested shame in what he's doneᅳand he has none. the people that gave him those scars deserve what they got, but karma's gotta come back and bite him the ass at some point, right?

honestly? his bright ass eyes are very noticeable, so probably that. jump scare.

32. If they committed one petty crime / misdemeanor, what would it be? Why?

stares at his steadily growing body count. yeah...petty crime...

okay in all seriousness, he's definitely shoplifted in his early childhood. for no other reason than jasper told him he saw something he wanted. he'd do anything to see jasper smile, really.

[dreamerstreamer]

Love Bite

Pairing: vampire!Dream / Clay x human!gn!reader

Summary: [Vampire!AU] Despite how deadly it may appear at first glance, you love your vampire boyfriend with all your heart, so when Clay goes a bit too long without a drink, you’re more than willing to help him.

Warnings: tw// mentions of blood & general vampire shenanigans

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: requested by a lovely anon who wanted to see vampire dream! this was lots of fun to explore, and i hope you all enjoy! <3

You scroll mindlessly along your mouse, your laptop screen illuminating your dim room with a pale glow as image after image pops up on your screen. Your assignment lies long forgotten on the side of your desk, the tab still open just a single click away.

“Whatever,” you mumble quietly to yourself as you click on another link. Your gaze briefly flickers to the calendar on your wall before you shake your head. “I still have another week to work on it—it’s fine.”

Letting out a sigh, you slump over onto your desk, pressing your cheek against the cool wood as you sweep your gaze over to your balcony window. Outside, the sky is dark, the vast expanse washed with a deep, navy hue as the stars begin to peek out from the shadows and gaze down at the bustling city below. It’s a little past midnight now, and despite how late it is, the streets are just as busy as ever. You only catch a small glimpse of the crescent moon hanging among them before your gaze drops to your balcony.

Yet again, it’s empty, completely devoid of life.

The sight makes you frown, and you tear your gaze away from the sight and back to your laptop, continuing your scrolling with a sulk.

It had been a little over four days since you had last seen your boyfriend. Not that you’re counting or anything, of course. It’s just that you’ve gotten lonely without him, and you’re starting to miss him more than you’d like to admit.

Having a vampire boyfriend and being a human isn’t always the easiest, but you’re more than willing to put up with it for him. You can still remember the day he had broken the news to you, having been fully prepared to sacrifice his life right then and there for you if you chose to call for a hunter. But you hadn’t—you chose to stay, to love him.

And love him you do.

There may be times where he has to disappear for a little while that leave you cold and wanting, but the time you do spend together more than makes up for it. He’s overwhelmingly kind, honestly stubborn, and always loves to put a smile on your face, no matter how bad of a day you may have had. You can’t possibly count how many times you’ve thrown yourself into his arms with the widest grin on your face, all just to feel him laugh against you with a soft kiss behind your ear. There’s no one else in the world for you, living or undead, and you are willing to wait for him. It’s embarrassing to think about, but you really would walk to the ends of the earth just for him.

Heat creeps up your neck at the thought, and you force it down with a huff, ducking your head back down again and staring at your assignment. You distantly think of your phone sitting next to your bed and the string of messages you had sent him a few hours prior, all of which remain unopened. Kicking your legs, you whine, burying your face into your arms upon your desk.

Tonight is just not your night, it seems.

Just then, you hear it—the unmistakable sound of nails tapping on glass.

Lifting your head, you blink, slowly turning to look over at your window. Squinting for a moment, you can barely make out the shape of a familiar silhouette standing on your balcony and leaning casually against the railing. His golden hair shines beneath the moonlight, and your heart leaps into your throat.

He’s here.

In an instant, you’re scrambling out of your desk chair and across the room. Fumbling with the balcony lock, you slide open the door with a gasp, the cool night breeze brushing against your cheeks with a soft caress. In front of you, the figure shoots you a crooked grin, his eyes flashing with delight.

“Good evening, sweetheart.”

Your heart melts at the sound of his ever-soothing, familiar voice, and you return his smile with one of your own. “Good evening to you too, Clay.” Scanning him up and down once, you gesture for him to come inside as you add jokingly, “You do know you don’t always have to come in through the window, right? I do have a front door.”

His grin only widens at your words, a soft chuckle tumbling from his lips as he ducks his head to step into your room. “I have a reputation to uphold as a vampire, you know?” he hums. The glint in his eye dances with mischief. “Twilight was the one who said that windows are the way to go.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, your lips twitching with amusement. “Are you really sure you want to use Twilight as your vampire role model of all things? Why not use...” You pause for a moment, then lift a finger. “Dracula?”

A grimace skitters across his face as he pulls the balcony door shut behind him. “Dracula may have been scary, but he was also an old man and, like, super creepy. At least modern vampire fiction makes us sound less gross.” His eyes gleam devilishly. “And also hot.”

You gulp, stepping back until your hand is brushing over the soft covers of your bed. “Well,” you ask softly, “do you think they got it right? The way they portray you guys?”

His lips split into a sly grin, his teeth flashing in the starlight. “I dunno, darling,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low whisper as he dips his head closer to yours. “You tell me.”

Your breath catches for all but a second before you’re gently pushing him away from you with a giggle. “Nice try,” you say, leaping onto your bed with a teasing grin, “but I’m not feeding your ego any more. You do that enough on your own.”

He feigns a wounded look, climbing into the space next to you with a hurt pout. “Aw, bummer. At least give me a kiss, then.”

For a second, you pretend to think about it, mulling the decision over in your head just to watch something needy spring to life in his eyes. Then, you smile, leaning in close to his face with your mouth hovering over his. “Just one.”

You only manage to see a sliver of his lovestruck smile before he presses his lips to yours, your eyelids falling shut. You can just barely feel his sharp fangs brush against the skin of your lip, and the thought makes you croon into his mouth. A certain fondness blossoms behind your ribcage, and your lungs almost feel as though they’re too tight to breathe. He’s cold against you, and when he lifts his hand to cup your cheek, you shiver at the feeling of his icy skin against yours. Everything he does sends a chill rushing down your spine, but when you part just a moment later, you already feel yourself missing his touch.

Brushing his nose over yours, you feel him inhale sharply against you, and the breath he lets out is positively trembling. “God,” he whispers into the side of your face, his voice rasping ever so slightly, “you smell so good.”

Your heart squeezes in your chest at his words, and you feel warmth blossom across your collarbones. “I’m flattered,” you say gently, reaching a hand up to press against his shoulder. Instantly, he melts into your touch as you subtly shuffle back across your bed away from him. “But you’re the one who told me I’m not allowed to let you drink from me.”

His lips part for a moment, and you catch a gleam of the moonlight flashing across his fangs. Swallowing, he runs a hand through his hair and sighs with longing. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” His eyes dart up to meet yours, his gaze swimming with a deep, drowning sense of sorrow. “You know that I’d never, ever want to hurt you, right?”

A smile tugs on your lips, sincere and true. “Of course I do,” you murmur, “and I promise you that you won’t, even if you did drink from me.”

You pause for a moment, then slowly reach a hand up to your shoulder. You don’t miss the way his eyes widen at the sight, and you almost swear you catch an inkling of crimson swirling within his viridian gaze as you lean your neck to the side. “It’s okay if you want to, alright?” you whisper, swallowing.

His eyes are glued to your neck, and you can almost see the storm that rages just beneath his skin. Your chest aches at the thought, knowing just how conflicted he must feel right now. When he doesn’t move, you drop your hand back down to the bed, your gaze focused intently on his.

“I trust you,” you say, pouring every ounce of honesty you can into your words. “Can you trust yourself?”

For a moment, he simply stares at you, his lips parted as his emerald eyes rake you up and down. They’re wide with hunger, an expression you had seen many times before over the months, but not one you had become fully acquainted with. You fidget a little under his intense gaze, and you’re just about to open your mouth again when suddenly, his hands are reaching for yours on the bed.

You gasp as he intertwines his cool fingers between your warm ones, your heart leaping for joy. You let your eyelids flutter shut as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, drinking in your sweet scent as your warm breath tickles his cold skin. You love the quiet moments like this, the enamoured silences that envelop the two of you in your own little bubble as the world seems to slow down. Sucking in a breath, he shudders at your touch, his hand squeezing yours.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly for you and you alone to hear. “You’re too good to me.”

You smile at his words, your heart fluttering in your chest, but something uneasy sinks into the pit of your stomach at the bittersweet tone of his voice.

He didn’t answer your question, a voice whispers from the back of your head. Why didn’t he answer?

A moment later, you push the feeling away, nudging it back into the dark crevices of your mind. Instead, you choose to focus on the feeling of his skin pressing against yours, soothing and soft as you relish in the moment. The moon’s crescent frown seems to deepen from her perch in the sky, but she remains ever silent, only watching with her patient, pallid gaze.

You’re probably just imagining things.

After that night, time passes by you at an achingly slow pace. Night after night passes without a single sign of Clay, and before you even know it, a week and a half has flown past you without so much as a call. You text him as often as you can, and more often than not, you do actually get a response. Seeing the notification of his name pop up on your phone screen makes you smile until your cheeks hurt, and you’re always eager to hear back from him, but you can’t help but miss him as the hours drag on.

An empty, hollow feeling sinks into your chest as you curl up in your bed, the blankets strewn around you haphazardly as you blink over at the closed curtains draped over your balcony window. You haven’t bothered to look outside for a few nights, now—you already know that he won’t be there, as much as you want him to be. Even now, you can imagine his grinning face and teasing pokes as clear as day. The loneliness gnaws away at you as you turn onto your side, facing away from the window.

You hope he’s safe no matter what he’s up to, right now. You know better than anyone that sometimes, he can be a little too reckless for his own good.

Letting your eyes close, you sink into your pillow, a galaxy of stars whirling around your head as you slowly feel yourself drift off into a murky dream. Flashes of bright grins and the sound of wheezing laughter trickles through your thoughts, and you sigh at the endearing memories that wrap around your heart. You can almost swear you feel a pair of hands wrap around your own.

All of a sudden, something prods at the back of your ear, restless and sharp. Wincing, you blink a sleepy eye open, your bleary mind sorting through the sounds in your head before landing on one.

Glass—that’s the sound of glass.

Someone is tapping at your window.

Your eyes shoot wide open, and in a whirlwind, you’re ripping the covers off your body and pushing open your bedroom curtains. On the balcony stands a hooded figure, his golden tresses just barely peeking out from beneath the low-hanging cloth. You swallow and grab onto the door lock, slamming it open just a moment later. You shiver at the night breeze nipping at your skin, but in that moment, you couldn’t care less about the cold, your focus entirely devoted to one thing and one thing alone.

“Clay!” you cry, your eyes desperately scanning him up and down. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and instead, his hand reaches to the side to desperately grip onto the balcony railing, his knuckles turning white. Your eyebrows furrow with concern, and slowly, you take a step toward him. You haven’t even crossed the doorway separating the inside of your room to your balcony when he suddenly barks, “Stop!”

You freeze in place, your hand halfway reaching for his when he practically crumples against the railing, curling in on himself with a choked plea. “Wait,” he gasps, clutching at his chest with a ragged breath, “please. I’m—”

“Clay?” you breathe again, this time much quieter. You shuffle closer to the window glass, your toe just barely brushing against the doorframe. “Are you okay?”

All of a sudden, a snarl rips out of his throat, guttural and beastly. You flinch at the sound for a split second, the worry in your chest only making your heart shake even more. His grip on your balcony railing grows even tighter, and you don’t doubt that it’s going to leave a mark on the metal.

“Don’t come too close,” he pants, his thighs shaking beneath him. “I—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

You purse your lips at him, frustration and confusion digging at the sides of your stomach. “Then why did you come here?”

All is quiet, and he doesn’t respond. The only sound you can properly hear is his uneven breathing as he claws at the front of his hoodie, the fabric bunching beneath his touch. You flick your gaze over him again, and a cold realization suddenly washes over you.

“Clay,” you whisper, the tiniest hint of fear seeping into your voice, “when was the last time you had a proper drink?”

You are once again met with silence, but the way he suddenly stiffens does not go unnoticed by your watchful gaze. Something curls nervously inside your gut, and your lips curl into a frown as you dig your heel into the ground.

“Clay,” you say again, a little louder this time—a little more firmly. “How long has it been?”

There is a beat of silence. Then, he whispers so softly that it’s almost swept away by the wind, “...too long.”

A pang of sorrow shoots through you, a stone dropping into the pit of your stomach. You were right. He’s thirsty. A sigh escapes your throat as you open up your arms, beckoning him toward you. “Come here,” you murmur with all the softness you can muster. “Look at me.”

He shakes his head, and it’s then that you realize you haven’t seen his face this whole time. “Take off the hood,” you say gently. His shoulders tense at your request, and you quickly add a tender, “Please.”

His throat bobs as he gulps, and ever so slowly, his hands reach up to tug at his hood until suddenly, the moonlight is casting a glowing streak of silver across his face. Your eyes go wide.

His kind, lovely eyes, which are typically viridian green and swimming with adoration for you, are now painted a deep, scarlet red, his pupils dilated beyond belief as they lock onto yours.

In all the time you’ve known he was a vampire, you’ve never seen him like this before.

But strangely enough, you’re not afraid.

Instead, you gently reach for his hand, careful to only just lightly wrap your fingers around his. His gaze drops back to the ground again, and while you know he doesn’t have a pulse, if he did, you imagine that it would be going haywire right about now. “Oh, honey,” you whisper. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

Just as you begin to lead him inside to your room does he raise his chin once more, his jaw clenched tight as he takes in your soft, enamoured expression. As he steps inside, you reach behind him to slide the door shut before tugging him back toward your bed. Settling down on the mattress with a loose breath, you let go of his hand. His arms are still shaking at his side when he sits, and it’s then that you open your mouth again.

“Clay,” you say, your voice as clear as a bell, “you can drink from me.”

His crimson eyes widen, and the look he shoots you is one of pure, unadulterated panic. “I-I can’t,” he stammers.

“Yes,” you shoot back, reaching up for the collar of your shirt, “you can.” His eyes trace down the slope of your jaw before landing on the smooth skin of your neck, exposed and waiting for him. His Adam’s apple bobs, his hands squeezing into fists beside him. “It’ll be alright.”

“H-How do you know that?” he blurts, his nails digging into his palm. “What if—what if I lose control and hurt you?” His face blanches at the sight, and he slumps over onto his lap, hanging his head in his hands. “I can’t let that happen.”

You sigh, and he clams up at the softness of the sound. “And it won’t.”

A moment passes in aching, tense silence. You resist the urge to hug him, knowing that initiating any more contact with him would only make him panic even more. “Last time I was here,” he suddenly whispers, shattering the silence with his head ducked down, “you asked me if I trust myself.”

You blink at him as he slowly raises his head, turning his gaze to look at you head-on. “I don’t, [Y/N],” he whispers. “Not one bit.”

Your eyes flash in the darkness of your room, and before you can stop yourself, your mouth opens. “But I do.”

He goes stock still before you, and suddenly, the words are flowing from your lips in a rush, unstoppable and dripping with honesty. “I know you, Clay, and I know you won’t hurt me, no matter how scared you are that you might. I believe in you, and I believe in us.” You press your hand to your chest, your fingers curling over your beating heart. “I love how much you want to make sure I’m safe, but right now, I want to make sure that you’re safe, too.”

If you were looking a little closer, you would have seen the glossy sheen in Clay’s eyes as you tip your head to the side once more, your shirt collar tugged down your shoulder. You bite on the inside of your cheek, your fingers squeezing the sheets. His crimson eyes almost look soft in the glittering starlight of the night, and you feel your chest flood with heat.

“Please,” you croon, your eyes never leaving his. “Go on.”

He eyes you for a moment longer. Then, he’s crawling across the bed toward you, his shaking hand reaching for your shoulder. Gently, he turns you toward him, his other hand cupping your cheek. Slowly, you feel his nose brush against your jaw, something cold pressing against your skin.

“Thank you, darling,” he whispers.

Then, he sinks his fangs in.

A sting shoots up your neck at the feeling, just barely there and slightly sharp, but it’s most certainly nothing you can’t handle. Heat pools around your collar bones as he drinks and drinks, and you feel your eyelids flutter shut. His lips, which are usually cool and soft when they meet yours, feel oddly warm for once, and you sigh at the sensation of your blood pumping from your skin.

You aren’t quite sure how much time passes with him cradling you against him and his mouth lapping at the side of your neck, but soon enough, you can feel a slight dizziness flit around your skull. A soft whimper escapes your lips and instantly, he breaks away from you, his eyes wide with worry as you lean against him for support. You press your forehead against his shoulder for a brief second before sitting upright once more, blinking away the vignette tinting the edges of your vision. In front of you, Clay’s lips are stained with a faint shade of red, but his eyes have returned to the brilliant shade of green you know and love. He grips onto your shoulders a tad tighter than before, his hands reassuringly rubbing against up and down against your arms.

“Oh, [Y/N],” he breathes, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of harm. “I-I’m sorry if I was too rough or anything. I tried to be as gentle as I could, but god, you taste so sweet and I—”

You don’t let him finish his sentence. Before he can even blink, you’re pressing your mouth to his, your tongue swiping at the seam of his lips. The uncanny warmth of his lips against yours makes your head spin more than it was before, and you feel yourself smile against him when you pull back. You can taste the slight metallic tang of your own blood on your mouth as you flash him a grin, his eyes wide with adoration as he drinks in the sight of you sitting before him.

“I’m okay, Clay,” you say with an earnest look. Tilting your head at him, your tongue darts out to swipe at the corners of your mouth. “Are you?”

His eyes never leave yours as he reaches forward to slip your hand into his, his fingers slotting between your own. “Yes,” he murmurs. “Yes, yes, yes.”

His pale skin almost seems to glow in the dim light filtering through your balcony window, and he strokes his thumb over the back of your knuckles. Something inside you suddenly unravels as he tugs you into his chest, holding you close to him as his arms wrap around your backside. You feel him rest his chin atop your shoulder, and you melt into his cool touch. Just as you let yourself let out a loving, hazy sigh against his chest, you feel him whisper into the shell of your ear.

“Would you maybe let me... have another sip?”

[fangirlings-things]

First Costumer

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x female reader

Summary: you just got hired to do the job you always wanted and your first costumer, is no other but a Peaky Blinder

Word count: 2.1K

This is based on the moodboard below, made by my friend. You can find the original post here

A/N: I wrote this for @flowers-in-your-hayr 650 followers celebration. congratulations, love!! you're amazing, thank you for understanding my brazilian jokes lol and I hope you like this 💖

TAG LIST: @sophieshelby ; @charmingvalkyrie ; @inglourious-imagines ; @fairyofvoid ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee ; @captainshazamerica ; @lotsoffandomrecs ; @flowers-in-your-hayr ; @too-spoopy-to-be-frukd

You heard the doorbell ring and the sound filled the bookshop. Finally, a costumer. Your very first costumer. How exciting! 

You got down of the ladder you had previously climbed to fix some of the higher shelves and passed your hands through your brown simple dress, making sure it was proper and in order. Mr. Cuthbert had taken a long time to finally accept you as an employee in his establishment and now, you had to make him proud. 

You had always loved books. Since you were just a little girl, you mother had given you novels to read and you grew up living in many different ones from the reality you actually found yourself in. Books were your passion, your refugee, your ideal spot. To be able to work around them and make people happy by buying books, well, it sounded like perfection! 

The costumer took his time to walk through the shop, eyeing the shelves like they were unusual strangers in the street and then, he got to you at the back of the bookshop. Your first costumer was a man. 

He was tall. Not too tall, but just enoguh to make him able to look at some of the upward shelves without having to raise his head too much. His skin was white, giving a nice contrast with the black coat he wore. He had a moustache and you could only see a few strings of his brown hair, due to the cap he wore.

Then, you realized. After taking notice of the cap, the fine clothing made sense. No ordinary man in Birmingham had such fine clothes to wear, especially not in the middle of the week, during the lunch break time of the factories. Oh no, that man absolutely did not work in a factory. That man was a Peaky Blinder. His only bosses were the Shelbys and the Shelbys only. 

"May I help you, sir?" you asked him with a polite smile, pushing to the back of your mind the realization you had just come to. It didn't matter who he was outside Mr. Cuthbert's bookshop. He was a costumer. Who clearly, for the way his eyes were going from one shelf to the other, intended to buy a book. 

He focused his eyes on you and you saw that his stare wasn't harsh or the one of a demon, as many people said the Peaky Blinders were. His eyes were kind, even though there was an agitation in them that you couldn't quite comprehend. Maybe not even he could. "Yes" he said simply and as you kept staring at him, waiting for further information, the man looked even a bit disconcerted, like he wasn't used to having such attention upon him. "It is my sister's birthday this week and Ada, well, she really likes books, has a great shelf of them at her house. So I thought it would be a good idea to you know, give her a new book as a gift"  

You couldn't help but smile. That man, whomever he was, seemed so genuine in everything. You could see the care in his expression when he spoke of his sister. It was a nice thing to see. The stories you had heard about the Peaky Blinders seemed to be all wrong. He was a normal person. Not some crazy, openly violent man. 

"Do you have any specific book in mind?" you asked him, hands joined in front of your body and excitement filling your body because that was apparently going to be a successful sell. The man just squeezed his lips on a thin line, eyes going to the floor  as if he was embarrassed. It got to you. "Don't worry, I am sure we can work something out. What kind of books does she like?" 

He watched as you moved around the place graciously. Clearly you knew every corner of that place, every shelf, every single book and where it was. You looked at a particular spot, frowned then moved on like there wasn't anything interesting for whatever you wanted him to take to Ada. "Well, she's a communist, so she does like politics" 

"Very well" you walked towards the politics shelf, searched the titles, but nothing particularly got your attention or seemed fitting. You turned back to the man. "Does she like classics that have to do with politics?" 

"I think so, what do you have?" he asked, seeming kinda excited for what you would come up with. He accompanied you as you went to shelf on the other side of the corridor and pulled out a book. "Les Miserables, by Victor Hugo. It's centered around the French Revolution" 

The man looked down at the floor again as a quite nervous laugh escaped his mouth. "I don't think that is a good idea. France does not give my family the best memories, you see" 

"You fought the war?" you asked, smile fading a bit because of the seriousness in his tone. Maybe that's where his agitation was from. Maybe, he never did get back from France at all. He only nodded in agreement, still not looking at you. "Thank you, for your service" 

He gave out a little smile, but you knew by the way the corner of his lips didn't rise too much that he was anxious to change the subject. Honestly, see the obvious hurt in him made you want to change it either. "Alright, no France. What about Bram Stoker's Dracula?" 

"Dracula?" he frowned, eyes meeting yours in utter confusion at such a strange name. 

The fact that he didn't knew about it made you smile as you began to describe que novel's story to him with a mysterious tone in your voice to cause suspense. "It's about an old man, Count Dracula, who lives in a castle and feeds on the blood of young women to survive. Sometimes he kills them so they can join him in the after life and also drink blood from innocent people" 

The man laughed due to your clearly forced misteirous tone and the way you raised your eyebrows at him while speaking, seeming to forget the previous sadness that had overwhelmed him with the memories of the war. You were glad for it. "That sounds bloody awful, love" 

You could not help but also laugh, trying to ignore the heat that took a hold of your face when he apparently without thinking, called you love. "It is, actually" then you shrugged, passing your hand through the said novel's cover at the shelf. "But is a fine horror book" you crossed your arms over your chest and squeezed your eyes in his direction. "Be honest with me now, will your sister like this one?" 

He squeezed his lips again, this time his features assumed a expression that clearly said 'sorry'. "I don't think so. Ada is a feminist. I think she would not like a story where a monster man kills women and faces no consequences" 

"That is a very good point" you said with a sight and then turned around, biting your lower lip as you thought and thought about more options. The challenge on your very first sell was being quite exciting and you could say, interesting. Much of it of course, was because of that man. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and you turned back to the Peaky Blinder with a smile. "What about On the Origin of Species? It's a book about pure knowledge, scientific one, about evolution. No France, no monster that slaughters women" 

The man gave it a minute of thought and then returned your smile. "Knowledge and evolution. It does sounds like Ada" you both felt silent for a moment and then, he cleaned his throat and nodded towards the book you had just gotten into your hands. "I'll take it" 

"Very well" you motioned for him to follow you and then made your way towards the back of the shop again, placing it in the cashier. "You want it wrapped up as a gift?" he quickly agreed and you raised two options of gift wrap in the air. A green and a blue one. He chose the green one. "You can also add a small card if you want" 

"That is nice, thank you" he said and again, as you looked at him, the kindness in his eyes seemed to shine out from everything else. 

You grabbed a gift card from the inside of a box where they were kept and placed a black pen upon it. "You can write it or if you want, I can write it for you" 

"You should write it, I bet your handwriting is better than mine" he said and you chuckled, nodding as you agreed to his request. 

"What do you want it to say?" you waited as he clearly thought about the question, looking unsure. With one of his hands, he took off his cap and then passed the other one through his hair. When he claned his throat, you were ready to start writing. 

"Dear Ada, happy birthday" he looked at you as if that was it but then, seeing the expression on your face that clearly indicated you wished him to talk more, he thought for a second and then continued. " Since you like books so much, I hope you will like this one, that a very nice girl helped me pick" as you wrote with a smile on your face, you did your best not to raise your eyes to meet his. "I know I am not always a very good brother, but I love you. Happy birthday, Arthur" 

"That was beautiful" you told him, letting go of the pen and starting to wrap up the gift carefully, slowly, in no rush to let the Peaky Blinder go away. Arthur. His name was Arthur. It was a beautiful name. Suited him just fine. 

"Alright, then" his eyes went to the floor again, seeming now embarrassed because of your words. 

You finished to wrap the gift in silence, then when it was done, you sighted and looked at the man. "If you want us to deliver the gift at your sister's house, in case you're busy, we have a delivery boy for such" 

"That sounds good, I appreciate that" he replied. 

You nodded in agreement and got a piece of paper, to then grab the pen again. "Can you tell me her adress, please?" he did so, and you wrote it down so the boy Mr. Cuthbert had hired a little while before you could do his part of the job later. "He is supposed to look for Ada...?" you left the question in the air, waiting for him to answer, eyes still on the paper. 

"Ada Shelby" 

Your eyes snapped up on the very same instant. 

Shelby. 

His sister was Ada Shelby. 

He was Arthur Shelby. 

"Something wrong, love?" he asked, and he didn't seem harsh like you expected him to, for the way you not in the slightly hid just how astonished you were to know his identity. His eyes were still kind, but a part of the previous sadness had come back. 

"I'm sorry, that was rude of me" you wrote down Ada Shelby and then left the paper upon the gift, at the corner of the cashier. 

"I'm used to that kind of reaction by now" he said with a nervous laugh, that carried absolutely no humor at all in it. Even if he was indeed used to the said kind of reaction, he clearly did not like it. You felt guilt consume you. "How much do I owe you?" 

You told him the price, still lost in your thoughts and cursing yourself for being so stupid and rude. So rude. He gave you the money, you placed it in the due place. "Have a nice day" he told you and then turned around to leave, placing his cap back in his head and then his hands went to the pockets of his clothes. 

You watched him leaving with a intense feeling of exasperation, tried to think fastly enough to say something and then before you could even really process what you were actually going to do, the words left your mouth. "Mr. Shelby?" he turned back around as he heard you calling, a bit of gentleness in his features. "If you ever need to buy another book, I am sure I can help you find something good" 

His lips curled up in a smile, a pure one. A bit of the guilt you felt left your body like he had just taken it completely away, just by smiling again. "I'll remember that, love" 

And then, Arthur Shelby left the bookshop.

[penny-beee]

Moments of Peace

Draco x Reader

Description. Feeling numb Draco makes a new friend in the astronomy tower.

.

There I sat in the astronomy tower, Pride and Prejudice between my hands. Almost silent footsteps came up the stairs, bright white hair reflecting onto the walls. Draco Malfoy, a boy I had seen several times up here. Whenever I’d come up to read he was out by the railing and I’d sit in the shadows so I wouldn’t disturb him. I never knew if he noticed me or not, but he never detested so I kept my spot.

I shifted my gaze back to my book, shifting a bit to get back into a comfy position. As I got into my story again, a dark figure sat next to me. Stopping for the second time, I looked over to see Draco. He looked as if he could melt into the wall, his back against it and his legs sprawled out-head up to view the ceiling. A sight I’d never seen before, usually so cunning and tense.

Deciding to keep reading, I gazed back down and tried my best to take in the words. Failing miserably I stood to leave. A whispered “thank you” filled the room. I turned on my heel and bowed my head slightly, unsure of why he thanked me or how to respond to that. Confused, I sauntered down the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room.

As it being extremely late, I got into my bed and sunk into my slumber.

For the third time this week, Draco sat besides me as I read. This time I brought a second book-unknowing if he’d be interested in my muggle books. ‘The Great Gatsby’ laud on the floor between us, I almost felt like I was training a dog to trust humans again. I caught him glancing at the book a few times before he finally reached for it. I softly grinned at the small step.

We sat there reading for what felt like hours. His light blonde hair would fall in front of his eyes and he’d run his fingers through it to fix the blinder. Satisfied, I stood to leave his side again. A soft tug caught my attention. I peered down at the innocent face, he stared right into my soul with his silvery eyes. I could see the pain and resentment that just seemed normal.

“Your book.” He went to hand me, losing his page.

“Don’t worry, it’s yours.” I smiled kindly and turned to leave.

Draco came to read with me about four days of each week, felt like a book club. He had finished two books and was now onto Dracula. He giggled every now and again at the story. When he spoke, he would in hushed tones and almost as if he was scared to say the wrong thing and open up. I could see his hurt, I tried my best to just keep conversation small so he knew I wouldn’t push anything out of him.

When he learned my name, I had caught a giggle from him. He thought my name was funny, or at least the nickname he had made in his head was. Although as soon as he started to seem cheerful-it went away. He would shut it down.

“Y/N L/N” I smiled, honestly surprised it had been a month and he hadn’t learned my name.

He chuckled for a moment-but realized he almost sounded insulting towards it “-I didn’t mean to laugh, I was just reminded of something.” He awkwardly responded.

One day I sat in the dining hall instead-needing some company, loud stomps came from the head of the hall, Harry charged at Draco. Harry held Draco by his white collar and exclaimed something I couldn’t make out. Draco’s eyes furrowed and his lips smooshed to his nose, looking aggravated; he pushed Harry off and sped to leave. Harry following after.

A sense of responsibility waved over me, I closed my notes and walked away from the dining hall. I followed far behind the boys, not wanting to cause too much trouble. As I was invisible to everyone already, I saw no issue in me not being seen. I stood silently at the entrance. The sound of pipes breaking and shattering alarmed me. Running for Snape I found him not too far.

“They’re going to kill each other.” I stated,

He followed me back to the lavatory and walked in for me; muffled words filled my ears. Harry stomped off, angry at whatever happened. His face slightly bloodied. I waited for Snape to bring Draco out but McGonagall came to bring him to the infirmary. As they brought him out, he laid silently, his shirt bloodied enormously. Hair all strew, he was a mess to say the least. My hand connected with my mouth, shock waved over my body. He looked so peaceful, something probably impossible for that boy.

I waited a few hours before I went to see him, not wanting to press his buttons or run into anyone threatening. I brought a single white rose and his favorite book ‘The Great Gatsby’. My hair was tucked behind my ears, my eyes slightly red-the idea of my friend hurt and suffering stung. The three months of learning about him slowly felt almost romantic.

Shaking the thought away, I made my way to his bedside, his hair was flat against his forehead, lips cracking and eyes strained. I gave him a genuine smile, hoping to greet him with empathy.

“I brought you some gifts.” I was just above a whisper, not wanting to overwhelm him.

“Why did you come?” He asked firmly, he looked embarrassed, ashamed of being in the bed.

“To bring you gifts and make sure you are alive.”

“Why does it matter to you, mudblood.” His piercing eyes stared into mine and his jaw clenched, looking almost deadly. His words stung, never had he ever been cruel to me.

“I see that I mistook this as a friendship. I can see that authenticity of blood means everything to you because your character is so poor.” I croaked.

I set the rose next to his bed; the book just underneath it. My head held down low, I quickly made my way to my room. I locked my door, making my way to the window I sat in front of when I was upset. I gripped my robe and pulled it close to my body. Tears of sadness and anger fell into the fabric. Crawling to my bedside I pulled my blanket on top of me, curling into almost a ball on the hardwood floor. I gazed at my wrist, ‘mudblood’ carved into from a previous attacker- stung my heart. Making me gasp for air, the feeling of not being good enough rang in my ears for the thousandth time. My soft sniffles brought me into a slumber on the floor.

I had gotten used to not seeing him in the tower anymore, he didn’t show up to read with me; stopped waving ‘hello’ in the halls, it was like he had disappeared completely-the one person that saw me was now gone. I had hopes of making new friends but my shy antics never made it possible, I might be a Ravenclaw but I was almost a Hufflepuff. Again, I was on my own-nothing new to me though. My mother killed when I was 10 and then my father vanishing at 12; I was pretty much alone since. My fathers mother had carved the words that haunt me into my arm when I first stayed with her. My father being a pure blood and my grandmother despising mudbloods.

It was Sunday night, the moon illuminating the tower-sourcing me for light. I drug my feet to the top, Alice in Wonderland by my side. My hood sat on my wild brown locks, tie strewn about, my shirts untucked. I looked like a pure mess. I had my headphones in-Wait by M86 playing loudly. The words belted in my head, swaying my head slightly; my feet switched positions, twirling. Losing my balance-I fell into someone’s chest.

Shuddering almost, I turned-looking up at the pale face. Draco. I took one bud out, taking me from my peace.

“I need to talk to you.” He sounded desperate.

“Do you? You sure you want to talk to a lowlife mudblood?” I quizzed, squinting my nose.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was embarrassed, I wasn’t expecting you-well kind of but not totally.”he trailed off. “It’s hard for me to apologize, really hard. But I’m sorry. I was wrong to judge you for you being a half blood.” He gulped.

“I brought Alice in wonderland, I don’t have a-.” He interrupted my speech raising his arm to have the same in his own hands.

Sighing, I nodded sitting over in our spot. It didn’t feel right to hold a grudge on him. Only time would tell if he was really sorry, only to me would tell if he really learned to judge someone on character.

We sat peacefully against the wall, like we had so many times before. This time, he sat closer, his hand brushing mine as he read, distracting me slightly.

I felt his face move away from his book, his stare baring into my soul. Glancing up, I noticed his stare was only directed at my lips. I filled unsure of what to do, where to look, where to advert my eyes. His hand met my soft cheek and guided me to his own face, he had kissed me. Draco; the boy everyone feared was baring his soul to me. The boy that grew to be so alone in the world was connecting with me. His lips soft, almost like pillows caressed my own. So gentle for such a reckless man.

As we pulled away, we placed our foreheads onto each other’s.

“Y/N, I have scars, I have impurities, I’m broken; but I want to try and learn what love is. Please, help me.”

[alma37]

A[h]arrowing evening - chapter 2

I kind of promised another chapter if I reached 100 hits on AO3. I am a little behind schedule, but a promise is a promise.

So, here is the chapter 2.

Fandom : Dracula TV 2020

Relationship : Agatha x Dracula

Rating : this one tends to M but not quite

I still have not counted the words.

@hopipollahorror​ @lady-of-the-wolves​ @thebeautyofdisorder​ @festering-queen​ @feralstare​

[let me know if you don’t want to be tagged]

@vampyrsbride​ @khyruma​ no idea if you even read fanfiction

Anyone else who didn’t ask to be tagged but still read my shit,

everyone, I hope you’ll enjoy!

As Dracula was settling comfortably for the night, a knock resounded on his door. Curious, he went to open and was startled to find a swaying Agatha in front of him.

- Agatha! To what do I owe the pleasure? Or is it displeasure tonight?

The young vampire waved her hand and slurred :

- I came to aplo... to aloo... ap.., to say I'm sorry.

The older vampire frowned :

- Are you all right?!

- Nether bedder!" She was leaning dangerously sideways until she was supported by the doorframe.

- Did you take something?" Dracula asked, incredulous.

- Noooo!... " But after a short pause, she admitted : "I just drank a drunk!" And she sniggered. Agatha never sniggered.

- Oh my! Are you drunk?!

- Mabee a little bit. But he tasted sooo good!" Agatha mumbled, ecstatic.

- What did I tell you about drinking drunk people?!

- Pff!" The younger vampire scoffed. "I drrink whoeve' I want, Mr 'now-it-all.

Now she was listing dangerously towards Dracula who held her upright by the shoulders.

- Do you understand how much alcohol is needed to affect us?! How much blood did he have left in his alcohol stream?!" He asked drily.

The former nun, leaning on his chest now, snorted.

- Did you just make a joke?

- Perhaps.

- You shooould not do that.

- Why not?

- Because... it makesss you likeable. And I am not sh-supposed to like you. I am sh-supposed to.. to kill you! See? I still have my little arrow with me, just in case.

Agatha brandished in all directions the wooden weapon she got used to carry since Dracula turned her. Weary, the older vampire got hold of it before his younger kin could do some damage to either of them.

- Yes, I can see that. I'll keep it for now, if you don't mind.

Agatha made a gesture, that could either mean she didn't mind or its exact opposite. When she didn't try to take back her weapon, the Count concluded it was the former and returned to their previous conversation :

- Did you just said you liked me?

- Ov course not! Why would I do that?! You mush... must get deaf in your old age.

- I assure you my hearing is quite good. You just said you liked me." He persisted.

- Nooooooooo. No, no, nononono. No..." Another short silence, before :" Maybe. A little. But I am rrrreally d-drunk at the moment, so you'll have to ashk... aks... hashk me again tomorrow. When I sh-slept it off.

- When you slept it off, you are going to wish me to the devil. So...

- Zat's not... jat's... that... Yeah!... Maybe we should sleep it ohf togejer, zen.

- I beg your pardon?!

- Zat way, no dish... no dims... no w... no sc-scoffing at.

- I won't sleep with you when you are drunk, Agatha.

- Why not?! I am vewy ri... very vi... willing at the moment. When will you 'ave anozer chance, do you think?

- God, give me strength!

- Did you..." Agatha sniggered for the second time in the evening. " Did you just take God's name in vain?!" before she dissolved in laughter, at the utter dismay of her older kin, while actually slouching against him.

- That's exactly why." The only thing keeping her up was his arm around her waist. When she finally calmed down, he tried to lead her towards the bedchamber :

- Come now. I am putting you to bed.

But Agatha resisted his pull. Even drunk, she was still a vampire.

- Only if you're coming with me into it.

Dracula towered above her.

- Agatha, don't push me. You know I want you. But not like that.

Far from being cowed, the younger vampire slid along his chest until she was an air breath from his mouth before flashing him a brilliant smile :

- Draaackeyyyy... me loveyyyy. Don't be so meaneyyyyy.

The older vampire snapped :

- That's it. That's enough! I am putting you to bed now.

Lifting her like she was a bag of feather, he threw her on his shoulder. Sober Agatha would have been scandalised. Drunk Agatha, however, sniggered for the third time and purred :

- Ooooh! Me very own cave man!... Cave vampire!" Then, even upside down, she set about removing his shirt from his trousers. Dracula couldn't believe what was happening : a few weeks ago, she almost killed him and now, it appeared that she was intent on undressing him.

- Agatha, stop that!" He admonished her, to no avail.

The younger vampire, apparently, was determined to see him naked before they could reach the bedroom. She was really trying his self-control.

- Agatha, if you don't stop, I am going to do something I have wanted to for a long time and you will be left with only regret and self-loathing in the morning. Is it really what you want?

At last, this made her stop. Dracula couldn't help but release a relieved sigh.

Once they reached the bedroom, Dracula slid her down to the bed. He put a knee on the floor to remove her shoes. Agatha, surprisingly silent, was watching him. When he straightened up to help her lie down, she unexpectedly put her hand under his shirt flat against his abdomen. Dracula fought to keep what was left of his restraint.

-Show me your scar.

- It's gone. You know we don't scar." The older vampire answered while removing gently her hand from his skin. She was warm from the blood, which wasn't helping with his growing lust. Luckily, she didn't resist. But she looked disappointed :

- I wanted to kiss it better, as you asked me. As an apology.

- You did, don't you remember?

- Hum! Yes. But I wanted to do it more... Can I kiss you better somewhere else, then?

- Agatha..." But before truly realising it, he was leaning forward. His restraint was flying through the window.

The kiss started sweetly, a mere brush of the lips, but drunk Agatha was demanding and Dracula, unable to resist, gave her what she asked. Soon they were tangled with each other, the older vampire not sure anymore how many limbs his younger kin had, as she seemed to touch him everywhere at the same time. He finally stopped her hands from their roaming and threaded their fingers, while exploring her mouth with avidity. In all their 123 years of fighting, she had never let down her guard and never allowed him this close. Until tonight. She was exquisite, as always. Warm and soft and... softer?

Dracula raised his head to note, with a mix of dismay and amusement, that his nemesis had fallen asleep in his bed. Well, at least, she finally was where he wanted her. The vampire shook his head and laughed softly at the irony. As it was, she wouldn't be able to stake him come morning. Small mercies.

*************

A few hours later, Agatha emerged slowly from her slumber. For a few instants, she couldn't remember but when memories flooded back, she put a pillow on her face and groaned. How could she do that?

- Oh! I see you are awake. Hum! And not suffering ill effects from your over-indulgence.

- Sweet Jesus! It really did happen, then?! I still hoped it was a nightmare.

- I am afraid not, Angel.

- I can't believe I did that. This is so embarrassing!

- Well, it could have been worse. I could have given in.

At those words, Agatha removed the pillow from her face - She couldn't smother herself anyway - and looked at her supposedly oldest enemy. He was watching her with a mix of fondness, resignation and longing. Or so it seemed to her guilty mind.

- I am so sorry, Vlad. I... Well, thank you for resisting. At least one of us didn't embarrass themselves last night.

- My pleasure, Angel. And don't thank me, I wasn't able to totally resist, if you remember well. If you hadn't fallen asleep, honestly..." He trailed before falling silent.

Agatha dropped her gaze on the sheets, a new wave of mortification washing over her.

- Yes, well, I provoked you. So, for once, I don't blame you. You actually showed remarkable restraint.

-  Did I hear you well? Did you just pay me a compliment?! You may suffer ill effects after all." Dracula teased her.

- Nevermind." Agatha mumbled, going out of bed. Dracula presented a helping hand, which, after only a slight hesitation, she took. Once upright, though, she had to grip it more tightly as she swayed on her feet.

- Hum. Not totally unscathed, then." The older vampire remarked, without mirth.

- I'm fine." She defended herself."I just feel a little numb.

- Yes, of course. My mistake." He answered, with a knowing smile this time.

- Oh do shut up, Dracula!" The younger vampire growled, as she tried to remove her hand from his. But Dracula didn't let her.

- Maybe you should stay the day. Sleep it off.

- Dracula...

- I promise you : no mischief, no ulterior motive. If I may say so, you don't look so good. You could rest here, I won't bother you.

- I don't think..." She hesitated.

- I can bring you some clean blood to clear your head and you can lie here as long as you want." Dracula added when he sensed her wavering.

Agatha was thinking about accepting his offer as she felt exhausted, but still she pondered.

- Where will you rest? It's daytime.

- Don't worry about me. My sofa is quite comfortable.

The former nun snorted :

- Your sofa is as comfortable as a marble coffin and at least a foot shorter than you!

Dracula shrugged.

- Well, I still have to put a bed in the guest bedroom, so it will have to make do.

Agatha looked at her nemesis' bed : it had been made for him, so it was probably a foot longer than her and at least, large enough to house a small village. She gulped then took a deep breath :

- Your bed is big enough for the both of us. And since, you were the gentleman and offered me its exclusive use, I would be a very sore guest if I'd let you sleep on this terrible furniture you dare call a sofa.

Despite his surprise at her unexpected proposition, Dracula chuckled :

- Well, if you get into the habit of coming to see me while drunk, I may need to invest into a second bed. Or...

Agatha raised a warning finger :

- Don't even think about finishing this sentence, Count.

The older vampire grinned but stopped talking. After an awkward silence, Agatha added :

- You should think about replacing that sofa, too.

- I will." At his tone, she looked at him. He was watching her back with that same expression again.

- Are you sure you don't mind?" Dracula broke the spell. "I must admit I got quite fond of my bed, since I don't need my coffin to sleep in.

- No. I mean : I don't mind." But she insisted, to be sure : "You promise me no mischief.

- You offered me to sleep with you." He countered, teasing her.

Agatha didn't catch the joke, if her scandalised look was any indication :

- I was drunk!

Dracula laughed at her outraged tone.

- I'm joking, Agatha. Relax.

he sat on one side of the bed and patted the place next to him.

- Come on. You look dead on you feet. I promised you no mischief. I'll keep my word.

Agatha sat carefully on the bed then lay down next to her old enemy. They didn't say anything for some time. Dracula rearranged his limbs then put his hands behind his head, settling in.

Agatha was lying next to him rigidly, debating with herself, until finally she sighed :

- Oh Hell!" And throwing caution to the wind, she rolled on her side to nestle against him. It was quite nice, actually.

The older vampire stayed still for a moment, unsure what to do. Then, slowly, he put down one arm to place it around her shoulders and bring her a little closer to him.

- No mischief." She mumbled into his shirt.

- No mischief." He confirmed with a smile in his voice. "Even if you make it hard for me to keep my promise."

- Not without a partner." His younger kin replied softly, already on the verge of sleep.

Dracula resisted laughing at her tart answer, so as not to disturb her. She was relaxing against him and very soon, he could sense she was fast asleep. No partner indeed.

He couldn't hold it any longer and laughed, barely disturbing his exhausted partner. She muttered in her sleep, then settled against him once more after throwing an arm across his chest.

Perhaps, she would heed his advice next time. But Dracula hoped she wouldn't. Drunk Agatha was almost as fun as angry Agatha and far more agreeable.

The older vampire looked down at the woman in his arms. Maybe he was the one high, in this instance : he still couldn't believe his nemesis was actually sleeping, sober and peaceful, in his embrace. If God had decided to be done with him and Agatha was His sword arm, Dracula decided then and there that it was a small price to pay for a few hours with her in his arms. And with that satisfying thought, he slipped in a comfortable slumber.

[jawritter]

Little Details...

Request: Could I maybe request a Chubby!Reader x Dean story? She's super sweet and kind of laid back, just going along with the boys as a research partner, but she's also super artsy and loves to draw Dean while she researches. Maybe some sweet and soft smut, oh! And maybe he plays with her hair? :) Thanks, dear!! 🌻💛

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Chubby!Reader

Warnings: a hint of insecure reader, a hint of self-loathing Dean, Smut, unprotected sex, light language, Angst, I think that’s about it.

Word Count: 2836

A/N: As always all mistakes are mine! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one! Also, the sketch featured in this pic does not belong to me and the complete credit goes to the actual owner! Whoever you are! You did amazing!

Want more? Check out my Masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

The bunker was dark and cold as you sat alone in the library, only the light from the kitchen that you'd left on and the lamp that was sitting on the desk shining as you sat in your usual seat behind a pile of books. A sketch pad stretched out in front of you, and the books have long since been forgotten. Your attention waivered to the drawing you had started yesterday while Dean was sitting across from you in the library, a glass of whiskey in his hand, and his feet kicked up on the table. 

Drawing Dean has become one of your favorite past times. It was some sort of an obsession, you realized that, but it helped you cope with the fact that drawing the detail of his face would be the closest you ever get to actually touching him.

You'd been living with the Winchesters as a researcher for over a year, and from the moment Dean pulled up in Baby to pick you up from your brother Garth's house you'd been in love with him. Garth said the boys needed help researching, and suggested you as the best he'd ever known, so Dean came all the way there to pick you up himself. 

It wasn't something you could control, it just was, you just were. There was nothing that could change it, no matter how much you wanted to.

Dean didn't like girls like you. Dean liked girls that were platinum blondes, with a huge chest and perfectly flat stomach. Those kinds of girls that look like they walked right off the pages of his favorite porn magazine. 

You were none of those things.

Your stomach wasn't flat, you had a little extra weight on your hips, you had nice breast, but you were convinced that was just because you were heavy. You weren't obese, but you weren't a size zero either. 

You weren't a platinum blonde. They wouldn't have taken your picture and put you in any porn magazine. You had nothing that would hold the interest of the God that was Dean Winchester. 

He saw you as a best friend, or maybe a little sister, not someone he would fall in love with. 

You were laid back and shy, you didn't have the guts to even ask a guy out, much less let Dean know how you felt about him. Not that you'd take a chance anyway, and mess up the only kind of relationship you will ever have with the eldest Winchester, so you settled to drawing him. 

You liked drawing anyway. It was an escape from all the crazy, creepy, evil that surrounded the life of a hunter daily. 

"Morning Sweetheart," Dean said, dragging his feet as he entered the library, and you quickly hid your drawing so that he couldn't see it. 

"Morning Dean, you're up early," you tell him as he took his usual seat across from him.

"Yeah, one of those nights I guess, I just couldn't get comfortable." 

You found that hard to believe, he had that whole bed to himself with a memory foam mattress on it. What in the world could stop him from getting comfortable?

"Well, what do you have planned for today?" you ask him, getting up to go and start breakfast for the two of you. Dean stood and followed you into the bunker kitchen. Sitting on the island in the middle of the room as you took out a pack of bacon and started to lay it out in the pan.

"I actually wanted to see if you wanted to just hang out and watch movies or something, you know have a lazy day," Dean said with a shrug. "Sam left today to go to Ohio and help Elieen with a witch hunt, and that just leaves me and you with the whole bunker to ourselves.

You stood stock still for a moment before you could answer. Dean had never wanted to just hang out with you before because you had the whole bunker to yourselves. I mean the two of you would occasionally watch a movie with Sam, and he sometimes would sit and talk to you in the bunker, but Dean was usually a pretty private person. He liked to hang out in the garage, and work on baby, and not really socialize much. Even though he called you his best friend in the kitchen a few months ago, he was always pretty distant, but Dean was distant from everyone, so you didn't worry about it.

"Sounds great Dean," you finally got out as he grabbed another pan, and started mixing up pancake batter next to you. 

"Great! I'm thinking we will start with a classic, Bram Stoker's Dracula maybe? See where it goes from there,'' Dean said, sounding excited. You couldn't help how your chest swelled thinking about Dean actually wanting to hang out with you.

An hour later Dean and yourself had eaten breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen. Dean was getting the movie going for the two of you, and you were sitting on the couch, making yourself comfortable. 

"Okay Sweetheart," Dean said, flopping down on the couch and throwing his arm around you, pulling you very close to his side. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the close proximity, but you just went with it. Dean was never like this, but you weren't going to question it, you were just going to enjoy it because you knew it might not ever happen again.

Many movies later, and several pizzas, Dean and yourself were watching the credits roll on Pet Sematary, and Dean was stretching next to you. He'd kept very close proximity to you all day, even letting you cuddle with him while you two watched TV together. It had honestly been the best day you had ever had, and you weren't excited that it was getting late. 

"Hey Y/N, can I ask you something?" Dean said, looking at you cautiously. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

"Sure, Dean." 

Reaching over the side of the couch Dean pulls out a little black binder. One you recognize immediately. It was the binder that you kept all your drawings of Dean in. Your heart literally stopped mid beat as he turned to look at you, opening it up, and revealing your work. 

You couldn't speak, you couldn't breathe...

"Sweetheart, These are really..." 

Not letting him finish his sentence you snatched the binder out of his hands and literally ran towards your room, slamming the door behind you and locking it as tears made their way down your check. Throwing the binder in your underwear drawer you fall into bed and pray for death because that was the only thing that was going to take away that kind of embarrassment. 

All you could do was cry, you couldn't even think straight. He'd sat there and watched TV with you  ALL DAY! Let you cuddle with him, laughed with you, ordered food for you. You had a great day with Dean, and the whole time he was sitting over there with your binder, waiting to ask you about it. Guess he was just trying to soften the blow before he approached you about it.

You had never been more humiliated in your life. 

You were so upset that you didn't hear Dean pick the lock on your bedroom door, and when you felt the bed dip next to you, you nearly jumped out of it.

"Y/N, please don't run from me." 

You froze where you sat, looking anywhere but Dean, you couldn't stand to see what you thought you said there. Judgment, mocking, just like all those boys in high school that found out you had a crush on them and started calling you fat, and other mean names. Dean not only looked like a jock, but he was probably no different. 

Putting his finger lightly under your chin Dean guided your face to him.

"Look at me, Princess," he said, his voice was softer than you thought it would be, not mocking at all. 

Making yourself look at him, meeting his piercing green eyes as he wiped the tears that had fallen off of your face with the pad of his thumb. 

There wasn't any judgment there, but there was so much emotion that you didn't understand. 

"Y/N, I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have sprung that on you that way. I found your binder laying on the bed when I came in here to grab the spare blanket, and I got curious and opened it. I shouldn't have invaded your privacy, and I wasn't going to make fun of you, or mock you, hell, I'm not even mad. I just want to know why me?"

That made your mind freeze up for a moment. "Why me?" He was really wanting to know why you wanted to draw him? Does he look in the mirror when he gets dressed in the morning?

You blinked at him, dumbfounded by the question.

"What do you mean why you?" you asked him, and he lowered his head for the first time like he was a little embarrassed himself. 

"Because I'm nothing, Sweetheart, I'm not even that great of a person. Why the hell would you want to draw someone like me?" 

You wanted more than anything to slap him at that moment. "Dean, do you look in the mirror when you get dressed in the morning? Your fucking hot!" 

Slapping your hand over your mouth you mentally slapped yourself for your little outburst. Looking at Dean like you would die right there if you could get away with it.

Dean snorted out a laugh that surprised you, raising his eyebrows a little. "So you think I'm hot?" 

"Oh God Dean,'' you said, covering your face with your blankets before he pulled them down and laid down next to you. 

"Sweetheart, don't get embarrassed. You're normally so laid back. Why are you so shy around me?" 

Taking a deep breath you decided it was now or never. He wasn't going to let it go. You wondered if he already knew and was just being manipulative, but you had never known Dean to be manipulative. 

"Because I like you, Dean, I mean I really, really like you! More than just a friend or a brother. I have feelings for you Dean. I don't expect you to feel the same way about someone like me, and I completely understand if I totally creeped you out by drawing you all time, I'll stop if you want me to, I completely understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore. I can call my brother to come and get me, move in with him, and his family.."

Before you could stand up all the way, and keep rambling Dean grabbed you, turned you around, and crashed his lips into yours in a bruising kiss to shut you up. It didn't last near as long as you wanted it to, but it didn't take long to make you melt into him. His taste filling you, his warm lips gliding over yours and your lips worked together with him like it was something that they'd always done.

When he pulled away you were both panting, and he leaned his forehead against yours, brushing your hair away from your face. 

"Sweetheart, stop. I don't want you to go anywhere. I have feelings for you too, I always have, just didn't figure you wanted someone as fucked up as I am."

Snaking his arms around your waist he started backing you up to the bed and laid you down softly on the mattress before crawling up your body and hovering over you as you backed up against the pillows. 

"I don't mind that you draw me. You don't creep me out, and I don't want you to change a damn thing about yourself. The only thing I want to know before I take this any further, because trust me I want to, is do you want this with me for real? Because I've wanted it a long damn time, and once I go there with you, your mine. There's no going back, I've weighed too long for you to lose you, sweet girl."

You couldn't speak because part of you couldn't believe what you were hearing, so you just nodded your head. 

That was all the permission he needed before his lips found yours again, kissing you softly. His tongue gliding over yours. His hands trailing over sides. Lifting up the hem of your shirt so that his hands can graze over the skin there. A moan leaving your lips as the feeling of his hands on your skin. 

Dean sat up and ripped his shirt over his head, and threw it to the floor. You sat up and did the same. Hand's trailing over the newly exposed skin of his chest as he laid you down on the mattress slowly. His lips trailing from your jawline to your pulse point, leaving little love bites and open mouth kisses as he went before slipping his hand behind your back and loosening your bra. Pulling it off of you slowly and throwing it across the room.

"You so beautiful Princess," he whispered as his finger trailed over the mounds of your breast, admiring each inch of you like he was trying to commit it to memory. Lowering his head, taking each nipple in his mouth, giving each of them the same amount of attention as he worshiped your body. 

Sliding his hands into the waistband of your pants he slid your underwear and your sweats down in one pull. Before ridding himself of his own sweats and boxers. Leaving both of you bare in front of each other. 

He was glorious, all muscle power. You were not, and you were completely bare before him. You automatically reached for the blanket. Feeling self-conscious for the first time tonight with him when he grabbed your arms stops you. 

"No, no sweetheart don't hide from me. You're beautiful, and I want to see you." 

Covering his body with your he leans down over you, grazing the shell of your ear with his teeth, sending a shiver through your body, landing a jolt of arousal straight in your core. 

"I want to taste you, but I don't think I can wait any longer to be inside of you."

Dean settled himself between your legs and started to rut his leaking erection against your soaked folds, nudging your clit with every slow movement of his hips. A gasp fell from your lips as with one smooth pull of his body against yours he'd lined himself up with you soaking entrance, pushing himself inside slowly, stretching you in the best way as he bottomed out and both of you groan at the connection of your bodies.

Never breaking eye contact he started rutting himself against your body. Not really pulling out all the way or at all. Slowly, deep, he moved inside of you. His head is buried in your neck, as moans and shallow breaths falling form both of you as he hit places deep inside of you no one had ever reached. Building you both higher and higher until you were both tumbling over the edge together as his seed coated your walls and your body jerked underneath him, pulling and milking him as he spilled himself into you.

When you both finally came down from your he pulled himself out slowly, not bothering about cleaning yourselves up. He just pulled you close to his chest, playing with your hair while you just enjoyed being close to each other. One hand on the curve of your hips, running his fingers lightly of the skin there. Relishing in your body in a way that you were ashamed of. He saw you as beautiful, and he wasn't ashamed to show it. He loved your curves that you tried so hard to hide, and he made you feel beautiful. No one had ever done that before. 

After a long time, Dean chuckled to himself, making you look up at him in confusion. "What Dean?"

"Nothing. Just wait until I tell Sam you've been painting me like one of those french girls." 

You reach up and slap him on his chest with a laugh. "I'll kick your ass, Winchester," you say, trying to sound threatening. 

He didn't respond to your threat, knowing well that you couldn't even slap him hard enough to hurt him. 

You just laid there looking at the ridiculous smile on his face. You loved how it made the lines around his eyes stick out. The way he always perches his tongue between his teeth, but only the tip. The way his eyes seem to sparkle and just for a moment, he looks ten years younger than he really is. 

Those are the things you love about him the most. The little details most people miss. 

"What?" he asked when he looked down and saw you staring at him, still playing with your hair.

"Just enjoying all the little details."

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

Tag List: 

@deanwanddamons​​ @imabitch4jensen​​ @rvgrsbrns​​ @bi-danvers0​​ @onethirstyunicorn​​ @i-love-superhero​​ @akshi8278​ @alanegaming​ @magssteenkamp​ @lemondropirwin​ @squirrelnotsam​ @hobby27​ @spnbaby-67​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​

[honeyzen]

domesticated - k.d

genre: smut, petplay 

words: 4.4k 

warnings: kitten!play, dom doyoung, choking, unprotected sex (use protection!)

The sky outside darkened a midnight blue as you sat quietly on the couch, watching shapes and colours contort on the television. Your mouth widened in a yawn as shuffling footsteps wandered over from the kitchen, they gently pattered until your boyfriend Doyoung appeared from behind a wall. His eyes darted around the room as he set a bowl of popcorn on the table, fingers curling around a piece before he lumped down beside you. His tall frame slumped on the sofa, arm nearest to you stretching around, giving you the room the snake around his torso. Cosying into Doyoung you felt his fingers bury into your waist, his other hand reaching over and grabbing the remote. You felt the rumble of a pondering sigh, Doyoung beginning to flick through the channels as he always did. He was indecisive, easily bored and on nights like this, where neither had work the next day or a reason to protest, you knew how it would end.

Even the night you met he was like this.

In college, you had found it difficult to bond with anyone. Parties were too loud, being alone in your dorm was too quiet, balancing the two was near impossible. Especially when you hadn’t had much experience with people or being away from home in the first place. In the end, you relied heavily on your roommate to take you out and show you the way of the world. And she tried her hardest, it’s just that not much of it interested you though you did try your best.

After another night sat in the quietest room of a frat party, you began to feel despondent to the entire college experience altogether. You flicked through the books in the bedroom you’d barricaded yourself in, sighing when a porno magazine fell from between two classic novels. You bent over to pick it up, skirt riding high although it didn’t seem to matter alone in the room. As your fingers grabbed the corner as to avoid any residue that may linger between pages, you heard the oak door behind you open wide. A panic washed over you, heat rising to your cheeks as you half expected to spin around and find a drunken couple wanting to consummate. Instead, as you turned, while holding the magazine behind your back cautiously, you saw a sober looking man stood in the doorframe.

The blush hanging over your cheeks only intensified. His stature was large, shoulders broad in his blue, baggy jumper. Eyes big and brown, dark hair falling into his eyes as his slender fingers came up to brush it away. You stood speechless as his bottom lip became hooked beneath his teeth, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment before he stepped into the room. Your chest felt thick with embarrassment. You kept the magazine pressed tightly to your back, stepping back and the man stepped forward.

‘Sorry, I thought this room was free.’ You said quietly.

‘Uh, no, no, it’s fine honestly, I just um, usually keep my bedroom off limits while there’s parties. I like it, clean, don’t want people you know, in my bed.’ The man whispered, and despite the loud music, you could hear his every low toned word perfectly.

‘Understandable. I’m really sorry, I just kinda wanted to get out the way of everyone,’ you chuckled nervously, ‘I don’t really like parties that much.’

‘Like I said, it’s fine.’ The man smiled wide, exposing a gummy grin that only made you blush further. ‘I’m Doyoung by the way.’ He finished, reaching his hand out to shake yours.

Instinctively, you lurched forward. The magazine slipping out of your grip for just a moment, but long enough for it to drop to the ground. It splayed open on the carpet, thudding wide to the centre fold. Your chest tightened; stomach burned. You couldn’t bare to look back at what Doyoung was seeing.

‘I’m so sorry.’ You apologized quickly.

‘Where was that?’

‘Um, on the bookshelf, between Dracula and Wuthering Heights. It kinda just fell out, I, um, wanted to read.’ You laughed at how ridiculous you sounded.

‘Oh, right.’ Doyoung managed somehow to look more worried than you, his fingers scratching at his head. As his arm raised up, so did his jumper, revealing the soft toned torso beneath. You felt yourself tighten.

‘Look, I’m sorry, I should let you get to bed or,’ you mumbled as quickly as you could, wishing to vanish from the building altogether. You spun on your heels once again, bending down to pick up the magazine and return it to its owner. However, when you did, you actually saw what was sprawled across the pages.

A woman was sat on a red, leather sofa in a pristine lingerie, her privates covered though the sheerness left nothing to the imagination. Her arms were twisted behind her back, threaded together perfectly with thick, crimson rope. Her legs were wide open on the sofa, still covered in the same beautiful rope but this time only for aesthetic purposes. The expression on her face was that of pleasure, eyes closed, mouth wide kind of pleasure. Her makeup and hair was immaculate, untouched. It was a beautiful image, the kind that could have gotten away with being in an art gallery.

Confusion waved over you. The expectation of seeing unrealistic, graphic depictions of two women or a woman and a man had been dashed. There was only a soft, artistic image that left you with no words, only a deep yearning that maybe one day, you could be that woman. Clearly desired, clearly within someone’s control but beautiful and immaculate all the same.

Doyoung let out a withering sigh as you lifted the magazine and turned to face him. He stepped closer, fighting back the urge to rip the magazine from your grasp and throw it underneath his bed. Doyoung waited for you to wrinkle your face in disgust, to snicker at the image but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, you began to flick through the images. Turning your head to see all the sideward pages, tracing your fingers over the threads of rope that where consistent throughout the entire magazine. You pondered at it as though it were an art magazine, you seemed to appreciate it as one. Doyoung was gobsmacked.

After a few moments, you closed the magazine, handing it over to Doyoung. He gently took it from you, his fingers dancing over yours for a moment before the heat of his digits disappeared.

‘It’s beautiful.’ You said without thinking.

‘What?’

‘Um, it’s beautiful.’ You repeated.

‘Yeah, yeah, it is.’ Doyoung concurred nervously, staring at your features as they twisted in thought.

‘Do people actually do that? Or is it just for the pictures?’

‘You mean the, the rope?’ Doyoung asked politely as you merely nodding back shyly, your lip between your teeth.

‘I think I’d like to try it.’ You admitted, looking up at Doyoung to find his eyebrows scrunched in disbelief. ‘With you, please.’ You finished, not quite understanding what you’d asked for, but knowing in your gut that it felt right.

Nearly two years later and you were still trying out so many different, new things with Doyoung. When you met, you were both shy. Wrapped up in desires both of you thought no one but you had, but meeting each other, it gave you both the outlet you desperately needed. You often looked for things to try, often on nights like this when you both had time to kill. Whether it was between the pages of magazines or online, you found that both you and Doyoung had an endless stream of erotic things you wanted to try.

A ritual you’d created early into your relationship was looking at the trending page of a porn site, rooting around for something you hadn’t already done a thousand times and trying it. No pre-judgements, no reservations, just trying something to see the outcome. There were times when you or Doyoung decided the thing was not for you but often enough, both of you found that whatever you did, as long as it was with each other, it was perfect. This ritual however meant that things often got a little taboo which didn’t bother either of you but there was a certain stigma to some things and sometimes that did give you reservations. Out of an ingrained habit that was built into all people, when you saw something strange, it took a lot to try it. But with Doyoung, you never felt uncomfortable.

Doyoung sighed from beside you signally that he could find nothing to watch and so, the ritual begun.

You peered up at him, eyes big and doe. Doyoung waited for a moment before looking down and smiling warmly. ‘You wanna choose something tonight?’

Your mouth lifted to smile back at him, nodding happily, hands almost snatching the remote from your boyfriend. He chuckled. Usually you both picked, though really, you’d go along with whatever Doyoung wanted. Letting you choose without protesting was a special occasion and it made you light up like nothing else. You opened up the website on the television, still shy about looking at such lewd things in front of someone else on a large scale. The screen became sodden with erotic video links and dirty advertisements, all clearly made by men who knew nothing about women. You tutted to yourself, flicking down through the pages and pages until something towards the bottom left caught your eye.

‘Naughty kitten punished.’

With eyebrows knotted you turned to Doyoung. ‘Is this really a thing? Dressing up like a cat, I mean, I know I’ve done it for Halloween but for, fucking?’

‘Of course, it is. If you can think of it, there’s probably porn made of it.’ He retorted with a smirk wiped across his lips.

‘I don’t like that sentiment.’

‘So, that’s a no?’ Doyoung peered, careening his head to stare his umber orbs into yours. His grip around your side tightened a little, allowing you to feel the warmth emanating from beneath his black t-shirt. From habit, you closed your eyes, enjoying the small circles he drew into your hip.

‘Well?’

‘I, I mean, it’s weird, right? Dressing up like an animal?’ You said sceptically.

‘Obviously, but it’s not out of the league of what we’ve done before.’ Doyoung added.

‘I guess.’

‘It’s your call, princess.’

‘Uh, I mean, I have the costume… maybe it’d be nice to get some use out of it?’ You felt yourself defending your ideas, ideas that you knew deep down Doyoung would never judge. And yet, the shame of desire was so engrained in you, that you could not help it.

‘Let’s go get you dressed then.’ Doyoung smiled, standing from the couch, his stature above you like a skyscraper. You fought back the urge to reach out for his jean button right then and instead smiled to yourself with sparks alight in your mind.

‘Maybe I should go alone, if you come, we’ll never get back out the bedroom.’ You taunted standing up beside Doyoung. His smile lowered as yours grew ten-fold. You found your hands resting on Doyoung’s wide shoulders, pushing him back slightly until he sat back against the sofa. His legs widened, back slumping, as though inviting you to sit atop him, instead, you began walking to the bedroom, a chuckle leaving your mouth.

After sulking into the bedroom, you shared with your boyfriend, you began the hunt for the outfit you’d worn once and long forgotten. While it was true that Doyoung accompanying you would’ve lead to something before you’d be able to grasp the costume, you also needed to root through your messy wardrobe for it. Which was, undoubtably, a mood killer. Through grumbles and profanities, your hands dived through piles of clothes, each pile loosely organised by occasion. Dating Doyoung meant that the fancy dress pile was rather large and took some time to sift through. Until, almost at the bottom of the pile, two clip on ears poked out. As you grasped them, the soft fur tickled your palm, their deep brown nearly matching Doyoung’s eyes. Beneath the ears was a pink, leather collar that Doyoung had gifted you separate from the costume and to match, you pulled a set of pink, lacy lingerie from another messy pile.

You tugged down your sweatpants and removed the hoodie you’d stolen from Doyoung earlier in the day and pulled the pink lace over your head. The soft material felt like warm honey on your skin, and perfectly covered your body enough that you felt like the woman in that magazine. After slithering the undies up your bare legs, you grappled the ears once more. With fur between your fingers, you attached them high on your head, staring in the mirror at how sweet the clips looked. You smiled strangely excited for what you had been a little weirded out at first.

Staring down at your collar, a thought came to you, bringing warmth to your loin. You wandered over to a set of draws by the bed, heaved open the bottom section and pulled out a chain leash, the metal clasps jingling as you did so. Your smile grew as you flattened your hair and prepared yourself.

Timidly, you tiptoed back into the living room, head low as you approached where Doyoung still sat. With open palms, you knelt before your boyfriend, raising the items that sat atop your hands. After a few moments of silence, you peered up gently, looking over his face for any kind of emotion.

‘Look down.’ He muttered sullenly.

You followed his order immediately, keeping your palms up but eyes toward the hardwood floor. After another moment, the weight of the chain and collar disappeared and Doyoung’s feet came into your view and moved behind you. Though a cautious wave of anxiety rolled through your stomach, you still remained staring at the floor in silence. A sigh passed through your lips as cold fingers brushed your hair aside and cool leather pressed against your throat. Doyoung’s cold digits appeared again as he buckled up the collar and latched on the chain leash to hold you in place.

His hand remained low of the chain, gripping it so tight that it choked you slightly but still, you stared at the ground, motionless. A low snicker came from behind you, making your stomach swirl and tighten as moisture moved toward your heat. It was torture not to turn and look at him but following his orders was more important. You waited for what felt like forever until a palm mellowed over the top of your head, soothing over your hair, and following over the ears. Doyoung’s frame moved around you, allowing for you to see his lower legs once more and just knowing he was there, that he was the one touching you made it harder not to look up.

‘Look up at me baby.’ Doyoung finally said.

Your head snapped up immediately, big eyes staring desperately toward Doyoung and the grin smeared across his face. The confidence clearing instilled in him was terrifying and so, so arousing. You mewled, Doyoung raising his eyebrows as he smoothed over your head once more. From instinct you pushed your head up into his palm, nuzzling close to feel warmth from him.

‘My good kitten.’

A warmth filled your lower region, burning with every moment Doyoung touched you in any way. Until suddenly, a large heave bevelled through your body, the chain rattling as you were forced to push into Doyoung’s legs. Your hands leant atop his feet, wide eyes begging him to do something, anything. Doyoung merely grinned, tugging on the chain once more as he sat back on the couch and pulled you between his legs. Your features faced his crotch, mouth only a few inches from his covered length that tented his tight jeans. Just seeing you knelt before him, perky ears and collar and pink lace made him unimaginably hard and Doyoung struggled to compose himself. One more tug on your leash and your chin came to sit above his thigh. Doyoung released the chain, sitting it beside himself as he moved his fingers to his jeans.

You felt yourself smile, knowing what was to come. Pushing your face against his thigh, you purred, nose nuzzling into his clothed muscles. Doyoung let out a splintered moan, coaxing you to continue. As you did, you heard the undoing of a zip and rustling of thick material. The silence that settled in after is what made you look up, your eyes widening as you saw Doyoung holding his member tightly, slowly moving his hand up and down. He kept his darkened gaze locked upon you. Moving his other hand, Doyoung cupped your cheeks, soothing his thumb over the blush that painted your skin. His fingers moved slowly until he danced them to the back of your neck, his grip tightening and forcing your face forward. He pulled violently until you were face to face with his length.

‘Go on, kitten.’ Doyoung whispered.

He pushed his length toward you slightly, allowing your lips to engulf the tip and sink down the shaft. Doyoung let his head fall back against the sofa pillow and a low growl fall from his mouth. His noises only propelled you to continue, head bobbing up and down quickly as his member began to hit the back of your throat. It burnt, a kind of burning that travelled all the way down to your core, that was beginning to drip with desire. You lifted your hands and placed them atop Doyoung’s thighs for stability. Doyoung gripped your hair, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail and using it to control your pace. The tightness spread all over your body and ached in your loin. A need for Doyoung to be buried deep within you exploded.

The speed became relentless as you peered upward, staring at Doyoung’s scrunched up features; small, rhythmic groans pouring from his lips. You longed to kiss him, to nuzzle your fuzzy ears into the crook of his neck. You wished to be his pet forever.

‘Baby, stop, stop.’ Doyoung repeated frantically, pulling your mouth off his length by your hair. You understood why he stopped, for he wanted to be within you just as much as you wanted him inside you, but the loss of contact hurt, nonetheless. Spit dribbled from your lips, lining from Doyoung’s member to your mouth. He groaned low once more as you mewled, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

Watching from the ground, Doyoung pushed his hard member back in his jeans, sat up straight and patted his lap. You nearly leap up, pouncing onto Doyoung like the kitten you were pretending to be. With legs either side of him and arms slung over his shoulders, you waited. His expression twisted into a smirk, a devilish thought swirling around his mind.

‘Lie down on me, ass up.’ He muttered sternly. You watched his eyes for a further moment before Doyoung raised his eyebrows and nodded downward at his lap. You lifted yourself slightly and flipped over, placing your waist in Doyoung’s lap. Your face burrowed into the couch, feet kicking the edge of the seat and heat pressing directly onto Doyoung’s still stiff length. After a second, you felt as your boyfriend pulled your lace underwear down your thighs, cold fingers dragging over your skin. He lingered them back up to your ass, spreading his palm wide over the flesh. Doyoung kept it there for a moment, still and gentle, your stomach settling before suddenly, his touch disappeared and reappeared with a sharp, jolting sting.

A yelp came spurting out your lips, a chuckling emanating from Doyoung as again, his touch left and smacked back down. You mewled helplessly, another slap.

‘Count for me, okay kitten, five more.’ He said softly, swaying his hand over your red, hot skin before once more, lifting it and slapping it back down. A gasp escaped your throat.

‘One.’

Doyoung chuckled again, forcing down a particularly devilish spank.

‘Two.’

Your ass burnt painfully, the side that Doyoung had been slapping beginning to feel bruised and swollen. It was beautiful, and as another hit pummelled down upon you, a wave of pleasure rippled through you.

‘Three.’

Another.

‘Four.’

Doyoung soothed over your skin one more time as he lifted his hand and brought it down mercilessly. You yelped once more, feeling the other side burn just as the first. A small tear spat from your eye, trickling down your cheek and dripping onto the couch below.

‘Five.’ You croaked.

You lay down for a moment, air aggressively attacking your bruised ass as Doyoung removed his hand and placed into on the back of your thigh. He gently stroked the skin, giving you a few moments to catch your breath and recuperate.

Doyoung held onto your upper arm, pulling you up to kneel beside him. A finger coming up to swipe away a stray tear.

‘Do you wanna stop? We can?’ He enquired softly; eyes tender as his hand careened your jaw.

‘Fuck no.’ You said, leaping over once more to sit back in Doyoung’s lap, legs either side of his and lips reaching forward to kiss the man beneath you. With mouths collided, you wrangled your arms around Doyoung’s shoulders, his tongue darting between your lips and exploring your mouth. Instinctively, you began playing with the hair on the back of his neck, pulling slightly so Doyoung tilted his head back. You took advantage of the position, dragging your lips down to kiss and nibble at his slender neck. Doyoung groaned, his hands wandering to the underwear that still sat at your thighs, pulling them lower until they could no longer move. You felt the material dig into your flesh, stuck in their current position. While you wanted your bare heat to sit against Doyoung, you dreaded the idea of moving. He tugged again, helpless.

‘Rip them, rip them please, please.’ You begged, merely wanting to feel him beneath you, desperate for any pressure or friction against your heat.

‘Sure?’

‘Do it.’

Doyoung wrapped his fingers around one side of the fragile, lacy material and heaved it apart. The sound of ripping filled the room as Doyoung groaned, moving the material away as finally, he had access to your core. You felt the bulge in his jeans harden once more, pressed tight to the wetness that was pooling from within you. It burnt to be so close but separated by the already unzipped jeans. Doyoung held your hips, pushing you down to tease. A whimper fell from your lips.

‘Aw, is my kitten desperate? What does she want?’

‘You, please, I want you.’ You mumbled, unable to speak properly from sheer desperation.

‘Want me? To do what?’

‘I want you to fuck me! Please, fuck me!’ You almost screamed helplessly, Doyoung merely grinning, proud he had made you so desperate.

With his hands on your hips, Doyoung pushed you backwards further down his thighs. Giving him enough room to pull his jeans below his waist, allowing his hard member to spring gently from the material. It clung, pressed between his groin and your heat, that had, by now, created a wet patch on Doyoung’s trousers. You pushed upward, kneeling as you moved back up the thighs below you. Doyoung held your waist with one hand and with the other, moved his member to the entrance of your core. He was moving slow, but you wanted him, wanted him buried within you. And so, you pushed downward, feeling as you sunk onto Doyoung and he disappeared within you.

Doyoung let out a moan as you whimpered. The feeling of him inside you, putting pressure against you was intoxicating, so intoxicating that you could not move for a moment. As you began moving, slowly up and down Doyoung’s length, every inch of him burnt against every inch of you. The man below held desperately onto your hips, pulling you up and down to take complete control of the pace. The rhythmic tempo made a coil of pleasure begin to spin in your stomach, the grip upon you tight and almost painful. Another whimper fell from your lips as Doyoung let his head tilt back in pleasure. You shook, placing your hands upon his shoulders for stability, body nearly slumping against him.

His fingers began to trail up your body, tracing the pink, sheer lace that covered your breasts, swirling past and up your throat. His journey stopped, fingers halting and spreading up against your skin as he grappled the chain that attached to the collar. You let a loud moan explode into the atmosphere as you lifted yourself up and down Doyoung’s member, the pleasure in your loin beginning to burn. Low growls fell from Doyoung’s mouth, filling your ears like music as his grip upon you, both on your waist and collar, tightened. Air tightly passed through your windpipe, head spinning as you arched yourself quicker upon Doyoung. He growled loudly, his face scrunching up in pleasure as you felt him release inside of you, the warm liquid applying even more pressure inside your heat. The hot, wet feeling made you complete, and you felt yourself tighten and spasm on his member.

A last, prolonged mewl fell from your lips as you ceased your movements, still sat upon Doyoung’s member. His tempered sighs filled the room, grip on your collar loosening and hand falling back to your waist. You fell into Doyoung. Chests pressed together as sweat mixed like a cocktail of pleasure and sleepiness. Doyoung wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close, your cheek pressed flush against the crook of his neck. While holding you, Doyoung lifted slightly, giving him enough room to remove himself from your heat. A stifled moan fell from both of you, heat swelling around the room. You sighed, sleepy upon your equally tired boyfriend.

‘That was nice.’ You whimpered in a hushed tone.

‘It was, wasn’t it?’ Doyoung agreed, your head tilting upward to stare into his big, doe eyes. ‘C’mon kitten, let’s go and get you cleaned up and in bed.’ He soothed, fingers weaving through your hair as you purred once more against his chest. Nuzzling into him as your ears nudged his chin.

[c-c-cherry]

I simply must ask... could you spare some spooky Halloween headcanons? I know it’s not quite Halloween yet but I’d love to see your spin on a jojo Halloween!

Oho....hohoho...you have no idea what kind of a beast you’ve awakened in me...

Halloween is arguably the best holiday ever because free candy, costumes, and the weather is fucking PERFECT. (also idk what’s up with the rest of y’all but Canadian thanksgiving is in the middle of October so I’m still riding the high of good thanksgiving food by the time its Halloween (AND I’m half-American so we celebrate it in November too hehehe)

But long story short I love spooky season (and autumn in general) with a burning passion and I am SO willing to go hard on jjba spooky headcanons

Thanks again to @jjadegreen for alway being my best headcanon bud!!

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Part One:

-For the sake of this, I’m making them like 13 or something, like maybe not even a year after they met

-In 19th century England, it was actually pretty typical for them to have a bonfire on Halloween!!

-Halloween costumes were popularized a few centuries ago in France so you bet our phantom blood buds were wearing costumes and shit :)

-I doubt the rich participated in such “unruly” stuff like lighting shit on fire and bearing torches and whatever (but you never know)

-Like George probably spoiled Jonathan with candy as a kid and let him dress up with his school friends and that was it lol

-Dio though OH MY GOD-

-You know based on where he grew up that all that wild shit definitely happened

-He can’t say that he misses living like that, but there’s some kind of weird nostalgia that comes with it

-...which is why Jonathan is really confused when he catches Dio sneaking out of the mansion in the middle of the night

-Begrudgingly, he tells Jojo his plan and this boy’s eyes LIGHT UP

-Instead of being a “stupid, crybaby, tattletale,” as Dio puts it, Jojo is like,,,super hyped

-“Oh! I have an idea! Why don’t we sneak out in costumes so no-one knows it’s us??”

-The sheets on their beds may have two holes in them now, but it's worth it

-They hijack a horse or some shit and skeet over to a giant bonfire

-Dio thinks it's gonna be a drag since Jonathan is there to watch his every move, but it's actually,,,really fun

-As a kid who’s barely ever left his sheltered property, Jonathan is having the time of his life and Dio never thought he would be happy to see Jonathan so happy

-It ends with the two of them sitting by the river, absolutely exhausted from the rush and Jonathan pulls out this bag of shit from his pocket and is like

-“It’s candy!! :D”

-Dio could never really afford things like sweets on Halloween growing up so he’s a bit touchy about it but OH MY GOD that shit is GOOD

-Probably one of the only times where they actually bond properly

-BUT IF THIS IS MY POCKET DIMENSION THEN I CAN SAY THAT THEY BECOME FRIENDS >:)

Part Two:

-I’m just gonna start out with the fact that Joseph is fucking OBSESSED with candy. You know those kids you knew growing up that loved it more than anything on this goddamn earth? *cough cough @jjadegreen*

-That is Joseph

-And now that he consumes that type of shit with the power of mastered Hamon at his fingertips,,,holy shit man,,,it's like a child’s sugar rush but 100x worse

-Caeasr is put in charge of Jojo to make sure he doesn’t do anything idiotic *which he definitely will trust me*

-The MOMENT he goes to the bathroom, Suzi pops in like “JOJO!!!! :) Let's go trick or treating!!!”

-He can’t say no to that, bro,,,he and Suzi are tight ;-;

-While Lisa Lisa is out to meet Speedwagon and Erina and bring them back over to where everyone else is, Joseph sneaks out with Suzi and the two of them dash off into the streets of New York

Caesar: *steps out of bathroom*

“Jojo, what the hell do you and Suzi want for dinner?”

*silence*

“...Jojo?”

*Hears the screams of of children in the distance*

“JOJO, NO—”

-So turns out Joseph’s way of trick-or-treating at such an old age is just terrorizing young children and ransacking them for candy

-Suzi Q is just totally unphased by how awful this is and just thinks its the funniest shit

-Caesar is running out into the streets of New York like ???? and spots Joseph being himself and he could probably just pretend he doesn’t know them

-But,,,Joseph may be an idiot but he’s his idiot and Suzi Q is his bimbo best friend so he goes out to drag them back home

-Erina, Lisa Lisa, and Speedwagon are already home by the time they get back and Caesar sits Joseph down and chews him out in front of everyone

-Erina is super pissed and lectures him about “Joestar values” or whatever and tells a really embarrassing story about how a kid took his candy once when he was little and he cried about it for DAYS

-Caesar is still really angry about it so he replaces all of Joseph’s gummies with sugar free ones (you goddamn know the ones I’m talking about) but he didn’t know Joseph WOULD EAT THEM ALL AT ONCE

-He is so fucking sick on November 1st

-Also off-topic but Lisa Lisa gives out dental floss or some shit on halloween

Part Three:

-Honestly all Jotaro wants to do is buy candy for himself, hole himself up in his room like he always does, and just munch and watch shitty horror movies 

-But of course he has actual friends now

-Kakyoin tackles him before he can get his ass upstairs and suggests that they go out and trick-or-treat

-To which Jotaro thinks is a joke and laughs because he’s not only 17, but also 6’5” but Kak’s face looks dead serious

-Kakyoin goes on this long, detailed ramble about how he meticulously made the best Halloween route for them to get the best candy

-Now THIS is when Polnareff abandons whatever he and Avdol are doing to join in on the stupid plan they have

-When Kakyoin comes back with a handful of white sheets, they already know what he’s thinking and its brilliant

Kakyoin’s 5-step, foolproof Halloween plan:

Step one: It’s already established that stands can hold non-stand items (like when Star Plat whipped Iggy across the desert) so what’s stopping them from being able to have sheets over their heads?

Step two: They faze a bit of their stands into the ground so that they at least resemble the height of children (plus non-stand users can’t see anything besides the sheets so it's perfect)

Step three: Polnareff pretends to be the father of these shy children who can’t speak (he looks the oldest) while Jotaro and Kakyoin hide nearby so their stands don’t de-summon

Step four: Hit up every good house in the neighbourhood

Step Five: Candy.

(Kak used to put a sheet over hierophant all the time as a kid and always got twice the amount of candy each year)

-It actually works pretty well, aside from the fact that Star would sometimes scream “ORA” in a really deep, manly, not seven years old at all voice whenever the people at the door would try to speak with him or make him say ‘trick-or-treat’

-They finally reach the richest house in the neighbourhood, where the snootiest lady lives (but she has a shit ton of candy leftover every year since no one goes there)

-Once the stands knock on the door, she starts saying stuff like “ohh, let me see your faces so I make sure you aren’t too old for this” and ducks under to look at the sheets…

-...Only to find that there’s literally nothing there

-She looks up at Polnareff like 👁👄👁 and Kakyoin seems to get the message because one of hierophant’s tentacles grabs her ankle and she SCREAMS and throws her entire candy stash at them, slamming the door behind her

-Half of them are full-sizes chocolate bars. Candy acquired.

-When they get back, Joseph is so fucking angry that they didn’t invite him out for Halloween shenanigans  >:(

-Avdol and Holy have a very nice chat, meanwhile. They answer the door while everyone's gone and are so sweet to the kids about their costumes :)

-Also Avdol is 100% the kind of person to bake pumpkin seeds and season them and shit

-Kakyoin sorts all his candy and puts it on a spreadsheet and also make a pie chart just like he does every year

-T’was a very successful halloween

Part Five:

-Giorno is probably short enough to go out if he really wanted to

-But he has maturity issues and there would be no way in hell that the Bucci Gang would catch him going out in a costume and begging for candy

-So as soon as all the daily tasks and shit are met Giorno locks himself in his room

-He honestly wants some candy and to watch spooky movies with the gang but he just feels like an outsider to all of that stuff since he never did it

-So Bruno slips a thing of dracula-themed chocolate pudding under his door and leaves him be :)

-Narancia and Mista DO go out, however

-Not only do they go out and steal shit, but they also go and hit up houses for candy just for the fun of it

-The moment the clock strikes 6 Trish is OUT of there

-Girl is hitting up as many parties as she possibly can and eventually meets up with Nara and Mista at some shitty Halloween party and end up just buying really shitty beer and going to the graveyard or something

-Fugo wants none of that shit

-He’s perfectly content sitting with the black cat that Giorno made him and watching shitty reruns of whatever’s on

-Bruno takes out his tacky Halloween apron that definitely looks something like this

-Fugo helps him make all this really good spooky-themed dessert shit and helps him sort the candy in the nut and nut-free bowls :))) (because Bruno really goes and does that)

-Abbacchio seems like the kind of person who would go really fucking hard with Halloween decorations

-Like, no explanation why, he just loves it and everyone knows not to get in his way

-The moment October 1st comes around, this man is in his ELEMENT. He’s READY.

-It’s the one month where he looks anywhere near normal compared to other people and man is ready to rock that shit

-Later that night they go to check on Giorno and find him asleep surrounded by bags of candy

-Turns out he snuck out and had a good time after all :’)

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You’re wondering why I skipped part 4, right? ↓ ↓ 

I’m sorry to disappoint y’all, but I don’t think I’m gonna be doing much for Whumptober this year! (I’m just shit at monthly challenges in general lmao) but I think y’all need a breather from all this giant dump of whumpy stuff coming this month, so I, your dear friend Cherry, have decided to write fics throughout the month that I dub SOFT HALLOWEEN :D  (with uhhh a side of whump and hurt/comfort and all that shit because I can’t help myself)

It’s gonna vary (hopefully from parts 1-5)! I didn’t add any part four headcanons in here because Jade and I are literally writing part 4 shenanigans first and we didn’t wanna spoil anything :)

SPEAKING OF SPOILERS here’s a horrifying, blurry, teaser picture that’s only gonna make sense once you read the fic:

Isn’t it beautiful?

Hope you enjoyed these!! Tell me what you want the Jojos to do on Halloween!

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Ok so apparently its not normal to sort your candy by type, count it all out and then put it into a spreadsheet which then gets made into a graph? Because I did that. EVERY. FUCKING. YEAR. Ask Jade​. She was there every goddamn time. Please I’m begging you someone else tell me you did shit like this I need to know

[honeyctzen]

domesticated - kd

genre: smut, petplay

warnings: kitten!play, dom!doyoung, oral (male recieving), unprotected sex, spanking 

words: 4.4k

The sky outside darkened a midnight blue as you sat quietly on the couch, watching shapes and colours contort on the television. Your mouth widened in a yawn as shuffling footsteps wandered over from the kitchen, they gently pattered until your boyfriend Doyoung appeared from behind a wall. His eyes darted around the room as he set a bowl of popcorn on the table, fingers curling around a piece before he lumped down beside you. His tall frame slumped on the sofa, arm nearest to you stretching around, giving you the room the snake around his torso. Cosying into Doyoung you felt his fingers bury into your waist, his other hand reaching over and grabbing the remote. You felt the rumble of a pondering sigh, Doyoung beginning to flick through the channels as he always did. He was indecisive, easily bored and on nights like this, where neither had work the next day or a reason to protest, you knew how it would end.

Even the night you met he was like this.

In college, you had found it difficult to bond with anyone. Parties were too loud, being alone in your dorm was too quiet, balancing the two was near impossible. Especially when you hadn’t had much experience with people or being away from home in the first place. In the end, you relied heavily on your roommate to take you out and show you the way of the world. And she tried her hardest, it’s just that not much of it interested you though you did try your best.

After another night sat in the quietest room of a frat party, you began to feel despondent to the entire college experience altogether. You flicked through the books in the bedroom you’d barricaded yourself in, sighing when a porno magazine fell from between two classic novels. You bent over to pick it up, skirt riding high although it didn’t seem to matter alone in the room. As your fingers grabbed the corner as to avoid any residue that may linger between pages, you heard the oak door behind you open wide. A panic washed over you, heat rising to your cheeks as you half expected to spin around and find a drunken couple wanting to consummate. Instead, as you turned, while holding the magazine behind your back cautiously, you saw a sober looking man stood in the doorframe.

The blush hanging over your cheeks only intensified. His stature was large, shoulders broad in his blue, baggy jumper. Eyes big and brown, dark hair falling into his eyes as his slender fingers came up to brush it away. You stood speechless as his bottom lip became hooked beneath his teeth, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment before he stepped into the room. Your chest felt thick with embarrassment. You kept the magazine pressed tightly to your back, stepping back and the man stepped forward.

‘Sorry, I thought this room was free.’ You said quietly.

‘Uh, no, no, it’s fine honestly, I just um, usually keep my bedroom off limits while there’s parties. I like it, clean, don’t want people you know, in my bed.’ The man whispered, and despite the loud music, you could hear his every low toned word perfectly.

‘Understandable. I’m really sorry, I just kinda wanted to get out the way of everyone,’ you chuckled nervously, ‘I don’t really like parties that much.’

‘Like I said, it’s fine.’ The man smiled wide, exposing a gummy grin that only made you blush further. ‘I’m Doyoung by the way.’ He finished, reaching his hand out to shake yours.

Instinctively, you lurched forward. The magazine slipping out of your grip for just a moment, but long enough for it to drop to the ground. It splayed open on the carpet, thudding wide to the centre fold. Your chest tightened; stomach burned. You couldn’t bare to look back at what Doyoung was seeing.

‘I’m so sorry.’ You apologized quickly.

‘Where was that?’

‘Um, on the bookshelf, between Dracula and Wuthering Heights. It kinda just fell out, I, um, wanted to read.’ You laughed at how ridiculous you sounded.

‘Oh, right.’ Doyoung managed somehow to look more worried than you, his fingers scratching at his head. As his arm raised up, so did his jumper, revealing the soft toned torso beneath. You felt yourself tighten.

‘Look, I’m sorry, I should let you get to bed or,’ you mumbled as quickly as you could, wishing to vanish from the building altogether. You spun on your heels once again, bending down to pick up the magazine and return it to its owner. However, when you did, you actually saw what was sprawled across the pages.

A woman was sat on a red, leather sofa in a pristine lingerie, her privates covered though the sheerness left nothing to the imagination. Her arms were twisted behind her back, threaded together perfectly with thick, crimson rope. Her legs were wide open on the sofa, still covered in the same beautiful rope but this time only for aesthetic purposes. The expression on her face was that of pleasure, eyes closed, mouth wide kind of pleasure. Her makeup and hair was immaculate, untouched. It was a beautiful image, the kind that could have gotten away with being in an art gallery.

Confusion waved over you. The expectation of seeing unrealistic, graphic depictions of two women or a woman and a man had been dashed. There was only a soft, artistic image that left you with no words, only a deep yearning that maybe one day, you could be that woman. Clearly desired, clearly within someone’s control but beautiful and immaculate all the same.

Doyoung let out a withering sigh as you lifted the magazine and turned to face him. He stepped closer, fighting back the urge to rip the magazine from your grasp and throw it underneath his bed. Doyoung waited for you to wrinkle your face in disgust, to snicker at the image but nothing of the sort happened. Instead, you began to flick through the images. Turning your head to see all the sideward pages, tracing your fingers over the threads of rope that where consistent throughout the entire magazine. You pondered at it as though it were an art magazine, you seemed to appreciate it as one. Doyoung was gobsmacked.

After a few moments, you closed the magazine, handing it over to Doyoung. He gently took it from you, his fingers dancing over yours for a moment before the heat of his digits disappeared.

‘It’s beautiful.’ You said without thinking.

‘What?’

‘Um, it’s beautiful.’ You repeated.

‘Yeah, yeah, it is.’ Doyoung concurred nervously, staring at your features as they twisted in thought.

‘Do people actually do that? Or is it just for the pictures?’

‘You mean the, the rope?’ Doyoung asked politely as you merely nodding back shyly, your lip between your teeth.

‘I think I’d like to try it.’ You admitted, looking up at Doyoung to find his eyebrows scrunched in disbelief. ‘With you, please.’ You finished, not quite understanding what you’d asked for, but knowing in your gut that it felt right.

Nearly two years later and you were still trying out so many different, new things with Doyoung. When you met, you were both shy. Wrapped up in desires both of you thought no one but you had, but meeting each other, it gave you both the outlet you desperately needed. You often looked for things to try, often on nights like this when you both had time to kill. Whether it was between the pages of magazines or online, you found that both you and Doyoung had an endless stream of erotic things you wanted to try.

A ritual you’d created early into your relationship was looking at the trending page of a porn site, rooting around for something you hadn’t already done a thousand times and trying it. No pre-judgements, no reservations, just trying something to see the outcome. There were times when you or Doyoung decided the thing was not for you but often enough, both of you found that whatever you did, as long as it was with each other, it was perfect. This ritual however meant that things often got a little taboo which didn’t bother either of you but there was a certain stigma to some things and sometimes that did give you reservations. Out of an ingrained habit that was built into all people, when you saw something strange, it took a lot to try it. But with Doyoung, you never felt uncomfortable.

Doyoung sighed from beside you signally that he could find nothing to watch and so, the ritual begun.

You peered up at him, eyes big and doe. Doyoung waited for a moment before looking down and smiling warmly. ‘You wanna choose something tonight?’

Your mouth lifted to smile back at him, nodding happily, hands almost snatching the remote from your boyfriend. He chuckled. Usually you both picked, though really, you’d go along with whatever Doyoung wanted. Letting you choose without protesting was a special occasion and it made you light up like nothing else. You opened up the website on the television, still shy about looking at such lewd things in front of someone else on a large scale. The screen became sodden with erotic video links and dirty advertisements, all clearly made by men who knew nothing about women. You tutted to yourself, flicking down through the pages and pages until something towards the bottom left caught your eye.

‘Naughty kitten punished.’

With eyebrows knotted you turned to Doyoung. ‘Is this really a thing? Dressing up like a cat, I mean, I know I’ve done it for Halloween but for, fucking?’

‘Of course, it is. If you can think of it, there’s probably porn made of it.’ He retorted with a smirk wiped across his lips.

‘I don’t like that sentiment.’

‘So, that’s a no?’ Doyoung peered, careening his head to stare his umber orbs into yours. His grip around your side tightened a little, allowing you to feel the warmth emanating from beneath his black t-shirt. From habit, you closed your eyes, enjoying the small circles he drew into your hip.

‘Well?’

‘I, I mean, it’s weird, right? Dressing up like an animal?’ You said sceptically.

‘Obviously, but it’s not out of the league of what we’ve done before.’ Doyoung added.

‘I guess.’

‘It’s your call, princess.’

‘Uh, I mean, I have the costume… maybe it’d be nice to get some use out of it?’ You felt yourself defending your ideas, ideas that you knew deep down Doyoung would never judge. And yet, the shame of desire was so engrained in you, that you could not help it.

‘Let’s go get you dressed then.’ Doyoung smiled, standing from the couch, his stature above you like a skyscraper. You fought back the urge to reach out for his jean button right then and instead smiled to yourself with sparks alight in your mind.

‘Maybe I should go alone, if you come, we’ll never get back out the bedroom.’ You taunted standing up beside Doyoung. His smile lowered as yours grew ten-fold. You found your hands resting on Doyoung’s wide shoulders, pushing him back slightly until he sat back against the sofa. His legs widened, back slumping, as though inviting you to sit atop him, instead, you began walking to the bedroom, a chuckle leaving your mouth.

After sulking into the bedroom, you shared with your boyfriend, you began the hunt for the outfit you’d worn once and long forgotten. While it was true that Doyoung accompanying you would’ve lead to something before you’d be able to grasp the costume, you also needed to root through your messy wardrobe for it. Which was, undoubtedly, a mood killer. Through grumbles and profanities, your hands dived through piles of clothes, each pile loosely organised by occasion. Dating Doyoung meant that the fancy dress pile was rather large and took some time to sift through. Until, almost at the bottom of the pile, two clip on ears poked out. As you grasped them, the soft fur tickled your palm, their deep brown nearly matching Doyoung’s eyes. Beneath the ears was a pink, leather collar that Doyoung had gifted you separate from the costume and to match, you pulled a set of pink, lacy lingerie from another messy pile.

You tugged down your sweatpants and removed the hoodie you’d stolen from Doyoung earlier in the day and pulled the pink lace over your head. The soft material felt like warm honey on your skin, and perfectly covered your body enough that you felt like the woman in that magazine. After slithering the undies up your bare legs, you grappled the ears once more. With fur between your fingers, you attached them high on your head, staring in the mirror at how sweet the clips looked. You smiled strangely excited for what you had been a little weirded out at first.

Staring down at your collar, a thought came to you, bringing warmth to your loin. You wandered over to a set of draws by the bed, heaved open the bottom section and pulled out a chain leash, the metal clasps jingling as you did so. Your smile grew as you flattened your hair and prepared yourself.

Timidly, you tiptoed back into the living room, head low as you approached where Doyoung still sat. With open palms, you knelt before your boyfriend, raising the items that sat atop your hands. After a few moments of silence, you peered up gently, looking over his face for any kind of emotion.

‘Look down.’ He muttered sullenly.

You followed his order immediately, keeping your palms up but eyes toward the hardwood floor. After another moment, the weight of the chain and collar disappeared and Doyoung’s feet came into your view and moved behind you. Though a cautious wave of anxiety rolled through your stomach, you still remained staring at the floor in silence. A sigh passed through your lips as cold fingers brushed your hair aside and cool leather pressed against your throat. Doyoung’s cold digits appeared again as he buckled up the collar and latched on the chain leash to hold you in place.

His hand remained low of the chain, gripping it so tight that it choked you slightly but still, you stared at the ground, motionless. A low snicker came from behind you, making your stomach swirl and tighten as moisture moved toward your heat. It was torture not to turn and look at him but following his orders was more important. You waited for what felt like forever until a palm mellowed over the top of your head, soothing over your hair, and following over the ears. Doyoung’s frame moved around you, allowing for you to see his lower legs once more and just knowing he was there, that he was the one touching you made it harder not to look up.

‘Look up at me baby.’ Doyoung finally said.

Your head snapped up immediately, big eyes staring desperately toward Doyoung and the grin smeared across his face. The confidence clearing instilled in him was terrifying and so, so arousing. You mewled, Doyoung raising his eyebrows as he smoothed over your head once more. From instinct you pushed your head up into his palm, nuzzling close to feel warmth from him.

‘My good kitten.’

A warmth filled your lower region, burning with every moment Doyoung touched you in any way. Until suddenly, a large heave bevelled through your body, the chain rattling as you were forced to push into Doyoung’s legs. Your hands leant atop his feet, wide eyes begging him to do something, anything. Doyoung merely grinned, tugging on the chain once more as he sat back on the couch and pulled you between his legs. Your features faced his crotch, mouth only a few inches from his covered length that tented his tight jeans. Just seeing you knelt before him, perky ears and collar and pink lace made him unimaginably hard and Doyoung struggled to compose himself. One more tug on your leash and your chin came to sit above his thigh. Doyoung released the chain, sitting it beside himself as he moved his fingers to his jeans.

You felt yourself smile, knowing what was to come. Pushing your face against his thigh, you purred, nose nuzzling into his clothed muscles. Doyoung let out a splintered moan, coaxing you to continue. As you did, you heard the undoing of a zip and rustling of thick material. The silence that settled in after is what made you look up, your eyes widening as you saw Doyoung holding his member tightly, slowly moving his hand up and down. He kept his darkened gaze locked upon you. Moving his other hand, Doyoung cupped your cheeks, soothing his thumb over the blush that painted your skin. His fingers moved slowly until he danced them to the back of your neck, his grip tightening and forcing your face forward. He pulled violently until you were face to face with his length.

‘Go on, kitten.’ Doyoung whispered.

He pushed his length toward you slightly, allowing your lips to engulf the tip and sink down the shaft. Doyoung let his head fall back against the sofa pillow and a low growl fall from his mouth. His noises only propelled you to continue, head bobbing up and down quickly as his member began to hit the back of your throat. It burnt, a kind of burning that travelled all the way down to your core, that was beginning to drip with desire. You lifted your hands and placed them atop Doyoung’s thighs for stability. Doyoung gripped your hair, twisting it into a makeshift ponytail and using it to control your pace. The tightness spread all over your body and ached in your loin. A need for Doyoung to be buried deep within you exploded.

The speed became relentless as you peered upward, staring at Doyoung’s scrunched up features; small, rhythmic groans pouring from his lips. You longed to kiss him, to nuzzle your fuzzy ears into the crook of his neck. You wished to be his pet forever.

‘Baby, stop, stop.’ Doyoung repeated frantically, pulling your mouth off his length by your hair. You understood why he stopped, for he wanted to be within you just as much as you wanted him inside you, but the loss of contact hurt, nonetheless. Spit dribbled from your lips, lining from Doyoung’s member to your mouth. He groaned low once more as you mewled, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

Watching from the ground, Doyoung pushed his hard member back in his jeans, sat up straight and patted his lap. You nearly leap up, pouncing onto Doyoung like the kitten you were pretending to be. With legs either side of him and arms slung over his shoulders, you waited. His expression twisted into a smirk, a devilish thought swirling around his mind.

‘Lie down on me, ass up.’ He muttered sternly. You watched his eyes for a further moment before Doyoung raised his eyebrows and nodded downward at his lap. You lifted yourself slightly and flipped over, placing your waist in Doyoung’s lap. Your face burrowed into the couch, feet kicking the edge of the seat and heat pressing directly onto Doyoung’s still stiff length. After a second, you felt as your boyfriend pulled your lace underwear down your thighs, cold fingers dragging over your skin. He lingered them back up to your ass, spreading his palm wide over the flesh. Doyoung kept it there for a moment, still and gentle, your stomach settling before suddenly, his touch disappeared and reappeared with a sharp, jolting sting.

A yelp came spurting out your lips, a chuckling emanating from Doyoung as again, his touch left and smacked back down. You mewled helplessly, another slap.

‘Count for me, okay kitten, five more.’ He said softly, swaying his hand over your red, hot skin before once more, lifting it and slapping it back down. A gasp escaped your throat.

‘One.’

Doyoung chuckled again, forcing down a particularly devilish spank.

‘Two.’

Your ass burnt painfully, the side that Doyoung had been slapping beginning to feel bruised and swollen. It was beautiful, and as another hit pummelled down upon you, a wave of pleasure rippled through you.

‘Three.’

Another.

‘Four.’

Doyoung soothed over your skin one more time as he lifted his hand and brought it down mercilessly. You yelped once more, feeling the other side burn just as the first. A small tear spat from your eye, trickling down your cheek and dripping onto the couch below.

‘Five.’ You croaked.

You lay down for a moment, air aggressively attacking your bruised ass as Doyoung removed his hand and placed into on the back of your thigh. He gently stroked the skin, giving you a few moments to catch your breath and recuperate.

Doyoung held onto your upper arm, pulling you up to kneel beside him. A finger coming up to swipe away a stray tear.

‘Do you wanna stop? We can?’ He enquired softly; eyes tender as his hand careened your jaw.

‘Fuck no.’ You said, leaping over once more to sit back in Doyoung’s lap, legs either side of his and lips reaching forward to kiss the man beneath you. With mouths collided, you wrangled your arms around Doyoung’s shoulders, his tongue darting between your lips and exploring your mouth. Instinctively, you began playing with the hair on the back of his neck, pulling slightly so Doyoung tilted his head back. You took advantage of the position, dragging your lips down to kiss and nibble at his slender neck. Doyoung groaned, his hands wandering to the underwear that still sat at your thighs, pulling them lower until they could no longer move. You felt the material dig into your flesh, stuck in their current position. While you wanted your bare heat to sit against Doyoung, you dreaded the idea of moving. He tugged again, helpless.

‘Rip them, rip them please, please.’ You begged, merely wanting to feel him beneath you, desperate for any pressure or friction against your heat.

‘Sure?’

‘Do it.’

Doyoung wrapped his fingers around one side of the fragile, lacy material and heaved it apart. The sound of ripping filled the room as Doyoung groaned, moving the material away as finally, he had access to your core. You felt the bulge in his jeans harden once more, pressed tight to the wetness that was pooling from within you. It burnt to be so close but separated by the already unzipped jeans. Doyoung held your hips, pushing you down to tease. A whimper fell from your lips.

‘Aw, is my kitten desperate? What does she want?’

‘You, please, I want you.’ You mumbled, unable to speak properly from sheer desperation.

‘Want me? To do what?’

‘I want you to fuck me! Please, fuck me!’ You almost screamed helplessly, Doyoung merely grinning, proud he had made you so desperate.

With his hands on your hips, Doyoung pushed you backwards further down his thighs. Giving him enough room to pull his jeans below his waist, allowing his hard member to spring gently from the material. It clung, pressed between his groin and your heat, that had, by now, created a wet patch on Doyoung’s trousers. You pushed upward, kneeling as you moved back up the thighs below you. Doyoung held your waist with one hand and with the other, moved his member to the entrance of your core. He was moving slow, but you wanted him, wanted him buried within you. And so, you pushed downward, feeling as you sunk onto Doyoung and he disappeared within you.

Doyoung let out a moan as you whimpered. The feeling of him inside you, putting pressure against you was intoxicating, so intoxicating that you could not move for a moment. As you began moving, slowly up and down Doyoung’s length, every inch of him burnt against every inch of you. The man below held desperately onto your hips, pulling you up and down to take complete control of the pace. The rhythmic tempo made a coil of pleasure begin to spin in your stomach, the grip upon you tight and almost painful. Another whimper fell from your lips as Doyoung let his head tilt back in pleasure. You shook, placing your hands upon his shoulders for stability, body nearly slumping against him.

His fingers began to trail up your body, tracing the pink, sheer lace that covered your breasts, swirling past and up your throat. His journey stopped, fingers halting and spreading up against your skin as he grappled the chain that attached to the collar. You let a loud moan explode into the atmosphere as you lifted yourself up and down Doyoung’s member, the pleasure in your loin beginning to burn. Low growls fell from Doyoung’s mouth, filling your ears like music as his grip upon you, both on your waist and collar, tightened. Air tightly passed through your windpipe, head spinning as you arched yourself quicker upon Doyoung. He growled loudly, his face scrunching up in pleasure as you felt him release inside of you, the warm liquid applying even more pressure inside your heat. The hot, wet feeling made you complete, and you felt yourself tighten and spasm on his member.

A last, prolonged mewl fell from your lips as you ceased your movements, still sat upon Doyoung’s member. His tempered sighs filled the room, grip on your collar loosening and hand falling back to your waist. You fell into Doyoung. Chests pressed together as sweat mixed like a cocktail of pleasure and sleepiness. Doyoung wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close, your cheek pressed flush against the crook of his neck. While holding you, Doyoung lifted slightly, giving him enough room to remove himself from your heat. A stifled moan fell from both of you, heat swelling around the room. You sighed, sleepy upon your equally tired boyfriend.

‘That was nice.’ You whimpered in a hushed tone.

‘It was, wasn’t it?’ Doyoung agreed, your head tilting upward to stare into his big, doe eyes. ‘C’mon kitten, let’s go and get you cleaned up and in bed.’ He soothed, fingers weaving through your hair as you purred once more against his chest. Nuzzling into him as your ears nudged his chin.

[dazzledamazon]

Break Free 1/1

 Ella handed Hank his beer,”You are honestly telling me that you’ve never watched the original 1931 Dracula? Seriously?,” she asked him skeptically,

“Seriously,” he smirked, taking a swig of beer,

“I can lend you my dvd. There’s two versions. The Bela Lugiosi version and a Spanish version filmed at night on the exact sets after the other crew left. I’ve watched it. Pretty cool,” Ella grinned.

“You watched the Spanish version? Have you been teasing me the whole time saying you didnt speak Spanish?,” he asked suspiciously,

“Nope. Subtitles,” she grinned. “I’d never lie to yall,” she laughed, “You never did answer my question big guy. Ya wanna borrow my copy? Has special features and everything.”

“How about you bring it over and we do movie night at my place?,” Hank quietly asked.

He shyly looked at her. They had flirted but neither had done anything about it. She was really shy. Ella’s blond hair fell in front of her face, She looked at him from under her lashes, her smile lit up her face.

“Sounds like a plan. You just tell me the time and place.”

Before Hank could say anything, Riz yelled something at him and Ella’s cell rang. The smile quickly fell from her face after she answered it. 

“Hold on,” her normally soft voice became sharp,

Hank put his hand on hers, “El, you ok?”

She smiled at him,”Yeah, I have to take this real quick, Family bullshit, I’ll be right back,” she said, grabbing a beer, kissing his cheek and basically running out of the bar.

Hank joined Bishop, Riz and Taza at a table. They’d all watched their brother finally make a move on Ella only for this call to disturb the mood.All of them knew what it meant when Ella left taking a call from her family. She was related to Emily Galindo distantly, somehow. Like 5th or 6th cousin twice removed. 

“Think she’ll be ok?”, Taza asked.

“Hope so, El is so damn loyal to them. They treat her like a piece of fuckin shit. Yet they keep calling her,”Bishop sighed.

Ella had worked at the clubhouse as bartender for about 5 years. Every family holiday she spent alone. Always given excuses as to why she couldn;t be allowed to celebrate with them. One of the guys found out that Ella was the blacksheep of that family. Always had been. It was something about her father. No one really knew why especially her. She was the oldest of her siblings. 

“Your sister is getting married next week.”

Ella took a huge sip of her beer,”Why am I being told now?”

“There was no reason to tell you, Not until we got the RSVP’s back. And there was actually room.”

Ella had the speaker on, The woman screamed into the phone. Making sure she could hear every word, She sat as far away from the clubhouse as possible so the guys couldnt hear her. Never wanted them to know. 

“Mrs. Shear, I will try to be there. I have a job. I cant just take off at a moment;s notice.”

“Hmph. You mean a useless bartender can’t get a day off? Talk to them where they can understand. You should be with your own kind.”

Ella’s jaw set angrily. The guys were incredible people. Much better, no human. nothing like those plastic, unfeeling bastards where she was from. Only one thing had ever been taught to her, loyalty. Loyalty to family. The Mayans were the same. But what she never knew was there was a limit to that loyalty. 

“My own kind? As what? Galindo’s maid? or lower,” she mumbled.

“What did you say to me?”, her mother’s voice angrily boomed from the cell phone’s tiny speaker.

“I’ll try. Is there anything else Mrs Shears?”, Ella asked sweetly, wanting to vomit.

Her fingers tightening around the edge of the table so hard they were turning white. Angry tears started to fall. The phone clicked off. Ella sat at the table with her head in her hands. The phone rang again.

“Yes Mrs. Shears,?” she asked, 

“Watch your tone. If you don’t come, you’re disowned. Show up alone, you’re disowned. Doubt we will see you.’

Tears fell. Before she could say a word, Hank sat next to her. Hugging her, he leaned close to the phone.

“We will be there Ma’mm.”

“Hank...no,’ she said, quietly in shock,.

He shook his head,”Ella and I will be there. Send us the directions. Good day,” as he hung up.

“Hank... no,”

He looked at her,”I’m going with you. No arguments.”

“Hank no, They way she will treat you. You are too special to me. You dont deserve it. Please stay here,” she pleaded.

“I know all about them. I’m going.”

“Thank you but if you change your mind it’s ok.”

“I won’t,” Hank said, hugging her tightly.

Bishop, Riz and Taza watched them.

“Think this will end well for our girl?,” Riz asked.

Taza grinned,”Her family, hell no. Ella and Hank, maybe.”

“The minute they see him, they’ll disown her. He won’t be rich enough for them. Maybe that’s what our little sister needs,” Bishop replied.”She’s loyal to people who don’t love her. Maybe it’s about time Hank got off his ass and told how much he does,” he chuckled.

The day arrived. They got to the hotel next to the church. The hotel, due to the wedding and several other events in town, was sold out. Only room available was next to the boiler and one bed. But it was paid for as part of the wedding party, which shocked Ella. She’d been really quiet the whole day.

“El are you ok?”

She nodded,”Yeah. It’s just kinda weird to be back here after all this time.”

“How long?”

“Six years. The last Christmas before my Grandma died. After that I moved. Got a job bartending for a bunch of ruffians who are just a bunch of great guys,” she smiled.

“Don’t let it get around huh? Might ruin our image. Go and change. It’ll be ok,” he said giving her a tight hug.

“Thank you”

Ella walked out wearing a knee length, sleeveless cobalt blue dress. Her blonde hair in a loose braid. Hank was floored.

“You’re stunning.”

“Thank you Hank. You’re not so bad yourself handsome,” she said, admiring him in the black blazer and ensemble.

After the ceremony and purposely being seated in the very last pew, they got to the reception.

“Ella are you sure you want to stay,?” Hank asked, seeing the disapproving looks she’d gotten.

“Just a few minutes. Then I want to take my handsome date out,” she said, a blush appearing on her face.

“Dance with me,” he said, holding out his hand.

They slow danced until a throat loudly cleared behind them.

“Cinderella,you know never to dance with the help. It’s embarrassing to me,” her mother said.

“Mother, Hank is MY DATE and MY best friend.”

Hank took her hand in his tightly,pulling her as close to him as possible,”Mrs Spears, beautiful wedding.”

“How dare you bring him!”

“You don’t even know him you fucking bitch.”

Hank and her mother’s eyes both widened in shock. Ella could curse but it was rare. She’d never cursed at her mother before but treating Hank that way did it. She’d defend him and any of the Mayans. Her real family.

“You want respect you’ve never given. Love you don’t deserve. I’ve been loyal to this family because I was supposed to. Bitch it’s supposed to go both ways. Take these “family” heirlooms fake jewelry more like it, and shove em your ass. It’ll be the most action you’ve had in years,” she hissed,” taking the bracelet, necklace and ring off and throwing them into her slice of cake.

Unless you were up close like Hank was, you’d have thought they were just chatting happily.

“Just like your father. Running away with the first person who gives you attention,” she said with venom. Throwing her glass of champagne in Ella’s face ,” Leave you have no family”

“Yes she does. She’s got me,” Hank replied, pulling her close, before leading her out of the reception and to their room.

They walked into the room. Ella started to apologize when Hank put a finger to her lips.

“Don’t.”

“She shouldn’t have spo..”

Hank put a finger to her lips,”Id have come anyway. You have an actual family that loves you. We will always be there.”

“I know that now. I guess I was scared after them, that I’d be wrong. Bish, Taza,Riz, Creepie, Angel, Coco, Gilly,Chucky, EZ. And definitely you Hank.”

Hank kissed her,” I love you Ella. My Princesa.”

“I love you my Prince Charming in a cut. Always have.”

“Change beautiful. I want to show off my lioness. MY girl. Take you on a real date. Before we have to go back home,” he said kissing her forehead.

She beamed at him,”I wanna show off my man”

The next afternoon when they got back, after Hank told them about what happened with her mother, she hugged the guys.

“I missed my real familia, you knuckleheads, but I came back with my man,” she said kissing Hank, as the guys cheered and she flipped them off.

@everyhowlmarksthedead @chibsytelford

@basickassandra @elcococruz @samcrobae @mayans-mc @shameless-pope @arveeee @hermankopusortizorsumshite

[ask-anti-cosmo]

Anti-Cosmo X reader my dear pet part 2

You were sitting in your room, feeling very confused as you were just teleported there by Anti-Cosmo right as he was getting in a fight with a little bald red-eyed Anti-fairy. You sighed and laid down on your bed. Why was Anti-Cosmo being so nice all of a sudden? Honestly it just worried you….

You heard Anti-Cosmo enter and you quickly stood up from fear. He simply walked over to you and wrapped a tap measure around your waist.

“W…what are you trying to do?” You asked worriedly.

“Take your measurements.” He shrugged.

“For my coffin…?”

“No silly, I want to make you a dress.” He chuckled, making you blink at him.

“W-what? Y-you’re being nice?” You asked confusedly as he measured your hips, making you blush a little.

“I’ve decided to go to a party, down on earth its October, and a very rich man and woman are throwing a lovely costume party~”

“You’re taking me to a ball…?” You asked, feeling slightly excited. Other than the walk earlier, he had never taken you anywhere since you got there.

“Why not?” He grinned and gently wrapped the tape measure around your chest, making you blush more.

“Y-you just never take me anywhere…”

“I can have some fun~” He chuckled and got up, taking out his wand. He waved it and your clothes were replaced with a regular boring black dress. “Here we go, let start with the sleeves.” He smiled and made the sleeves long and slim, but had them flow out at the end with dark blue lace here and there.

You smiled at how pretty they were and then the skirt of the dress lowered into a mermaid style, and the fin part spread long on your left and super short on the right, making you blush a little. Blue ribbons laced up like a corset on each of your sides, and blue lace lined the collar.

“There.” Anti-cosmo grinned then frowned. “Hmm, something’s missing…”

“Stockings maybe…?” you said hopefully, feeling bare with your legs being displayed.

“No that’s not it, but I like the suggestion.” He grinned and made some appeared, but had the garter strap on the high side visible.

“T-that’s not what I meant!” You blushed and tried to hide it.

“Ah! I’ve got it!” He grinned and slide your sleeves off your shoulders.

“A-Anti-Cosmo…” You whispered embarrassedly before realizing what he was doing. He was putting your neck scars on display. “I-I don’t want to show these off!”

“But I do! It shows you’re mine!” He grinned. “Be happy! You’re beautiful!”

“That’s the last thing I ever expected to hear from you…” You huffed.

“Any how…” He poofed up a tall mirror for you. “Time for the final touches.”

“Final touches??”

“Cinderella didn’t go to the ball wearing only a dress you know.” He chuckled and waved his wand at your feet, making comfortable black heeled shoes appear. They looked like they were made of obsidian.

“Oh…” you said as you covered your mouth in astonishment.

Your ears got heavy with earrings similar to the one in Anti-Cosmo’s left ear. And a small black gemmed tiara appeared in your hair that was going up into a bun. Light make-up graced your face and you felt entirely new looking at yourself in the mirror.

“There, perfect for my little princess of misfortune~” He grinned

“T…thank you Anti-Cosmo…” You said quietly.

“You’re very welcome my dear~” He grinned and took your hand, kissing it. “Shall we then?” He grinned, swishing his hand to make a cape appear on his shoulders.

“O-okay…” You nodded, and you soon found yourself in front of a great house. People were flowing in and they were all dressed as if they were prepping for the red carpet. A Halloween styled red carpet.

Anti-Cosmo lead you inside to the grand hall, filled with people dancing and tables where food could be served. Halloween decorations covered the walls and stairs everywhere. “Absolutely wonderful~” Anti-Cosmo grinned.

“How did you get invited here…?”

“I know the owner.” He grinned. “Ah, speaking of, there’s my little porcelain doll herself~” He said, pointing to a woman who indeed looked like a doll, with platinum ringlets and a pastel frilly dress with a high collar. “Come, let’s go say hello~”

You agreed curiously and you two walked over to where the lady and her Dracula dressed husband stood. She was smiling at everyone till you two approached. She flinched at the sight and just stared with a look of fear as you two approached.

“Hello again my dear.” He grinned at her, making her flinch. She must have been one of his past victims, which actually gave you hope that he’d someday let you go.

“H-hello again….” She said softly. “How are you doing?”

“I am doing quite well.” He grinned and held you close. “As you can see…”

“I do see…” She nodded and looked at you sympathetically. “I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

“We will!” He grinned and took you into the crowd to dance. You began to feel conscious about your scars and the skin the dress showed off, making you blush as some men would leer at you. Especially when Anti-Cosmo would spin you, and your dress would flare open.

Anti-Cosmo leaned close to your ear. “If any other man dare touch you, tell me and I will bring the wrath of Hell upon him.” He whispered, making you shudder, but also somehow made you feel safer.

“Thank you…” You whispered back. “C-can I go get some food…?”

“Yes of course.” He smiled.

“Anti-Cosmo…why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” You asked.

“Go and get your snacks love.” He told you, ignoring your question. You sighed and went to the table to get something to eat.

“Hello…” A familiar voice said. You turned to see the Doll Woman Anti-Cosmo talked to earlier.

“Hi…” You said back shyly. “So uh...I assume you know what I’m going through?”

“Well enough…” She nodded. “When I was much younger, my family was a mess and reporters constantly wanted to prove it. But because I fed Anti-Cosmo, he was able to keep their secrets safe…”

“I see…” You nodded. “When did he let you go?”

“Let me go? I sent him away, He appeared in my house one day and promised me wishes for blood. I wanted my family to appear normal and perfect so I accepted. One day I had enough and told him to leave and never return.”

You blinked in astonishment. Will He leave you alone should you ask? You’ve never gotten a wish from him, so does that mean he owes you? He has taken blood from you almost constantly since he took you two and a half years ago.

“So what about you?” She asked.

“Um…he saved me from a sexual assault from a student at school…”

“Oh wow, wonder why, usually unless you as he waits till after the misfortune to approach you.” She chuckled lightly. “I’m sorry…time with him messed me up a little…”

“I can understand why…” You sighed and saw the Anti-Fairy call to you. “Gotta go…”

“Good luck.” She smiled.

“Like there’s a chance of that happening…” You mumbled softly as you went back to your master.

“There you are love~” He grinned and held your hands. His grin wasn’t his usual cocking look that made your stomach turn, it was more loving and happy. It made you smile back at him without realizing it.

You were too distracted by the kind green eyes looking in yours to notice the drunk man behind you that came over and groped your bottom roughly with both hands, making you squeal with surprise and embarrassment.

The next thing you knew, was Anti-Cosmo’s angry eyes burning with hatred at the man who touched you. To your great surprise though, he simply swatted the man’s hand away and pulled you closer to him.

“Keep your filthy hands to yourself sir!” He spat and walked you away.

“Wow…you handled that really well.” You said. “I thought you’d kill him…”

“I basically did.” He shrugged.

“What?” You blinked and looked back at the perv.

“Let’s just say, he going to find a cancerous lump downstairs.” He said subtly. “If he’s lucky, they’ll find it in time and he won’t die…He’ll definitely lose something reguardless.”

“Oooh….” You winced.

“Why don’t we head back home then?” He smiled.

"Right…home…” You mumbled.

“Yes, it’s your home too.” He told you gently.

“It’s my prison…and I think you own me some wishes!” You huffed at him, making him blink in surprise. “From all the blood you’ve taken from me! You did the Doll girl!” He then smiled his nice smile again.

“I supposed you’re right, but there are some wishes I will not grant.”

“Fine…” You grunted.

“So what is it you wish?” He grinned.

“I can guess you don’t want me escaping or anything, so those are probably out of the question…” You sighed. “Alright, I want either these scars from you gone, or covered!” You huffed.

He frowned slightly at that but sighed and waved his wand, wrapping a blue scarf around your neck. “There….”

“Thank you…”

He smiled at your thanks and kissed your cheek. “Let’s go…”

You agreed and followed him to the back where you both disappeared into your room. “I wish my room looked less like a dungeon…” you frowned.

“What would you like it to look like?” Anti-Cosmo asked.

You stared at him a minute. “Like a bedroom.” You said sarcastically.

“Boring, but fine.” He sighed and made it look like the room of a teenage girl. A very girly teenager, but at this point you were happy with anything. Even the pink walls and boy band posters. The vanity was super nice at least.

“Thank you…” You smiled happily. “Anti-Cosmo…Why are you being so nice to me?” You asked again.

“Come now dear, time for bed.” He said, avoiding the question again. He waved his wand and you found yourself in nothing but a night gown and underwear. The night gown was black, short-ish with soft mesh-like fabric over the black silk inside layer and spaghetti straps.

You blushed and tried to cover your legs before taking a breath. “Please stop avoiding the question.” You said bravely.

He paused a second before sighing.” I’m avoiding because I don’t know the answer myself…”

You blinked surprised but smiled at him softly. “Well…either way, thank you. It was a nice evening.”

He smiled back at you and kissed your head before leaving the room.

You sighed happily and flopped on the bed. He’s been so nice to you today! It’s made you feel so happy that he’s even trying! You got under the nice cover’s and felt yourself drift into the best sleep you’ve had in years. You were completely unaware of the red eyes that watched you.

[teaforten]

Rabbit and the Monkey Cups - (Part 1/2)

Did you need AIW fanfic? Here is AIW fanfic.

I haven’t written in a long time for this show, but it was Rachel’s birthday and I decided to turn a little thing into a big thing. But didn’t finish it, so this is part one of two. 

Here’s a preview, and the rest is under cut. Tumblr wanted to put a bunch of spaces in between every paragraph and frankly I don’t have the energy to take them all out, so sorry about that. 

Preview:

Wondermart was having a huge clearance sale on Halloween stuff, so Hatter and Hare were promptly there on a crisp November afternoon, to hit two birds with one stone. You see, Rabbit’s birthday was at the end of the week. How did they know? Alice had just told them. She was tagging along right behind them, actually, mentioning it in a timid fashion, because she herself was unsure what to get the bunny, or any bunny really, let alone one of his age.

“Ahhh, there’s got to be something here,” Hatter said to the other two confidently.  

“You think he might want a new cape?” Hare wondered, patting at some leftover Dracula capes at the end of a costume rack.

“It’s possible. How about a skull? You think he needs one of these?” By now, Alice was squinting as Hatter plucked up a funky glow-in-the-dark skull from a shelf of cheap yard decorations.

“No, let’s get him this candy bowl,” Hare suggested, though just as he indicated it, the plastic skeleton’s hands guarding its mouth closed around his hand and gave him a serious jolt.

“You guys...” Alice started.

“I want that for myself,” Hatter told Hare.

“Hell if you’re keeping that in your kitchen!”

“It’ll be great for my cookies!” Hatter insisted, with a scowl. “Lord knows you’re not keeping me away from them!”

“You GUYS.”

“Huh?” They both turned to her obliviously, holding each side of the bowl as the skeleton hands slapped open and closed.

“I don’t think Rabbit wants leftover Halloween stuff for his birthday,” she tried to tell them, in what was the most neutral voice she could manage.

“Are you sure?” Hatter wondered. She just rolled her eyes.

“Why don’t we try, uh, some plants at the nursery, or, or a sleep mask? Some fuzzy slippers?”

Her two companions looked to each other and shrugged like she might have a point.

So off to the Wonderland nursery they went, where Alice was plucking up pots of pansies and tulips and flashing them at Hatter and Hare, who seemed not at all impressed. “I mean they’re fine if you just want something to take up space in your window sill,” Hare told her with his eyes half closed. Alice was silent, as she really didn’t see a problem with this. “Alice. Alice Alice Alice~~” Hare drawled, looking around the nursery like he was embarrassed to have to explain this to her. “When my Grandpa December was around the Rabbit’s age, he was going through his very last existential crisis, and the last thing he needed was to fill up his window sills.”

Hatter nodded emphatically. “Mhm. Mhm. That’s a mid-life crisis kind of present.”

“What we need to get the Rabbit is something that reminds him that he’s in control of his life again.”

“Right! Something that says twilight can be just as exciting as any sunrise,” Hatter chipped in, swooping his hand into the air.

“I don’t know where you’re going with this,” Alice told them.

“Well obviously--” Hatter started... then he turned to Hare, looking for some help. “Where are we going with this?”

Hare was all shifty-eyed by now. “Come. Come, my children,” he said.

In no time, they were being led to the “restricted” section of the nursery… a shady little greenhouse shack thingy-mabob… covered with vines and thorns. And the woman helping customers there looked awfully witchy. Her wiry salt and pepper hair was stacked onto her head in a bun, almost all of her fingers had a ring, and she was walking around with a hunch. It gave Alice the creeps. Hatter, too. He was trying to hide behind her, actually, and it wasn’t working out very well.

“Do you have a membership card?” She asked Hare, also looking very shifty-eyed. Hare took out his wallet and flashed the goods. Then she jerked up her chin like a bouncer who had recognized one of their own, as if to say “a’iiiight, ya’ll’s cool to go in”...

In a very interesting turn of events, it was Hatter clutching Hare’s arm and nibbling his knuckles, and Alice trailing behind them, using his coat-tails as some kind of safety leash.

“Poisonous… carnivorous…” Alice read the signs hesitantly as they passed them.

“Cadaverous… smelly?!” Hatter screeched.

“Oh, the smelliest!” Hare flapped his hands and kept walking.

“I don’t think the Rabbit is going to want a smelly plant, Mr. Hare. After all, he’ll have to keep it at the palace, and if the Queen doesn’t like it…” Alice started.

“Well then I know! We’ll get him a guard plant!” Hare concluded. Hatter seemed both extremely terrified and extremely excited about seeing which selections of guard plant this place had.

“There are plants that can guard palaces?” Alice wondered incredulously.

“Shhh, everyone be quiet,” Hare told them. They weren’t far from an enclosure where a deep crimson light was shining on a beastly looking growth in the corner of the greenhouse. At its base was an array of spikey pads clustering around even spikier shoots and bulbs -- all more or less foaming at the mouths, or whatever it had.

“What? It can’t hear us--” Alice tried to say before Hatter’s hand fell over her mouth.

“You don’t know that,” he stage-whispered without looking at her. She almost had the nerve to bite him. Evidently, Hare had immediately forgotten to show any caution once he realized what was in the enclosure because he was bursting at the seams and hopping in place like a cheerleader without pom-poms.

“Oh, WOW. They said they were going to order it in, but I HONESTLY DIDN’T BELIEVE THEM. Look you guys, it’s a GIANT CATAPULTING FLYPAPER TRAP! And no wonder they’ve got these bars: someone could fall right into that thing and they’d be a GONER,” Hare told them, tenting his fingers and grinning from ear to ear, with every possible dimple in his face showing.

“Geez, Mr. Hare. I never realized you were so, well, morbid.” Hare looked mildly surprised for a second, then just shrugged.

“Anyway, Rabbit could never handle something like this. And look at the price. Oof!” They watched Hare take out a neon green notepad from his pocket and scribble down a note. “Reminder to myself to break open the ole piggy bank when I get home. I just might have enough!”

It was Hatter’s turn to lay down the line:

“Hell if you’re keeping that in your garden!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t put it in my garden. I’d put it in my dungeon,” Hare told him matter-of-factly.

“Ohhhhh. Well in that case… just remember to show it who’s boss.” A whole lotta eyebrow wiggling and elbow jabbing took place before Alice could no longer sit with this image. She pointed at the first thing she saw.

“Uhh, what about this? This looks exciting enough. What is it?” She asked Hare, who was even blushing by now. He cleared his throat.

“Oh, those are… I think I remember… oh yes! Monkey cups!”

“Monkey cups? That doesn’t sound too scary.”

Hatter and Hare shrugged. Their minds had clearly moved on to other things. “Nahhhh, guess not! It’d probably be perfect for Rabbit - he can feed it bugs and stuff when he’s having a bad day. Hahahahhaha!” Alice frowned just as soon as he winked at her. “What? We all know he has a sadistic side.”

@ @ @

As cool as the plant was, Alice wasn’t particularly sold on the idea that Rabbit would be satisfied with just that kind of gift on his birthday, so she begged and pleaded for them to come with her to hit the nearest convenience store. They were being absolute drama kings about it as if they were in some kind of black and white purgatory hell as she perused the greeting card section for just the right one.

“Come on, Alice. How is this watercolor pastel painting of flowers any different from the other ten that you looked at?” Hatter wondered with his eyes rolled back into his head and his giant purple body slumped up against one of the flimsy card racks. A clerk nearby could now see how precarious this situation looked and was watching them carefully.

“And they all say happy birthday!” Hare chimed in as he wandered up to Alice’s side. As he did so, she noticed that he was holding the pot of monkey cups off to one side of his chest, almost as if he had been breastfeeding them or something. He also randomly had a hiccup blanket over his shoulder. She scrunched up her face for a second before she had a response prepared.

“Yes, but they just don’t have that… oomf!” Alice told them, making sort of a “glitter exploding” gesture with her hand.

The both of them repeated the word several times to each other, also imitating the gesture.

“You know. A certain... je ne sais quoi?” She emphasized, even getting on her tippy toes. Hatter tilted his head and mimed the phrase in confusion while Hare tried to pronounce it. He even handed Hatter the plant so he could sort of pop his booty out and tip his toe, while still butchering the phrase spectacularly. Alice smiled and rolled her eyes. “It’s French. I learned it from my penpal, Yvette. It means. Well, it means that you don’t know what it means. But it’s something special.”

Hatter frowned.

“Alice, do you even know why we’re here?” He asked.

“Because we’ve been trying to figure it out for the past eternity.”

“We’ve been here for five or ten minutes tops. And yes, I know why I’m-- DUM!” She hopped when she saw a familiar face pass the glass from the outside. The Tweedles were on their way to the front doors. Hatter and Hare cranked their necks as the bell on the door jingled, while Alice went to greet the twins without a moment’s hesitation, as if they were rescuing her. It would seem they might have also been whispering their hellos and other exchanges, which was just plain rude, in Hatter’s opinion, based on the way he squished up his lips. He looked Hare in the eye and nothing further needed to be said.

Just as the Tweedles were heading back with Alice to the card section, they passed Hatter and Hare, who were on their way to the door. “Oh hey, you two!” Dee greeted, followed by some timid waving by Dum. “Hey guys, uh, we’re just gonna be going,” Hare told them, jutting his thumb out with a crooked smile. “It’s these poor little guys’ nap time.”

“Uhh yeah, and we’d hate to be a 4th and 5th wheel,” Hatter muttered, sort of coddling the monkey cups and shielding them from the Tweedles’ view. Hare was equally concerned about this and hovered around him, trying to put the hiccup blanket, which had a soft little cartoon cactus print, around Hatter’s arm and over the plant, going “sh sh sh…”

Dee cocked his brow and didn’t say a thing until they were gone.

Then, once they were:

“Why are they going around babying a patch of bright green dangling plant dicks?” Just as soon as he said it, Dum was seized by cackles… and more or less so was Alice. But hearing“Mr. Dee” talk like that was highly unusual.

She wanted to speak but couldn’t stop laughing and started sinking into herself. Dum had to pull her up before she hit the floor. “What?! What is it, Alice?! XD” He kept asking her.

“They’re not plant weeners!” She peeped into his ear, still trying to properly breathe again. “They’re m-monkey cups! They’re for the Rabbit! For his birthday!”

This started a whole new round of reeling between the Tweedles, which garnered the attention of the store clerk, who still wasn’t happy about Hatter leaning on all the card racks.

“Excuse me… do you three plan on buying anything?” He asked. He was old, uptight, and easy to dismiss.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Dee told him, swishing his hands before he let them fall on Dum and Alice’s shoulders. On their way to the cards, Alice tried to explain the meandering logic that had led her and her eccentric companions to and from the nursery today, with such an odd purchase.

“Well just make sure the Hare keeps the receipt, is all I’ve got to say!” Dum told her, earning a high-five from Dee.

“You guys wanna help me find something else?” She wondered, quite relieved just to be hearing sensible sentiments again. Dee thought about if he had any plans for the day.

“I’m game.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Dum said.

“A’ight. Let’s find something with some real je ne sais quoi around here and then hit that sleep store across from Just Add Sugar!” Dee turned up his nose with a smug smile like he knew exactly what he was doing. And he probably did.

@ @ @

It was five-thirty in the afternoon and Hatter and Hare were tipped back in their chairs with their bellies full of crumpets, cookies, and jam. And tea, of course. Lots and lots of tea. Beside the Hare was one of those bouncy baby seats that he periodically tipped with his foot. And inside of the baby seat was the pot of monkey cups, wrapped up in the cactus blanket. Several crumpet crumbs were surrounding it. “Do you think it liked the crumpets?” Hatter was busy scraping food out of his teeth and was probably in a food coma when he answered:

“I mean, it ate them, didn’t it?”

“I think so.”

Just then, they saw the Tweedles and Alice frolicking by, flailing shopping bags and sipping slurpees. It was an immediate outrage. Then they slam-dumped the empty cups into Hatter’s trash-can outside the gate. “Oh hi, Hatter and Hare!” Dum shrieked cheerily in a blur.

“Bye, Hatter and Hare!” Dee shouted, just as they were opening their mouths. Alice apparently didn’t even notice where they were or whose house they were passing. It just looked like she had been having the time of her life, or something.

“You know, sometimes, Hare… I don’t know about that girl.”

@ @ @

The day of Rabbit’s birthday, Hare was simply a sobbing mess, and Hatter was having to do a lot of bedraggled consoling that frankly he was not prepared for, in order to make this visit to the palace even possible.

“Come on, Hare,” he told him, trying to pry the plant from his needy little fingers. It was not unlike trying to pry a fly from a venus fly trap. Except this fly trap was worried about the fly and was sure that keeping it in its mouth forever was the only way to keep it safe. Just as it popped free from Hare’s desperate clasp, his arms collapsed in his chest and his knees hit the ground as he wailed:

“We shouldn’t have bought them so early in the week! Now they think I’m their ma, and they’ll miss me terribly!”

Hatter frowned, then realized that he was sort of petting one of them. “Hey, what about me?”

Hare shrugged as a tear pooled in his eye. “They’ll sort of miss you too.” Hatter turned to the fourth wall and just stared. “But every plant needs their ma!”

“Then the Rabbit can be their godmother! Their fairy-godmother! Ahhh? He’ll let you visit, I’m sure.” Hatter’s proposal wasn’t all that bad. Still, Hare was caught up in a moment and could only sniffle, so his partner gave him a heavy pat on the shoulder and walked past him. “Now, I’m gonna take these guys out for one last walk, and then we’ll head to the palace. Take a hit off the hookah, if you need.”

@ @ @

The palace courtyard was unusually quiet that day. Hatter and Hare were thinking there’d either be some sort of bash already started, or they’d have to get into an argument with the Queen about letting Rabbit have free time on his birthday. Instead, they found him kicked up on the chaise lounge, being fanned with a giant banana leaf by Alice. Totally oblivious to their presence, as he was wearing a thick cushy sleep mask and slurping up a tropical smoothie with an umbrella, Rabbit had more or less slipped into nirvana, or as close to it as an old servant would ever get. On the nearest table was a catalogue for the sleep store Alice had visited with the Tweedles, there were brand new, fuzzy wuzzy bunny slippers on the floor next to him, and even a gift basket filled with soaps, bath salts, and the most basic bitch teas Hatter had ever seen. Not that he would say anything.

But he had to say something, because poor ole Hare was still waiting for his hit off the hookah to kick in and had red eyes that could be seen from a mile away. He even forgot to stand and face their friends. Hatter grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him in the right direction.

“Rabbbitttttt!” He shouted at the bunny.

“Mmmmmmm...yyyyyesss???” Hold up a moment. The peaceful smile on the Rabbit’s face slowly fell as he realized he had heard the voice of someone he was sure in the past had never helped him achieve any sort of serenity. He snatched off the sleep mask. “Oh, hello... Hatter. Hare.” He was sort of leaning back and away from them now. Luckily, he couldn’t see that Alice was behind him, trying to hold it together.

“A little birdie told us it was your birthday today!”

“A little birdie?” Rabbit scrunched up his face, confused.

“He means me,” Alice said sweetly over his shoulder.

“Oh, but you’aaa~ not a bird!”

“Yeah, but she overhears all kinds of things, like a bird on a tree-branch!” Hatter explained, to which Alice nodded, “and that was the only way we were going to know it was your birthday, you secretive, sly, s-selectively friendly…s-senior citizen--”

“You had better get on with whatever you came here for, Hatta~...” Rabbit muttered, just as Hatter felt a tickle in his throat.

“Ahem! Yes.” He turned to Hare, who had been trying to blot a tear with the cactus blanket without anyone noticing. “Uh, Hare, why don’t you take the blanket off and show Rabbit this wondeeerfulll, spectaccuullar giftttt, ahhhh?” Hatter tried his best to sprinkle all the razzle-dazzle of two people onto the reveal, but no matter of twisting and twirling elicited much of a reaction out of Rabbit once he saw under the blanket. And he only had one thing to say.

“My, those are awfully phallic, aren’t they…”

Alice just bit her lip.

“What’s ‘phallic’?” Hatter questioned, not yet sure if he should feel validated or offended. Alice shrugged, as she didn’t know either. Rabbit immediately regretted that it had ever fallen from his mouth.

“Uhhh… Well what are they, anyway?” He diverted.

The Tweedles, meanwhile, had been oo’ing and ah’ing at all the boring af statues the Queen put up in one of her hallways, like really putting on an oscar worthy performance out of the sincerest desire for Rabbit to have some alone time with his gifts in that chair. When they were back to the courtyard with her majesty, however, they were having a really hard time keeping a straight face while a clueless Hatter and an unreasonably forlorn Hare waved around the bright green plant dicks monkey cups and pitched them like they were going to be Rabbit’s newest obsession.

All they had to do was step into Alice’s vicinity and make eye-contact with her and she was already giggling.

“So you see, Rabbit, this isn’t just some midlife-crisis window-sill filler… set these up at your table on bingo nights and you’ll have all the bunny ladies crowding around, knowing you’re up to something.”

“And what exactly am I up to?” Rabbit cocked his eyebrow, quite distracted by their striking resemblance to, well, cocks.

“Bein’ a plant daddy,” Hatter told him, smiling and nodding like he was very sure of himself, “to a hardcore plant that’ll eat all the bugs in your garden. Even frogs, too!”

“Ewwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!” Was Rabbit’s first reaction. Then he leaned forward and tapped one of the cups before the Queen belted from behind him.

“That’s BARBARIC.” Immediately, Rabbit fell right on his face on the floor beside the lounge, then had to prop himself up and heave a little when he realized she had been so close to him all along. “Why would you get Rabbit a gift like that!”

Hare had recoiled just as much as Hatter, but he looked more defeated than anything else that neither of them were impressed with his gift, especially now that they were his babies that he’d raised for a week. Once again, Hatter had to do the explaining, patting Hare’s hand, which was squeezing his arm, all the while.

“We thought he needed some excitement!”

“He has PLENTY of excitement around here!”

Rabbit darted his eyes around. He wasn’t about to disagree with her, because technically she was right, it’s just… it wasn’t the good kind of excitement. The Tweedles and Alice were feeling even surer about their gifts by now.

“Well then really, this plant can keep up with him, is all we’re saying,” Hatter told her, not even missing a beat. “Oh look, it already likes him!”

For the first time in the last five minutes, Hare had something to say: “It does?”

Hatter gave him a look. “Uhhh, of course it does, Hare. Hand it over. Wouldn’t want to keep these two parted.” Try as he may to sort of direct the pot towards the birthday bunny himself, Hare was sort of squeezing it close and didn’t know how to let go. Rabbit, meanwhile, looked completely flabbergasted as he sat there on the floor beneath those looming plant dongs. The Queen threw up her hands, which just elicited more of the Tweedles’ giggling.

“You have GOT to be kidding me!”

“Uhh, they mean well, Your Majesty!” Alice tried to step in, being the noble child among the group and all that. “I mean if you think about it… it’s just as silly as any other gift they’ve given him…”

“Hmph, you’re right… there’s no way this is a joke,” her Majesty answered back in a deep voice, with her chin tucked into her neck. Then all five of them just kept watching Hatter and Hare fuss over the pot.

“Hare, just let go! One finger at a time. Come on, now.”

“I’m trying!” Hare pouted.

“I highly doubt that!”

“You don’t know what it’s like to be a mother!”

“No, but I know what it’s like to live with one!”

“DON’T shame me for being an empath!” Hare growled through his tears, still with the cactus blanket thrown over his shoulder.

“Alright you two, listen!” Rabbit professed, just before he scurried to his feet and yanked at his vest, then patted a few fuzzballs away. “I’ll keep the plant for a few days and see how it goes, but I want He’a~ on call at all times! He obviously has a grrreener thumb than I~, but I appreciate your thinking of me on my birthdehh~, so I shall try my best. Ehh… provided her Majesty approves.”

They all slowly turned to her in suspense, looking somewhere on a spectrum between apprehensive and hopeful. And then there were the Tweedles, who were just about to whip out their popcorn bowls. The Queen squinted at them for a moment before she decided it was not her circus, not her monkeys. Well, hopefully.

“Fine. But I don’t want to hear a thing about it. Call the Hare if it gives you any trouble, and if he can’t help you, hohohhhh,” her eyes bulged as she cut her hands into the air, “it’s straight back to the nursery.”

“Of course, of course. Ehh… thank you.” Rabbit nodded to the Queen awkwardly before he turned to Hare and opened his hands to receive the plant. Hare just stared at him until Hatter leaned into him.

“Give Rabbit the plant, Hare.”

“Eheheheh! Right,” he said, his arms extending out with a tremble to relinquish his babies to his favorite frenemy. Rabbit took hold of the pot and tried not to cringe as the dongs sweeping over the side brushed his forearm. Try as he may to bring them closer to his chest, Hare came with them. He laughed and gave them a better tug, which prompted Hare to tug them back. Before everyone knew it they were bouncing back and forth. Finally, Hatter took Hare’s shoulders and held him in place, so that Rabbit could pluck the monkey cups out of his motherly smother, and inspect them with none of the same sort of affection.

“Eheheh, loveleh~ loveleh~~...” he trailed. “Well, I’d better- eh, put these somewhere. T-thank you, everyone, for the birthday wishes and gifts… You’re all too kind.”

“OH WAIT, RABBIT,” Hare screeched, wriggling out of Hatter’s grasp and pulling a baby bag out of nowhere.

“This is all of his stuff!” When Rabbit took it from him, his arm plummeted as if he had just taken a bag of bowling balls.

“Gee, thanks, I feel so prepared now~” He said through his teeth to the fourth wall. Then  he fluttered his fingers and rolled away. Hare looked at least somewhat reassured as Hatter patted him on the back and he blew his nose.

Part 2 coming soon!...

[bang-and-a-blintz]

Through the Darkness

CHAPTER SIX - ROSEMARY GRITS

Fandom: Dracula (2020)  

Relationship: Dracula/Roxana(OFC)  

Rating: Mature  

Warnings: None  

Word Count: 4,475

Cafe Rose Nicaud had a moderate crowd for the afternoon rush. This allowed Dracula and Roxana to squeeze into a small booth in the far corner without having to wait. It was a cozy spot; the dark walls were lined with brightly painted caricatures of revered local musicians and the glass in the windows was covered with a colored film that reflected purple, green, and gold across the tables. Kermit Ruffin's trumpet cooed and floated casually out from the speakers in the ceiling.

A waitress shuffled over to drop off some menus and waters, when she smiled her cheeks were dotted and rosy and half her teeth were missing. Roxana thanked the woman and took a swig from the ice-cold glass. The midday sun heated the city quite nicely, making her light jacket feel a little too warm, so she shrugged it off and folded it up next to her. Dracula, on the other hand, and despite his all-black three-piece-suit, looked as cool as a cucumber as he lazily put his sunglasses into his breast pocket and picked up the menu.

The image struck her as strangely normal, too normal, to see Dracula sitting across from her at a small cafe tapping his claws against the tabletop and glancing over the menu with an almost bored look. Roxana used the opportunity to properly inspect him in the daylight. She couldn't deny that the man was attractive. His thick black mane was only slightly mussed from the walk, but otherwise impeccably maintained. He had such a distinguished facial structure that she couldn't help but to be in slight awe; from the serious, Slavic brow to the prominently defined cheekbones; he was every bit a good-looking villainous trope. She took particular notice of his full lips; what a soft and pillowy barrier between his vicious teeth and any poor soul that got too close.

By the way his brows knitted together as he read the menu, she gathered he was unfamiliar with the world of modern cuisine. It made it her wonder if he knew anything about human food at all.

"Do you even eat food?" Roxana asked curiously.

Dracula shook his head, "No, but I do find it intriguing how much stock you all put into food here. It's as if you really care about what you consume. I like that."

"Because food is lives. A single plate can tell the stories of the past or create visions for the future; it can soothe your soul, shed your tears, and inspire your senses. It allows us to survive but can just as well be a cause of death." She took another sip of water before continuing. "I believe that flavor is the essence of life and it is blasphemy to claim otherwise."

He stared at her for a moment with what almost looked like fondness. "I completely agree."

"It's a shame though."

"What's that?"

"Well, that you missed out on such a wonderful dish last night," Roxana's lips curved as he cocked his head, "I had really put in the effort and for that chateaubriand to be wasted on you is just tragic."

"To be perfectly honest, I had been thinking about a different kind of meal you could've offered." Dracula grinned, leaning closer across the table, "You know, it's bad for business, not providing for your client's needs and wants. That is something we shall have to work on."

She swallowed thickly, he was a bit too close and she could see nothing but the black hole of his gaze. His eyes were truly mesmerizing and she was afraid of getting lost inside that intimidating stare. Luckily for her, at that moment the waitress came back to take the order, Roxana was grateful for the distraction and spoke up first, "I'll take the rose benedict with some gator sausage and a house bloody, please cher."

"Not a problem, babe, and what about you, handsome?"

"I'm just here for the lady." He smiled boyishly. "But I wouldn't mind trying a tall glass of yourself."

She gave a shriek of laughter and pointed a crooked finger at him before collecting the menus back up, "Oh you're nothing but trouble. Alright, baby, that'll be right up, just holla if you need anything." She walked back towards the kitchen shaking her head. "Ohh, he's bad!"

"If she only knew," Roxana muttered.

He turned to smile at her, "That word you said, 'cher', what does that mean? You called me it earlier as well."

His question was innocent but it turned her cheeks a cherry red that Dracula found very enjoyable.

"Oh it's just a, um, a term of endearment." She spoke quickly as if the more words she managed to squeeze in would save her from embarrassment. "But don't think on it, honestly, it's just habit. Memaw used to say it, along with her cribbage friends, and my old cooking instructor…It comes from 'cherie', the french word for 'dearest' or whatever."

She didn't appreciate how pleased he looked and he most definitely was. It was the little things, he mused silently, that made her squirm and fluster. Another piece to the puzzle he was starting to put together.

"You seem to be warming up to me quite quickly."

"Ever heard of 'Southern Hospitality'? Calling people babe or cher or honey is habitual because we have a friendly culture, nothing more, so don't get your hopes up, sweetie."

"I understand the social pleasantries, but that is beside the point." Dracula looked pointedly at their proximity in the booth. He was right, and she knew it, because who else in their right mind would willingly sit down and have brunch with an undead vampire warlord from the fourteenth century? Maybe she was crazy.

"Look, I don't know how to…be about everything. Seeing as this situation is a little bit out of my realm, I'm just going to be cautious and courteous lest I become a snack."

"I told you," The vampire huffed, "I'm not going to kill you yet. And besides, I wouldn't have you as a snack, no, my dear, you would be a full-on, fine-dining, four-course meal and I intend to make you last."

Her face deadpanned.

"Here you go, baby." The waitress chose the most opportune moment to arrive with the bloody mary. A godsend, truly. "I gave you an extra piece of bacon, sugar, in case y'all wanted to share."

With a not-very-subtle wink towards Dracula, she hobbled away again. Roxana rolled her eyes and immediately started gulping down half the beverage before munching the first sweetened slice of pig. "She's really laying it on thick, huh?"

"I can't help it that I'm irresistible."

"Oh I'm not so sure of that," She popped a pepper into her mouth. "I've been in your company for less than twenty-four hours and I can already tell you are insufferable."

"Roxana!" Dracula mocked gasped and placed his hand over his non-beating heart, garnering some attention from the nearby patrons, "You wound me."

"You'll survive, I'm sure." She polished off the rest of the drink and smiled widely at the noisy tourists. They immediately looked back down at their plates; the key was to always kill them with kindness. "Anyway, if you're finished with being a drama queen, please tell me more about this council and dinner and all that. We've been getting slightly off track."

The Count sighed and raked a hand through his hair, completely oblivious to the exchange, "Basically there is a peace treaty being put into place because apparently things are getting out of hand for the city. The mortals want accountability and the council is trying to solidify an agreement. And as far the dinner goes, I imagine there are going to be a few more people from Mr. Kendell's committee as well as the heads of Keres' council. We will all wine and dine, figuratively for the supernaturals, of course, we'll sign some papers and all the political nonsense, all while you graciously host us."

"And then it'll be over? I won't have to deal with any of this after that?"

"Are you already tiring of my company?" Dracula's brow crinkled upwards and made him akin to a large puppy dog, but she was not fooled. Without letting her answer, he heaved a sigh and continued. "Well, I'd imagine that afterward, at a later date, there will be a ball. Seeing as it should be around the time Mardi Gras starts to pick up, I believe it will be a grand affair. You will be invited, no doubt, Keres is nothing if not socially polite."

"Yeah, sure, that sounds safe." She was being sarcastic, but her interest piqued considerably. A gala for a supernatural and mortal peace treaty during Mardi Gras? Roxana would be lying if she said that wasn't the coolest thing she had ever heard of. Call it some sort of morbid fascination that seemed to be interred in her bones because she always did have an affinity towards dark and strange things.

"I'll admit, Keres can be a bit uptight and a tad pretentious, but let me tell you, that woman really knows how to throw a party!"

"What's the deal with you two anyway, y'all an item or something?"

"Why, are you jealous?" He smirked as she went to protest but cut her off with a lazy wave of his hand, "No, no, no, she is definitely not one of my brides."

That stopped Roxana in her tracks and she stared at him incredulously, "I'm sorry, did you say brides? Plural?"

"Yes." Dracula's brows rose innocently. "I never have more than three at a time."

"What the fu-?" She was cut off by a steaming plate placed in front of her face. The smell wafted up to her nose and she deeply inhaled the tantalizing scent, momentarily distracted from the beast across from her.

"Anything else, hun?" Where the waitress stood, Roxana could only see an angel sent down from the heavens.

"Another bloody and make it a double, please."

The woman nodded knowingly and was off again.

Roxana took a moment to stare at the beautiful dish and appreciate its display. The rose benedict was one of her favorite brunch items; the succulently poached egg perched on top of a fluffy and flaky biscuit baked to perfection, layered with fresh arugula, sliced tomatoes and avocados, a juicy alligator sausage link, and the homemade hollandaise sauce that was magnificent. It was all placed neatly over a bed of the cafe's famous rosemary grits.

Simply divine.

Dracula watched with intent as Roxana delicately used her knife to break open one of the eggs and the yolk oozed out over the side of the dish. With precise hands, she cut a piece that contained a little bit of everything and brought the fork to her mouth. As she bit down and closed her eyes, she let out a little moan that should not have affected him the way it did. He began to salivate as his eyes focused on how her tongue dipped out to lick the little bit left on the corner of her lip and they slowly drew downward towards her neck, where he could hear her heartbeat thump solidly beneath her flesh.

The cheery waitress came back with Roxana's drink; she thanked the older woman and took a large swig, her eyes closed briefly in happiness at how strongly poured the beverage was. Thank the gods for vodka, she thought gratefully and then brought her focus back to Dracula. "So are you saying you have three brides right now? That sounds exhausting. Honestly how could you have time to follow me around all day?"

"No, no, I'm currently in the market." He leaned close and spoke conspiratorially, "It's really not all that difficult, you see, they're fairly easy to control once put in their boxes."

"You're horrible."

"I'm joking," Dracula reclined back in his seat and laughed, "Haven't done that in a few hundred years. No, nowadays it's a bit more complex, isn't it?"

"Relationships?"

"If you want to call them that, sure." He said, watching her for a moment as she cut into the second egg with the same precision as the first. "I've had some difficulties acquiring the right bride."

"Maybe if you practiced a little respect and some monogamy, you might have more success." Roxana took a sip of water and then made a facial shrug, "Or if they're into polygamy, then that's fine. It's not my bag but to each their own. Though I will say, the whole box thing is really fucked up and you've definitely got to cut that shit out."

He found her candor endearing. "It is an attempt I'm making."

"Is that why you wasted the day stalking me?"

"I have an eternity. One day is insignificant and therefore cannot be wasted." As he spoke, one of his large hands waved about and emphasized his speech. "Besides I wasn't stalking, you passed by my window near the square and I had nothing better to do."

"You followed me all the way from there?!" The Count just shrugged and folded his hands together in his lap. She rolled her eyes, "You need to find yourself a hobby."

Roxana ate the last bite of her meal before polishing off the rest of her drink and set the empty glass down with a satisfied sigh. Her stomach was full and her head was beginning to enter the realm of that familiar warmth that only accompanied good liquor.

Again with impeccable service, the waitress swung by again to pick up the dirty dishes and asked if anything else was needed. Roxana ordered another double bloody to-go and the check. She then excused herself to go to the bathroom and Dracula sat back to observe his surroundings. Idle chatter and clinking utensils on plates filled filling the cafe, but the vampire could hear nothing more than a symphony of heartbeats all thumping in a wild orchestrated sonata. He was getting very hungry.

The Count took a deep breath and reminded himself to be patient. All good things come with time. His companion returned at the same time as the waitress and when Roxana grabbed the check, she noticed that Dracula had latched his claws onto the other side. "I'll take care of that."

"Oh no, you won't!"

He smirked as her eyes narrowed, "Oh yes, I will."

"You didn't even eat."

"And?"

"I pay my own way."

"I insist."

They both had leaned closer and closer, not willing to break eye-contact nor their vice grips on the bill. Dracula was incredibly amused. Roxana was not. The waitress's head bounced back and forth along with their verbal tennis match.

"I will make a scene." She all but growled, eyes narrowing.

"Please," He matched her tone, "I would love to see that."

A pause.

"Damn girl, just take the free meal!" The waitress decided to take the opportunity to cut in, "Give him a little lagniappe later, ya heard me? If you don't, well, sign me up, baby."

Needless to say, Roxana was not happy when she walked out of the cafe and stormed down the street. Dracula followed, looking as smug as ever with his hands in his pockets and a little grin on his face.

After a few blocks and a few more swigs from her cup, she finally let go of her pride and slowed to walk alongside him once more. The sun had begun to set, sending its red and orange hues across the city to cut in between streets and through windows. She loved this time of day. The refraction of the sun created a heady glow that felt like a soothing hug to one's soul.

"Where are we off to next?" Dracula looked down at her, noticing her shoulders weren't as rigid as they were when they left the restaurant.

"A nice lady in the bathroom told me about some little show down by the river, thought that sounded lovely."

He made a face, "Modern toilet etiquette is baffling."

"We were just washing our hands," Roxana laughed at the count's confused expression. "Though you're not wrong. A lot more goes on in bathrooms than just 'using the loo.'"

She mimicked his acquired accent and he was thrilled to see her back to her cheerful self. Until her eyes lit up with a curiosity that he was beginning to recognize and he could already tell where her mind was heading.

"Wait, do you -?"

"No."

"But I didn't-"

"No."

"Could you let me-?"

"No." He said, chuckling as she huffed in frustration. "I know what you're going to ask and the answer is no. I have no use for a toilet. Good thing too, apparently, because according to you, there are plenty of strange things that happen in those receptacles that I have no wish of engaging in."

"Eh, it's mostly people doing drugs. You're not missing much." They turned the corner, she brushed away some hair that blew in her face and took another sip. "Unless you're into drugs?"

Dracula grimaced, "Not particularly. It depends on the drug."

"How about alcohol?" She looked up at him and he shook his head no. "So why did you choose New Orleans? You do realize this is a party city, right?"

"Because I see that there is more to this city than what meets the eye." He spread his hands out wide, "Look around! New Orleans is a delicious cocktail of artists and scholars, fighters and doctors, saints and sinners - it is a plentiful orchard of every imaginable fruit and I would be remiss not to pluck the ripened morsels. The culture here promotes hedonism and I am simply embracing it."

He watched as she paused and looked thoughtfully a bush of jasmine flowers. There were hundreds of them lining the block and wafting around their fragrant aroma. She bent down to pluck a group of three and then turned towards him, walking up close, and tucking them gently in his breast pocket.

"What's this for?"

"Something sweet-smelling," She continued forward, "You're starting to stink up the neighborhood with your evil."

"It was a compliment of the highest form - I've actually become quite fond of this city!"

"Yeah? So stop eating its people!" Roxana called over her shoulder. Dracula laughed in disbelief; she definitely would be an interesting flavor and he was very eager to try.

Catching up to her quickly, they made their way across the quarter and over to the river. By the time they arrived, the night sky had crept in, chasing away the rest of daylight. A small crowd had gathered over by the steps along the riverbank and in the center were a couple of musicians with their small amplifiers; the band was jamming and the crowd was dancing away. The music was a bit too uptempo for Roxana's taste but she could appreciate that everyone was having a good time.

"Is this your style of music?" He asked as they sat down next to each other on a bench overlooking the impromptu show. She noticed how close he sat and how he positioned his body angled towards her with his arm draped behind her. Knowing he was going towards being incredibly invasive and unnerving, she was not about to admit defeat and refused to scoot back.

"No, I'm more of a blues or tragic rock 'n roll kind of gal. The sadder the better, I say."

"But you seem so…happy."

"Yeah, well, you seem like a gentleman, but we both know what you're really after here." She gave him a pointed look. "All of us wear masks, Mr. Balaur."

"Fair enough."

They sat for a while and watched the impromptu set until the sky grew darker and the city lights flickered awake. The heat of the sun disappeared along with it and brought in the chilly air once more. A swift reminder to Roxana that she only brought a thin coat. She chugged down the remainder of her drink, in hopes of creating some sort of liquor blanket, and pulled her jacket closer.

"As surprisingly nice this evening turned out to be, I need to get home. So I'm going to head out." She stood up and turned towards him.

"Would you like a ride?"

"No!" She said a little too loudly and then cleared her throat, blushing. "I mean, no that's fine, I'm just going take the streetcar."

"Nonsense, I can drive you, my car is close by."

"Seriously, I'm fine. Thank you, though."

"I'll accompany you to the streetcar then - and I won't take no for answer."

Roxana knew better than to even try and just spun on her heel, walking away and knowing that he would shortly keep up. They weaved back through the maze of the quarter towards the hub on Canal Street and maintained their amiable silence. Dracula kept a few steps distance from her and easily clung to the shadows. She thought it was strange, but made no comment. Must be his nature.

A few blocks from the bright and bustling main street, they were the only people walking around as they passed by a dimly lit parking garage. Where an attendant usually sat was only an empty booth and a single flickering light.

There was a flash of steel and suddenly a man appeared out from around the other side of the booth. He was wielding a knife. The guy pointed it at Roxana, not seeing Dracula in the darkness, and he gave her a grin that sent chills down her spine.

"Hey there, doll. Why don't we make this nice and easy?" His voice sounded like a kazoo made out of sandpaper; wheezy and scratchy and a tad too high-pitched.

Normally, this would be the moment she would grab her mace, spray, and run; but then she remembered the five-hundred-year-old genocidal bloodsucker creeping unseen behind this lunatic. Better the devil you know and all that.

"Hello."

The man jumped and pointed his weapon as Dracula materialized out of the shadows. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"Wallachia."

"Bless you." Roxana couldn't stop the words from leaving her mouth and when he gave her an incredulous look, she just put a hand up in apology.

"Shut up, both of you, and give me what you've got." He waved the blade back and forth between the pair them. "Or I'll slice y'all right up!"

Dracula and Roxana exchanged looks. He took a deep breath and stepped towards the man. "Let's make a deal, hm? I'll give you what you want, if you give me what I want?"

"What? You crazy, old man?"

"No, no, not crazy, just a businessman." He smirked, "What do they say? Quid pro quo?"

"Well whatchu want then?"

"It's very simple, actually, I just need you to say 'yes'."

The man looked bewildered and faltered his grip a bit on the knife, "Why the fuck-?"

"Have you been drinking? On any drugs?"

"What're you a cop?

"No. I just don't like the taste." The count gave him a look and the man slowly shook his head. Compelled almost. "Good, now, back to business."

Dracula took another step closer and pulled out a rolled-up wad of money, raising his eyebrows and wagging it in the air. The guy gulped audibly, not able to take his eyes off of the prize cash.

"What…what did you want again?"

The vampire lowered his voice, "Just say 'yes'."

"…Yes?"

The tension was thick. Dracula smirked as he glanced over to see Roxana staring at them, her wide eyes with rapt attention. Oh he hoped she would enjoy the show. "That's good enough for me."

Frozen in horror, she watched as his eyes filled with a dark red, and his teeth extended to frightening lengths. He launched at the man with the knife and slapped the blade away, gripping the mortal effortlessly and latching his jaw around the tender neck. Sounds of hissing and slurping and growling battled the poor guy's cries of terror which bounced and echoed across the buildings.

She wasn't sure she could move even if she tried. Roxana just stood there and dumbly stared as Dracula drank his fill. After a few moments, she didn't know because time appeared to stand still, he looked to be finally sated. The count detached himself by brutally ripping out part of the muscle in the man's neck, making a show of spitting it across the sidewalk, and then tossed the body to the side like a useless rag doll. Even in the dark of the night, she could still see the smear of blood across his mouth and the pointy white teeth from his devilish grin.

He put the wad of money back in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at his cheek, acting as if nothing ever happened. Noting her shock, he just rose a single brow, "What?"

"What?" She mumbled and then shook her head roughly, snapping herself out of the daze. "What?! What do you mean? The fuck was that?!"

"He said yes. Verbal consent."

"You have no concept of what consent actually is."

"Oh come on, he was going to stab you, I saved your life." He stepped towards her and she could clearly see the blood now, it even tainted his teeth. She could smell it.

"You're a monster."

Dracula took another step into her personal space. "That's a terrible way to show gratitude."

The image began to repeat in her mind of his teeth tearing so viciously into the flesh and the blood dripping from the count's chin as he rolled his eyes back in ecstasy. Over and over and over again.

He noticed she had paled significantly and got a glazed look in her eyes, "Are you alright? You're not looking so well."

She felt it churn in her stomach and claw up her throat, and without any attempt to stop the inevitable, Roxana promptly vomited all over Count Dracula's fancy suit.

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