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sundaysundaes · 4 years

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Craving

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

Summary: Dating a brat is exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire is even more exhausting so you wonder, why did I even agree to this?

It’s a continuation of Love Bites but can be read separately because it’s really just 12k long of vampire porn with no real plot.

Warnings: Vampire sex, bondage, oral sex (69), overstimulation, unprotected sex, fingering, implied public sex, a little bit of dom!hyuck and a little bit of exhibitionist!hyuck, blood sucking (plenty of that)

Not once in your life did you ever imagine yourself dating a vampire. And certainly, never thought about living together with that so-called vampire boyfriend of yours. You never know what to expect from a situation like this but maybe it’s better not to think too much about it anyway since Lee Donghyuck always manages to exceed your expectation.

Before you became his personal midnight snack, Donghyuck had to search for his own food which either meant he had to buy blood bags from the cheapest hospital around or pick up girls with low self-esteems downtown to have kinky and messy—like really messy, blood everywhere, you don’t want to imagine—one night stands with them to fulfill both his needs for blood and sex. He often complained about it, grumbling with his lips turning into this adorable pout as he told you how he wasn’t fond of his way of life or the effort he had to make just to survive.

So now that he has you as his personal walking blood bag, Donghyuck is having the time of his life and he’s enjoying every minute of it. He’s one hundred percent happy all the time that it annoys the heck out of you. It’s not that you don’t want him to be happy—of course, you want your boyfriend to be happy—but happy Donghyuck means he’s gonna get all clingy and playful, and him being clingy and playful means hell.

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I’m trying to do my laundry.”

“I’m aware.”

“So, can you get off of me for a second, please?”

“For a second? Sure.” He untangles himself away from you but only for a second, literally. “Second’s up!” The way he giggles is almost like a child, circling his arms along your waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck again, nuzzling up to you while chanting, “Cute, cute, cute, you’re so cute. The cutest girl in the whole universe!”

Donghyuck is clingy as fuck. He can’t go through the whole ten minutes without, at least, ruffling your hair, poking your cheek, or pinching the bridge of your nose. You’ve known for a while that he’s fond of skinship more than anyone you’ve ever met and it was bearable before since he only did it when he was flirting with you. But ever since you’ve become official, he just literally couldn’t get his hands off you.

So, how on earth would you get any of your work done?

The second the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck will come out of his room with the biggest smile on his face and his arms spread wide, “Baby, I’m awake! Come here and get your daily dose of Hyuck’s loving!” And if you don’t respond to him in the way he wants to—which is by embracing him and kissing him for a good half an hour or so—he will make sure you won’t be able to pay attention to anything else but him for the rest of the evening.

He follows you around like a puppy, humming the same Michael Jackson’s song over and over again as he waits for you to finish washing the dishes, his feet tapping against the floor to match the beats in his head.

“Don’t you have something else to do besides waiting for me?” You ask, scrubbing the rest of the barbecue sauce off your plate.

“I do have something to do.” And he suddenly pops up behind you, blowing air to your ear. “You.”

And you raise your silver spoon in the air, forcing him to run to the other side of the room, whining, “Baby, that’s not fair!”

Whenever you’re busy reading a book, Donghyuck will snuggle close and insist for you to sit on his lap. You’re not complaining in the slightest because it does feel nice and he rarely does anything weird since he also enjoys spending his time watching tv with his chin placed on the top of your head and his arms circled idly around your waist. It’s you who tends to get distracted with the way his chest is pressing against your spine, his laugh reverberating straight to your skin whenever something funny is playing on the screen. And when you get distracted, your heart races, and when he hears your heartbeat increasing, he chuckles lowly, leaning in to nibble at your earlobe while whispering, “If you’re horny, you can just tell me, baby.”

And you smack him in the head with your book.

Today is a bit different. Today, you have dedicated yourself to switch your role and be the one who teases the hell out of him instead. But since he’s too sly, always a step ahead of you whenever you make a plan to humiliate him, there’s only one way you can win this game: ignoring him.

So that’s what you intend to do. When the night takes over and Donghyuck comes out from his room with a bird’s nest on his head and a cheeky grin on his face, saying, “Baby, I’m awake and I’m ready to hear how much you’ve missed me during the day,” you just sit there on the couch, flipping another page of your novel. “Hey, Hyuck,” you simply greet him.

“Hey, Hyuck?” He repeats, appalled and disgusted with the way you said it. “What kind of treatment is that? Is it that time of the month already?” He takes a whiff of the air. “No, it’s not. I can smell it.”

“For the sake of our relationship, please refrain yourself from smelling my scent to know my menstruation cycle in the future, thank you.”

“How? You want me to stop breathing?” He laughs to himself. “Just kidding. You know I don’t breathe.”

You want to roll your eyes and bury your face in your hands—ashamed of the things he said—but you realize that you have to play it cool and give him the cold shoulder.

Placing hands on his hips, he questions with a huff, “So I’m not getting any hug around here?”

“I’ll be with you in a moment.”

You move away from the living room, doing literally anything else but giving him what he asks for. Donghyuck sighs and follows you too, as expected, leaning his back against the kitchen counter as he waits for you to finish making yourself a cup of coffee.

“Did I do something that upset you?” He asks, scratching his cheek.

“No, of course not.” You smile, giving him a squeeze on his arm. But then you walk away, leaving him confused and bitter.

Ignoring him is both fun and hilarious because you can see him stealing glances at you even when he tries to act cool about it. He tries to distract himself by playing video games but he keeps on losing so he presses his fingers a little too hard to the controller, nearly breaking it in half.

“Careful,” you warn. “I borrowed that thing.”

“Whatever.” He throws the controller away, scoffing. “It’s stupid anyway.”

To know that his happy self can be reduced to this grumbling mess just because you’re ignoring him makes you feel elated and you wonder, am I a sadist for enjoying this so much?

Hours have passed and you still won’t give in to him, which is really something because he’s doing things that almost make you crawl back to his lap. Donghyuck knows how hot he is, knows how his eyebrow raise and half-lidded eyes do wonders to your heart and mind. So it’s not a surprise when he walks out of the bathroom with his wet hair pushed back, showcasing his temple and his perfect eyebrows. Droplets of water are sliding down from his bare chest to his v-lines, with his white towel hanging dangerously low on his hips. He doesn’t head back to his room right away, and instead, takes a seat on the coffee table, right in front of you.

“Babe.”

You promise yourself inwardly that you will not take a fucking glance at him when he’s like this. “Hmm?”

“I know you’re trying your best to ignore me but your heart is beating like crazy.” He’s raising his eyebrow. You know it. You’re not seeing it but you know it. “Isn’t it time for you to give up your stupid little prank and make-out with me already?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, you open your MacBook, busying yourself with typing words on your keyboards.

Donghyuck walks over—still in his fucking towel and nothing more, for God’s sake—and leans closer from behind the couch. He looks over your shoulder as you browse the internet to find something to distract your thoughts. He snorts loudly when he sees the article you’re reading.

“Chalamet?” He jeers. “Who’s Timothee Chalamet? What kind of name is Timothee Chalamet?”

“He’s an Oscar nominee and he’s barely twenty-five. He’s cute.”

“So? I’m cuter than Timothee Chalamet. Way more beautiful too. Just FYI, they invented the term ‘beautiful’ to describe me actually. Happened a long time ago. It’s a fact.”

“That’s great,” you blankly respond, typing another name of a celebrity on the search bar. “I know there’s another term they invented for you.”

“What, ethereal?”

“Cocky-Ass Bitch.”

He gasps and he’s not even breathing.

And when you keep denying his protest, he pushes your MacBook away from your lap and tackles you down to the couch.

“I can’t believe you’re looking at some other dude when you have me paying you full attention,” he says, wetting his lower lip as he peers into your eyes, his body hovering dangerously close above yours. His eyes are gleaming with both desire and affection which still makes the knot in your stomach tighten to this day but you’re a tad better at controlling your expression this time. A droplet of water drops from the tip of his hair to your cheek.

Wiping it off with a slide of your thumb, you comment, “You’re wet.”

“So are you, ever since you’ve met me.” He winces at his words when a few seconds pass by in silence. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

You tap his cheek. “As long as you’ve learned your lesson.”

He pouts as he heads back to the main topic. “Your prank is going too far, Sweetheart.”

“What prank? I don’t do pranks, Hyuck. I’m not you.”

“So, why have you been ignoring me then?”

“Is it really that weird for me to just have some time for myself?”

“Well—I—” It’s the first time he ever seems lost for words. “I just—”

“What, are you thirsty?” You flatly ask, telling yourself to not let your eyes wander to the muscles in his arms and stomach. “Don’t tell me you want to drink again. It’s only been a day, Hyuck.”

“It’s not that!” He whines, pouting with his eyebrows knitting in a frown. “Can’t I snuggle with my girlfriend?”

“That’s literally what you’ve been doing all this time.”

“Yes, but you haven’t been focusing on me properly!” He sighs loudly, letting you go, and throws himself down on the other end of the couch with a loud huff. “You know what, I think we really should talk about this.”

“Talk about what?”

“About how you’re not really cute these days!” He blurts out, hands moving animatedly as he speaks. “You used to be all fidgety and shy, blushing all the time whenever you see me—”

“In your head, maybe. I don’t recall ever doing that.”

“See, this!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “This is what I’m talking about. You’re mean to me now! Not cute at all!”

“Is this our first fight?” You ask, yawning a little which makes your boyfriend gapes in disbelief. “Are we really fighting over the fact I’m not cute anymore? Seriously?” But when he becomes more upset, you break out in a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” Still laying down on the couch, you tug at his hand. “Come here.”

He crosses his arms on his chest. “No.”

“You don’t want your daily dose of my sweet, sweet loving?”

He shakes his head, his lower lip protruding. “Why should I be the one who needs to crawl over to you? This is your fault. You come here.”

You exhale loudly but on the inside, you can’t help but squeal he’s so fucking cute.

You’re not usually aggressive during make-out sessions—well, at least not with Donghyuck anyway. With Mark, you had to take a lead or else you’d just end up watching TV until you both pass out on the couch. But you decide to step up your game today because just as much as he likes to tease you, you also like to tease him.

“Fine,” you say, crawling over to the other side of the couch and settle yourself on his lap. You lay your hand on his shoulders, massaging the tense muscles. “Better?”

Donghyuck is still glowering at you in response so you decide to take a step further. “You look so hot without your clothes on,” you praise him, thanking God that your voice doesn’t stutter. Your fingertips draw a line from his Adam’s apple down to his chest. “But I guess you already know that seeing how many times you’re doing this on purpose.”

He scoffs, swatting your hand away before he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t touch me. I’m still pissed at you.”

You chuckle. “Ah, so no Hyuck’s loving for me tonight?”

“No Hyuck’s loving for the whole week.”

“You sure about that?” Toying with the buttons of your shirt, you wiggle your eyebrows seductively at him.

He hears the sound of your button being popped open but gives his best effort to keep his eyes away. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing myself.”

“Why?”

“Because my cute vampire boyfriend is upset,” you pause to stand on your knees, tugging the rest of your shirt out from your skirt before you discard it to the floor. “And I know this would please him.”

He instinctively turns to you, his nose almost grazing your bare stomach before he quickly looks away again, albeit tempted to suck bruises on the supple skin. Donghyuck’s eyes move to stare at the ceiling, gulping at the sound of you pulling down the zipper on your skirt to loosen the fabric before you push it up to your hips, giving him the chance to stare at your thighs when he wants.

“Hyuck,” you move your hips slightly, giving him enough friction to entice his mind. “Baby.”

Donghyuck tries his very best to avert his gaze to anything else besides the part that connects you to him. “No,” he repeats, clenching his jaw.

“But Hyuck…” You realize you’re practically moaning his name now and it’s both embarrassing and exciting that you can play the role of a seductress and having that kind of effect on him. Hooking a finger around your bra strap, you pull it down, exposing the joints between your neck and your shoulder. “Don’t you want me?”

He suddenly whines loudly, throwing his head back with his teeth gritting against one another as he murmurs “You’re unbelievable,” bitterly into the air but you can hear his confidence wavering. It only takes another grind of your hips against him before he snaps.

You’re suddenly thrown back to his bed before you know it. He was moving too fast for your eyes to process that you could only felt being carried for a split second before you have your back pressed against the sheets.

He’s hovering on top of you, your hips trapped between his knees. “You do realize,” he begins, “That I never just look at you as an object of sexual desire, right? You’re more than that to me.” He bends down, one hand curling against the front of your neck, his thumb tracing your beating vein. “Way, way more than that.”

His sincerity and serious demeanor catch you off guard. “Yeah, also as someone to fill your midnight cravings.”

“Of course not—”

“I’m kidding, I know.” Your playful gaze is replaced with a tender one. “But you always react like this whenever I tempt you that way so I couldn’t help but tease.”

He scrunches up his nose. “You’re not cute.” But the way he slots his mouth against yours speak nothing but praise and adoration. “You’re not cute at all.”

Surprisingly, Donghyuck is gentler after your first sexual encounter with him. Maybe it’s because he feels sorry for sucking too much blood and went a little rough when it was your first time on everything. You always try to convince him that it’s fine and it doesn’t hurt at all during the time you have sex with him—because the chemicals in his saliva triggered an endorphin rush, pumping pleasure all over your body—but seeing how you could barely walk on the next morning, Donghyuck decides to restrain himself.

You still remember the second time he decided to take a step further, about two weeks after your first intimate session with him. Donghyuck was at his very best behavior that night—making you dinner, listening to you complaining about your work, and swaying his body with you to the soft music he played in the background. Being in such close proximity, you couldn’t help but wonder why he never laid a hand on you again. He did drink from you, once every two days, but he always acted so rigid, so jittery when he held you to his chest, drinking from the side of your neck. You were awkward too, not sure how to place your hands or say something to break the tension. You could hear him swallowing, once, twice, taking a big gulp each time and you could feel yourself drowning in refined pleasure, losing track of the world from his bite.

Speaking of that, you notice one thing. This endorphin rush you feel every time he sinks his teeth into your skin also affects your sexual desire. You didn’t realize that before because you were having sex the first time he bit you. You finally understand why those slutty girls he brought home loved having their blood sucked by vampires. Sex with a vampire itself is transcendent, so having your blood sucked during sex? A dangerous, erotic, and lovely bliss.

But Donghyuck never touched you that way, that was the problem. Every time he finished drinking, he’d retract his fangs back, making you whimper at the loss of his effects on you and leaving you dizzy with blood loss. He’d wipe his mouth clean, tilt your face to check on your condition—which you always responded with a goofy smile as you reeled on the lingering sensation of his bite—and say, “I’m sorry that you had to do this for me. I’ll carry you back to your room. Hold on to me.” And you’d allow him to do just that, secretly hoping that he would join you in bed but he never did.

Was the sex not good? Were you too loud? Too whiny? Too docile? Were you too shy? Does he prefer his partner to take control in bed? Be more aggressive? These questions ran back-and-forth in your mind to the point that you began to have trouble sleeping.

So when two weeks had passed after that bathroom incident and nothing happened, you decided to bring the matter down to the table. You were craving for his touch, even more so when he looked so fucking good with his hair slightly pushed back, his shirt doing nothing at hiding the muscles in his arms, his face hovering just a few inches away from yours as he led you close in a slow dance. You just needed to ask before you went crazy.

“Why won’t you touch me?”

Donghyuck blinked. “What?”

“Why won’t you touch me?” You repeated, heat rising to your cheeks. “After that night in the bathroom, you never… made a move on me.”

That question should’ve triggered something sinful coming from his mouth, probably like, “Oh, so you want me to touch you? Enlighten me, Sweetheart, just how much do you want me? Where do you exactly want me to touch you?”

But Donghyuck actually just stood in silence with conflicted eyes. You had to call his name to force him to speak. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t hurt me—”

“No, you don’t understand.” He cupped the side of your face, thumb rubbing soothingly against your cheekbone. “Drinking your blood already makes me want to do crazy things to you. You’re so alluring, so…” He wetted his lip, his eyes going down to take in the shape of your mouth. “Intoxicating.” He moved his thumb to trace the smoothness of your lips. “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to control myself when we take a step further than this. I don’t want to hurt you again like I did the first time.”

It’s funny how he mentioned the word intoxicating because that was how exactly you perceived him. His whole being was intoxicating, turning every sound in the room into a whisper, every bit of your surroundings into a blur. The world did not matter when you were with him, as it solely revolved around him.

So you yanked him down by the collar of his shirt, slotted your mouth against his, lips parting to taste a hint of the coppery flavor of your blood on his tongue. Donghyuck instinctively reacted by enclosing his arms along your waist, pulling you close until you breathed heavily against his mouth. He was a man of passion, burning like the sun, lips scorching as he met yours in a searing kiss.

He tried to break away, holding your wrist in the air. “Wait, stop—”

“I have an idea,” you immediately said, kissing him once again just because you couldn’t hold yourself away from the temptation. “I have an idea we can try, so—” Another kiss, but he was the one who initiated it this time. He pushed you against the wall, gentle but dominating, his knee slipping between your legs, pushing up the fabric of your dress. You moaned against his mouth, fingers fisting against his shirt, desperate for support. He slid both hands down your thighs, silky smooth against your skin, and lifted your legs in the air, forcing you to tangle them around his waist to maintain stability.

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, reeling in the way he peppered kisses from your jawline down to your neck, tongue lapping at a speck of dry blood on your marked skin. “Let’s go—ah—let’s go to your room—Hyuck—”

He was busy having his hand under your shirt, splaying his fingers on your stomach before they found their way up to your breast, but he heard your order. He carried you back to his room, lips never leaving yours and you found yourself pressed against the sheet the next time you blinked your eyes.

“Those handcuffs,” you gasped out between his smothering kisses. “Those handcuffs of yours that you keep in your closet. Use them.”

Donghyuck abruptly stopped, tugged himself away. “What?”

You were breathless and lightheaded, chest heaving up and down. “It upsets me to say this,” you confessed, “But I remember that time when we haven’t started dating, I found a pair of handcuffs in your closet and—”

“You went into my closet?”

“To clean your stuff. You had your clothes scattered all over the place so I had to fold them up and when I was about to put them back in, I saw them. I thought it was probably one of your kinks so I just shrugged it off. You honestly didn’t realize how clean and organized your closet was that day?”

“Well, I was never messy to begin with.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

He pouted, sighing. “Right, so you knew about my bondage kink. You’re telling me you want us to use it?” He gave you a look. “You had sex one time and you’ve already found yourself a kink? Seems like I underestimated your sexual curiosity, woman.”

“It’s not that.” You rolled your eyes. All of this rambling did not fuel your arousal, at all. “I want you to wear it.”

Donghyuck actually looked disgusted. “I like to tie my women, not being tied up, thank you very much.”

“You said you were scared of losing control, right? If you’re tied up, you won’t be able to hurt me.”

He snorted. “A cheap handcuff like that won’t be able to hold me down, Sweetheart.”

“But at least it serves as a reminder.” You laid your hand on his chest, drawing lines on the cold skin. “I mean, I’m fine whether you wear it or not. I just want to be with you.” You pulled him down into an innocent hug, but the way you were grinding your hips against him was anything but that. “But if you feel this,” you palmed his length through his jeans, forcing him to emit a groan from the back of his throat, “can make you lose control then maybe we should try my idea. I don’t want us to stop, Hyuck, and I don’t care if you break me.” You leaned in to bury your face in the juncture of his neck, whispering, “I just want to feel you inside me again.”

“Fuck.” He groaned loudly against your shoulder, fingers twisting against the sheet. “Okay, where’s that fucking handcuff—” The way he tumbled down the bed—a century-old vampire tumbling down the bed—makes you giggle, even more so when he frantically rummages his closet, throwing clothes here and there, muttering, “where is it, where is it, come on, come on, come on, where’s that fucking thing,” to himself, until he finally hooked his fingers around a pair of handcuffs, shouting, “YES, I FOUND THEM,” to the air.

He hurriedly went back to the bed, looking breathless when he wasn’t even breathing, and crawled on top of you again. He chased after your lips and your laughter soon reduced back into gasps and moans before he finally broke away, asking, “Okay, tie me up. Hurry.” You’d think that being alive for more than a century would’ve taught him some self-control, but Donghyuck was eager and desperate, way more than you were.

He flipped your body before you could prepare yourself so you yelped in surprise, landing on his chest as he laid himself down on the bed, his head nearly knocking against the headboard. He offered you his wrists, saying, “I’m all yours, Sweetheart.” And you gulped hard, heartbeat blasting through the roof, heat rising to your cheeks.

The handcuffs were made of steel, cold to the touch and you secretly thanked the Lord that they weren’t one of those furry ones you saw in porn movies. You were secretly drooling at the sight of your usually dominating boyfriend lying helplessly on the bed, waiting for you to take the lead; his broad chest displayed under your hands, with you straddling him by the hips. His shirt was slightly pushed up, showcasing his v-lines and his navel that usually stayed hidden underneath. You followed his happy trail, disappointed when it disappeared behind the hem of his jeans.

“Stop being so blatant about it.” His voice was velvety, thick with seduction. “You’re gonna make me blush.”

“I—I wasn’t staring.”

“Never said you were.”

It was annoying how easily he could make you feel all hot and flustered. “S-shouldn’t you take off your shirt first?”

He held back a smile. “I can fuck you just fine with my shirt on but sure, I’ll take it off.” There was something in the way he grabbed the back of his shirt before he pulled it over his head that made you blush, averting your gaze but managed to sneak a peek at the way the muscles on his abs were contracting under the movement.

“Baby?” He snatched you back to reality when a few seconds had passed in silence. “If you don’t tie me up now, I’m gonna tie you up and have my way with you.”

You blushed. That… actually doesn’t sound so bad. You shook your head. That can wait. With shaky fingers, you place one of the handcuffs around his wrist and tied the other one to his headboard. He tried to yank his hand free, testing the strength of it. “I can break this in a split second,” he commented, “But I guess it does work as a reminder.”

“Do you have another pair that I can use to tie your other hand?”

“Leave my other hand free,” he demanded, eyes gleaming as he gazed at you. “I want to touch you.”

You breathed heavily. “O-okay.”

“So,” he smiled, awkward and amused. “We’re doing this?”

You bit your lip, slowly nodding. “W-we’re doing this.”

“Aaw, nervous?” His laughter sounded light in your ears. “How cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Then, come here,” he invited, gesturing you to come close with one hand. “Kiss me.”

You didn’t waste a second longer.

His kiss was slower this time, almost shy as if it was the first kiss you shared with him and it somehow made your heart beat even faster. You could hear him chuckling against your mouth, probably noticing your heart rate and you slapped his chest playfully to stop him from hearing things he wasn’t supposed to.

“Ah, you’re cute, so cute,” he kept saying, tracing his tongue along your lower lip, begging for entrance. His kisses gradually became deeper, harder, and his muffled laughter was replaced with soft groans. His praise was reduced to your name and you sighed in pleasure when you felt his lips moving down your neck, grazing your beating vein.

The position felt a bit awkward but possibly because you had never done it with him before. You were lying on top of him, your body pressed hotly against his chest and although he was already half-naked, you were still fully clothed. You weren’t sure whether you should undress yourself or let him do the work, but could he do it with one hand?

You remembered the time when he ripped your camisole and bra at the same time with only his fingers.

Yes. Yes, he could.

But Donghyuck seemed to be aware of what you were thinking because he ordered you to, “Take your clothes off.”

“I’m—” Flabbergasted, you pulled away, sitting straight on his stomach. “C-can’t you just take them off for me?”

You could tell he was trying to hold back another smirk from breaking upon his face. “But baby,” he cooed, raising his free hand in the air. “I only have one hand.”

“You practically ripped my undergarments with one finger before.”

“Did I?” His smirk grew prominent. “I forgot.”

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“What, being straddled by my girlfriend as she tries to undress herself while I’m being tied up to the bed?” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Meh, it’s not bad.”

“Why you little—”

Donghyuck’s laughter was contagious when you tickled him on the sides of his stomach that you ended up smiling at him too but it soon faltered when he curled his fingers around your locks, bringing your head down to smash his lips against yours until they were red and bruised. You became nervous once again when he tugged on your shirt, silently ordering you to take it off.

“Okay,” you said, sitting on his stomach, fingers trembling slightly as they were fiddling around the top of your dress. “Can you… look away, please?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re making me nervous.”

“Baby,” he tittered, “Just in case you weren’t aware of this. Being your boyfriend means that I’m allowed to enjoy the sight of my girlfriend taking her clothes off.”

“M-maybe later in the future. Can you just look away now?” When he was still adamant about it, you added, “Please?”

He sighed. “Fine, but in the future don’t blame me if I ask you to strip-tease to make up for this.” He closed his eyes, lips pouting. “Also, this is the only time I’ll allow this to happen.”

“Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“It’s not—” He groaned loudly, opening his eyes again to make sure you knew that he was glaring. “It’s not that. I just really want to look. There’s something sexy about girls taking their clothes off.”

“Girls?”

“I mean, you, baby. Only you.”

You gave him a flat look. “Whatever. Close your eyes.”

He jutted out his bottom lip but followed your command, while quietly repeating your line, “Two weeks in our relationship and you’re already ordering me around.”

“I heard that.”

“I heard that,” he mocked and you flicked him on his Adam’s apple until he whined.

Dating a brat was exhausting. Dating a bratty vampire was even more exhausting, but Donghyuck could also be charming and mature when he needed to be so you forgave him for that.

Seeing how he kept his eyes closed, you reached the end of your dress and pulled it off your head in one try. Strands of your hair were caught in the zipper, tugging at your scalp when you tried to unravel them in a hurry. Clicking your tongue in annoyance, you gave better effort to disentangled them with more patience.

“Need a hand, Sweetheart?”

You jolted, a squeak fell off your mouth. When you turned around to see him, your boyfriend was staring at you with a bratty grin on his face.

“Hey!” Flushed, you slapped him on the chest. “I didn’t tell you to look.”

“You told me not to look when you took your clothes off. You didn’t say anything about me staring at my cute girlfriend having the biggest crisis of her life.” His little laughter was just as annoying as it was charming. “Come here, I’ll help you.”

Your pride wouldn’t let you but you had spent minutes trying to break free from your stupid dress with no satisfying result so, with a heavy heart and a prominent scowl on your face, you bent down, leaning close to him until he could let his hand roam along your locks.

“This is so stupid,” you grumbled.

“I think it’s cute,” he chuckled, carefully unwinding the strands from your zipper. “This is the cutest you’ve ever been to me.”

You blushed slightly. Trying to avert your attention away, you began to focus on the sight in front of you. Pressed against his chest, your face was almost buried in the crook of his neck. You took the chance to press soft kisses on the cold skin, running your fingertips down from his collarbone to his navel.

“There, done,” he said, tossing the dress away without a care. He sounded a bit breathily when your teeth grazed against his neck. “Let’s not waste any more time. Come here, I need you.” The way he tugged you toward him by your elbow was firm but not forceful. And no matter how much you had kissed him already, he still loved the way you moved your lips against his and never wanted it to stop.

Being on top of him didn’t necessarily mean you were in control. Even with one hand tied, Donghyuck knew how to lead, whispering guidance here and there, sometimes in the way that made you blush from how specific his orders were. Before you knew it, you were both fully naked, with you sitting on his thighs, stroking at his length as directed.

Donghyuck shivered under your touch, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure. “You—” He had to nip on his bottom lip to contain his groan when you swiped your thumb along his slit. “You don’t happen to have any lube with you, do you?”

You were so captivated by the way he looked, all needy under your fingers, that he had to call you by your name to gather your focus back to his question. “Oh, n-no. Why?” You stroked him faster, curling your fingers a little bit tighter around his length.

Donghyuck threw his head back, eyebrows adjoined in the middle. “Fuck,” he hissed, eyes glazed and when they peered back into yours, they were glowing brightly in topaz—almost golden, and brighter from the dim lighting of his room. “Well then,” he heaved, wetting his lip. “I guess, we’ll do it the old school way. Turn your body around for me.”

“What?”

“I want to be romantic and use pretty words, but desperate times need desperate measures so get your ass over here,” he gestured with his hand for you to come over to his face, “and your face over there.”

Steam practically came out of your ears from how ashamed you were. “What?!”

“I need to make you wet and you need to coat my dick with saliva so it won’t hurt when I get inside you.”

He wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t going to be romantic about it. How the fuck can he say something like that so easily?! “I—I can’t,” you were practically wheezing, “It’s too embarrassing—I—”

“If you don’t want to suck my dick, you can just spit on your hand and—”

“I’m more worried about sitting on your face—”

“Oh, no need to worry about that.” He gave you a reassuring smile which somehow upsets you even more. “It’s actually something I’ve been imagining to happen—”

“Oh my God—”

“Would you stop freaking-out and listen to me, please?” He was laughing and you were having a seizure. “Babe, relax. Trust me, it will feel good.”

You had no doubts about that but still, it didn’t suddenly make it easy for you to just naturally sit on his face. But to be honest, the thought of it was as exciting as it was embarrassing and with Donghyuck being relaxed about it—not making this into such a big deal, unlike how Mark reacted when anything sexual occurred—you couldn’t help but succumb to your own curiosity.

“Okay,” you pressed a hand against your chest. “Just let me calm myself down a little.”

He suppressed a smile. “You’re having a crisis again?”

“Shut up.”

No matter how much you tried to compose yourself, you couldn’t. You became even more nervous, and you thought that wasn’t possible. The naughty twinkle in Donghyuck’s eyes gradually turned tender and he reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you relax.”

You let him take hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face. He kissed your inner palm before he dragged his lips down to your wrist, his eyes peering into yours as he did it. You could feel his lips turning into a faint smile as they grazed your skin but on the next second, he bared his teeth, extended his fangs, and punctured your skin with them.

“Hyuck—” You yelped from the pain but soon began to lose yourself to the ecstasy of his bite. You could feel all the knots in your body started to loosen one-by-one, your mind becoming hazy with bliss.

Donghyuck didn’t sink his teeth too deep and didn’t drink too much, only a gulp and nothing more even when his eyes were glowing bright, gravely needing another taste of your blood. He lapped at the wound, kissing the bite mark he made on your skin. “How do you feel?”

“I’m…” Your eyes began to droop, blinking slowly. “Great…. I feel great…”

He chuckled at your words. “That’s good to hear,” he said, “Now turn around and lower yourself on my face.”

You could barely hear him but you got the picture. As if hypnotized, you felt your body moved even before you could finish your thought. Donghyuck’s free hand was placed on the inner part of your thigh as you hovered above his head, spreading your legs apart. “Come down here, Sweetheart, I don’t bite.” You couldn’t see his face but you could tell he was smirking, and if you weren’t this intoxicated, you would’ve smacked him with the nearest pillow over his poor choice of words. But the effects of his bite and the rush of endorphin that were still coursing through your veins made you follow his commands without further question.

You were balancing yourself with your hands on his stomach as he ran his tongue along your folds, tasting you just a little bit but you already shivered at the sensation. “Hyuck…”

He hummed in response, sounding like he was having the time of his life, pushing your thigh further apart so you could lower yourself more, his tongue dipping into your heat this time.

You were going insane, you could feel it. Breathing heavily, you decided to focus on a task at hand. You curled your fingers around his length, thumb brushing against the slit again because you knew how much he liked it before, and you could feel him moan before you could hear him.

You gave a tentative lick on the head, kissing his tip before running your tongue along the vein. Your fingers were stroking the area your tongue didn’t cover and you could hear him purring in content. After a brief second of self-preparation, you parted your lips and tried to go down on him in one try. Donghyuck threw his head back against the sheet, groaning loudly between a train of expletives, so sexy and obscene.

Hearing his moans encouraged you to do better so you tried to swallow him whole again. You could feel his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you tear up a little bit from the discomfort but you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed around him.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Donghyuck swore, his grip around your thigh grew tighter that it made you flinch but you continued with your ministration, bringing your hand into the game this time. It was so exciting, the sensation of having him dissolve into a groaning mess under your touch so you stroked him faster, sucked him harder, and continued even when he was practically whimpering in ecstasy.

As an act of revenge, Donghyuck licked his way deep into you with his free hand pumping a finger inside you and adding another one soon after. When you moaned around him, it urged him to go faster, his digits were now scissoring inside of you.

You were practically crying by the time he told you to stop, urging you to turn around to face him because “I want to see your face when you come.” You positioned yourself on top of his length, cheeks bright red from all the passion and lust you have swirling inside your chest, and slowly sank yourself down.

Donghyuck’s handcuff was rattling against the headboard as he reeled in the sensation. His fangs were extended once again, his eyes glowing almost dangerously as he gazed at you from behind his bangs. “Fuck, you’re so—“ he hissed, his eyes going down to the part where you were connected to him. “How can you be so sexy without trying—”

The way he twitched inside of you made you quiver, and you tumbled down to his chest, your face closing in on him. He met you halfway when you sent him a signal to kiss you, smothering you with his lips, wet with tongues and painted with both desperation and urgency.

“Move,” he ordered, his voice suddenly turning low and perilous. “Baby, move for me, please.”

You granted his wish, wincing at the feeling of him growing larger inside you. The friction still burned so you tried to muffle your cry with his kisses, but after a few shallow thrusts, you could finally feel yourself relaxing, adjusting to his length.

“Faster,” he urged, unconsciously tried to hold your hips with both hands and groaned loudly when his handcuff pulled his hand back to the headboard. “Dammit. Baby, please, move faster.”

“Be patient,” you said between small gasps. Your nails were almost sinking to his chest. “It’s only my second time, Hyuck. Let me do it at my own pace.”

He initially groaned in protest, eyes tightly shut with his eyebrows furrowed but when he managed to collect himself, he apologized, "You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so hasty, you just make me feel so—" His jaw hung low when he felt you move, and by the time you began to clench your walls around him, he took his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard, relishing the moment.

As you steadied yourself with your hands on his chest, grinding your hips against him, you admired the details of his profile—his sultry half-lidded eyes, his plump lips, his cute front teeth that peeked out when he parted his lips in a silent moan, the tiny moles on his jaw and neck. He was both handsome and cute, and you were lucky—so damn lucky—to be able to witness these details with your own eyes.

“Fuck, I can’t—“ His voice startled you, snapping you out from your reverie. “I can’t do it like this. I’m gonna go crazy. Can you get off for a second?”

You were frowning but his urgency made you follow with a nod. You let him slid off of you, wincing slightly at both the pain and the loss of him. Donghyuck shifted his body until he was sitting on the bed, his spine pressed against the headboard. “Okay, come here,” he said, patting his thigh twice. You crawled over to his lap as requested, sitting on your knees as he held his length in one hand, positioning it over your entrance. You lowered yourself down, adjusting to his size once again and wrapping your arms around his neck for support.

“I can never get used to the feeling of you taking me in like that,” he murmured against your ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”

The new position allowed you to embrace him properly and you took advantage of it, meshing your lips with him as you bounced up and down, your breasts pressing against his chest. His free hand was urging you to move faster, nails sinking into the skin and you complied, trying to move as fast you can. “Yes,” he moaned, mouthing against your shoulder. “Just like that. You’re so good.”

The sounds he was making were so erotic that they made you weak. When he felt your movements gradually became slower, he began to buck his hips forward, thrusting into you hard while holding you firmly with one hand.

He nearly broke his handcuff from how desperate he was in wanting to hold you tightly with both hands, fucking you senselessly like how did with you before in the bathroom. But the way the steel was nearly sinking into his skin reminded him of the sole purpose of having it around his wrist. Feeling restrained only made his thrusts grow even more frantic, pushing your hips down to meet his at such a quick pace.

“Wait—” Taken by surprise, you clutched your arms tightly around him. “Hyuck—”

He suddenly sank his teeth on the skin under your jaw, between the earlobe and the collarbone and you nearly jumped out of your skin. For half an instant, it was agonizing. Painful and horrible. And then, just like that, the pain disappeared. He swallowed twice, moaning against your skin, his thrusts going out of rhythm.

The rush of endorphin helped to push you to the brink, clouding your thoughts and you couldn't tell where your body ended and his began but it didn't matter. That was how you always wanted it to be anyway. Donghyuck's lascivious grunts tugged on your heartstrings and with a couple of his hard thrusts, you began to shake. "H-Hyuck, I think I'm gonna—"

His mouth was still on your neck, now sucking bruises with his cuspids threatening to puncture. "Come, baby."

You came undone, body trembling with the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt. Donghyuck moaned your name against your ear when he felt you clenching and shaking around him. “God, that felt so good,” he said, still moving his hips, not caring if you were still sensitive after your orgasm. “You feel so good around me. Fuck, I want to do this again and again—I want to feel you more—I want to break you—”

And when his hips began to stutter, you knew he was close. He pulled you into a messy kiss where you could taste copper on his tongue but you didn’t mind and bounced faster on his lap, driving him to the edge.

You were startled by the sound of him breaking free from his handcuff with a hard yank of his wrist, but before you could react, he was pushing you off his lap, forcing you to stand with your knees on the bed, facing the headboard. Still reveling in the aftershock of your orgasm, your legs almost gave out on you so you placed both hands on the wall for support. "Hyuck—"

He was almost growling when he placed both hands on your hips and pushed himself back in a way that was so forceful, you ended up having your upper body pressed against the wall. He brought your hips closer to his, his tongue trailed against the dip of your spine, and you begged him to, "S-slow down, I just came—" but all that he did was the opposite. He snapped his hips forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs with each pound while murmuring, "Just a little bit more, baby," with so much lust and avidity. You gritted your teeth, curling your fingers against the railing of your headboard as if you were hanging on for dear life. Everything felt so good, so fucking good that you began to part your mouth in a silent scream.

With his head dangling forward, glowing eyes covered with his fringe, and your name tumbling down his lips in a soft, throaty moan, he came.

***

“How are you feeling?”

Dazed and completely fucked-out, you thought, but only answered with, “Tired.”

“Are you hurt somewhere?”

You shook your head.

“Thank God,” Donghyuck pulled you closer by the waist, both of your naked bodies were buried under the blanket. “I kind of lost control at the end.” He sheepishly chuckled at himself. “You were so hot when you came.”

“Shut up.” But that only made him laugh a bit louder. He pried your hands away before you could bury your face in them and cupped your cheek so you could do nothing but stare back at him.

“Is it too fast to say I love you?” He asked and his eyes were sincere but you were too embarrassed to respond properly so you pushed your palm to his face, pushing him away.

“Of course, it’s too fast. We’ve only started dating for like what, two weeks?” But the way your heart almost leaped in joy betrayed you. You turned away from him, focusing your gaze on the bed lamp on his nightstand instead of his face. “If you tell me in like a year or something, maybe I’ll believe you.”

His laughter was warm, a stark contrast to how his skin felt under your touch. He leaned close, lips brushing against your hair as he embraced you close to his chest. “Then I’ll say it every day until you say it back to me next year,” he said, voice gentle and sincere. “I love you, baby.”

“Ugh, you’re gross.”

“There you go, playing hard to get again.” He whispered the next words with his lips brushing your earlobe. “Your ears are going red, though.”

“I’m going to kick you.”

“Well, I’m going to love you.”

But you kicked him anyway. The playful punches and kicks under the blanket managed to ease the tension, and before long, you were back to exchanging nonsensical banters with him again. The sunrise was still three hours away and even though your eyes were a bit heavy with sleep, your body exhausted beyond belief, you tried to keep yourself awake to spend a moment longer with him. You didn’t have any schedule the next morning anyway, so you could sleep to make up for the time you spent.

“Hyuck?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s… something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while but I couldn’t since I felt so embarrassed about it.”

“Oh? It’s not often you’re honest like this.” He smirked, pushing the bangs out of your eyes. “What is it?”

“Did you…” You cleared your throat, trying not to be awkward. “Did you get to come when we had sex the first time?”

He blinked twice, startled. “Oh… I didn’t, actually.” He timidly smiled. “You kind of passed out during that time and I didn’t have the heart to continue so I just carried you back to your room.”

With cheeks turning scarlet, you squeezing his hand. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pecked you on the nose. “It was my fault anyway. I shouldn’t have taken so much of your blood.” He gradually grew more serious. “I guess I’ve never thanked you for that, huh?” He tucked some strands of your hair behind your ear. “Thank you for giving me your blood. You’re literally the reason why I’m still alive to this day.”

“You’re welcome.” You mirrored his smile. “I have two other questions if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“Can vampires actually come?” You had to look away, noticing how stupid your questions was and added, “I mean, like, properly? Like humans do?”

“What, you didn’t feel it when I came inside you just now?”

You blushed madly. “I was too dizzy from the bite to notice.”

“Right, you passed out too. Again.” And before you could shout out your protest, he muffled your lips with his. “Of course, we can, Sweetheart. What, are you interested in making me come again?”

You gulped. “M-maybe later.” When you noticed him raising an eyebrow, you mentally slap yourself in the face.” I-I mean, not that I’m suggesting we should have sex again after this—”

“Oh? I was willing, though.” His godforsaken smirk should be banned from this world. Earning another punch to his stomach, he asked with a wince, “What’s the other question?”

You were still pouting from before but you asked, “Can vampires impregnate humans?”

“So eager to have my baby already? Two weeks in our relationship? Really?”

“Do you want to be punched again?”

“By your lips? Yes, plea—Aaw, hey, that hurts!” As he tried to soothe the pain away from the punch you landed on his chest, he added, “To answer your question, no. We don’t breed that way. Vampires are turned, not born.”

“How can you be so sure?”

He laughed. “Trust me, if vampires could get humans pregnant, then I would father hundreds of Hyuck babies by now.”

The thought of him having sexual relationships with other women in a way that was probably much hotter than yours made your heart drop to your stomach. There was an unfamiliar pain in your chest, pumping jealousy and resentment to your veins, clouding your thoughts with images of him lying in bed with naked women.

You turned away to face the ceiling, not saying a word. Donghyuck seemed to notice the way you got all tense and rigid so he laced your fingers with his, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “There’s only you now, you know that, right? For me, there’s only you.”

You nodded but only so slightly, still felt uneasy. You knew that it wouldn’t be fair to be mad at him about this—it’s not like he was cheating behind your back. And he’d lived for more than a century, of course, he had plenty of both romantic and sexual relationships. You were just upset because he was your first and that meant the whole world to you, but you weren’t even included in the top 10—or 100, even.

Donghyuck eyed you in concern and carefully wrapped an arm around your stomach, fingertips trailing around your navel. “Did you realize that,” he began, voice soft and tender, “a few months before we started dating, I stopped bringing girls to our apartment? I switched entirely to blood bags to the point I had to spend all my money. Do you know why I did that?”

You turned to him, snuggling close but still wasn’t brave enough to make eye contact. “Why?”

He had his lips brushed against your temple as he spoke. “Because it felt wrong. Every time I got together with someone, I thought about you. When I drank their blood, I thought about how your blood would taste like in my mouth. When I held them, I thought about what kind of face would you make as you writhed underneath me. When they moaned out my name, I thought about how hot would it be if it tumbled out from your lips instead. You, with that cute voice of yours.”

You blushed from ear-to-ear. “I-Is that so…”

He smiled a little, probably noticing how loudly your heart was thumping inside your chest. “I had to stop entirely when I accidentally moaned your name during sex. Man, she was so pissed.”

You nearly fainted from the sheer embarrassment. “How can you say these things so nonchalantly?”

“I’m actually pretty shy about it.” And this time he did sound sheepish. He lowered his head down, lips lingering close, nearly grazing the vein that beats faintly under your neck. “So don’t think about my past too much, because I’ve been thinking about you—only you—for a while now.”

You shivered, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Cool.”

Donghyuck pulled away, scrunched up his nose. “Cool?”

“Yeah.”

“I literally just poured all my feelings out to you, embarrassingly so, and your response is cool?”

You gave him your signature ignorant shrug. “Well, I’ve known for a while that you had a crush on me. I’m flattered. Thanks.”

“You’re so—” He attacked you with playful pokes and tickles, hands fumbling all over the place until you both ended up falling from the bed, laughing against each other’s mouth.

***

“Babe, you ready?”

You push your door open at the sound of his call, still struggling with tidying your bangs so they can frame your face perfectly. You’re about to go on a date with your boyfriend and this is the first time he actually asks you out properly. You’ve gone out many times with him before but it was always either to shop for groceries or have dinner in the cheap Chinese restaurant nearby.

So you kind of dressed up all the way, curling your hair and tying it up in a perfect ponytail—because you know just how much he likes seeing your neck exposed—wearing minimal make-up but with bright red lipstick, and a matching red off-shoulder dress that highlights your collarbones.

“Do you think this is too much?” You ask from the bathroom, still busy trying to put on your earring. When you’re done, you walk back to the living room, approaching his spot. “You haven’t told me where we’re going so I’m not sure what to wear—” You catch the way he’s looking at you, wide-eyed with lips parted in awe. “W-what is it? Are you thirsty again?”

He blinks himself awake. “For blood? Nope. For you?” He’s not subtle at all with his staring, eyes going up and down your body, committing every feature to his memory. “Parched.”

“If you’re gonna be this embarrassing the whole date, I’d choose to stay home, thank you very much.”

“What, can’t a man appreciate his girlfriend’s beauty?”

“Sometimes just a simple, you look nice, is enough.”

He chuckles softly, closing the space between you and running his thumb along your cheekbone as he cups your face. “I want to kiss you and ruin your lipstick so badly,” he murmurs, eyes almost glowing. The way he brings his lower lip between his teeth as he stares at you in a daze makes your stomach flip in delight. “But you look very beautiful right now and it would be a waste. I’ll wait until the end of our date. Then, I’ll savor every bit of you.” He leans in to whisper close in your ear, his smirk grazing against your earlobe. “In any way possible.”

You yank him by the hand, pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

You can’t wait until your date is over.

***

Donghyuck reeks with charms and allures. You notice that, certainly, but unfortunately for you, so do other people because he is gathering attention from every woman he passes by on the street—even some men. He’s just walking along the pavements in his black ripped jeans and denim jacket, but he makes it look like a fashion show. He’s deep in concentration, thumb sliding on his phone’s screen as he searches for the location of the place he’s planning to take you. His brooding look makes you swoon but you try to be subtle about it, unlike those females who pass by, practically undressing him with their eyes.

You’re uncomfortable and jealous but you try to keep yourself composed. “Is it far from here?”

“Just a couple of blocks,” he answers, smiling as he tucks his phone back. “Are you hungry? Do you want to stop by and grab some dinner before we go?”

You’ve lost your appetite. “I’ll eat on our way back.”

“You sure?”

You respond with a nod but he seems worried. You notice some people whispering behind your back, questioning with a mocking tone about your status with this God-like male in front of you and you couldn’t help but to sigh. “Can we go now?” Your tone sounds a bit cold even to your own ears, and you feel sorry because this is not how you planned your date night to go.

Donghyuck must have noticed the silent chatters, or at least, the hurting look on your face. Taking a hold of your wrist, he pulls you forward until you stumble to his chest and kisses your lips. You swear you could hear people gasping at that, but you don’t care. You don’t care that he’s kissing you in public, on the side of the street, with his hand secured tightly around your waist. You don’t care if your lipstick is ruined, though he kisses you softly to make sure it stays intact. And you don’t care if people are questioning his sanity for dating a girl like you because Donghyuck belongs to you and he’s proud of showing that to the world.

When he lets you go, your lips are curving up into a grin, cheeks reddening both from the cold and his touch. “You have lipstick on you,” you say, tiptoeing on your feet to brush the stain off his lips with your thumb, and Donghyuck, with that sexy, mischievous twinkle in his eyes, parts his lips, playfully placing your thumb between his teeth just a second before he lets it slide away. Your head is about to explode from how sexy he just looked and he chuckles at the sight, pecking you on the forehead once. “Let’s go, baby.” He strokes your hair before he lets his hand slide down to your waist again, walking next to you with your body pressed close to his side.

It turns out your boyfriend is taking you to a photo studio which is quite huge for a normal photo shoot. As you see so many staff, models, and photographers around you, walking back-and-forth in the studio to make sure everything is in order, you begin to realize. “Are you—”

“Yep,” he beams at you, proudly. “I’ve got a modeling gig.”

Your eyes grow wide because by the brand logo that you see plastered all over the place—on the back of the chairs, the doors, embossed in articles of clothing—it’s one of the top designer brands in the country. “What—how—” You’re flabbergasted. “How did you get this job?”

“I got cast on the street.” He simply shrugs. “It’s a one-time gig though, so nothing serious. But it is my first time so I’m pretty nervous about it, which is why I brought you along.” He swats the bangs out of your eyes, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. This is probably not how you imagined our date night was going to be.”

“No, but this is better.” Your eyes are scanning the place. “Look at all these models! They’re so beautiful—Oh my God, I know him!” You almost jump on your feet at the sight of a famous model getting his hair fixed by his stylist. “Isn’t he the one who was on the cover of W Magazine last month? Oh my God.”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Donghyuck pulls you back by the fabric of your dress. “I didn’t invite you to ogle at another man’s body.”

“It’s not his body, Hyuck. It’s his face, look at him!” You gesture toward the man with a sigh. “Look at those cheekbones, sweet Lord. His jawline has me feeling like sliced bread.”

Donghyuck snorts loudly. “Are you an idiot?”

“Might as well be. Can you get me his autograph?”

“I’m leaving.” And he really walks away, just like that, with his hands tucked inside the pocket of his jeans, and a scowl on his face.

“Wait, I’m sorry,” you hurriedly say, taking a hold of his arm. “Good luck with the photo shoot. I know you’d be amazing.”

He’s still not happy when he looks at you but he sighs, patting your head. “Thanks. You can wait for me in the hall. I think they have snacks and stuff.”

“Can’t I just linger around here?”

“To see me or to see him?”

“To see you, of course.” There’s no hesitation in your voice. “Seeing him is just a bonus. You’re my number one, Hyuck.”

He leers at you with suspicious eyes, still not one hundred percent pleased or convinced. “Well, I have to go. I need to change and get my make-up done.”

“Wait.” you hold him back again. “Do these people here know you’re, you know, not human?”

“No, and I intend to keep it that way. So, if you could just not mention it again, that’d help.”

You nod but when he’s about to part ways again, you reach out to him once more.

“What?” He whines, groaning. “I really have to—”

You stand on your toes and interrupt him with a kiss, hands winding around his neck. It’s just your lips meeting his for a few seconds and nothing more, but it’s still painted thickly with passion and desire.

“Good luck,” you whisper with a shy smile. He’s left a bit dazed but eventually nods his head. When he walks away, he rubs his nape, a gesture he tends to make whenever he’s flustered. You grin proudly to yourself. He’s wrapped around your fingers just as much as you are around his.

After half an hour has passed, you see Donghyuck walking back into the studio in a new outfit that makes him look so goddamn attractive that it literally steals your breath away. He’s wearing all black, from his turtle neck shirt, his khaki pants, his suit, even his hair looks somehow darker. He’s absolutely gorgeous, even the male photographer has to stop and stare for a good few seconds before he remembers to adjust his lenses.

Donghyuck poses naturally in front of the camera and it startles you how a simple pose could look so beautiful when it’s done by him. He unbuttons his suit, lets it falls off his shoulder, his eyes half-lidded as he stares into the camera—everything that he does reeks masculinity and femininity at the same time and you don’t know if that’s even possible. You’ve known that his body proportions are insane but this outfit just highlights every inch of his body that needs to be appreciated.

A staff hands him a rose and he brings it close to his face, his lips grazing against the petal—making him look like a painting. His usual cheeky grin has vanished without a trace and the way he stares back at the camera—both enchanting and challenging—sends shivers down your spine.

Fuck, how is he so hot?

Two hours long photoshoot feels like a minute to you and you’re feeling a bit dazed when it’s over. Donghyuck walks over to your spot, pushing up his long sleeves to his elbows. “Hey,” he says, smiling a little. “Sorry, did I make you wait long?”

“Oh… Umm…” You’re blushing and you don’t know why. You’re just suddenly overwhelmed with his presence. “Y-you were…” Fantastic. Breathtaking. Absolutely gorgeous. Please take me home and have me as dessert. “You were good.”

“Good?” He raises an eyebrow, making you gulp. “That’s it?”

“I…” Your fingers are curling against the fabric of your dress. “You were great.”

Donghyuck seems a bit amused until he realizes something. He leans close, making you flinch when he takes a sniff near your neck. “Why do you smell like you’re…” A smirk creeps up his face. “Aroused?”

Yes, okay, just kill me. Kill me now. “I’m not—”

“Seems like someone is enjoying this photoshoot too much.”

You’re about to combust into flames. “Are you done? Can we go home now?”

“You want to go home? And do what?” He bites the corner of his lip as he tries to contain his grin. “Enlighten me, Baby.”

He’s seducing you, torturing you, and he’s enjoying every second of it. “Fine, then. I’ll walk home by myself.”

But as you turn around on your heels, Donghyuck grabs you by the wrist and pulls you forward to match his step, going in the opposite direction of where you were planning to go. “Wha—where are you taking me?!”

He shushes you quickly and makes a turn, barging into one of the changing rooms that models often use to get prepared for the photoshoot. The room is bright with fluorescent lights, though not as spacious as you’d thought it would be, but the only thing that matters now is that it’s unoccupied.

Donghyuck kicks the door closed with his feet before he pushes you against it, lips meeting you in a searing kiss as he locks the door behind you. “Your scent,” he breathlessly says against your mouth, running his tongue along your lower lip. “It’s so thick with lust.” If it’s as thick as the teasing tone in his voice, you’re so doomed. “Are you okay, baby?”

“Shut up.” You kiss him, fisting the fabric of his shirt before you pull it off his head. Your hands immediately go down to his chest, caressing his stomach before they circle his neck again. “If we’re gonna do this then hurry up and fuck me.”

A small laugh reverberates from his chest. “So aggressive. And to think you were so shy yesterday.”

“Shut up. Does sex usually involve this much talking?”

“With me, it does.” He purrs against your ear, tugging your earlobe between his teeth. “Because then I get to see more of your expressions.” His tongue feels hot and dangerous on your sensitive skin. “You’re so fucking cute when you blush, but you being aggressive like this isn’t too bad.”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up.” You’re already dying from shame and his unnecessary comments only fuel it even more. “Are we really—” you gasp when he pushes you up the wall, and you quickly tangle your legs around his waist for balance, the back of your red heels pressing against his spine. “Are we really doing this? Here?”

“Of course, we’re doing this.” His hands are sliding dangerously along your thighs, pushing the fabric of your dress up your body until it pools around your waist. “I’ve been wanting to do this ever since you laid your eyes on him.”

“What—” You throw your head back, making a soft thud when it meets the door. Hopefully, no one catches that. “You mean that model? I was just kidding—”

“Kidding?” He slips two of his fingers inside his mouth, coating them with saliva and it’s so sensual, the sight of him, that only seeing him do that already makes you feel sinful. He slides his hand down between your legs, wet fingers immediately finding their way to your heat from the side of your lingerie. “I don’t think it was funny.” He inserts his first digit, making you sink your nails into his shoulders. “Do you, baby?”

You’re breathing hard, temple pressing against his. When he feels you stretched enough, he adds another one. “Baby, I asked you a question,” he chuckles, scissoring his fingers inside you. “Do you think it was funny?”

“No.” You shake your head, a sob nearly escapes your lips. The mixed feelings of being dominated, teased and pleasured at the same time make you feel lightheaded, and he hasn’t even drunk from you yet. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Aaw, but I’m not mad,” he coos, kissing you softly on the corner of your lips. “I’m a bit pissed-off but certainly not angry.”

His words are doing very little in reassuring you but you’re too busy focusing on the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out, his thumb rubbing fervently against your clit. “Hyuck—”

“Sssh.” He perks up, his movements stop abruptly. “Someone’s here.”

You mouth What?! in horror, about to shove him away so you can land back on your feet and fix your clothes and hair but he keeps you still. He presses his body harder, one hand holding the back of your thigh while his other one still lingers near your lingerie. There’s absolutely no way you can fight his superhuman strength.

Within the next few seconds, you can hear the clicking of heels meeting the marbled floor and you hold your breath, fingers shaking but the rest of your body is still. Donghyuck keeps his gaze on you, his eyes unwavering as he tries to read the situation.

“Hey, it’s locked. Why is it locked?”

“I don’t know. It wasn’t locked before.”

Two female voices can be heard from exactly behind you and you’re about to break out in a cold sweat. If you breathe just a little bit harder, they probably can hear you. Donghyuck notices the way your breathing tatters and with a gleam in his eyes, he smirks.

And moves his fingers again.

Your hand immediately shifts from his shoulder to his wrist, trying desperately to keep it from moving. Your eyes are throwing ice daggers as you mouth don’t you fucking dare to him but his sly grin only gets wider. He leans in to pepper sultry kisses on your jawline, up to your ear, whispering, “Keep your voice down.” And though he speaks reassurance, his fingers are not.

He slides one between your folds, tentatively pressing into your heat before he drags it back, heel continues to add pressure to your clit. It’s when he inserts the digit back into you that you begin to flinch. He helps muffle your voice down with his kisses first but when you truly need to be silenced, he pulls away, enjoying the view of your cheeks turning scarlet, bangs sticking to your temple with sweat, and adding another finger into your warmth.

“So cute,” he whispers, his eyes are starting to glow. You notice that their color changes depending on what he’s feeling. They glow when he’s thirsty, that much is obvious, but there’s also one other condition. The more he’s aroused, the brighter they get, almost turning topaz entirely, and soon his cuspids will follow, extending to take a bite. He still has his fangs retracted, but his eyes are gradually gleaming brighter as he takes in your expressions. “So pretty…” The way he praises you is almost like he’s in a haze. “I love seeing you like this.”

“What to do? My purse is inside.”

“Shall we ask around for the key?”

You’re so scared, terrified beyond belief and Donghyuck is savoring every moment of you trying to contain your moans. “Aaw, they’re going to open the door,” he murmurs against your ear. “What do you think we should do, baby?”

Fuck if I know. Your eyes are closed shut, your fingers curling against his nape. He licks a stripe up your neck, moaning softly from the desire to fill his mouth with your blood. “I know one thing for sure,” he swallows, wetting his lip. “I need to make you come first.”

Donghyuck always lives up to his promise. He knows what he’s doing and it feels extremely pleasant having his fingers deep inside you but you can’t give yourself into the pleasure entirely from the fear of being caught. But as he goes faster, now focusing more on playing with your clit, you feel fire coursing through your veins, loosening the knot in your stomach, and out of panic, you bite him hard on the part where his neck meets his shoulder, muffling your moan as you come onto his hand.

You can feel him flinching, a low grunt erupting from the back of his throat but you’re too dazed to notice. When the aftertaste of your orgasm starts to decrease, Donghyuck lets you down to the floor. You have to keep your hold on him as your legs wobble under your weight and when you look up, you see him with his fangs fully extended, his eyes glowing as bright as the sun.

“Hyuck—“ He bites into your skin without permission, and he does it fiercely, sloppily, that your blood begins to taint your dress. You’re grateful that it’s at least in the same color as your blood so a few drops won’t be noticed. The rush of endorphin calms your nerves, almost leaving your senses dull and you slide down to the floor, your spine still pressed against the door.

When he pulls away, he lets his tongue runs along his lower lip, wiping it clean from your blood. His eyes are strictly golden.

“My turn now.”

***

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ducknotinarow · 3 years

Note

Jelly + Blitzo ★

| send a ★for what my muses thinks of yours

"Why are these fucking lines so fucking long every damn fucking morning, don't you people have jobs to be at!" BlitzØ went on to complain as he went for his morning iced coffee before heading into I.M.P. for the day. Course the fact it was so busy was because everyone was here for the same reason as Blitzø. Needing a caffeine fix before hitting the daily grind except Blitzø didn't care to much why they were all here they were in his way so it was just an inconvenience to the imp right now as he loudly tapped his boot against the ground. The line was barely inching by as time went on.

Made even worse with the imp behind him suddenly bumped into him since Blitzø didn't see a need to move a few centimeters over. As BlitzØ made sure to fix them with the best stink face he could muster right now to express his annoyance only for the other imp to only roll their eyes out of annoyance. “Fucking prick” was all BlitzØ mutter as he turned to look the other way but the imp who hit him suddenly changed their mood after getting a second looked over of BlitzØ, catching from the side of his sight range.

“Man, can’t fucking hot imp just get some coffee with out getting bug for his digits,” he went on to sigh and groan over this damn line was barely moving seemed like it was at a full stop but the line on the other end was just growing. Wondering if at this point he should just call it and leave with out getting his drink in the end. Though before he could really think on the choice, the second imp finally spoke up.

“Hey ain’t you the one Prince is screwing behind his wife?”

Oh that’s why they were checking him out, should be that much a shock damn bird had a big beak after all the times they were in public he was far from keeping things between a secret after all so yeah could have really been anywhere to have seen him before. “Eh not really behind her back yeah sure whatever ya wanna call it,” wanting to blow them off when bodies started to move, fucking finally! taking a few steps only for everything halt again. Damn it. He was so close at this point, even if it meant being stuck in this conversation. He had tuned the other imp out for sometime only getting bits here and there as they went on to talk about the rumor going around about the prince messing around with some Imp and all. Blah blah blah general insults about being a cheap slut. Going on about Stolas, eh imps were not all fans of the royal demons and their privilege of the luck of draw they had being born into the right family. Yeah more stuff he already knew fuck this guy was annoying.

But then something they said about Stolas, just didn’t sit right with the imp.

“What makes you even wanna deal with a selfish cheating prick like that ditzy owl.”

It wasn’t even that bad hell BlitzØ has called the prince worst...though Stolas may like that considering when he tended to do so? Didn’t matter it was still pissing him off, turning around to look at the imp, blame him not getting his fix of coffee just yet but he still felt the need to get in their face right now.

“What your mama never tell you to keep ya damn , hardly big enough to hold a dick, mouth shut?” fixing his wide eyes on to the other imp as he care not for those around them also looking on to the conversation being held between the two imps. “Not that’s it any of your god damn business but that ditz happens to hold a lot inside his damn thick head. Yeah I think he’s think bout my dick most the time but that doesn't compare to all shit he knows on stars and junk, or plants even." A lot went over his head but he kind of liked listening to Stolas speak about those things. "Can’t use that stupid heavy book of his like he dose to rip the fucking sky open and show off a moon if his head were as vacant as you wanna say.” though Stolas seemed to keep space for Blitzø in there as well among everything else, and once he had gotten started BlitzØ found himself unable to stop speaking about Stolas so openly right now.

“Hell you think some one who make sure his night guest had enough blanket to keep warm in is selfish?” thinking about how the owl just was with him pretty often actually? “Or shows how much he appreciates getting some shitty shaped pancakes made for them, or checks on the same idiot when they fucked up and fell out of their damn ass giant bed.” he was rambling a bit but it was the things that came to mind first. why was he so fucking heated over it though?

“Yeah sure fuck he’s a lot of things, a perverted bird with privilege up his damn ass, but none of the stupid crap you’re spewing over here is remotely close." Stolas never used his status to make Blitzø feel shitty if anything he used it to benfit them. "When he gives a fucking damn he makes it damn clear and puts in efforts he might not fucking noticed.”

Stolas was too good for an imp like him to be around. Why the fuck did they waste thier time on him anyway. Whu did they bother speaking so softly to him, looking over him as theh started to...fuck he was worth thier fucking compassion but that's all that damn owl wanted to give and Blitzø....

And Blitzø wasn't worth that. Yet right now all he could think of was being in bed with Stolas, them curled around him thier arms tightly binding him and just how nice it felt to be like that with them.

Having grown quite as his thoughts gee louder to him self, meanwhile the imp he went off one just now had narrowed thier eyes to BlitzØ. Clearly not liking be talked down to as they were and over some royal demon who never had to struggle and it was clear to Blitz they were ready to bite back, so soon he smirked because he also knew he did have some favor with the price so why not throw that weight around. Smug grin culling over his lips.

"I'd be careful if I were you, I'm pretty good at banging out that man's brains out for him to keep me around." That seemed to boil out any anger they had started to feel themself.

"Next!" Called the cashier suddenly

"Oh looks loke were done here, don't worry when out slutting it up with him I won't tell him about this, maybe." He joked a bit enjoying how they tensed a bit to the threat.

#muse| bliztø #madamkezzie #aflockofffeathers #[ I never want to fall in love with you because I know you could break my heart - aflockoffeathers]#((buts it not like he likes stolas or anything uwu))

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nymphigeon · 4 years

Text

From me, to you || 01

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.1k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): swearing, crime, a sex club, mentions of murder, blood, mentions of hybrid abuse, mentions of drugs, mentions of the mafia.

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you'll give it to him.

Series masterlist

01 02

The weather has been terrible lately. The summer heat has been replaced by cold days full of rain and wind. The sky is constantly grey with now and then a flash of light caused by the thunderbolt that decided to say hi. Leaves have turned brown, dying as the trees don’t have the resources to take care of them anymore.

The flock of people on the streets has all but disappeared, giving shops an opportunity to adjust their opening times. Animals feel the need to hide away more and leave to their homes underground or high up. Some even completely move to places where the sun shines brighter. Of course, because where the sun shines there is warmth.

Now sometimes autumn is associated with warm chocolate milk in front of the fire place wrapped up in a blanket. A slow song is playing in the background on low volume while you’re playing cards on the floor, or well most likely on a rug. Seated comfortably, your back against the sofa and your knees raised, nicely cuddled up into yourself, or perhaps someone else.

The sound of rain hitting the windows acts as a lullaby during your time inside. And if you do forcefully need to get out for a short time, the pleasant petrichor will softly welcome you. Or maybe this sounds more like winter? What does it matter, both seasons are cold.

At the time mother nature decided to shift it’s warmth to other places on earth, a thick layer of unease seemed to settle over the city. Like all the fun the sunrays brought were traded for despair. Awfully noticeable in how the amount of cases for the local police have risen dramatically.

People are staying at home so everyone who was hired during the busy summer has to be fired. There is too much staff otherwise. People in this particular town already aren’t the richest in the world, imagine what happens when employment rates drop.

Crimes have been a regular subject for the news. The few that did go outside, now stay at home out of fear. Curtains closed, lights out, please don’t enter my house. Or curtains opened, lights on, there is someone at home.

Most offenders have yet to been caught. Everyone is your enemy now. Don’t trust the neighbour who came home late last night. The sound of your glass falling is the window being broken. I’m calling the police.

While jewellery is being stolen at one side, someone will use the opportunity of the police being busy to kill the innocent. Or maybe they didn’t pay back the money they got from some sketchy dude in an alleyway down the street. Not so innocent anymore.

The only workers making bank at the moment are those with a career in law enforcement. Oh and those criminals were talking about. That includes hybrid dealers and unlicensed sex clubs.

When my boss called me to work, I didn’t expect to hear about a hybrid deal gone wrong inside said unlicensed sex club. Just for your information, treating hybrids like slaves has been long forbidden. You can own them, show off your wealth all you want, but the instant you hurt the half-animal you can see your money out the door. In return, you can expect expensive fines and imprisonment. At least that’s what is supposed to happen.

Still a blind eye is often turned to incidents involving hybrids by both the general public and law enforcements. You can also be fined for not turning in the information you have of a possible abuser, but say that’s also ignored, there is no other law backing the poor hybrid up.

The laws were originally established because the half-animals are also half-humans, created by some crazy scientist who perished years ago. Some rogue failed experiment turned on him. A warning for humans not to take in wild animal hybrids, not that anyone listened. Those wild animal hybrids are sometimes worth more money than the diamond necklace your mafia-boss husband got you.

The second I agreed to meet my colleagues at the crime scene I was hung up on, the beeping tone at my ear notifying me. I love the work I need to do, but I hate the people involved. It pays the bills though, so you won’t see me complaining. I get my stuff together and head out the house. It’s dark outside, raining too. The darkness might be explained by the fact that it’s 11 pm at night. Not the greatest time to be out. Luckily my job has provided me with a car, so you won’t see me walking.

During the ride the radio plays reports of different crimes throughout the city. Some happened at the exact same time, others had no connection whatsoever, yet they ended up being executed by the same group. Tv shows like CSI have been stuffing these sinners with the confidence to rob a place. The average criminal is luckily stupid enough not to know these shows don’t show the entire picture. However, that didn’t make them any easier to catch according to this radio report. On the other hand, what radio stations don’t know is that police won’t show them the entire picture either. Well they’re just there to spread panic, fact checking isn’t a job requirement.

The rain makes the view basically non-existent. Coming down like the angels are just throwing buckets of water over our heads, everything in the distance is blurry. Or maybe they just drank a lot, who knows. Weather reports have been warning for slippery roads, albeit I think they forgot to mention anything about nature made swimming pools outside of our houses.

Seeing as there is nothing good to report on the news they might as well downplay everything to give viewers their daily dose of good news. There is no good news though, and pretending that there is, is dangerous. Hope will only crush future expectations of being safe. Not that they care, they just need high ratings.

Seeing blurry blue and red lights in the distance is my indication that I’m getting close. I’ve never been to this part of town, if I had this so called sex club would’ve already been long gone. Don’t underestimate me, I can sense law breaking acts from a mile away. The fact that I don’t live too far away from addresses where everyone looks to be a drug addict just makes me better at my job.

I park my car next to the others at the side of the road and uncomfortably bend myself to take my bag from the backseat. I do not want to stand in this rain for longer than needed. I mentally prepare myself to get inside as fast as possible. I won’t worry about the sight inside too much, I’m used to it.

I get out of the car and lock it, before walking over to the barricade tape. The outside of the club looks the same as any other sexual fantasy indulging club. Pink lights and posters of men and women in nothing but flimsy underwear plaster the windows. If it wasn’t for the bunch of officers behind the barricade tape, nobody would’ve known there was somebody murdered inside.

Reporters collect themselves in front of officers close to the tape, trying to get any kind of information out of them. They’re not getting any, so they keep trying, foolishly believing we know any more than they do. Well maybe a little more.

Anyways, without proper investigation we are just as clueless as they are. I’ll applaud their dedication though, as not all reporters have brought an umbrella with them. Imagine getting soaking wet just to ask a few questions. They might not have a raincoat, but they’re all somehow protecting their camera’s one way or another.

As I get closer to the tape blocking outsiders from entering, reporters notice me approaching. If it wasn’t for my uniform they wouldn’t even have batted a lash in my direction. Right now apparently, I’m the most interesting human being on earth. Remembering my trainings I keep my head low and ignore every question thrown my way, until I reach the officer waiting for me.

“Ah, detective Y/F/N Y/L/N, we have been expecting you.” He allows me to duck under the tape, fore shaking my hand and placing a gentle hand on my lower back. The umbrella he’s holding protects me from arriving inside looking like I just had a shower with my clothes on. Like this, I get escorted inside, leaving the flashing camera’s behind me.

“Good evening, Miss Y/L/N.” Another female detective greets me immediately once I step inside. The male officer gives me a nod ere disappearing back into the front garden of the club. Probably going to spend his time listening to silly questions and being blinded by light. At least he might make in on the front page of tomorrow’s newspapers. Maybe he’ll get scouted by some modelling agency just to appear on more front pages.

“David Brown, mid-thirties, and an employee at the club, Mia Labell, 23, both got killed after Brown tried to buy a hybrid of another man we can’t identify from the security footage. Both the hybrid and man wore a hood. We don’t know what went down inside the room as there are no camera’s inside and the walls are soundproof.” The woman, whose name is apparently Blair Miller as shown on the name badge on her chest, explains the situation while she leads me to the room.

“For an illegal sex club they are awfully professional.” I note, having paid close attention to her words. “Well if you don’t want to get outed by a customer I guess that’s the right thing to do. People value anonymity.” I add as the other female holds up a key card against a control panel to the right of a metal door.

The door slides open after a beep of confirmation. A young girl laying on the large bed in the middle is the first thing I lay my eyes on. The bed sheets are tainted completely red with her blood. Next to the bed lies a man, drowning in a puddle of his own blood. The bodies of the two still look like they could stand up at any moment. “Time of death?”

I walk further into the room, looking around for any other clues I should note. “Approximately 10.38 pm for both of them.” Blair answers, meekly standing in the door opening. “How did they rent the room?” I put on a pair of white latex gloves, before gently expecting the girl on the bed, without moving her from her position. Her hands are tied together, thick ropes cutting into her skin. A gag in her mouth, a blindfold covering her eyes and some lingerie complete the look.

“They wanted one girl for the three of them, paid, then took this room as any other customer would.” Dangerous, there is no way to keep these girls safe. No camera’s, just selling them off to multiple men at the same time. Is there any security around here? The two bodies contain multiple stab marks in their chest and stomach area. There are no signs of any strangling or poisoning. Cause of death for now is bleeding to death, but we’ll have to wait for the autopsy.

“Three?” I don’t look at Blair as I voice my questions. I’m good at multitasking, no need to focus on one thing only. “Mister Brown, the unnamed man and the hybrid.” They rented the girl as normal, then tied her up and proceeded to use the room for their business. Seeing as both died around the same time, the girl was alive during their exchange. We can’t exactly ask her anything right now though.

“How did the culprit leave?” You take a swab from under the fingernails of both bodies, hoping they might have scratched whoever did this. “Leisurely strolled outside the front door with the hybrid on a leash.” The poor hybrid must have witnessed everything. There was never a reason for this to happen. “These two were found by a cleaner going in not even a minute or two later.” It’s not my job to care. It’s not my job to ask either, but I’m not heartless, I am able to feel sympathetic.

“How are they doing?” I look at Blair for this one. Maybe because it’s a different type of question. “Shocked at first of course. They’ve calmed down now.” That makes me feel better. I’ve been doing this for over 2 years, and never will I be able to understand how someone could do this. Then again, the reason for becoming a criminal investigator was not to understand anyway, but to serve, to protect. And protect I will.

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birdwonder · 5 years

Note

Prompt anon here for your daily dose of prompts! Today's prompt: Ice cream date with Ghiaccio.

|| every time i see a post or a request about Ghiaccio i grow stronger. ( also thank u for giving me an excuse to write for him, prompt anon

Ghiaccio | Gelato

Bustling streets, time to spare and a sun glaring down like the wrath of a fiery god on a scorching summer day - it was only natural you went out for ice-cream.

Ghiaccio, being the argumentative man that he was, had complained nonstop about leaving the cool, shaded room of his house in place for the sweltering outside, not even stopping when you had offered ever so kind to pay for anything that he wanted. Of course, no matter how much he moaned and groaned, he still went along just for the sake of being with you.

The Italian heat was merciless that day but you made sure not to let it get to you. A wide smile was plastered on your face and you didn’t have a care in the world as you walked down the streets with your pinkie finger loosely hooked around your boyfriend’s, who was still too cautious about showing any public displays of affection in public. You understood that really. It was obvious to anyone at first meeting that Ghiaccio was neither friendly nor affectionate and he was not meant to have that appearance either, not when he worked for the mafia. So, as any loving partner would, you let him be himself with the satisfying knowledge that as soon as you two got home, his hands would not leave you alone for a second.

“You know, you can smile everyone once in a while,” you teased lightly, turning your head just a little to look up at the scowling man who’s glasses seemed to comedically steam up from his sharp exhaling and the surrounding heat, causing you to laugh a little. Snapping his head at both your comment and laughter, Ghiaccio glared down at you for mocking him, to which you giggled more at seeing as his eyes were hard to make out through the mist on his glasses.

“I know I can, I just don’t want to.” The man retorted bluntly, shoving his hand into his trouser pocket to pull out a small cloth specifically for his glasses and slowing his steps to clean the lenses; also so he wouldn’t easily run into anything whilst his spectacles were off. Already missing the minimal contact with the two of you, you held out your hand to him and opened and closed it multiple times, almost in a ‘gimme’ motion. “Tch, what are you? A child? Walk by your damn self, you’re the whole reason I need to keep cleaning my glasses anyways, what with you wanting a stupid ice cream.”

“Ooor,” you grinned, hands now held behind your back innocently, “is it because I’m so hot?”

He gave you a disappointed, almost digusted, look. “Shut up.” Again, you chortled at his answer and even more so at the fact he had blushed at what you said since he knew full what that you were too good looking to be true.

The rest of your walk went by pretty smoothly for the most part, a cool breeze coming by at one point that the two of you relished in, and in no time you were standing by on of your favourite gelato stands in the whole of the city. Maybe even the whole country if you were so bold to incline!

“Aah, I don’t know what to pick!” Your fretting had irked Ghiaccio, the taller watching you scanned the menu up and down a thousand times before he placed his hand on top of your head in a claw-like gesture and shook it a little.

“You had a whole walk to think about it! Don’t tell me we have to wait hours just for you to pick what fucking flavour you want - just pick one and go!” He scoffed at your frown and rolled his eyes, unimpressed by your struggling, “we have ice cream at home anyways, I don’t know why we had to come all the way out here.”

Huffing, you nudged his side with your elbow and throw up your hands in an exasperated manner. “Well sooorrry I wanted to spend time with the best boyfriend in the world with my favourite treat! God, next you’ll be asking why I’m dating you in the first place.”

Ah, there you go again, too cute and kind for this world. Ghiaccio really didn’t know what he did to deserve you and he was certain that he should just disappear into the night one day to let you find someone better than him. Yet he didn’t. He loved you way too much and he knew the feeling as mutual.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just...pick one.” It was probably way too obvious how happy it made him to hear those words, whether it be because of his mouth twitching into a smile or his light blush.

You tapped your chin a few times before finally settling your eyes on a flavour you thought would be good. Finally!

Two fingers was all you needed to hold up to allow the vendor to understand how many you were going to ask for. The moustached, jolly man gleefully taking hold of two cones and clean scooper, ready to take your order.

“One bubblegum gelato scoop and a uhhh,”

“Pistachio.”

“Pista- eew. You sure?”

“Shut up.”

The vendor chuckled at the two of you’s banter, shaking his head. “Oh to be in love. One bubblegum and a pistachio, coming right up.”

When the gelato was ready and handed over, you graciously took hold of your’s while the plan to pay for both was quickly thrown out the window by Ghiaccio slamming down the needed amount onto the counter. “Keep any change,” he mumbled before taking hold of his own cone and stalking off a good ten to twenty metres away so he could stand underneath the comforting shade of a tree.

With a final smile to the vendor, you waved goodbye and headed over to stand by your grumpy partner, already licking away at your scoop of gelato.

“So what made you finally pick a flavour?” Ghiaccio asked, eyes more focused on you than the treat in his hands.

Holding up the cone in hand, you closed one eye to make the scoop of blue bubblegum line up perfectly beside the blue haired males head, shrugging as you grinned, “no particular reason. Just reminded me of something equally as tasty.”

It didn’t even take five seconds for him to understand what you meant. He furrowed his brows and used his free hand to shove your one away from his direction, his volume rising, “don’t mock me! You’re lucky I even came out here with you at all.”

You wanted to laugh in response but couldn’t when a cold, blue fluff bumped into your nose and staining it the treat’s respective colour. Then you laughed at that.

Your boyfriend looks with disbelief at how smiley you can be, knowing full well he would have yelled if he had been in your place, and groaned,“ugh, nothing comes easy with you.” He stepped closed to you, taking hold of your chin and bringing you towards him as he lowered his head down. It was obvious what he was going to do, yet your breath was caught due to the fact it was him of all people who would do it.

His tongue flicked out quickly to wipe away what was on your nose, luckily not much having been spread since gelato was much harder than typical ice cream. It felt warm and a sharp contrast to the chilled feeling on your nose, the sensation heating your face in no time. Still, you had to be immature.

“Eew, Ghia! That was so gross.”

That only made him fluster and back away quickly, his annoyed attitude masking hims embarrassment. “Shut up! Not like we had any napkins on us anyway.” Excuses.

Humming in agreement, you nodded,“yeah but still, it was gross. Kinda cute though.”

He made no effort in responding to you and shook his head, going back to eating his gelato. He really just goes in and bites it sometimes, huh? If you tried that, your front teeth would die from the cold and you’d have a certain brain freeze. Then again, you doubt Ghiaccio was even easily affected by the cold, what with how his stand worked.

It took a good while for the two of you to finish and once you had, you both decided that the better option was to return to Ghiaccio’s house seeing as there wasn’t much you two could do in the scorching heat, especially not without any complaints from a certain someone.

Walking home would be just as sweat inducing and long as it was to come here, and Ghiaccio was already pulling out the cloth from his pocket to wipe his glasses, yet you were still excited to try and link your pinkies and spend the whole time in your grump’s company.

#ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #jjba x reader #request #man says shut up too much #he do love u tho

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kathleen-meyer-lyme-survivor · 4 years

Text

DISCLAIMER: I have signed a waiver and become a contributor to an upcoming book by a fellow, healed Lyme patient. Some or all of this story may be published in the coming months. I have added and updated some of this information 9.12.2020, so hopefully I will not violate any copyright laws.

NOTE: Do not assume everything I write here or on my Facebook Lyme page will help. Everyone heals differently. Working with a knowledgeable, sincere doctor and finding the right combination of medication, herbs, personal lifestyle and diet changes will help. One size doesn’t fit all for Lyme disease treatments. Don’t be afraid to research and consult with your doctor. Get a notebook and write down EVERYTHING; diet, exercise, symptoms, dates, times, and ANY physical or emotional stress-causing events. Stress seems to be the biggest culprit of all diseases. Hypocrites stated, “All disease begins in the gut”. HE WAS RIGHT!!

NAME: Kathleen Meyer

I live in Northern VA. I am a retired, 60+ year old Grandmother. I am widowed, and I was living alone when Lyme hit. Symptoms began between September 12-14, 2012.

BACKSTORY: September 12, 2012. I felt something prick my lower back. When I reached around to check, the area was very hot to touch. This was in my car in Reston, Virginia, on a 90+ degree day. I had left the car windows open slightly during the work day.

The previous two weeks, I had been on vacation to the Pacific Northwest, to visit my Sister. While there, I visited a national park, which is highly populated by deer and other furry animals; large and small. There was hiking and a few photo ops while sitting on a rock wall. Deer roam around freely in the town where my Sister lives.

After going to my family doctor almost daily between 9/14-10/12 to complain of strange symptoms, I was finally tested for Lyme, West Nile virus and Rocky Mountain Spotted fever. My doctor was skeptical at first, but I kept insisting the symptoms weren’t normal for any flu I had ever had. When I mentioned living by woods and recently spending time in a national park, I was taken more seriously.

I was diagnosed with Lyme on October 12,2012, (clinically by relating symptoms) and blood work. Side note: Because I had Mono at age 18, I was also diagnosed with Mono “exposed”. I was instructed to go home, stay on bedrest and get clearance from an infectious disease doctor, before returning to work. I was on sick leave and coworker’s leave donations between 10/15-11/13/2012. I was also instructed NOT to work or look at work email while out sick; which I now understand completely. The philosophy seems to be, “Being out on sick leave means you’re too sick to be at work, so don’t try to do any work at home”. Never mind that after two weeks of bedrest, going stir crazy and wanting to do something, is very normal.

TREATMENTS: I was immediately placed on Doxycycline 200 mg, by the family doctor, for 20 days. That didn’t work. Then Doxycycline 200 mg for 10 days. When that didn’t work, there was 30 days additional. When I ran out, I waited between prescriptions about a week or two, to see if symptoms would come back. Symptoms kept coming back. I was on/off Doxycycline for a total of 60 days. My insurance company wouldn’t authorize more than 60 days, so I was given Cefuroxime 500 mg for 30 days.

NOTE: At the beginning of the Cefuroxime prescription I doubled the dose for the first 4 days, just to see what would happen. I realize that wasn’t a very smart thing to do, but I wanted to kill what was making me so sick. After the 4 days, I used the prescription correctly. At the end of the 30 days, no symptoms returned.

NOTE: I always eat yogurt in between any oral antibiotic dose. The reason is because all antibiotics kill all bacteria, including the beneficial bacteria we need in our gut, where the main part of the immune system is located. The other part of the immune system is our brain. The brain and gut communicate with each other UNLESS we have an illness like Lyme. The brain is affected and doesn't communicate correctly with the gut during Lyme, and probably during other autoimmune illnesses.

MYSTERIOUS SYMPTOMS BEFORE TREATMENT: High blood pressure, cardiomegaly, chronic bronchitis, prolapsed mitre heart valve, GERD, Barretts esophagus, large hiatal hernia. Other symptoms; short term memory issues, difficulty with vision, floaters, reading, sensitive to bright light and sunshine. Difficulty walking, bumping into walls, problems with grip and dropping things. Insomnia, sometimes several nights in a row. Constant buzzing, tingling, pain throughout my entire body. Chest pain, head and neck pain, difficulty with bowels, difficulty swallowing and anxiety from feeling so ill for no known reason, except Lyme. I was able to swallow correctly again, after an endoscopy and scraping of webbed growth (non-cancerous).

WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW: ALL doctors, nurses including E.R. personnel need to be made aware of how many hundreds of symptoms Lyme can have. It is known to mimic at least 400 other illnesses and syndromes. Millions of people worldwide are being mis-diagnosed or given catch-all diagnosis out of frustration. Doctors have about 15 minutes per patient and don’t have time to research and address everyone’s symptoms. More research is needed and the patient’s symptoms need to be taken more seriously. The phrase “The customer is always right”, needs to apply to patients as well. Haphazard treatment of symptoms and covering up symptoms DOESN’T WORK FOR LYME!!

NOTE: Most medical schools are funded by big pharma. They do not provide enough education to upcoming doctors about Lyme and similar illnesses. They don’t stress enough on nutrition or healthy eating as a benefit to patients. I have asked my doctors and chiropractor about this, and they said the same thing.

Do NOT listen to any doctor who tells you your child has “Growing Pains”. Find a doctor who is knowledgeable about Lyme, preferably a young doctor with a growing family of his/her own. My family doctor diagnosed and treated me correctly, was THAT doctor, not a specialist, a general practitioner.

HOW HAS LYME CHANGED MY LIFE; GOOD AND BAD: Lyme caused me to be bedridden for over 3 weeks, afraid to drive for fear of getting lost, and feeling like I had early onset Alzheimer’s. I now feel that it was an eye-opening experience, which awakened me to how poorly I had been managing my diet and exercise on a daily basis. I also believe the 2012 influenza shot might have been flawed, because I never felt healthy after that, and it possibly weakened my immune system so Lyme and Mono could sneak in.

I went from quick and easy meals and very little exercise to self-improvement. I learned from the Lyme pages on Facebook from reading other people’s stories. It was almost like putting a really large jigsaw puzzle together, very slowly and not having all the pieces in front of me.

SOMETHING I DO NOW THAT I NEVER DID BEFORE LYME: I now pay closer attention to my physical and emotional health, what foods I eat and the amount of daily exercise I get. I also developed pre-diabetes type 2 during the Lyme period. I am now eating real food and watching my weight in order to keep the pre-diabetes under control, without medication.

NOTE: Doctor’s won’t tell you unless you press them, that medication for everything is NOT the best way to control anything, because you’re stuck on the medication for the rest of your life. Our bodies are capable of healing, with help by US.

THE MOST FRUSTRATING PART OF LYME DISEASE: I would have to say, lack of compassion for what patients are going through on the part of medical professionals, insurance companies, news media, and the general public. “Take these pills and you’ll feel better”. This doesn’t work with Lyme disease; trust me. However, I know many people who believe everything their doctor says and I hear, “My doctor says it’s__________. More research is needed and the actual CAUSE should be researched and treated instead of pills to cover up underlying symptoms.

MY BIGGEST SUPPORTER(S): I have a private Facebook page called “Where is Lyme Disease”, which has 249 members. I consider all of them to be my supporters; we support each other. I have been posting there since March, 2015, before any of us realized Lyme is EVERYWHERE!! I HAVE POSTED HOW I TREATED, HEALED AND WHAT I AM DOING NOW TO STAY HEALTHY. Those answers were not readily found using an internet search in 2012. Everything I post on the page is from what I went through. I am trying to help others with Lyme get through it and not give up.

I give all credit to healing to authors of books about Lyme struggles. There are too many to mention, but “Cure Unknown” by Pamela Weintraub was the best one. I read it several times, because the first time I tried to read, the words ran together and blurred because of Lyme. I am now able to read again, and have re-read several books I couldn’t comprehend before. If there’s a diagnosis of ADD or ADHD, suspect Lyme!!

BIGGEST DAILY STRUGGLE: Praying it never comes back and thanking God for every day which I am granted. Experimenting with different diet plans and keeping healthy. Getting away from white sugar, white flour and other overly processed, easy to fix foods and getting real food into my body is a daily challenge.

Continuing to learn about and helping others deal with Lyme. I have helped quite a few people NOT give up. I wish I could help everyone or was a millionaire so I could donate money for a cure.

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incarnateirony · 5 years

Photo

In the “Highlighting Fandom Absurdity” series, as people still are in meltdown mode over common sense issues in 15.10, while lockpicking was briefly mentioned -- despite my own roadster experience, I can’t quite expect everybody to have picked a great deal of locks in their lives. What they can vouch to, however, is cooking.

The amount of things that make perfect sense with even the vaguest modicum of adult-ish life-ish experience-ish, that this fandom acts baffled over, and makes giant fits about, is somewhat highlighted by this collage. Go ahead, blow it up, scroll around. If you complained about the cooking stuff, please, by all means, feel embarrassed. (For those limited by mobile, I’ll even give an easy access link that’s enlargeable [x])

I’m still waiting for anyone, anywhere, to get back to me picking a padlock or set of handcuffs with nails of either size (medium-large for 5.04 [view for reference], giant galvinized spike for 15.10). Because of “skill” difference, you have no time limit, but are forbidden from complaining or making noises of confusion about it until you successfully achieve it. You are free to google as many lockpicking tips as you want. I’ll hear from you NEVER.

(I shouldn’t have to say this, but executive functions of this fandom on recent display minded, PLEASE do not handcuff yourself with actual locked cuffs and only a bigassed nail to pick it [or even with the nearby keys], without a friend or family member on standby to unlock you when you inevitably fucking can’t even after a day of stubbornness or whatever the fuck.)

(Psssst here’s what happens with lockpicking if you use your brain-case instead of your stan-space.)

Because that’s the goddamn point, people.

But sure. People can’t even “figure out” daily fucking life functions or toddler-toy-level square peg in a round hole shit that any breathing person over the age of 10 has experienced or witnessed, because HOW DARE their characters not be perfect, but you’re going to argue with them about nuanced storytelling and use their false hysteria and manufactured TV ignorance in-name-of-standom as your bar of what the fuck the literal text is literally saying about any given fucking thing. Gay shit. General shit. Common sense fucking shit.

And that’s. The god. Damn. Tea.

But lemme tell you something-- lemme tell you something--

If you subscribe to some fandom “Thinker”, or Meta Person, or whatever the fuck that couldn’t apply any of this basic, nascent human reasoning to the text at hand, I would instead highly suggest you begin thinking for yourselves. Cuz some shit, some where, is very obviously broken.

Stop being swept in by people with bullshit agendas.

Everyone has something to sell you, even me. In my case, I peddle common fucking sense, production and corporate knowledge and study, Fandom history for perspective, LGBT cinema history, a side dose of esoteric occult shit (and it’s partner, my semi-famous Plot Magic 8Ball), openly available learning compendiums about any of these for you to actually read and learn it for yourselves instead of having shit redefined for you by sparklecestfw dot tumblr dot com, and the potential liberty to enjoy the show like you used to when you were in the GA before you entered this shithole and got gaslit and grandstanded over about what the GA thinks until beaten into submission. Take it or leave it.

But if you’re gonna leave it, you can leave my blog, because that’s all you’re going to find here. And, well, overt mockery of people who reject the “common sense” part, because this fandom has gone far too long with letting lunacy veil itself as dialogue deserving platform or consideration. That’s why we’re here: with people “confused” by common life events or that Big Thing Can Not Enter Much Less Delicately Manipulate Tiny Hole Without TV Magic Literally Textually Explained As God. It’s up to you if internet tribalism, or common sense readings of the overt and blatant text at hand to enjoy the show are what you are here for. If you’re here for petty internet tribalism, let’s stop pretending you’re here for actual fanning or fandom, and I really, really don’t need you here.

I’m not gonna mollycoddle anybody. I’m not going to take the world’s dumbest take and pat the person on the head and go “I understand your point of view and your opinion is valid” when literal children could understand most of this shit better than people pretend to not for the sake of making noise and finding the newest shit to be upset about or stir the pot about. Yes, this bullshit dialogue SHOULD disappear. Yes, they SHOULD be embarrassed for even acting like this big of a fucking clown in public, and I don’t mean the shipping kind, I mean legit fucking dumb bullshit clownery that people pretend is rational or relevant to what we’re looking at.

If people’s bitterness, or Secret Mystical Knowledge Key is all they have to sell you, because they want platform and relevance -- think about that. Real fuckin’ hard. At least my blog is willing to go against the grain and say I don’t give a FUCK who unfollows me because they don’t like common sense instead of patting someone on a head and going “gee you know I understand why you are confused that a 120mmd object can’t fit in a 5mmd hole! *gives a gold star and encourages to wank into the wind*”. I shouldn’t even have to enter these things into discussion, and yet here we are. So ask yourself why they do what they do, and say what they do, when far less convoluted options are right fucking there.

(Hint: If these people stopped feeding bitterness, and stopped convincing you that you need the secret gay meta key, or even in case of overt antis stopped pretending to be blind deaf and explosively stupid about certain shit, what would these people have left)

#supernatural #spn #text #subtext #canon #cooking #15.10 #absurd #literally #what the fuck people #meta adjacent #my meta

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queensgaybeach1d · 5 years

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Hiya love, how are you? Lately I've been thinking a lot about Larry and all the other 1D ships. I know it's very possible that Larry is real, there are so many facts that hint to it being real, but 1D doesn't really exist anymore and the boys moved on. We haven't seen H and L in the same room since Lou's X Factor performance in 2016. I don't know if they really could sneak around without being seen considering how famous they are. [1] tbc

[2] And as much as I love the idea of Larry being a thing I still have my doubts. Babygate has been going on for 4 years now, it’s hard to believe that Louis would fake paternity for so long. Maybe he just fucked up and drunkenly hooked up with Briana, resulting in her getting pregnant? And the older Freddie gets the more he looks like Louis (I know you don’t believe this, trust me I don’t want to believe it either). tbc

[3] This whole thing just messes with my head. I miss fetus Larry when they openly joked around with each other and randomly hugged each other. But as the years went on they interacted with each other less. Harry went out with beautiful women, Louis has been in longterm relationships (fake or not doesn’t matter) and they don’t even acknowledge each other anymore. How can I still believe in them after everything that happened since 1D went on hiatus? tbc

[4] Ugh I’m just so frustrated. Sorry for spamming your inbox, I hope you don’t mind. I just needed to get this off my chest. Have a nice day! xoxo

——————————————————————————————————

Hi my rose,

How are you? I am doing fine. My apologies for not answering your question as soon as possible. I just saw it in my inbox. ;)

My heart just broke in two pieces when you wrote that 1D have moved on and are not together, they are, love. I definitely think they will reunite within the next two/three years and not for a final performance, but as the gorgeous band they are.

I do not think you (and many more people) understand how sly the media actually is. So If you are okay with it I will give you a few examples. When Louis travels to visit his sisters in Doncaster, where are our pictures? Nowhere to be seen. When Louis travels with is beard, where are the pictures? Everywhere, plus a double doses of headlines the next day. Louis went to an animal sanatorium with his sisters. Tons of people go there, why did the paparazzi not picture him there? Back in 2012 Louis and Eleano were ‘visiting’ (stunting) Disneyland. There was even a video of some bodyguards telling girls to stop taking pictures. Still, we got tons of hq paparazzi pics from them in Disneyland. Where is the privacy then? They try to make them look all private, but they ruin it on the other side again. Lots of people go to the animal sanatorium too, but no fan gave their location, no fan took a picture and no paparazzi was there.

People call paparazzi, because of money. They want to show off a certain brand or they want to be seen in public with someone else to get relationship rumors spread about them. All of this happens. There was even this one paparazzi picture in which Louis looked so cute and next to him there was a huge sign. On the sign was written that paps were not allowed in that area. I can not find the picture, right now but I will add it to the post if I find it. (I found it)

Moving on, there is something you also need to know. The celebrity does not hire the paparazzi in 1D’s case. The label does that, the boys told us themselves about their ‘freedom’. They could not dye their hair, be chubby and grow their facial hair. Think about this, do you genuinely think that the boys could and would call the paparazzi on themselves? They complain day and night about them and rightly so. The only celebrities who would do such a thing are The Kardashians.

So in short: they can move around in private without paparazzi following them. It happens daily. Where has Niall been this week? Did he not go outside? Yes he did, but no paparazzi was called on him. Imagine that in some different universe paparazzi would actually follow them everywhere, how about private doors, they could dress up as different people. There are endless possibilities, but still they get papped. That is not right.

Babygate is indeed going on for a long long time. People start to doubt it, something I indeed do not understand. I have made a post about it too. I do not think you should think something is real because it lasts so long, when there is proof that her bump is fake. That has been proven, multiple times. Why would she actually steal Amberfillerups pictures? If someone could please give me a solid answer to those question and more. Look love, Brianas whole pregnancy could have been real, but I would still not believe the kid is Louis’. I am not believing a man like Louis compared him to a dog, said he was not really excited with the baby etc.

Also love, it is not that I do not want to believe that Freddie ‘looks like him’. I just do not believe it, nor do I see it at all. It feels like you think that I am lying to myself, and believe me I am way to old to fool myself like that. Like, even if someone would point a gun to my head and tell me to believe it, I would still say ‘’No NO NO NO’’ it is just a big NO to me. I have not thought for a second that it was Louis’ baby, but I think it is difficult for you to understand it if you think these things are not possible. The kind of fear they put into you. You could check out my tag #pr industry or #music industry. Not to mention Louis not cooperating with the stunt at all.

Honey, stuff like this do not exist because he was joking. It exists because he is trying to tell them something. Everyone can literally see that this is a fake doll. Everyone. Remember that in 2012 a doll was also tossed on stage with ‘’Larry’s love child’’ on it and Louis did NOT toss it away. He put it next to him without reassuring it was a fake doll, everyone can see that. He also wore a MJ shirt for a teaser. The shirt has something to do with Billy Jean.

I miss 2011/2012 1D more and more each day. They were pure and real. It is unfortunate and weird that they can not do that stuff in public anymore. That can never ever happen because of the Larry rumors. I do think you know how I debunk those fake relationships that is why I did not go to much into it.

The answer to your question is quite easy, my love. Look between the lines. There have been gorgeous 2019 Larry moments. If you would like to check it out: https://queensgaybeach1d.tumblr.com/post/185227803529/a-lot-of-people-have-been-saying-larry-broke-up

We indeed do not see them in public anymore, but patience is the key to all you want right? Just have patience and everything will be fine. That we do not see something does not mean that it is not there. We just see the part they (the label) want us to see.

It is okay, love. There is no need to worry. It is totally okay to ask me stuff like this. I love answering your questions. I hope you will have a nice week, my love. Thank you so much for the question, love. ;)

Little gift: If you know the history behind this picture, you are a blessed soul. If you do not know it you are still a blessed soul. (I would never want to wish someone a bad thing).

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violetsmoak · 5 years

Text

Pieces of April [16/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Author’s Note: Here’s your daily dose of JayTim and baby for your quarantine reading pleasure! Stay safe, wash your hands and support your local healthcare, waste management and retail workers!

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

The rest of the afternoon is spent on the phone, fielding calls from various departments and sorting out production complications. Interspersed are texts and Facebook messages from friends and family—Dick, wondering if dinner is still happening on Friday, Bruce wanting updates on the mob case, the Titans wanting to know if he’s coming to San Francisco that weekend—

Tim is evasive with all except the last one, informing Bart that there’s some family drama going on that will keep him home for a while. Once the speedster knows, everyone else will know, so it’s about as effective as sending a group text.

He resists the urge to phone Jason and see how he’s doing; he’s rather sure he won’t pick up.

(“I ain’t a damn kid that needs checkin’ up on, Drake.”)

Not that Tim is checking up on him. He just knows that whenever someone in the family is going through a personal crisis, that’s usually the time when Gotham’s rogues decide to act out.

So really, ensuring Jason’s stress levels stay manageable is a public service.

“Because that sounds like logic,” he chides.

Damian shows up around 3 o’clock and spends the next two hours alternatively disparaging everything about Tim from his too-long hair to how he organizes his filing system, to discussing WE resource allocation for an animal shelter he wants to open. The conversational whiplash is enough to make Tim’s head spin, and he makes a note in his phone to talk to Bruce about whatever it is that’s going on between them that’s so bad Damian prefers Tim’s company to his father’s.

Either Bruce put his foot down about another of Damian’s strays, or he still won’t agree that Robin should have a private prison to lock up rogues.

Whatever the reason, Tim is very much out of his depth at the youngest Bat’s newest tactics for taking his frustrations out on Tim.

Though I guess workplace inconveniences are a huge step up from swords to the gut. Could always be worse, I guess.

It turns out he’s not the only one learning new and interesting coping strategies. Upon arriving home at six, he finds Jason tweaking the tech in his gear on the kitchen table, baby carrier three feet away.

His entire body is tense, like a spring ready to snap.

“Was she up all day or something?” Tim asks on the way in, putting his bag on the floor and loosening his tie.

Jason shoots him a baleful look. “She’s been crying all day. And she’s still barely eating. I think she’s starting to look a little yellow—Tim, why is she yellow?”

And Jason sounds—dare he say it—almost frazzled.

Right. Time for more damage control.

“I’ve got her,” Tim says, easing into Jason’s personal space and taking the baby. “You go to sleep. Or shower. Or watch TV or something. You’re starting to go batty.”

That earns a disgusted look, and even Tim winces because that was just bad.

“Did you seriously just say that?” Jason asks.

“No, you’re sleep-deprived and hallucinated it,” he replies.

“I’ll allow it,” Jason says, yawning. “But only because it could be true.”

Jason shuffles off upstairs and Tim heaves himself onto the couch, pulling out his phone to check his usual online haunts for potential cases or clues for his current case. Social media and forums are pretty good sources once you learn how to weed out the sensationalist crap.

After thirty minutes of nothing, he gives it up and wanders over to the dwindling pile of baby items. Jason hasn’t returned yet, so he’s either passed out from exhaustion in the shower or actually made it to bed. Since Tim can’t hear the water running, he supposes it’s the latter.

It won’t kill me to go without the pre-patrol nap today, I guess.

Studying the pile, he notes that the boxes with the crib, changing table and whatever else needed assembly, have all gone missing. Presumably, Jason set those up this morning in a fit of boredom or paranoia.

The only things that haven’t been touched are the blankets, soft toys and garments, other than whatever Isa’s been changed into already.

There are only about twenty different pieces of clothing, and according to his not-so-new best friend the Internet, that’s not going to be nearly enough given infant propensity to upchuck. Especially since it’s not all the same size. Tam had to guess how big Isa was, so at least half the onesies here won’t fit her for another month or two, which isn’t supremely helpful for right now.

Back to fiddling with his phone, Tim goes online to order some more supplies and discovers, to his delight, that there’s an entire line of pop-culture related babywear. Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, Superhero logos…

He grins as he orders one of everything for next-day delivery, wondering whether Jason’s more likely to complain or find it funny.

Under normal circumstances, he’d probably find it funny. For someone else’s kid.

There’s still no sign of Jason after sunset, so Tim feeds and burps the baby, then sets up his laptop and tablet in the kitchen to check some of his surveillance feeds for the mob case. However, Isa protests every time he tries to put her down.

“What’s wrong with you now?” he asks. “You’re warm, you’re fed—” He takes a pause to check and change her diaper, during which time she continues to mewl at him, “—and you’re dry. Which means now’s the time you got to sleep, okay? New babies are supposed to do three things: eat, poop and sleep. So get on that.”

Once again he attempts to wrap her up and place her in her carrier, but the whimpering becomes flat-out crying, her tiny face becoming purple with rage and her eyes pinching shut.

“Okay, okay—putting you down is a no,” he sighs, tucking her back in his arms to rock her gently. He watches his computer monitor balefully, knowing if he’s holding the baby, there’s not going to be any hacking of Gotham’s CCTV tonight.

Could text Babs and ask her to do it. Except then she’ll want to know why.

Which is also a no.

One-handed, he searches out his phone again, looking up possible reasons for Isa’s current temper and potential solutions online. One thing jumps out at him and he brightens. A quick trip to the Nest and back, and he has what he was looking for.

Which is how Jason finds him when he finally comes back downstairs around eight o’clock, showered, rested and altogether more human-looking than what Tim came home to. He pauses at the foot of the stairs, squinting at Tim. “Is that your cape?”

“My cape is made out of state-of-the-art piezoelectric fabric substrates that can become a weapon with the right electrical frequency,” Tim retorts, trying not to feel entirely self-conscious from his seat at the kitchen table, wrapped in a makeshift mei-tai with Jason’s daughter drooling into his chest. “Also, that thing’s filthy.”

“And this is…?”

“My old cape,” Tim replies, going back to his computer. “Sometimes newborns just need to hear a heartbeat to calm them down. The best way is skin to skin, but I’m kind of in the middle of something, so this is the next best thing.”

Jason tilts his head to one side in consideration. “That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah, I looked it up online.”

“Of course you did,” Jason groans, rubbing his temple. “Because that’s what normal people do. I didn’t even think of it, I was too busy trying to get her to stop crying.” He huffs, almost rueful. “Why the hell am I surprised that you’re good at this? You’re good at friggen everything.”

Huh. A compliment. Those are almost as rare coming from Jason as they are from Damian. He must really be out of his comfort zone.

“Maybe it’s just because I have a certain measure of distance from it all,” Tim suggests, standing up to leave his temporary workstation. “If I suddenly found out I had a kid, I don’t know how I’d react.”

“Bull. You’re just like B. You’d just stick it in the back of your mind and forget about how to feel about it until you’re ready to deal.”

Tim feels a sudden flare of anger. “Is that actually how you think I am?”

“You going to tell me you’re not?” Jason challenges.

Tim opens his mouth to do exactly that, only to wrinkle his nose at the sudden stench arising from the lump of baby tucked against his chest.

“Ugh. Someone needs a change.”

Again. Guess I wasn’t so far off about the ‘eat, poop and sleep’ thing.

Jason snorts. “As far as conversation enders, that’s a pretty good one.”

Tim carefully unwinds the fabric from around his body and deposits the slowly waking baby into her father’s arms. “Tag.”

“You suck.”

“Serves you right for being a dick.”

He feels almost no guilt leaving Jason to deal with the soiled diaper and cranky baby this time, still smarting a bit about the resentful accusation that was lobbed at him.

Just because I can compartmentalize doesn’t mean I forget about things. Or that I don’t feel them.

He’s just not like Jason, or Dick, or Damian, who get angry and lash out as loudly and as viciously as they can. And he’s not like Bruce, either, since Bruce really can flip a switch and put something difficult out of his mind if it interferes with the all-important Mission.

Tim’s tried doing that, and as successful as he was in his quest to locate Batman when he was lost in the time stream, that period of Tim’s life was the most desperate and hopeless he’s ever felt. It was painful in a way that was different from losing his father, or Connor, or Bart—mostly because he was forced to bottle everything up to get the job done.

It was months after Bruce returned before Tim started processing things normally again.

Not that I should expect Jason to know that, he muses as he grapples through the rooftops of Gotham. He might know about me from my files and when we occasionally work together, but he’s never stuck around long enough to get to know anyone who came after him.

The night is at its darkest, cut through only by the Bat-signal in the distance. He won’t be running into Bruce tonight then unless the GCPD is bringing him in on the Gazzo case. It’s unlikely since there hasn’t been any retaliation yet. GCPD protocol dictates they’ll pass it off to Homicide until orders from on high turn it over to Major Crimes.

Red Robin ends up stopping two muggings and a drug deal before making his way to Gazzo territory to take some surveillance photos of his own. Security images are helpful in general, but he has camera tech that will let him focus on details the CCTV won’t pick up.

It’s another relatively early night for him, returning home just after midnight to upload his findings to the servers and shower off the grit and grime of the city.

The apartment is silent, and he expects Jason and Isa to be upstairs in the newly built nursery, but upon closing the secret door again, he notices the faint sound of breathing. Creeping over to the sitting room, he finds Jason passed out on the couch beside Isa’s carrier. The television is on but not showing any channel, instead casting a solid blue light across the room.

Tim can’t help noticing how Jason’s habitual frown has eased in slumber. There’s no trace of a sneer or growl on his lips right now, his mouth parted only to breathe.

He has never seen the older man like this.

There are pictures of him at the manor, of course, most of them hidden away in dusty boxes. It’s only recently they’ve started cropping up at the manor again, though Tim isn’t sure whether it’s Dick or Alfred that’s been putting them there.

Hell, maybe it is Bruce. It’s the exact kind of gesture he’d make to try to tell Jason he wants him around more, without actually having to tell him directly.

Whoever’s responsible for them, Tim’s memorized all of those photos. The boy in those is always grinning or making silly faces or not paying attention to the photographer because he’s busy doing something he shouldn’t be.

If there’s a picture of Jason looking so calm and peaceful, it’s hidden away in Bruce’s personal files where no one can find them.

Tim can sort of see why given how vulnerable his predecessor looks right now. This is the Jason that Bruce remembers, the one he’s built up in his memory that’s different from the Jason once enshrined in the much-maligned class case in the Cave. This is the Jason Bruce is trying to find whenever he squares off with Red Hood and mourns as lost when he can’t find him.

Which is stupid since he’s still right here. I wonder if anyone else will ever realize that?

Tim decides not to wake Jason; he might have been a jerk before, but he should sleep while he can.

Instead, he settles in on the other couch with his laptop to review the surveillance shots he took himself and from the security feeds. If he can figure out just which of these mobster muscle heads is the easiest to break, he can get a better idea of what might have happened to the teenager in concrete.

I’ll just do a quick scan tonight, and study them in more detail tomorrow.

Of course, as usual, he gets invested in his work and doesn’t look up again until about four o’clock, when Isa’s sharp cry pieces the silence. Tim jumps, having completely forgotten her presence, but that’s nothing on Jason, who vaults upward from his spot on the couch, body tense and prepared to react to whatever caused the noise, friend or foe.

His hand is already reaching for a gun—one that Tim is thankful to see is no longer there.

“It’s okay, it’s just time for the next feeding,” he says quietly, trying to sound both casual and soothing at the same time. Based on the bleary look he’s getting from Jason, he’s less than successful.

Jason glares at his empty hand, clenched as if to hold onto something, and Tim must be on the verge of falling asleep himself because for a moment he imagines he can see the outline of a sword.

Great. Hallucinations. Tomorrow’s going to be a triple-shot of espresso day, I can tell.

And it’s suddenly occurring to him that babies and their sudden loud noise-making skills might not be the best thing for someone that’s suffered the kinds of trauma Jason has.

He makes up a mental note to look up some strategies for that. He’s not quite sure how he’ll bring up the subject with Jason. While Jason is adamant that Tim’s the most like Bruce, when it comes to avoiding problems, he’s the one that has more in common with the man.

For now, he decides to just act as normal.

“You know there’s a perfectly good bed upstairs?” he quips. “Thousand thread count, fluffy pillows, solid mattress…”

“Shut up. I was watching something. Guess I fell asleep.” Jason swings around and makes a move toward the baby, but Tim makes a motion to stop him.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got it.”

“You already took her when you got back.”

“How do you know? You were sleeping?”

“I was resting my eyes.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Go to sleep or you’ll be face-planting in your coffee tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine, I—"

“This isn’t your responsibility, Replacement. Go to bed—I’ll handle this.”

Jason is clearly not someone to be reasoned with when sleep-deprived; Tim always suspected that, of course, but he’s never had the up-close-and-personal experience. It doesn’t make him any less frustrated.

“The whole point of you staying here is for me to help,” he reminds him. “So would you just accept it already?”

“You’re also the one with a nine-to-five job and actually need the friggen sleep.”

Tim grimaces. “Fine. But I’m going to make up a schedule for us tomorrow so we can divide the babysitting more equitably.”

“You do that, boy scout. Why don’t you make a chore-wheel while you’re at it?” Jason jeers, taking the baby and heading for the kitchen. “This isn’t kindergarten.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tim shoots back, scowling in frustration.

Just for that, I will make one. See if I don’t.

⁂⁂⁂

Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!

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#jaytim #timjay #babyfic #kidfic #slow build #slow burn #tim drake #jason todd #bringing up baby #baby isa #toddlet #adulting #slice of life

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morethanithoughtofficialblog · 5 years

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Chapter 8: I’m a simple human, nothing more than that.

In which you almost cried in a friend’s house

*Your POV*

I had to go to the doctor to see if my injury wasn't anything serious.

Turns out it was.

He had to put twenty-five stitches on my fingers. Obviously not twenty-five on each of them, of course not. They were twenty-five in total...

Wow, you are such an idiot. Who the fuck punches a mirror?! You'll probably feel worse than before...

And that was true.

The doctor recommended me to avoid any activities involving my fingers. That practically is avoiding any activity at all. But I, being the stubborn woman I am, won't listen to this suggestion he made, although it sounded more like an order. Still, I can't quit my job just because I did something stupid.

So I arrived at my messy apartment, angrier with myself than before. I felt like trash. But, after seeing the pleased and happy faces of all those people, I feel like I can't give up. So I'll continue living...

For now, of course.

I changed into my pajamas and sat on the couch. I surely don't want to go to my room yet, remembering what happened yesterday. Or today. Whatever.

When I was scrolling through the channels my phone buzzed, and I took it without hesitation. I watched TV a bit before checking the notification but I got bored and decided to see it.

Sans: hey

Sans: can i ask u something???

Well, that was new. Sans had never messaged me before; or well, at least not in private. After all, he did say a few jokes and puns to me especially, but only in the chat group with everyone else.

You: Go ahead

I silently prayed for it to don't be something related to my past or my backstory. It's really complicated and hurtful to explain; maybe it wouldn't make me cry, but it would definitely make me uncomfortable.

Please, not about me. Please, not about me. Please, not about me. Please, not about me. Please, not about me. Please, not about me. Please, not about me. Please, not about me.

Please, not about me-

Sans: i noticed an injury on ur right fingers today

Sans: wanted to make sure what happened

...phew.

Still, I couldn't just tell this guy that I punched a freaking mirror. He would probably block me and stare at my soul whenever we would meet. And it was for a fact that I will see him more, so...

You: Oh, about that...

You: It was an accident

Wow, that didn't look suspicious at all.

Sans: really?

You: Yeah, pretty much me being stupid

At least you didn't lie this time.

Sans: oh

Sans: it wasn't somethin' serious, tho?

You: A bit

Sans: stitches?

Wait, why does he know about stitches? He doesn't even need them!

You: Actually, yes

Why did you say that?! You are supposed to keep it a secret!

...

Even if he was going to find out anyway...

Sans: oh shit

Sans: how many?

Well, it's not like it's there any point in lying...

You: Twenty-five

Sans: jesus, what did u do?

Sans: r u ok now, tho?

You: Pretty much

Sans: well, that's good, kiddo

I'm fucking twenty-

Sans: welp, that's all i wanted to know

Sans: srry if i bothered ya

You: Nonsense!

You: That's actually really nice of you!

You: I mean, to actually care enough to ask

Sans: eh, it's nothin'

Sans: i was goin' to ask ya there, but thought it would be better in...

Sans: private?

You: I understand; talking about someone's injuries it's not that great of a topic.

You: It would have been catastrophic if Mrs. Dreemurr or Mrs. Arial knew

Sans: yeah

Sans: welp

Sans: i should go by now

You: I bet

You: Have a good night, Sans

Sans: you too, (l/n)

It was quite a conversation, I must say. I mean; Sans called me by my last name at the end, which it's weirdly formal. And, out of all the people, he was the one who asked. Maybe he was the only one that noticed something odd on my hand, but I highly doubt it. It was visibly out of place.

Or well.

At least for a human.

It's hard to remember that we don't have the same problems, physically talking. Some of the monsters that confuse me the most are the skeletons and the fish-like. How could skeletons feel anything at all? One day I heard Arial complaining about how hot the day was, and that's... weird. How Undyne can breathe? She's out of the water! Unless she has lungs...

But wait- skeletons don't have lungs...

This is confusing as fuck.

How could Sans have noticed something odd to my hand, though? It's either he had seen it before on Frisk, or he actually researches a lot about humans. That would be weird as well. I mean, it would be like he had a human fetish. And that's scary.

I'm making him sound like he's a fucking rapist.

I felt shivers down my spine and quickly shook my head. It was disturbing to think like that, to say the least. I don't think someone like Sans could have such a guilty pleasure.

But maybe he's just like me.

I mean- not as a fetish! But more like... curiosity. After all, I do have my doubts about monsters. I just made some five minutes ago. So he has all the right to know about humans as I do about monsters. Or maybe we don't. But hey, how a freak can judge another?

...

Did I just call Sans a freak? I barely know the guy, for God's sake!

I felt worse, naturally. I would apologize to him, but he doesn't know that I called him a freak. He doesn't need to know, either.

As much as I wanted to avoid it, I had to enter my bedroom eventually. This night, though, I decided to take a sleeping pill. And just like that, I was knocked out on my bed, forgetting that my daily dose should be a quarter of a pill.

Good thing I have an alarm, or else I would have been on dreamland forever. Well, I don't remember what I dreamed, but that's not the point. The thing is that I have work to do, so I can't sleep all day.

And so I got ready and went to work, taking the subway like every day. And, for my surprise, I saw a family of monsters hanging out on the subway station. I smiled, knowing that now they can take public services.

I arrived and went straight for a cup of coffee and a mini donut. Miracle there was any food to eat with the coffee; good thing they actually had coffee and not water. I need my drug to start the day. Always.

Such a coincidence I was listening to that song: 'Always' by Bon Jovi. Such a nice and romantic ballad, cheesy and totally different from what I use to hear. But hey, whenever it's a rock classic, I have a reason to listen to it. Especially if it is a ballad of Bon Jovi. They are just unique.

Fun thing: I was listening also to a song called 'Unique', by Lenka. It's not a classic; it isn't even Rock N' Roll, but I like the calm and cheery tone it has. The lyrics have a direct and almost literal meaning, and it's really positive.

The group of monsters arrived, then we headed out of the building.

Yep.

Work wasn't in my office.

Everyone took their money and belongings with them. We went to a near bank and I made all the changes in their currency to make them dollars. We had agreed that every 'Gold' would be a dollar. 1 for 1. (I remembered a song again. I shouldn't be talking about my whole playlist)

They ended up with a good amount of money. Well, a lot. Some of them had sold their houses in the Underground, so they had even more money. Now, who bought their houses? God knows- that's the answer.

So some of them bought a house. Like, today. This totally surprised me, considering how much time I spent searching for a new place to live, that it's a small apartment. And now they have houses. HOUSES, FOR GOD'S SAKE!

Calm the fuck down, (Y/N) (L/N).

...(L/N).

That kinda reminded me about my conversation with Sans. I glanced down at him and saw that he was talking to an excited Papyrus.

"You look happy" I bluntly said, facing towards him. I froze but quickly relaxed, watching his smile growing bigger.

"aren't i always happy?" he answered, winking an... "eye".

"I mean, for real" I muttered, but I was conscious that he heard me since he stared at me in shock "Shit, I'm sorr-"

"you could say i feel happier. i, after a long time, have a bit of hope about the future-"

"YES HUMAN!" Papyrus shouted, smiling excitingly "SANS HAS BEEN DOING GREAT! HE'S BEEN WAY MORE POSITIVE SINCE YOU SHOWED UP, AND THAT'S A HUGE PROGRESS!"

He isn't that positive, huh? We may be really similar, then.

I could see why he was more positive, though; he got a house for his family, and that feeling is simply amazing. Well... I suppose it must be incredible. I haven't bought a familiar house, but when I got the keys to my apartment, it sure felt great. It must feel similar, if not better.

But he was eager about something else as well, noticing the look he gave to a bookstore. That really caught me off guard, not seeing him as the type to read a lot. Maybe I shouldn't be judging the poor guy just yet. He seems nice to this point, and that's it.

We finished our journey at the new and huge house of the Dreemurr family, everyone feeling like little kids. And with everyone, I include myself. I honestly forgot my problems for a bit and I was hoping to see how these guys reached their dreams eventually.

It's just a matter of time.

"How about if you stay as well, (Y/N)?" Frisk asked with a smile, snapping me back at reality. Wait, WHAT?!

"S-stay?!" I asked amazed, not believing what my ears were hearing. Why would they want me to stay?!

"YEAH! WE WILL HAVE A HUGE SLEEPOVER IN WHICH EVERYONE WILL PARTICIPATE!" Papyrus exclaimed, eyeing Sans and Dr. Gaster there for a second.

"Uh... I don't know..." I started, trying to dismiss the topic. And as expected, I failed.

"it's really late now, kiddo. from what you have told me, it's not good to leave at this time. less if you're a girl" Sans cleverly argued, using my words of that telephonic conversation.

Goddang it, Sans.

"...are you sure?"

"totally"

"Well, if you really want me here..."

Everyone smiled, even that freaking flower (though I bet he won't admit it). I felt a nostalgic wave hit me, but I hold the tears.

You can always cry at night, (Y/N)...

Except that tonight you can't, if you plan to stay.

Shit. If I had grabbed along my pills, it would have been easier. Hopefully, this so-called sleepover would last until morning. Maybe then I'll pass out.

That means no coffee, though.

Shit.

However, it wasn't as bad as I thought. All of them were super nice, and even shy Napstablook opened up once in a while. I felt really welcomed by most of them, making jokes and thanking me for what I've done.

Even if it was really nothing.

"So (Y/N)..." The sassy robot asked, making a fake hum of curiosity... that makes me feel curious as well. "How is your love life, darling?"

I don't think I should tell this guy I'm lonely as fuck...

"Pretty much dead, honestly" I simply answered, trying not to get into details.

"Oh. Did a bastard just left you?"

I don't think I should tell this guy I've always been lonely as fuck.

"Eh... sure"

"That didn't sound too believable, (Y/N)!" Frisk pouted, getting into the conversation without anyone minding her opinion.

...that was rude.

"YES HUMAN! YOU DIDN'T SOUND TOO CONVINCING!" Papyrus exclaimed, making my heart skip a beat for a second at how loud his voice is. I need to get used to this. "...OR DO YOU RATHER NOT TALK ABOUT IT?"

It would have been useless if I lied, knowing how little experienced I am about the topic. They would find out sooner or later that I was a fat ass liar, just trying to fit in and failing miserably. So instead of taking that risk, I decided to take another.

"Actually... my love life has always been dead..."

Mettaton almost choked in the glass of... an unknown drink he was... drinking?

How does he fucking drink, though?

"Darling, what the hell?!" He exclaimed with a remarkable tone of indignity in his voice, gaining the attention of the others in the room... who weren't paying attention before. Oh my god, why?! "We need to get you a date! Like, NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Eh... what about no?" I answered, trying my best to escape. And, as expected...

I failed.

"WHAT ABOUT YESSSSSS??????????????????????????" He snapped back annoyingly, making me feel like the stupidest person on Earth. Maybe I would have really lied if I knew he would be like this about my non-existent love life.

"Me-mettaton" Alphys intervened, with an instant look of regret after spitting out that word. Please save me. "I do-don't think you should judge her that easily. I mean, everyone has their reasons. I bet she does as well"

"...fine!" He sassily exclaimed, faking their annoyance "Just don't say that I, an expert in love lives, didn't try to help!"

ohmygodthankyou

"...sure thing, Mettaton" I sighed, mostly in relief "Sure thing"

And so the night continued, not without me being able to avoid all their questions. I was okay with telling them about the surface, but my life... now that's another thing. People say I should be proud of what I've done, either in school and work, but it's hard for me to see it that way. And so my pride is substituted by doubts and insecurity, feeling not good enough. Because maybe if I tell them too much about me, they would not like me anymore (if they ever did, in the first place). And even if it's really selfish, I enjoyed their company more than anything in ages.

And I didn't want it to stop.

My time there was pleasant until it was 1 am. Frisk and Papyrus were seemingly tired, and Sans added that "his brother would get cranky without his bed story" or something like that. I felt a rush of panic hit me like a brick, realizing that it would be impossible for me to sleep at this hour.

And knowing that I couldn't do my nightly shenanigans made me feel worse.

Panic, then, was starting to get mixed up with anxiety, while the others were discussing who should get the couch-

wait a minute.

"Uh... I can sleep on the couch if you want me to" I interrupted, hoping that this would be a good idea.

A lot of the people arguing told me countless times I shouldn't take the couch since I was "the guest", but my insistence and my insecurities were way stronger than all of their goodwill combined.

Or maybe not, but the point is that I won.

Everyone went to sleep, some of them even hugged me before leading to their temporary rooms. I smiled, feeling happy...

Wow. Never thought I would use that word again.

Don't get me wrong, my life it's not that shitty. I mean, if we get ourselves more reasonable, at least I'm not in the middle of nothing dying from starvation and from having a fucked-up mind. That's something I should really feel thankful for, except for that last part, since my mind it's actually a huge mess.

Still, I can't consider myself being happy. Or more like... satisfied? Yeah, that must be. I've always been exigent with myself, feeling the pressure of keeping people's expectations high. I don't want to fail them. I don't want them to see me how I see myself. That's why I smile, I laugh and even cry when I don't want to.

To feel more human.

To feel sane.

To keep moving on.

Because I know that other people might need my help in, well, anything! I just can't give up if people in worse situations haven't. That would just make me look and feel worse.

But it's really worth living just for the others and not for myself?

I mean, it's not like I'm completely selfless. I consider myself really selfish at some points. Because I also do things to keep myself sane, to keep myself out of trouble, and hell, to even keep myself out from the death list.

I'm scared of death, no doubt about it. I'm scared of letting go before I find someone that truly cares about me...

...maybe I should listen to Mettaton. But a broken heart would be unbearable to me. Falling in love is a risk I can't take, less if I'm in this state.

I mean, look at me! I've been diagnosed with anxiety, depression, and a high fucking IQ which I'm not proud of at all! I question reality often, I doubt how capable I am to do even the simplest of tasks, and I can't even establish a normal conversation without freaking out! I sometimes even ask myself if I don't have schizophrenia, for God's sake!

My mind went blank when I felt a tear rolling down my cheek. That warm and familiar feeling made me want to scream and punch a fucking mirror again. I contained myself, though, when I see in the darkness the green couch I was laying on.

I couldn't make them worry about me.

I just couldn't.

And so I softly removed the tears from my face and shut my eyes, not before noticing a blanket that, as far as I could remember, I never grabbed...

#sans x reader #more than i thought fanfiction #more than i thought #chapter 8 #sans #x reader #undertale

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selfwrittenstars · 6 years

Text

Larry fanfiction masterpost

Some of my favourite long fics that I’ve come across during the many hours that I’ve spent reading (if I’m not mistaken they all are at least 90k words long).🌈💝💛💚💜💙

1) Dress you up in my love.

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6135802/chapters/14060698

Summary: Harry is single, and more than anything wants to find love. Agreeing to sign up to a dating website was a bad, bad idea. Niall’s bad, bad idea. Louis is single, but has no interest in relationships. Or so he tells himself.   Harry is a lawyer whose boss, Nick, happens to give him a bonus, which he decides to splurge on a new work wardrobe. Louis is a frustrated designer, working as a personal shopper at Selfridges. Louis happens to be working on the day a very beautiful, but out of his depth, new customer ambles into their department in need of advice. Louis might have just found the muse he never knew he was looking for.

2) Shake me down

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322

Summary: Harry’s new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.

3) Fading

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/629683/chapters/1138549

Summary: Louis knows about beauty; the combination of qualities that pleases the aesthetic senses. He creates that combination every day in the garments he designs while studying fashion at uni. The cut of the design, the color of the fabric, the intricacy of the stitching; it all comes together to create something beautiful. When the science student with the long legs and dimpled smile agrees to model for him, Louis decides he’s found beauty personified. Harry just thinks Louis needs someone to show him how beautiful he is.

4) And then a bit

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1415272/chapters/2972746

Summary: “We’d like to give the fans what they want.” Magee states, placing his hand on the table in front of him and leaning forward. “We want to give them Larry Stylinson.” Or, take a parallel universe where Louis and Harry were never together, mix in a two year hiatus and an impending comeback, pour in a dash of lost fans, two tablespoons of strong friendship and a Modest! employee with a good idea. Add a squeeze of pretending to be a couple, lots of kisses and a tattoo or two. Stir. Serve: the mother of all publicity stunts. (aka Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.)

5) Young & beautiful

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/838537/chapters/1597776

Summary: Louis, to his horror, attends an elitist university in which the name Zayn Malik means something, Niall Horan doesn’t stop talking, there are pianos everywhere, and Harry Styles, only son of a drug-addled, clinically insane ex-rocker, has a perfect smile and empty eyes.

6) You are in love

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5299295/chapters/12594848?view_adult=true

Summary: The one to cry your eyeballs out. Harry is first with Xander Ritz. Larry go from friends, to something more than friends, to lovers, to something more than friends, to nothing, to lovers again. Uni AU.

7) Nobody shines the way that you do

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/3374579/chapters/7381043

Summary: “We might as well just date.”Harry froze in his arms, his body stilled as he slowly lifted his head up at Louis to give him the most confused expression he’d ever worn. Louis literally wanted to fuck him into the next century. “What?” Harry asked. “Are you–.”“No,” Louis said, shaking his head before Harry could go far with that idea and trap Louis into confessing his own feelings. “I mean…like I think I have a plan?”“A plan?” Harry said slowly. “A plan other than me going to Peter’s tomorrow and groveling for hours; maybe even days?”The thought of Harry doing that made Louis’ skin burn, but he schooled his expression well and nodded swiftly. “There will be no groveling. Well, there will be, but not on your end.”orLouis pretends to be Harry’s boyfriend to help him win back his douchebag ex-boyfriend, but things don’t go according to plan.

8) Empty skies

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1261096/chapters/2599474

Summary: For three years, Harry has been running from his past. Now, he is moving to London and pledges to fulfil his only dream – making it big in the music industry. Not everyone has a place, though, and the competition is tough. As is his past catching up on him.Louis is part of the biggest boy band of the world, and getting there had meant a lot of hard work, as well as sacrificing parts of his heart and soul. He’s still happy. Maybe not as happy as he could be, but who is he to complain?Featuring Perrie as Harry’s adorable flatmate, Niall as his manager, and Liam and Zayn as Louis’ bandmates. ESCAPADE

9) In circles of you and me

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12266679

Summary: Louis pulls Harry closer by the belt loops. Harry could feel his breath warm against his neck as he brushes his lips against his skin. “You know… I don’t care if you kiss other people.” Harry smiles as he feels Louis’ stubble scratch against his neck. “I know you don’t, but-”He stifles a moan as Louis bites down gently on the soft surface of his skin. “You can kiss other people too-” Louis pauses to look at him pointedly. “I know I can.”“Well, have you?” Harry asks, his brows furrowed. “What’s it to you?” Louis retorts with a smirk. “You’re the one I’m kissing now.”–Or, Louis and Harry keep running into each other at parties. It doesn’t mean anything, until it does.

10) Relief next to me

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942/chapters/2251923

Summary: AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

11) Play the odds

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8948758

Summary: Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don’t know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don’t do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn’t expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis. Namely, he doesn’t expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend. Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

12) Time bomb

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3641511/chapters/8044863

Summary: “Why exactly are you here?” Louis asked, feigning annoyance and failing pathetically at it. “My publicist told me I can’t go anywhere near you.” Harry said, eyes still smudged with last night’s eye liner. “That makes you my favorite person in the world.” Or the one where Louis has everything: a lead role in a giant Hollywood franchise, a glittering new house with an entertaining Irish neighbor, and a steady, normal boyfriend who he probably loves. Louis never expected to become a household name among young Hollywood overnight. He also never expected to find something endearing about the enigmatic rockstar who keeps showing up on his back porch.

13) Hiding place

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4858376/chapters/11133491

Summary: Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual.From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance. Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

14) You You You

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/846690/chapters/1617212

Summary: “Infamous boybander leaves club together with unknown,” read the headline. Underneath were pictures of a boy with dark curls, green eyes and very tight pants. They both studied the article for a moment, reading it through quickly. “Is that…?” Louis frowned. That guy almost looked exactly like… “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” “Louis,” Niall said, looking absolutely fucked over. “You just fucked the most wanted guy on earth. You just fucked Harry Styles of One Direction."Or, the one where Harry and Louis meet at a club and Louis takes Harry home, only for him to realize that the boy who just made him breakfast half naked is Harry Styles from One Direction.

15) Never Be

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8318785/chapters/19050769

Summary: Monica: You’ve got to see her again. Ross: And why do you care so much? Monica: Because! You could get to live out my fantasy! Ross: You had fantasies about Emily? Monica: No! Y’know, the fantasy! Meet someone from a strange land, fall madly in love, and spend the rest of your lives together. The one where Harry Styles moves to Connecticut from England for nine months as a part of a study abroad program, and he just so happens to move in with Louis Tomlinson and family.

16) Unbelievers

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3592992/chapters/7924602

Summary: It’s Louis’ senior year, and he’s dead set on doing it right. However, along with his pair of cleats, a healthy dose of sarcasm and his ridiculous best friend, he’s also got a complicated family, a terrifyingly uncertain future, and a mortal enemy making his life just that much worse. Mortal enemies “with benefits” was not exactly the plan.Or: The one where Louis and Harry definitely aren’t friends, and football is everything.

17) Into The Blue

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499

Summary: AU. In which Louis is Harry’s scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can’t be all that difficult to convince Harry that they’re on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.

18) We’re okay

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635292/chapters/1150082

Summary: It’s funny, really, that their lives hadn’t intercepted before that point. That all it took was one little thing that set off a chain reaction of circumstances which led them all to each other. But it was for the best, really, because in the end, with each other, they were all okay.And if you asked them, the whole thing could be blamed on Liam sleeping in, for once in his life.

19) Don’t Look Down

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738944/chapters/1375483

Summary: AU. In which Louis is a solicitor at one of London’s most prestigious law firms and Harry happens to apply for the position as his trainee. And everyone else is around, too.

20) got the sunshine on my shoulders

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10785375/chapters/23922933

Summary: five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn’t have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he’s rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he’s forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who’s spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

21) Love is a Rebellious Bird

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162438/chapters/2362331

Summary: AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again” according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too. Don’t hum Bolero.

22) Wear it like a crown

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322

Summary: AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.

23) Lonesome when you go

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11032023/chapters/24588318

Summary: Harry, Louis, Niall, and Liam are surgeons-in-training at the most prestigious program in the United States.More than that, Harry and Louis have a history unknown to the others, a history that involves dogs and God, anatomy lessons, food fights, vinyl jazz records, and one hell of an oyster tour. A story of trust and friendship, of poetry and rock and roll, pink-tinged dawns and the darkest nights. A tale of portraits, tattoos, and everlasting love.

24) You watched me sink

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6896620

Summary: They've discussed it a few times - the boyfriend thing. It's not like it's some forbidden, horrific, abandon hope all ye who talk about furthering the relationship sort of subject. They're mature adults. They're in tune with their feelings, their hearts' desires, the way those butterflies swoop in their bellies whenever they so much as hold each other's hands. They like each other. A lot. It's mutual, they know. But for now, they're just content to enjoy the simplicity of what they have, and what they have is great. When dating in secret stops being enough, then they'll discuss that too. Or, the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn't realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him.

25) we’re not friends, we could be anything

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7873252/chapters/17980723

Summary: The next second, Harry is firing back, “If I wanted to kill you I could have just poisoned your fajitas.”Louis rolls his eyes. “Clever boy.”Harry feels his skin start to prickle with irritation. The way Louis talks to him, so condescending... Like he’s smarter than Harry… Fuck that.“I don’t have time for this,” Harry says. “Some of us have schoolwork to do. And jobs to get to. So if you’ll excuse me.”Harry doesn’t wait for a reply before he pushes past Louis, hoisting his bag further up his shoulder and rushing towards the door. No, not rushing. That would imply Louis is chasing him out. He walks to the door hastily.He’s not sure, but he thinks he hears Louis mutter “Fucking wanker” before the door to the flat clicks shut behind him. ...Or, the one where Harry and Louis are unlikely uni flatmates who definitely don't like each other and definitely won't fall in love (even if Liam and Niall think otherwise).

26) Nameless night

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467966/chapters/7611533

Summary: For their 18th birthday, every person receives a letter that reads a simple date. That is the date you'll meet your soulmate. Harry and Louis have different beliefs, live in different worlds and have different dreams, hopes and fears. Yet, they're not so different from each other when it comes to love. When their paths cross, there is no doubt they belong together. Except for that one, essential difference: they didn't receive the same date. Or, a fic about differences that make no difference at all: Harry and Louis are soulmates. In every way possible. Featuring Niall as a role model, and Liam and Zayn as a different kind of role models.

Happy reading!!

#larry stylinson #larry #larry fanfic #larry fic #larry fanfiction #ao3 #masterpost

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