#and i miss being able to watch videos without tapping on them and turning on the sound!!!!

[army-of-bee-assassins]

it's also sooo so cool getting all these shitty tumblr live updates while my app has been broken for well over a month at this point. media autoplay is turned off for me and can't be turned back on and i've been going back and forth with support since it started and literally nothing they have suggested has done anything. and now they've just stopped responding for the past almost two weeks.

[bgwlsmahf25]

Trending

Pairings: Wanda x reader; Tony x reader (platonic); Kate x reader (platonic); Yelena x reader (platonic)

Warnings: mention of Wanda’s time with HYDRA; little bit of angst, lot of fluff

Summary: A TikTok trend gets you and Wanda to admit your feelings for each other.

a/n: this was cute to write! First Wanda fic :) happy with it! Hope you enjoy

“Y/n!” You look up from the book you’re nose deep in to see Tony come into the common room area, Kate and Yelena behind him. He stopped by the sofa and looked confusedly at you. “You’re young. You know about this stuff.”

“Young?” You feigned offence, putting a hand on your chest. “I’m wounded, I’m actually 24.” There was a short pause. “Wait - what stuff?”

“TikTok.” You burst out laughing as the word came out of Tony’s mouth. The idea of Tony Stark on TikTok made you crease up laughing. The others watched you in amusement. “Don’t laugh. I’ve heard it’s very cool with the kids these days.”

“Did you borrow that phrase from Steve? Why are you coming to me about it anyway – can't Kate or Yelena...” Your voice trailed off as Yelena glared at you and Kate just shook her head. “Uh, ok, never mind. What do you need from it?”

“I want to know how to use it. I think it could be the missing link I’ve been looking for between uh, some projects and the digital age.”

“He wants Iron Man on TikTok,” Yelena said bluntly. “And he wants you to teach him how to do it.”

“Oh god...” you groaned as Tony looked impatiently at you. “Fine, yes, I’ll help you.”

***

“I hate this,” you moaned, staring frustratedly down at your laptop.

“What’s wrong?” The voice made you jump, and you looked around to see Wanda walking towards you. She had a mug in one hand and a book which you recognised as yours in the other.

“Wands what are you doing up? It’s late.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” The witch shuffled awkwardly then sat down beside you. “What are you doing up?”

“Trying to edit a video for Tony. He’s obsessing over his page looking perfect.” You sighed. “And that means every video has to meet his standards.”

“Hmm.” Wanda leant towards you to look at the screen. You swallowed nervously and hoped she couldn’t hear how fast your heart was racing. Being around Wanda was both comforting and infuriating at the same time. You had feelings for the Sokovian ever since you were first introduced. Something about her shy smile and warm gaze drew you in and from that moment on the two of you were inseparable.

It had started out as a friendship. Wanda was your best friend and knowing how much she’d already been through made you determined not to make her endure anything more. But that turned into longing gazes and affectionate touches. Kate and Yelena had both tried to encourage you to make a move, yet you couldn’t seem to do it. You didn’t want to lose your best friend if she didn’t feel the same way that you felt about her.

“What’s this?” Wanda was pointing at the screen.

“Hmm, oh, probably just some trend.” Idly you clicked on it without really reading the words.

It was a girl and a boy dancing around in an empty car park. The words on the screen read: ‘able to take my best friend on dates because the world didn’t end when I was 16.’ You smiled, watching the video but beside you Wanda tensed and then swiftly exited the room. A moment later you looked over and noticed she was gone. “Wanda?” You stared back at the screen and then realised.

...the world didn’t end when I was 16 – Wanda and Pietro were 16 when the Avengers found them working with Ultron.

“Ah shit.” You closed the laptop and ran towards Wanda’s room. Giving a soft tap at the door, there was no answer. You waited a beat then knocked harder.

“Go away.” Her voice was muffled and sounded choked, and your heart leapt uncomfortably, realising she was upset.

“Wanda, can I come in?” You took the silence as a yes and entered her room. You’d always loved Wanda’s room, particularly after you encouraged her to make it her own. Fairy lights were strung around the place. Plants sat on the windowsill, gently tended to every day by the witch. Her bedspread was covered by two large blankets and an assortment of plushies, most of which you’d given her.

She was sitting on her bed, facing the wall, staring down at her hands. You sat down gently on the edge of the bed and put a hand gently on her shoulder. She tensed and then relaxed into your touch.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “It’s my fault, I didn’t read what the video said. I – I'm sorry, Wands.” She let out a breath and turned to face you. Immediately you reached up, wiping away a few stray tears. “Oh honey... I really am sorry. What can I do?”

“Hold me,” she whispered. “Please.”

You ignored the butterflies in your stomach and crawled onto the bed next to her. Leaning your back against the wall, you reached out and pulled her against you, wrapping your arms around her, her hands clinging to your wrists. She leant her head back into the crook of your neck and you kissed the top of her head softly.

“I really am sorry,” you murmured. “I won’t show you any more videos. I just got frustrated at Tony. I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, it’s not your fault.” She shifted in your arms to look at you, you held eye contact for a moment then looked away. Wanda turned herself further and you moved away, your heart still racing. “Why do you do that?” She sounded hurt and you started to worry all over again. “Do what?”

“Move away from me. I’ve noticed it for a while now. I come and find you or I sit next to you, and you shift, you put space between you and me. I look at you, you smile and then you look away. What’s going on, y/n?”

You gulped. The only reason you did all that was to try and combat your feelings for your best friend. “I - I don’t know.”

“Tell me,” Wanda whispered. “We used to tell each other everything. But lately I don’t feel as if you are.”

“I don’t want you to hate me. Or – or resent me for anything.”

Wanda put a gentle hand on your cheek, turning your face so that you were forced to look at her. Her gaze was soft, her eyes searching yours. “I could never hate you, y/n. Please tell me what’s going on. Did I do something to upset you?”

“No! No, it’s not you, it’s me. I – I'm sorry Wands. I just – we’re best friends and I don’t know exactly when it happened but I – I have feelings for you,” you ended in a rush. “If you don’t feel like that, I totally understand and I will put it behind me, but please – I don’t want to lose you.”

A smile lit up your best friend’s face and you looked at her confused. Her thumb moved from your cheek to run gently across your bottom lip, making you gasp and look at her intently. “I have feelings for you too,” she whispered.

You leant in, your lips meeting in a soft kiss. Wanda tasted like cinnamon and apricots, and it was intoxicating. When air became an issue, you both pulled away, touching your forehead to hers and smiling gently at her.

“I get to love my best friend because my world didn’t end at 16,” Wanda whispered, making you blush. “I may have been HYDRA’s puppet, y/n, but my world didn’t end then, it began. I found you.”

“I love you too.” You pulled the witch into a hug, both of you falling onto her bed, arms wrapped around each other and smiles on your faces.

[shebeafancyflapjack]

A Strange God (Part 3)

Silver (oc) finally meets Alison.

It was hard to explain the passing of time when you're asleep for the best part of a month. She supposed in some ways, she was lucky. There was less time for her to get bored or frustrated. On the other hand, the world seemed to move past at a disorienting speed. Six weeks worth of days awake for her was basically half a year for everyone else.

But for a while, she barely noticed. Everything was usually the same whenever she awoke. Heather barely repainted a room and seemed willing to keep the same furniture that she'd inherited from her parents before her. The house was as frozen in time as the ghosts dwelling within the walls.

And then Heather died. Suddenly time seemed to catch up with the rest of them, once Alison and Mike arrived.

"That's...That's a phone?!" She gawped at the tiny computer screen in Alison's palm. "Where are the buttons?!"

"It's touch screen. See?"

Silver had gasped loud enough to wake the entire house as she'd watched Alison control the device with just a tap of her finger. She showed her videos that were crystal clear rather than stuttering and pixilated. Games with better graphics than she'd had on her PS2.

Out of all the ghosts, she was the closest to Alison in terms of generations, though a few years older. It twisted Silver's stomach a little to think she should be in her mid thirties by now.

Jess must be long dead. Her niece in secondary school. She hoped her mum remarried so she wasn't alone.

"I can always check on them...if you want?" Alison offered.

Silver gratefully declined. It seemed worse to find out something awful that she couldn't help with. She had her prayers to her gods and just trusted in her faith that her living family is okay, and hopefully, she'd see them in the next life.

Until then, she had her new family. And despite them only spending two full days a month, she felt a connection that she'd never had among her living brothers and sisters. Even Cap and Fanny, as much as they chided her and talked down to her, she knew cared in their own way. Plus it was never not fun to do or say something that made them both turn red as radishes.

Pat, Kitty, Robin and Mary she was closest to. Julian often made her teeth grind whenever he opened his mouth but she could silence him by letting him play with her phone, still better than anything Alison could give him without straining his finger. Humphrey was cool and good to talk shit with, though it was usually an effort just to find the dude.

Where once she'd relied on Robin carrying her to her forest bed when it was time to fall asleep, now the gang all made the effort to walk with her and stay as she got comfy on the mound, Silver able to bid them all goodnight "until next time", and hear them wish her pleasant dreams.

"It doesn't....hurt or anything then?" Alison had asked her one evening after she woke up.

"You mean bed sores? Not really."

"I meant it ain't like being in a coma or being locked in your body."

She shook her head; "Nope. I just have these really awesome dreams, like in my last ones..."

Alison, just like the majority of people, had suppressed a groan when forced to listen to someone describe their dreams in such detail. Silver was partly aware they would never be as exciting those listening as they had felt to her, but she had to share them. Robin, Mary and Kitty loved to listen - though they often shared their own dreams in return, some of which (Mary and Robin's especially) chilled Silver to the bone.

But before Alison, she'd never truly felt like she was missing a whole lot during her long slumbers. Heather rarely got up to much and there was little difference to the ghosts routines and group activities. Now she would wake to have them all excited to fill her in on whatever crazy scheme Alison and her husband were up to try to make money, or one of ghosts FINALLY opening up about how they died. First Fanny, then Thomas, then Humphrey. For once her fantastic dreams paled in comparison to getting to just be in the room when everything happened.

"Oh it ain't all that excitings, love." Mary comforted her one evening, after she felt down about having missed an actual lesbian wedding in the house.

"Of course it is! That weren't even legal when we were alive. Shit, my teachers at school still weren't allowed to talk about it if you asked."

She tried to ask Alison if she could persuade the next gay couple wanting a wedding to have it during the full moon. She said she'd think about it.

"And Humphrey! Can't believe he did that for a wife who didn't even love him. What a hero."

"Hmm. Fair dos, he earned that rather quick and painless death, he did." Mary shrugged. Silver leaned in against her arm.

"....Do you think you'll be ready to talk about yours?"

Mary didn't respond.

"S'okay if you don't. I don't think any different of you. I don't think you could get anymore awesome after headbutting Cap but I could be wrong."

Mary sniggered at that; "Bless your little heathen heart."

And she was wrong, as she discovered one morning when she'd been walking downstairs and Robin hissed at her to join him at pressing his ear to the wall, overhearing a quarrel in the next room. She'd stormed out of the same room barely an hour ago, sick of Fanny having a go at her about girls getting piercings.

Silver now stood next to the caveman.

"I have a right to voice my opinion-!"

"And I has a rights to swing at you for it, if you dares say another word against her tattoos or dress agains! She wanna mark herself with the signs of demons, that be her business. She only gets three night times a month with us, she don't needs you insulting her the whole time. Do it again, Fanny Buttons and you has me to deal with!"

At first, Silver had thought she was defending Alison. And then she'd brought up the whole three nights thing.

Fanny's snide comments were like water off a duck's back to her now. However, she'd never listened to anyone stick up for her like that. And having it be Mary....usually so quiet and timid...

She glanced at Robin who was grinning like a Cheshire cat, clearly just as amused and impressed. It did seem like Mary's confidence had grown immensely the past several years.

"That tolds hers, I reckons...Oh. Hello, darlin's." The Stuart era woman smiled at her after she passed through the wall.

Silver had tackled her with a hug.

"Oh! What's all this?" Mary asked, staring at Robin who just shrugged, failing at acting casual.

She shook her head, inhaling that comforting smell.

"Just....thanks Mu-Mary." She'd almost slipped up and it made her heart pang with guilt, as if betraying the mother she'd left behind.

The mother had raised her, despite all her flaws. The mother who was still out there, grieving.

Silver released her and made an excuse to go, dragging Robin by the hand to show her some deer.

"Me hear what you almost say." The caveman smirked.

"You heard nothing." She denied with a blush.

"You should say it if what really feel. Make her big happy."

One day. Maybe.

On that last night, Alison offered to be the one to walk with her to her bed.

"So I know you didn't want me to look into your family. But I did do a bit of digging." The older (or younger) woman explained.

"Nosy."

"Yes, but...I just found out your birthday. Did you know it was today?"

Silver stilled. No. She hadn't thought about it. With time being so messed up for her, it was one of many events she lost track of.

"Well...Happy birthday."

Alison gestured to her bed.

Silver turned, expecting the dirt and blue flowers she knew so well. Except now there was more. More flowers, all sort of different vibrant colours and types she didn't know the names of - pretty awful for a pagan, she knew - surrounded the space for her to lay, which now had a black sheet decorated with zodiac signs, along with a pillow to rest her head. On the bark of the tree that served as the headboard, hung a sketch that Alison had drawn herself of Silver sleeping among the flowers.

It was so strange to see herself, to see how she looked to others as she slept all those weeks.

"You....made this for me?" She said, speechless. She knew about the effort Alison put into her gifts for the others but this....

"Well, if you insist on not sleeping in the house, you should have a proper nice place to rest out here. Just gotta keep an eye on the rain, not that you feel the damp-"

"I love it." She could cry, that's how perfect it was; "Thanks, Alison...I'm starting to see why Kitty loves you so much."

"Just now? I've been here nearly four years."

"Yeah but its been like a few months for me." If that. Even so, Alison was more of a sister than she'd ever had before, to all of them.

That dawn she lay her head down on the pillow, the moon hanging in her usual spot above her, and she knew she was going to have the best dreams ever.

When she woke, there was no moon. No stars.

It was cloudy. Not that unusual, it was England after all. But given how extra pretty her bed now was, she'd wanted that beautiful gentle glow upon her as she opened her eyes.

No matter. She was more disappointed to wake up alone. That almost never happened. Robin, if no one else, never failed to be there at her side when she rose.

Panic struck her at the thought he might have moved on. Oh gods. What would she do?! It was a rather irrational panic but the thought of him not being there, not carrying her back when she passed out too far from the bed...

Fucksake, girl, chillax already. She took a deep breath. Maybe something else was going on and he was just delayed. She was a big girl, she could walk herself back to the house.

It was raining, which was happy to enjoy, being able to appreciate the soothing noise without getting soaked. She smiled, inhaling once more as she stepped out of the woods, sending a silent prayer to Gaia.

Then her eyes fell upon what looked to be two scorched footprints in the grass. What..?

She looked up and saw, across the field, the smouldering remains of the gatehouse.

[wannaberp]

— WHO IS PARK YUMI?

she’s a TWENTY-FIVE year old wannabe, born MARCH 10, 1997. she’s currently eyeing STUDIO DELTA and lives by the words “try to be a rainbow in someone's rainbow.”

maybe you should learn more or ask her a question.

▶ PLAY THE  CLIP [ audition_tape.mp4 ]

audition tapes weren't entirely new to yumi, in fact since her previous company had went bankrupt and failed to protect those under them, she had been sending in audition tapes to practically every company which she found herself interested in since then. this time was no different of course, almost as if it were some sort of hobby of hers now to just audition for companies, only to end up failing, but this time she was just as determined as ever. she wouldn't allow a few failures to stop her from going after what she truly wanted in life, just like how she hadn't let her parents get in the way of her dreams in the past.

so when she decided to send in an audition tape to studio delta, she wasn't only determined to do her best, she also knew that she shouldn't allow herself to get her hopes up. having done so in the past had only resulted in failure and so yumi had learned from those past mistakes over time.

as she stands there in front of the camera, she bows politely before standing straight. "hello, i'm park yumi. i'm twenty-five years old and currently known for a few titles over the years career-wise. i was previously an idol but things didn't turn out so well for my group back then, so after that i became a youtuber and even formed a band with some really cool people, doing what i love to do the most." she smiles softly before continuing on. "for my audition, i will be singing a song by one of my favorite bands and i hope you enjoy it."

the song she chose was one which was in english, though she can honestly thank her previous company for at least helping improve her english skills during her short time with them. the song for today was 'War With My Mind' by Crimson Apple, both the song and band being her top favorite out there. it's true she listens to just about any genre of music, however, when it came to bands they sort of topped other genres out there in her opinion.

she takes a moment to get herself ready, though the moment that she's ready yumi begins without a moment of hesitation. yumi keeps a rather neutral expression as she sings into the microphone, keeping her attention on the camera in front of her, even occasionally closing her eyes as she gets more into the song. there are moments where the lyrics say 'but i'm lost inside my mind' and at that moment she makes it a point to tap on the side of her head a few times. even when it comes to the more higher notes, she's able to practically sing them flawlessly without missing a beat. for those who didn't know her, they wouldn't be able to even imagine how many times she had performed this exact song during some of MISFITZ's gigs, and now she was here auditioning with the exact song she found as her own 'comfort song' even in the past when she would be going through a breakup.

only after she's finished singing does yumi take a deep breath and slowly exhales, taking one last bow towards the camera as the smile returns to her face. "thank you for watching and i really hope that you enjoyed my little performance."

and with that the video comes to an end.

[twinklelilstarkey]

Where is my girl, bro? - Qb!Rafe Cameron

Words: 2.1k+

Summary: Rafe is, finally, having the game that he anticipated for so long, but he can’t find you in the stands.

Warnings: Cursing? Female!Reader. Rafe being a sad boi for a few minutes. 

DO NOT REPOST, REWRITE OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORK!

Inspired by the iconic video “I can’t find my mama, bro” (but, of course, instead of mom, it’s his girlfriend)

One thing you absolutely hate but, for some reason, always happens to you is that whenever you really want or need to be somewhere at a certain time, something *always* happens and you end up being late. 

It could be for presentations, tests, and many other important things, and no matter what you do, it just happens. There’s no way to escape it.

Today is your boyfriend’s game. You never miss a game, ne-ver. And he has been telling you about it for way too long. Always saying how excited he is to play it, just so he can finally beat the guys that have been talking shit about his team nonstop for so long.

You did everything to get there in time. You left the college library early, went back to your apartment to take a shower and get ready. 

You did everything in time and still had at least twenty minutes to spear. So, with the time remaining, you calmly and slowly got onto your car and drove your way to the stadium with absolutely no worries. 

The time from your apartment to the stadium wasn’t all that much. Ten to fifteen minutes, max. Plus, the games are always a few minutes late. You were as relaxed as one can be.

But that’s when everything went to shit.

There was a car accident at one of the streets that connected to the stadium, so the road was closed. It wasn’t a big accident, just a tap that took one off the road slightly. No one was hurt, thankfully. But you had to do a whole different rout, where you were met with nothing but... traffic, of course.

Still, you didn’t stress. You still had time. Rafe didn’t have his phone on him anymore, so you couldn’t text him just to tell him know that you were on your way. But, still, you didn’t panic, yet.

It took you a good 15 minutes to get out of the traffic and get in the parking lot, to find almost no empty spots. 

But life’s still great, right?

You were able to park your car all the way in the back and as soon as you turned off the engine, your friends started blowing up your phone to say that the game has started.

You jumped out of the car, locked the doors and started running to the stadium. 

Midway through the ginormous parking lot, you remember that you left the lights of the car on. So, running back you went.

To say you were out of breath was an understatement.

You called your friends when you were able to get in the stadium (in as: ‘just walked through the door’) to see where they were seated, and you did that while walking at fast pace to the usual seats, slightly off to the left of the field, already expecting their answer.

And all you got as their answer was “our usual spot was occupied”, which made you stop walking and sigh to the ceiling, “we’re on the right, by the doors”.

And there you went again. Running like a mad woman, again, through empty hallways to the other side of the stands.

The game had been going on for a good few minutes now and Rafe was sitting on the bench, breathing a little heavy has he just left the field and his eyes study the stands.

“Where is my girl, bro?” He asks his teammate beside him.

His friend tries to help him find you, eyes scanning through the sea of college students and families, but soon enough he was called back in the game. 

Rafe’s telling himself many times that you are there and he just isn’t seeing you. 

You wouldn’t miss a game, right?

You pant as you make your way up to the stands. Your legs are starting to ache from the sudden running and jumping up stairs, and the urge to yell a ‘thank god’ when you spot your friends at the front seats and not all the way in the back is too intense for you to just not let out a whisper yell version of it.

“Finally!” Your friend says loudly over everyone’s loud excited voices.

You sit beside them, feeling exhausted, eyes already on the score board, scared to see that you missed any points, but you’re happy to see that you didn’t miss all that much.

You sip your drink excessively as you quench your thirst and your friend starts to update you on what you missed.

Rafe’s eyes go back to the stands as he makes his way back to the bench and he frowns at the fact that he can’t see you nowhere close to your usual spot. He looks through the sea of dark blue jerseys, trying to at least find his number on anyone and go on from there, but he just... can’t see you.

“Still can’t find her?” His other teammate asks.

“No, like... what the fuck?” He curses more to himself than anyone else, sad tone. “Where the fuck is she?”

He’s not cursing you, he’s cursing himself. Like what if he forgot to tell you that the game was today? He had stopped checking his phone long before the game started... what if something happen? Maybe he should’ve checked his phone earlier. 

Oh, god, where are you?

He lets himself fall back on the bench, eyes still on the stands, which almost made him trip over an helmet on the floor, but he didn’t seem to care all that much.

Your eyes stay on the field, watching the game continue as you try to cool down your warm body, nodding at your friend’s words and waving your arms around your face to seek some wind.

(...)

The game continues on, Rafe keeps on trying not to think too much about your absence on your usual seat, forcing himself to think that you have been there the whole game, and imagines you in previous games just to simulate some idea of your presence.

Everything is close to ending, his team is winning, as expected, yet he was still dragging his feet on the grass and letting his eyes stay on the ground as he walked back to the bench. 

He feels sad, this almost-win doesn’t even feel like a win. He never celebrated a home game win without you, and it’s weird to even think about it.

“Yo, Cameron!” His friend screams from a few feet away from him.

Rafe lifts his gaze from the ground, up to his friend. He has an outstretched arm, pointing at the opposite side of home team stands, the one’s he has been looking at for way too long.

Rafe’s heart speeds up for a bit as hope runs through his system and he stands up, almost running full speed to his teammate. He stands behind him to try and follow his pointed finger. His blue eyes scan the middle rows first and suddenly... he spots you.

You’re smiling at your friend, wearing his jersey, like always, shaking a cup on your hand and sipping the last drops of your drink at the bottom of the cup.

You are nowhere near where he thought you would be. Yeah, you’re on the front row but way off to the side, close to the doors that he had just walked through on the break.

How the hell didn’t he see you?

A wide smile spreads over his lips and his heart squeezes at the sight. He has never felt this much relief in his life. You’ve been here this whole time.

You’re not going to miss a home game win.

The last seconds of the game run out and the team starts celebrating as soon as the number zero hit the timer.

A heavy weight has been lifted off Rafe’s shoulders and he honestly didn’t even realize it was there until now. His smile is huge as he jumps around with his teammates while they chant whatever nonsense you always had trouble understanding a word of.

His helmet is on his hand, letting his hair flow away freely in the wind as his features twitch upwards in the happiness with the win of the game that has been on his mind for so long.

You smile from your spot on the stands, some people in the stands are just as loud as the team, jumping and dancing around. You can’t blame them, after so many weeks of both colleges fighting against one another on social media, yours can finally rub the win on their faces.

As the team separates to go to their girlfriends, boyfriends and family members, many people walk over to the railing of the stand.

Rafe walks towards you, smile as bright as ever, being highly contagious to you.

“Hi baby!” You squeal in excitement as he gets closer to you.

He answer back with a just as excited tone and cheesy nickname and comes closer to the stands. He climbs them a bit and you lean down to cup his face and give him the usual kiss after a game.

His cheeks are sweaty under your fingertips, but it’s not something you haven’t grown accustomed to.

When being able to pull away from the various pecks, Rafe helps you down the stands, almost against your will, and pulls you into a not so comfortable hug due to all the gear on him.

Yes, you, supposedly, can’t get on the field, but there’s too many people around you for anyone to notice, and other people are also doing it, so it will be impossible for someone to call you out specifically in the middle of such commotion. 

“I didn’t see you for most of the game.” Rafe tells you and you look up at him.

“I expected that. I got here late and supposedly our usual spot was taken.” You explain over the loud music.

“You were late?” He asks loudly, forced shock on his tone as he pulls a quite offended look on his face, “For my special game? How could you?”

You giggle at him and he breaks the fake expression so he can smile.

“There was traffic and the parking lot is completely full.” You explain.

“Excuses, excuses.” He says while waving his head from side to side comically, “You. little missy... for-got!”

He pokes your side with each word and you laugh at him again, loving his playful and excited mood.

“Did not do such a thing!” You say, playing along.

Rafe’s smile is wide and bright and god, you wish they could win everyday.

If it meant him stopping to worry so much about everything and just be this happy every day... Ugh, where do you sign? No matter what cost. You will sign that, god damn it.

As you’re about to pull away from your sweaty boyfriend, your friend stops you.

“Wait! Let me take picture!” She says.

You pass her your phone with the best of your ability and she takes it in her hands midair. You walk back to stand beside Rafe and wrap one of your arms around his waist, as his do the same, pulling you closer, completely against him.

Your friend takes as many pictures as she can of you two smiling, just for memories’ sake, but you, many family members and significant others, are interrupted by the usual voice saying a ‘please stay on the stands and do not step on the grass’ blah blah blah. 

“Thank you.” You thank your friend as she shows you the pictures from her place up the stands.

Rafe holds your waist close to him and, just like any other guy around him, he helps you up. But... Rafe is Rafe. He can only fight his urges to some extent.

As soon as your hands grab the top railing and you stand safely at the top, his hand lands a loud and hard smack on your ass.

God, you hate this man.

You send him a glare and the bastard sends you a cheeky toothy smile, so forced that even his eyes close with his cheeks. You shake your head in a chuckle and jump to the other side of the stands.

“Don’t take too long on the locker room!” You tell him over the loud music and he nods.

You’ll never forgive him for making you wait 2 hours for him to only say ‘Sorry, I had to enjoy the shower while we still had hot water’.

Never. You will take that with you to your grave.

“Sure thing, ma’am!” He says, playfully saluting you.

You smile down at him and take some steps back.

“Wait!” He says, hand on the air.

You walk back close to the railing and he smiles, climbing up the stands again.

“I deserve one more kiss, no?” He questions, standing right at eye level with you.

You bring his hair back, not letting it fall back on his eyes and cup his cheeks, giving him the kiss he so wanted and wasn’t able to get when you were standing beside him.

Rafe’s free hand holds you close to him by the back of your head, but you pull away quickly as soon as you feel his tongue touch your bottom lip.

“We are not doing all of that here.” You warn him.

He stares back at you.

“I’ll wait in the car.” You say, your lips hovering over his, pressing a last kiss on his lips.

He jumps back down to the grass and stares as you turn to grab your things from your seat. 

His last name is written across your back as well as his number. A dark blue jersey matching the one he is wearing right now.

Your friend stands beside you, so that the both of you can leave, and you give him a last look before he has to step away with his team and resume his celebrations while you go to the car.

He steps back from the stands, eyes on you and on his jersey. Rafe loves to see you wear it, it awakens some sort of possessiveness in him, but, god, he is dreading to take it off of you.

Is this good? Because I love the idea of qb!rafe, but I don’t know shit about American football, and wrote this on a free morning. Help.

If you guys enjoyed this, I’ll write a fic with qb!rafe and maybe some more imagines of him just being a jock...? Maybe?

[buckyhoney-library]

nsfw alphabet, b.b

A/N: so sorry it took so long! hope you enjoy! sebastians & nomad!steve should be out sometime this week(end)!

reblogs/likes/feedback are greatly appreciated & highly encouraged

However, do NOT repost/steal ANY of my fics on my blog!

Warnings: 18+, language, smutty thoughts, sorry for any missed typos!

chris evans nsfw alphabet

A = Aftercare (What are they like after sex)

bucky takes aftercare so seriously! he makes sure that you have everything that you need and you're taken care of first. showering you in praises, holding you close, getting you water or snacks- he is at your beck and call.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part on themselves and on their partner)

thighs. thighs. thighs. He loves laying between them with his head resting on your stomach. His fingers tracing patterns on your skin- peppering kisses on the inside. bucky's arms are hooked around them while he is giving you head, rubbing small circles on the outside.

bucky has grown to love his vibranium arm, because of how much you love it. he has changed arm usage from a weapon to a useful tool in every situation. being able to cool it and playing with temperatures, pinning you down- making sure you go nowhere- or even being able to cause it to vibrate.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

he loves to paint with his cum. as much as he LOVES to cum inside you and make you hold it- there is something so pretty with his cum plastered on your back or on your tummy. "you look so pretty with my cum on your thighs," bucky is especially fond of watching it drip down your breasts or leak down your thighs. bucky just stares in awe of how it glistens against your skin.

D = Dirty Secret (What do they secretly want)

he wants you to praise him. bucky lives off of praise and when you whimper how good he's making you feel or how he's such a good boy? it throws him over the edge, encouraging him to go faster and harder. he'll never ask for them, but when you start hyping him up, fuck he enters a state of nirvana.

E = Experience (Do they know what they are doing?)

1940's bucky as we all know was very experienced but after eighty years of nothing? he needs a little help regaining his confidence, but man will he practice and have no problems asking for help. he'd be a little embarrassed of cumming early or not being able to satisfy like he used too, but bucky watches porn and experiments like no tomorrow, catching up on all the new toys/techniques/positions etc.

F = Favorite Position (Self-explanatory)

bucky's favorite position would be cowgirl or where you're laying on your side, so he could hold you. cowgirl because he gets the perfect view of your body and everything about it.

with an honorable mention of missionary- but missionary with your legs in the air spread for all can see. if he's feeling a little spicy, he'll press on your lower abdomen, adding extra pressure.

G = Goofy (Are they serious during sex or goofy

BOTH. There is a time and a place for serious, rough, passionate sex (and boy does he enjoy that), but for the most part, Bucky wants you to feel good and he wants to learn- which means there will be some mishaps and failed moments, but he loves those moments just the same.

H = Hair (Are they well-groomed?)

he is well kept and clean. bucky isn't hairless, but he does make sure that everything is trimmed up and clean.

J = Jack Off (Do they masturbate?)

bucky only does when you're away or he's gone for a mission. when you're home, he has no problem telling you he's in the mood. when he does masturbate, it is to your pictures/videos you've sent or through facetime/phone calls. he doesn't watch porn unless that is the only option or he is looking for new things to try with you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

oh boy does he have loads of kinks! bucky loves praise (receiving or giving)! during the more passionate and rough sessions, he is into degrading (but not too crazy) innocence kink. if you have met after his second sexual awakening? god, how he loves to ruin you. he loves the idea that he gets to teach you and that you're at his mercy. ice play/warming (idk what the word is) he loves when you call him sarg does this man have a filthy sarcastic mouth. dirty remarks of comments that leave his mouth- god, it's enough to you off in seconds.

L = Location (Favorite place to do it)

he is a traditional man at heart, so he loves the bedroom. bucky gets to be as loud as chooses and go as long as he wants without the fear of someone walking in or interrupting.

M = Motivation (What turns them on or gets them going?)

leggings. jeans. short shorts- anything that enhances your thighs or when you shoot back firey/witty comments matching his energy. The more traditional turn on's as well, suggestive comments, touching his chest letting it fall to his belt, lingering kisses on his lips and neck. "it's like you're begging me to fuck you silly,"

N = No (Something they will not do. Turnoffs.)

nothing with bodily fluids (other than saliva or cum) & i don't think he'd be fond of being too open in public- he's a private guy, but he doesn't mind the simple pda and light touches.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc.)

okay let me tell you- bucky loves getting head. your lips make him cum faster than anything else. "open wide, darling" he loves the ability to do it virtually anywhere (privately of course) and the quick clean up-but he mostly loves watching you take his length completely, hitting the back of your throat. "fuck, such a good girl taking all of me," hearing you moan into him and gag makes him go FERAL. bucky isn't a head pusher, but he does grip your hair.

bucky does love going down on you too. his cock throbs at the sight of your legs shaking and squirming. the sounds you make encourage him more, but he doesn't stop when you cum- he licks up every last drop of you. "im not stopping, so i'd stop moving if i were you," he'll occasionally pop his head up to make sure that he's doing everything right and you're enjoying yourself- the last thing he wants is for you to fake it (which only happened when he first re-entered the dating world)

P = Pace (Are they fast or rough? Or slow and sensual?)

there is a time and place for everything. bucky loves sensual sex because he feels the most connected to you and he has been without physical/emotional connection for so long that it's become a must. it is also where he feels the most control and the best, when he can be 100% vulnerable- something never thought he could do.

fast and rough is for those needy moments where he can't get his hands off of you- complete feral mode. when you've been teasing him relentlessly and he needs to remind you who's in charge. those nights are when the kinkiest of kinks come to play.

Q = Quickies (Their opinions on quickies rather than regular sex)

quickies are reserved for dinner parties, group outings, etc. where you look too good and he can't keep his hands off of you. "i wanna see if you taste as good as you look". quickies usually consist of fast rough sex that leaves bruises or marks. they also mainly consist of giving/receiving head.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

oh does he! he has almost ninety years of sex trends/toys/etc to catch up on. it will be the middle of the night and you'd be fast asleep only to be woken up by him shaking your arm and going "baby, we have to try this!"

bucky isn't a risk-taker in the sense of public and potentially getting caught, he is a risk-taker in the sense that he is willing to try anything once.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

bub is a super-soldier. his stamina outlasts yours by HOURS. you'd be panting and lying sideways and bucky would be ready for the next round and you'd have to tap out. he would chuckle and hold you, teasing you about how you can't last. "can't handle this cock? i thought you said you could go all night?"

T = Toys (Do they own or use toys on themselves or partners?)

bucky has a whole drawer dedicated to the greatest quality toys. "only the best for you, dollface." he loves seeing how far he can push you with the vibrators. tying the vibrator to your clit and watching you be sent over the moon. bucky wouldn't be too crazy about using toys on himself, but he isn't opposed to being handcuffed (or pegged)

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

BIGGEST TEASE in the galaxy. Touching you, grazing your heat, kissing your neck, rubbing the inside of your thigh, (stuffing a vibrator inside you while you're on the phone), or whispering dirty things in your ear- but God forbid if you tease him back. there will be hell to pay if you try teasing him back. "you better rethink your next move, darling," "i think you forgot who's allowed to tease who."

V = Volume (How loud are they? What sounds do they make?)

bucky is pretty quiet, with the exceptions of grunts and whimpers. His mouth is filthy and he dirty talks like there is no tomorrow! he is also a cocky little shit and sarcastic- which doesn't stop in the bedroom. "your cunt feel so good around me," "open your eyes, i want you to watch as i ruin you" "look at you, you're soaked for me"

W = Wildcard (Random headcanon for your character)

cockwarming. babe lives for cockwarming. early morning lazy sex, but too lazy to pull out of you. you'd be laying on your side with your leg over his, with his cock buried inside of you. "no, honey, just stay" he would mumble with his head resting in the cook of your neck, placing small kisses on your neck, but falling back asleep.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

baby, that serum did wonders. bucky is packing that seven to eighter. his cock would poke through your tummy and he won't stop talking about it for weeks.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

HIGH. VERY HIGH. he is ready whenever and wherever the time calls.

Z = ZZZ (How quickly do they fall asleep afterward?)

bucky's stamina is so high that he probably is starving. he would perform aftercare for you, but once you'd have cared for- he is standing naked in the kitchen making a sandwich.

[morgana-ren]

Nasty shiggy playing video games with his captive hc

Okay, you asked for it. I’m not responsible for what’s about to go down here. All the usual trigger warnings for dubcon and noncon ahead. You guys know the deal already. 

Alright, so for starters, we all know this dude is a total nerd. I know some folks don’t believe that he hangs around playing video games for hours on end pre-Kamino disaster, but for the sake of this ask and my lust, we’re going to pretend he does. 

Shigaraki is kind of a jack of all trades when it comes to gaming. His steam account has more games on it than he could possibly ever play in a lifetime, but he likes to have them regardless because he never knows where his whims are going to take him. He enjoys extreme turn based strategy for when he wants to feel intelligent (or smarter than other people at dominating), sandbox games for when he feels like running around and causing general mayhem, hack and slash for mindless slaughter, online for the rare times he feels like being cooperative, etc. Sometimes he plays those stupid shock value games that only exist to be controversial, sometimes he plays horror just to say ‘fuck you’ to the developer because he can sit through the whole thing with a straight face and steady 70 bpm. 

He’s good. He’s very good. He’s a quick thinker and gets the hang of things very quickly. There’s not very many games out there that he can’t beat with relative ease, and those ones are usually ones he just flat out doesn’t enjoy. 

When Shigaraki takes his beloved and spirits them away to his room, it’s very quickly apparent that he’s a nasty little gamer boy. If you’ve ever met a nasty little gamer boy, this adds a whole new level of terror to the “Oh God I’ve been kidnapped” factor by way of “Oh God I’ve been kidnapped by one of those guys”. 

Eventually he’s gunna get sick of you just sitting there watching him play (more accurately, desperately thinking of an escape plan while he clicks and taps away). He likes it at first because in a twisted way, he wants to impress you with his skill, but he’s a nasty little shithead who wants to watch you squirm, and the closer you are to him, the more you squirm. 

He’s not going to tease you, at least at first. He’s going to watch and see how quickly you can acclimate yourself to the situation.

 If you’re new to gaming or just don’t like it, prepare to be miserable. 

He’s a jerk. There’s no way around it. He’s going to throw you into the thick of things with your Level 1 character, not teach you shit about how to play, and when you inevitably die, he’s going to give you the side-eye and say “What do you want me to do about it? It’s not my fault you’re useless.” 

In that same breath, he won’t let you quit. He’s going to resurrect you, sure, but he’s going to make it very plain that you ‘owe’ him for every single gold he spends doing it before the level ends.

Eventually he’s going to grow bored of watching you frantically try and learn the keys and shortcuts and dying every 3 minutes like clockwork, so he’ll put on a training ground level for you.

Sounds nice, right? He’s trying? He’s not. 

He’s going to pull you over into his chair and situate you on his lap nice and inappropriate. His legs spread just so, your ass pressed firm against the crotch of his jeans so that every single time you jostle even a little bit, you can feel exactly why he wanted you there. You’re separated from his hardening cock by literally less than a centimeter of threadbare fabric and he wants you to know that. 

As you try and focus on learning just what in the hell it is you’re supposed to be doing, he’s going to be whispering in your ear the whole time, chest flush against your back and occasionally rutting his lower body into you under the guise of ‘readjusting’. 

“That’s right.” “Just like that.” “Good girl.” “Do it faster.” “See what happens when you listen to me?” “Don’t stop doing that.” “See? Isn’t this fun?” “Keep doing that and you just might live through this.”

Loading screens become the bane of your existence because not only can you see your pathetic, flushed face, but you can see the way he’s leering from behind you. That manic face of his, heavy lidded, mouth agape, eyes glazed, reeking of licentiousness and the barely corralled urge to bend you over the desk. It’s only a matter of time and you know that, but that doesn’t mean you need the reminder.

It doesn’t really matter how good your clumsy little fingers get at the controls. He’s going to belittle you regardless. Anytime you get remotely comfortable with what you’re doing, he’s going to drag you into harder and harder areas just to watch you drown in inexperience. 

Eventually he’s going to get bored of torturing you and watching you fail. As funny as it is to see how stressed out you get trying like hell to keep your head above water with him, he hasn’t forgotten the main reason be brought you here. 

He’ll pull you off his gaming chair and chuck you onto his bed, leering over you and taunting you with that playful lilt to his tone. 

“You suck at video games. Maybe you’d be better at something else.”

He’s in for a surprise if you’re a gamer yourself, though you are arguably no better off with him even if you are. 

It’s a bit of a shock to him when you take immediately to the controls like you already know what you’re doing. If you’re feeling bold, you can ask if he’ll allow you to import your character so you don’t have to start from scratch, but chances are he’s not that generous. 

Still, you’re good enough at what you’re doing to be able to keep up with him so long as you let him do most of the tanking on heavy hitter enemies. He leaves behind the powerful armor and you’re grateful, even if you know it’s not because he wants you to have it but more because he doesn’t need it himself. 

Believe it or not, he’s actually pretty psyched to have someone to play with at first. He certainly wasn’t expecting to be pleasantly surprised by kidnapping someone who is equally skilled in gaming, but it’s nice that he has something in common with you other than wanting to fuck you into the mattress. He can’t do that all the time so it’s good to know there will be something he can enjoy during the down time. 

Eventually he’s going to kick things up a notch and fight you one on one. You have pretty much no chance at winning against him with his hyper-powered character versus your brand new one, but you’ll put up one hell of a fight.

“Hey, you’re pretty good at that.” “Skilled at it huh? You probably have a lot of practice.” “Don’t let me get you on your back, now.” “Stop struggling.” “Aw, are you gunna cry?” “You look good beneath me.” “Don’t make me put you in your place.” “The way you’re playing, I’m starting to think you like it when I dominate you.” 

It’s inevitable that you’ll lose. Truth be told, you could play a lot better without his thinly veiled suggestive remarks, and you’re certain he knows that. He doesn’t miss the look on your face, filing it away for later. 

After he’s beaten you down enough, he’s going to just watch you play with unnerving intensity. It’s hard to focus when you can literally almost feel him ogling you, but you do your best. Though even as his cock is straining against his jeans, he’s still an insufferable know-it-all at gaming. You’re not sure which is more unnerving: the fact that he’s constantly bashing your build and belittling your strategy, or the fact he’s completely shameless in being openly lewd when he does it. 

Still, Tomura is a man of action, and sitting and watching doesn’t do much for him. After a bit, he’ll tell you to log out and pat the seat beside him on the messy bed. Stall all you want, but eventually you will end up doing what he wants, and you know as well as he does what’s coming next, and if you didn’t, the fact he’s undoing his zipper with that heinous smile spreading across his face would clue you in real fast. 

“You’re pretty good at games. That’s good. But I wanna see if you’re as good at other things now.”

[sundaysundaes]

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.”

***

[kpopsickiess]

This was based on the video of Seungcheol sneezing. (A huge thank you for @softiejacobbaeee for allowing me to bounce ideas off of you.)

Sickie: Scoups

Caretaker: seventeen

Seungcheol p.o.v

There were seven full boxes of costumes, and everyone was searching through the piles of objects looking for their perfect item. There was a typically chaotic vibe, and I was trying to hurry them, "guys, we're supposed to go live in 9 minutes! Let's try and hurry" I glanced at my watch, and startled when there was an object dropped on my head. "I found this hat, you should wear it" Seungkwan said, adjusting the large hat. I glanced in one of the large practice mirrors and nodded, "looks great" I adjusted it, before the 13 of us sat down. "You guys ready to start" our manager asked, once we had fully settled. I looked around, seeing that everyone was.either nodding are giving some form of affirmative response. "Ready!" I said giving a thumbs up.Right before the camera started rolling I noticed that there was a small tickly feeling in the back of my nose. I rubbed at it with the back of my hand roughly hoping to get rid of it before the live started. But, with no such luck, the live started and I still had the feeling in my nose. I tried to ignore it for as long as physically possible. Every once in a while rubbing at my nose to tame the itch as much as I possibly could. At some point the tickly feeling became the main focus of my mind as I had to almost physically force myself from sneezing. I kept sniffling and rubbing my nose.

Joshua p.o.v

During the whole vlive I kept hearing sniffling coming from next to me. I glanced over at me, and was shocked to see that it had been Seungcheol. I was shocked, the oldest was very rarely sniffly. And being next to him, I could see that there was a pinkish tinge around his nose and eyes. I was busy laughing at something Seungkwan had said, when I heard a soft gasp from Seungcheol, I glanced over and saw the older had clasped his hand over his mouth. "HHEETSHSU- HHEETCHU" the oldest jumped up, keeping his hand half covering his face.

Seungcheol p.o.v

It became quite irritating, and no matter how much I scrubbed at my itchy nose, it just didn't stop tickling. It eventually got to he point where I knew I needed to sneeze. I clasped my hand over my mouth and nose and finally sneezed, but even that wasn't enough, and then doubled over with another harsh, and slightly painful sneeze. Even after that, there still the strong tickly feeling, I stood up quickly and left the screen, desperately needing to blow my nose. Praying that it would at least lessen the itch. I looked around behind the camera, not able to find any tissues, when I felt a tap on my shoulder, I turned around and saw Wonwoo holding a handful of tissues out to me. I thanked the younger, he nodded smiling.

Before moving to sit back down. I didn't want to fully blow my nose because the camera was still going. After I softly blew my nose, the itch, that had still been somewhat present, seemed to fully activate again. "HHHSSTCHU" Joshua looked over at me. 'could they hear that?' I mouthed, pointing at the camera. He nodded. I huffed, which caused the tickle to come back. I didn't want to sneeze again, so I pinched my nose and scrubbed at it so hard that it hurt. But it did keep me from sneezing again. I quickly moved to sit back down. Not missing the concerned looks from multiple different members. The vlive continued without incident, unless you count the fairly consistent itchy feeling in my nose.

Once the camera was finally off, I stood up and went straight over to the tissue box our manager had set on a table. I took a couple out and blew my nose. Which caused my nose to tickle even more. "HHHSTCHUU- TTCHUSHYU- HHT-CHUH- HTCHUYU–" A combined "Bless you hyung" came front he other twelve members. I thanked them, and rubbed at my eyes, which had grown quite itchy. "Hyung are you okay?" Sooyoing asked, his face mirrored the concern that was on nearly everyone's face. "I'm alright" I sniffled, and took another tissue out and swiped under my nose, which was now running badly. "Hyung, is your rhinitis acting up?" Chan asked, which I could understand why they wondered. I don't often get sneezy, infact I rarely sneeze, unless my rhinitis has been triggered. I couldn't even think of what it could be, so I shrugged. "I think I'm just a bit sneezy, sometimes people just sneeze" "Yeah, sometimes, but not you. You like never sneeze…. Like ever" Mingyu said, the others nodded in agreement. I went to argue, but instead I snapped forward with a harsh fit of sneezes. Each one felt itchy and painful.

Wonwoo p.o.v

I cringed as Seungcheol hyung repeatedly sneezed, each one sounded quite painful. But as he did so, the hat he had been wearing during the vlive had fallen off. And I noticed a cloud of dust flew off of it as it did so. This seemed to trigger a couple more sneezes from the leader, along with two quick sneezes from Mingyu, which confirmed my theory. Both of them were sensitive to dust, but it set off Seungcheol more than anything else, and seriously triggered his rhinitis. "Hyung, I think your allergies might be acting up" he stubbornly shook his head, while rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. "I'm just a bit sneezy today"

"Hyung… you can't argue with logic" I picked up the hat from the ground, the oldest had barely even noticed it fall. I brushed the back of my hand over the hat, and there was no missing the cloud of dust that blew off of it. "HHTCHU- HHH-HITCHU-HHRHTCH-H HHTCHHU- HHITCHHI-IKXTCHU"

"Bless you" Vernon and Mingyu cringed in sympathy as the oldest member miserably blew his nose and sniffled wetly. "Still insisting nothing is wrong?" Joshua asked, walking over to the leader and gently patting his shoulder. Seungcheol sighed in defeat, "at least it explains why nose was itching the entire vlive"

"Why don't we head back to the dorm and you can shower and take some allergy medicine, it'll help" Jeonghan suggested, going over and putting his arm around the leader's shoulders. Seungcheol nodded, "please, my nose is so itchy and my eyes are burning so b-hh-HhCHuU- HHTChHU- *sniffle* bad." The leader was so preoccupied with his nose, that he didn't notice the sympathetic and concerned looks from his donsaengs. It only took a simple 'let's go hyung' for Seungcheol to leave, but not before he tucked the box of tissues under his arm.

Seungcheol p.o.v

Once we returned to the dorm I was ushered towards the bathroom with clear instructions to shower. Once I had finished I was met in the hallway by Jeonghan, a glass of water and an allergy pill in his hands. I swallowed it down, and rubbed my eyes, which no longer felt like someone had injected them with poison ivy, but still stung. "I'm going to sleep, all this sneezing is tiring and my eyes feel dry and heavy" Jeonghan nodded, and ruffled my hair, "sleep well Cheol"

[johnsamericano]

𝔖𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯 ℜ𝔲𝔰𝔥 𝔧.𝔧.𝔥

Hi everyone! As promised, here’s one of the two most voted fic continuations. There will be more chapters to this story though I'm not sure how many yet. Thank you for reading!

warnings: sugar daddy jae, mentions of injuries and hospitals, language.

taglist: @thoreeo @trustmahluv

Sugar rush m.list.

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the quiet hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

The machine monitoring your father’s heartbeat was the only sound filling the hospital room, where your once healthy father laid unconscious, his perfect, chiseled cheeks adorned with cuts and bruises. Would they leave a mark?

Where did everything go wrong?

Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.

Your string of thoughts was cut off by a call from your aunt.

“Hello?” Your voice was raspy from not using it. There was no one to talk to in the quiet, hospital room but the nurses, who weren't especially keen on chatting.

“How’s your dad, sweetie?”

“They let him out of ICU, but he doesn't look good to me.” Your fingers traced the cuts in his chiseled cheeks that would soon turn into scars, ruining his perfect skin. Your eyes then diverted to his head, thoroughly covered in bandages to protect his damaged skull.

“Honey, I've got bad news...”

“They rejected the case, didn't they?”

“Not precisely.” She deeply inhaled before continuing. “It’s a tough case, almost impossible to win, nonetheless, they're willing to take it. But their fee is a little...”

“Expensive.”

“Yes.”

As expected from the best firm in town, they wouldn't take less than $8,000. Your bank account didn't have enough money to even cover half of it, and with your job at the convenience store, you'd only earn so much to cover your expenses.

“We can take the lawyer that the government provides us with, it would be free.”

“But then I'm sure we’d lose.” You groaned in frustration, using your free hand to rub your forehead. “Don’t worry, I'll find a way to get the money.”

“Why don't we just accept the compensation they're offering? It could pay for the hospital bills and you'd still have some left to pay for your tuition.”

“That would be like putting a price on my father's life. I don't want their money, I want them to make themselves responsible for what they've caused.” The sound of wheels approached the door of your father's room, signaling the nurse was outside with his meds. “It’s okay, Auntie, I'll take care of everything. You can go back home, I know my uncle isn't doing so well.”

“Are you sure, darling?” It was undeniable that she wanted to head back to her little ranch fat away from the hectic city life to take care of her sick husband, but still, her brother was laying down on a hospital bed, fighting for his life.

“Yes, I'm an adult, I'll find a way.”

“Take care of yourself, and don't hesitate to call me if you're having any difficulties. I'll be there in the blink of an eye.” She said before sending a kiss into the speaker, proceeding to hang up.

You sighed. It was never usual for you to ask for help, as you were an extremely prideful and independent person, and you doubted this time would be different.

“Don’t worry, dad. Everything will be alright.”

Three failed job interviews and one more to go. Your feet were killing you, the high heels covering them already worn out from walking to avoid taking the bus. Every penny counted, and as long as your legs worked, you weren't spending any more money than what was necessary.

You sat down in the waiting room of the company, massaging your neck to relieve some tension. College was becoming a burden. Maybe you'd take a semester off to focus on working, that is if someone wanted to hire an inexperienced student.

“Y/n, Y/l/n?”

“Here.” You darted up, gathering your belongings to enter the room on which your life almost literally depended.

You gave all the right answers, earning a polite ‘we’ll contact you’ in return. But you could see that they weren't convinced with your lack of experience, no company in their right mind would be.

As soon as you arrived at your apartment, you slid out of the uncomfortable pencil skirt, tucking yourself under the covers with your phone screen almost hitting your nose.

To take your mind off things, you decided to watch some videos. Halfway in, an ad popped up, interrupting the interior deco video you were watching.

A picture of a girl about your age hugging an older man was right in the middle of your screen. Written with fancy letters, the words ‘make your life simpler’ could be read, followed by what you guessed was the title of the app. Sugar rush.

Out of pure curiosity, your finger tapped at the small icon that led to the app store, absentmindedly clicking the download button. A few seconds later, an icon with the letters ‘SR’ was added to your home screen.

“Log in?” You murmured out loud, squinting your eyes to adjust your eyes to the bright, white homepage.

Just as you were about to click out, the phrase from the ad reappeared, stopping your finger from moving any further.

You could always delete your account if something went wrong, right? Nonetheless, you decided to use a false name, and that's how Melanie Kim’s profile was created. You left the circle of your profile picture empty for now, only filling the spaces that asked about your likes, dislikes, age, and all that stuff that people care about so much.

You knew what the app was for, but that didn't stop you from being surprised when a list of men and women of different ages greeted you. Right then, a small rectangle obstructed your sight, two buttons offering opposite things.

‘Pick the role you'd like to develop.’

Sugar daddy/mommy / Sugar baby.

Clearly, you didn’t have nor the money or the years to be the first, so you clicked the opposite button without giving it more thought.

‘Welcome. You've been registered as a sugar baby at Sugar rush. Meet thousands of men and women willing to finance you for free!’

You hummed.

‘As we're always looking to make our users’ experience better, we've developed Sugar Rush premium, a membership to meet the richest and hottest people in your surroundings. Get the premium version for only $5.95 a month. Click here to get Sugar Rush premium.’

Your finger pad was dangerously close to the blue button, almost grazing the screen of the phone. It was then when you were pulled out of your trance, blinking as if just then you'd realized what you were doing.

“I must be crazy.” You turned off your phone, not bothering to turn on an alarm for the next day. You had no interviews left. You had nowhere to go.

Waking up was getting harder with every passing day. Not being able to call your dad to go out for breakfast or even sending a simple good morning message hurt you deeply. You missed him. But seeing him laying down on a hospital bed, unable to do anything by himself, was even worse.

Ding

A notification filled the silence in your room.

‘Come back, you haven't finished setting up your account yet!’

You scoffed at your past self. What were you even thinking when you downloaded the app?

You simply turned off the phone before standing up to take a relaxing shower. As the water soaked up your tense body, your mind started wandering off back to the app. A million what-ifs filled your head, nonetheless, there was one that remained the most persistent.

‘What if this can pay for a lawyer?’

Your part-time job surely couldn't, and you had no one to assist you financially speaking. The whole idea of paying that ridiculous membership seemed more tempting as your fingers started getting wrinkly under the showerhead.

You decided to take some time to consider it, after all, you still had a week to give the lawyers an answer.

Hot soup seemed like a good option to comfort you, and thankfully, there was a store right in front of your place that claimed to sell the best soups in town.

It wasn't bad, but not nearly as good as the one your dad cooked when you were a kid. You sighed, wondering if you'd ever be able to eat it again. Just then, a woman about your age came into the shop, carrying a couple of bags where names of popular brands could be read. A pinch of jealousy made your heart stir as you glanced at yourself through the reflection in the glass at your side. You looked devastated, your skin pale and your cheekbones slightly sunken, a sign of the lack of rest and food you'd been getting.

Out of pure impulse, you pulled out your phone, clicked on the app you'd recently downloaded, and finally accepted the charges for a premium membership.

‘Welcome, new member of our wide community, click ok to get started!’

Well, no turning back now.

Right after pressing the blue letters with your thumb, you were presented with a list of potential prospects, some of them including pictures, some of them only including name and a brief description of what they were looking for. The minority included their ages, but most left the space blank.

A bunch of old men looking for a youthful, pretty woman to be by their sides, some of them even went as far as writing the weight and height their ideal partner should have. Of course, there were also some women in the look for young meat, but the number of men overpassed them.

About to exit the app in defeat, a profile caught your eye. His pale pink hair was parted, allowing his thick eyebrows to stand out. His high cheekbones made him look like a statue, the details in his face almost too perfect for a mere human. He must be the incarnation of a Greek God, you thought.

‘Jung Yoonoh. 41 years old. Owner of N & C.’

“Should I...?” You asked yourself in a voice lower than a whisper.

He has probably gotten hundreds of messages, so what would be the point of sending one yourself? Your eyes scanned the picture over and over again as the remains of your soup started getting cold.

He was probably the only acceptable man in the whole app, so why not give it a try?

You already spent five whole dollars on it, might as well make it worth the money.

‘Hi.’ Sent.

“Holy crap.” You breathed out, regretting every single action that led you to take such a stupid decision. “Ah!” You squeaked as three small dots appeared beside his profile picture, signaling he was writing a reply.

What if he rejected you right from the beginning? God, that would be so humiliating. His message stopped your train of thought.

‘Hi!’

Followed by:

‘How are you?’

Sweating like a pig, thank you for asking.

‘Fine. You?’ Read.

‘Thrilled. No one had messaged me since I created my account two weeks ago.’

‘How is that possible?’ You imprinted your thoughts on a message.

‘It’s hard to trust people nowadays. I guess people might think either my picture is photoshopped or I'm lying about my job.’

‘Their loss, ig.’ Read.

He was taking some time to answer. Had you said something inappropriate?

‘Hahaha.’

The conversation stopped there, as you didn't know how exactly to answer his message. But a few minutes later, another text from him popped up at your chat.

‘If you're okay with it, we can start talking about a possible arrangement.’

Already? You've known each other for like five minutes. But then again, arrangements were the whole purpose of the app.

‘Sure.’

‘May I ask your reasons for joining the app?’

‘I need urgent money, but my job doesn't pay nearly enough.’ You omitted the part of your agonizing father, he didn't need to know that. ‘And you?’

‘I need someone to be my partner at public spaces.’

‘Alright.’ Read.

‘Do you happen to have some free time tomorrow at lunchtime? I think it’d be better to meet first before making any decisions.’

‘Yeah, I'm free.’

‘Great, I’ll send you the address.’

You thought a day would be enough to prepare yourself, but time passed by quicker than usual, and soon enough, it was time to get ready for your meeting with Mr. Jung. He was only a few years younger than your father, and calling him by his first name wouldn't feel right.

Unsure if you should wear something formal, you threw on a beige (the color you'd agreed on wearing so it’d be easier to recognize each other) summer dress, pairing it with the gold hoops you'd inherited from your grandma to make it look more elegant.

The hardest part of your routine was makeup. Your sunken cheeks couldn't be covered, and only after a few layers of blush and highlighter, you could bring your skin back to life.

On your way to the cafe, you went through the things you'd say when you met him. It was your chance to get your father what he needed.

You stood at the entrance with wide, scared eyes, shyly scanning through the place to look for your date.

“Melanie?” A hand on your shoulder had you jolting. “I’m Jung Yoonoh, nice to meet you.”

What you saw after turning around was breathtaking. A handsome, healthy man, with the most beautiful pair of dimples.

“Nice to meet you.” You managed to blurt out without stuttering, extending your hand to make the greeting more formal. The fake name didn’t seem necessary anymore. “It’s actually y/n, I didn't want to use my real name.”

“I understand. Let’s take a seat.” He offered with a kind smile.

He left you seating at the terrace while he made your order, a latte, and a chocolate cookie. Your fingers played with your hoops anxiously, trying to regulate your breath.

“They’ll bring our food in just a sec.” He offered a warm smile. “Your dress is pretty.” Yoonoh said out of nowhere.

“Thank you.”

“I see you're not a chatty person.” You were about to object, but he started speaking again. “It's not a bad thing! I usually talk a lot, so it’s a nice way to balance things.”

You nodded, seemingly uncomfortable with the man sitting in front of you.

“So, uhm, this is my first time doing this, so I'm not really sure where to begin.” He pulled out a folded paper from the front pocket of his dressing pants. “It’s a bit creased, but I can always print another one. I brought it so you could take a look and let me know if you wanted to change anything. I don't mean to pressure you, but you said it was urgent, so...”

You read the paper under his attentive gaze, making sure not to miss a single word. Everything seemed correct, except...

“Six months?”

“Is that too much?” A small wrinkle formed between his eyebrows, a sign of deep concentration. “Okay, so let's do this instead.”

He took back the contract, pulling out a pen from the pocket in his dressing shirt to correct the original stipulations.

“Four months, and if by the end of them you don't absolutely hate me, we can extend the time. Deal?”

“Just one more thing.”

You cleared your throat, conscious that your following words might jeopardize the whole arrangement.

“Are you sure you want to make it official already?” You had to stop for a moment as the waiter left your orders on top of the wooden table. “I mean, it's not that I have a problem with it, but it's your money and maybe you'd like to give it a better thought.” You resumed.

“The fact that you're concerned about me proves I'm making the right choice. Now, tell me, how much would you like to receive as a weekly allowance?”

Would it be too reckless to ask him straight up for the $8,000?

“H-how much are you willing to give me?” You felt dirty, accepting a stranger’s money like that.

“Whatever you need.” His hand suddenly reached forward to yours, causing every ounce of blood in your body to rush to your face. “There’s no need to be embarrassed, I'm here to help you.” His voice tone dropped, acquiring an almost soothing feeling.

“I need eight thousand by Thursday, next week.” His eyes were wide open, mouth having difficulties remaining closed. “I-I know it's too much, but...”

“I can find a way to give you that money, but I'd like to know the reason why you need it. Just to make sure it's nothing illegal.”

You puffed your cheeks, trying to find an excuse good enough to justify the amount of money you were asking for.

“It isn’t illegal, is it?”

“No!” You retrieved your hand from below his, now embarrassed at the possibility of him having a bad image of you. “I need it for my father.”

“I suppose you don't want to talk about it.” He started at his palm, lips pressed in a thin life. “But when it comes to arrangements like this, we need to trust each other, alright?” You barely knew each other, yet, he demanded to know a very personal detail of your life. Not that he didn't have a good reason for wanting to know, it wasn't a particularly small amount of money.

“He had an accident at work...” You started, fearful of looking up to find pity in his eyes. “I need a lawyer to make his company legally responsible. They intend to throw it under the rug and pay a somewhat decent amount of money to make it go away. The firm I intend to hire is supposedly the best in town, probably my only chance of getting justice.”

“And why don't you just accept it? There's no guarantee that your lawyer will win the case.” You fisted the delicate fabric of your dress, eyes watering as you tried to hold back your anger.

“My father’s life is priceless, and if you think what I'm doing is a waste of money, then fine, we can both look for someone else to help us.” It sounded more aggressive than you'd first intended, but you meant every word that came out of your mouth.

Before you could even stand up, his slim fingers had already wrapped themselves around your wrist.

“I never said that.” He whispered with an almost sad tone. “Come on, sit down.”

He tugged at your arm the slightest, showing off his charming dimples once again.

“I’ll give you the money on one condition...” He raised one of his thick eyebrows. “I’ll go with you to see the lawyer.”

“Why...?”

“That’s my condition, take it or leave it.”

“Okay.”

The days before your meeting with your potential lawyer were nerve-wracking. You'd seen Yoonoh another time to sign the contract, which finally made your arrangement official.

You’d visit your father every day, always hoping he'd be sitting with his arms wide open, ready to hug you. But nothing had changed ever since he first came into that room.

“I’m here to see Mr. Kim.” The secretary's gaze lingered on Jaehyun a few seconds before he finally snapped out of it. “Y/n Y/l/n.”

“Just a second.” He opened his agenda and quickly found your appointment. With a warm smile, he guided you through the corridors of the building, all the way to the elevator. “It’s the only office on the last floor, I'll be at my desk if you need anything.”

Once again, he shot Jae an uneasy glance before the metal doors slid close.

“What was all that?” To be honest, you couldn't care less. But a small chat might calm your nerves and prevent you from throwing up all over the place.

“What do you mean?” He grinned, pressing the button to the top floor.

“You know what I mean.” You scoffed, annoyed at his evasive behavior.

“We just happen to know each other, nothing special.” Before the conversation could continue, a loud ding resonated through the metal cubicle. “Let’s go.” His hand found its place at the small of your back, pushing you towards the glass door. Through it, you could see a black-haired man reading a pile of documents, occasionally raising a photo to examine it with his gold-rimmed glasses supported at the bridge of his elegant nose.

Jaehyun extended his arm over your shoulder to knock on the door, earning an almost annoyed ‘come in’ from the man inside.

“Let’s go.” Once again invading your personal space, he reached for the doorknob with you trapped between his arms.

As soon as the door opened, the man raised his eyes from the documents he was checking.

“What are you doing here, Jung?”

“I knew something was off...” You murmured, loud enough for the man at your side to chuckle.

“I brought you a client, you should be happy.”

“Miss y/n, I suppose. Have a seat.” His demeanor completely changed while speaking directly to you. “I spoke with your aunt last week, she explained the details of the lawsuit, but I must say, it isn't an easy case.”

“I know that, but I've been told you're the best firm in town, I know I'll have more possibilities of winning if you're my lawyer.”

“Best firm in town my ass.”

“Be silent or I’ll kick you out of the building.”

That was enough for Yoonoh to zip his mouth. For a while at least.

“I suppose she also told you about our fee.” He pushed his glasses up using his thumb. “We’d also keep 25% of the lawsuit money assuming we win the case, is that okay with you?”

“Yes-”

“Okay, stop.”

“I’ll call security, Jung.”

“Look at me, y/n.” He squeezed your arms. “This clown is trying to scam you...” He pointed his finger at the lawyer without breaking eye contact. “You’d be spending loads of money for someone who isn't even confident in his abilities. It isn't worth it.”

“And I suppose you'd do better than me, then.” The black-haired man scoffed. “If that's the case, then you can both leave. I'm quite busy at the moment.” With a turn of his wrist, he signaled you to leave the room.

You were fuming, stomping out of the building with Jaehyun right behind you.

“I found a great restaurant nearby, we can go there and-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Calm down-”

“Don’t tell me to calm down when you just fucked up my only chance to give those bastards what they deserve.” The sun was starting to set, yellow light casting shadows over his tender cheeks.

“Can you listen to me for a second?”

“Are you laughing right now?” You bit your lip, hard, trying to hold back the tsunami of tears threatening to come out of your eyes. “Asshole.”

“Ouch.” He furrowed his eyebrows mockingly. Oh, how close you were to punch that pretty face of his. “Can I explain now?”

You remained silent, staring at the ground with the smallest frown between your eyebrows.

“How do you think I know Kim Doyoung?” Before even giving you a chance to answer, he continued. “That son of a bitch has been stealing my clients for ages.”

“Your clients...?”

“He isn't even that good of a lawyer compared to me.” He scoffed with fake arrogance.

“You're a lawyer?!” You slammed your palms into your face, whining at the newly acquired information. “Why didn't you tell me from the beginning?”

“Just wanted to swing by and annoy him a bit. Don't worry, I wasn't gonna let you accept his deal.” He winked playfully.

The sun was now hidden, the sky darkening as the moon rose to take its shift.

“Though I gotta say, I'm kinda offended I wasn't even an option. I'm a pretty great lawyer, you know?”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll forgive you if you join me for dinner. What do you say?”

As you walked into the darkness of the streets, his shoulder occasionally bumping yours, you wondered if meeting him was a casualty. Maybe the world was finally smiling at you.

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

~

Part ii: August

~

For the hope of it all

~

The river was crowded, but the pier was their own.

Happy Birthday Harzy, was spelled out in big balloon letters, turning in the summer breeze, backwards and bumping.

Logan stood at the waterfront and looked at Leo’s—as it was mostly Leo’s—handiwork. Lobster rolls and soft-shell crab buffet, corn bread and iced tea. Chilled white and orange wines. Summer dresses fluttered and crossed each other as people talked, making new patterns, and Logan let himself settle into the laughter. He had a bad habit of taking peace and worrying it away. He didn’t want to do that today. He wanted to watch Finn enjoy himself, his team, his family. Logan had spent every one of Finn’s birthdays with their Harvard team, and then there had been that one, horribly absent year when Finn had been in Gryffindor and he hadn’t—not yet. He wanted to watch the way Leo put his long arms around his friends, in the same way his mother did, warm and strong. Logan wanted to watch without feeling that sharp tug of worry. He couldn’t have even said what he was worrying about. It was vague.

He’d done a lot of watching this summer. He loved it to the point of never wanting to do anything else. Finn and Leo were alike to each other in more ways than Logan would ever be. Whatever rapid-fire conversation they were in the middle of would often quickly leave Logan behind, but Logan didn’t care as long as he got them stumbling and laughing over each other to try and explain it to him—a book, a TV show, some sort of video game. He knew they liked telling him about it, and Logan loved watching them love things—including himself. Logan had never thought of himself as acting as a grounding point before. That had always been Finn or Leo. He always felt too wild in his own head, unsure, reserved. Vague. But Leo had said it to him this summer.

“When me and Finn lived together, we stayed up so late just talking,” Leo had said one early morning on the beach when they had left Finn sleeping. Logan wouldn’t be quick to forget the feeling of just being able to hold Leo’s hand for so long, in such an open space.

Leo had kissed the back of his palm too many times for Logan to think he’d be forgetting it, either.

“And you and I did the same thing, you know?” Leo continued. “On roadies.”

“Playing cards,” Logan smiled. “And our sundaes.”

Leo nodded, and his smile grew a little softer. He stared at his toes digging into the sand. “And I knew how connected you two were. Well, I guess not how connected, but I knew you two were better friends than anyone on the team, even Sirius and James. Even if you didn’t always act like it. I feel like good friends can do that, handle distance and snap back into place.”

“And?” Logan remembered asking playfully. “Which long talks were better?”

Leo just laughed. “No, no. Not better. Finn talking is like…wild. Like wind. Talking to you is stillness. I love both. The point is, that was…that was my connection. To both of you.” He had cleared his throat then, and given Logan’s hand a squeeze. “My mama always says if you can talk to someone forever then—“

“They’re yours forever,” Logan finished. “My maman says the same thing.”

Leo’s answering smile had been blinding.

An arm circled his waist, another pressing right over his heart.

“Nice party,” Finn said softly into his ear, and Logan only had a moment in that warmth before it was gone, wary of prying eyes. It made Logan miss France, and their brief stay at his mother’s family home that summer.

No one had known them there, and Leo had adored the markets, cooking elaborate meals while Finn and Logan had sat on the counter, watching him and loving him. They’d eaten out on the stone patio, overlooking the sea.

Finn looked a little like he had there, cheeks sun-hot. Logan wanted to reach for them, as he had then, cool them with his thumb. Finn smiled, making the sun-kissed skin crease a little.

“What?” he asked.

Logan shook his head. “Remember that picture?” he asked. “The one of us. It was on your wall at Harvard, you were standing behind me, hand on my chest.”

Finn’s mouth quirked, and he nodded. Logan hesitated for a moment, realizing that Finn was wearing his NASA t-shirt, the same one he had worn the day he’d left Harvard for good, leaving Logan behind. Logan stared at the logo, then looked away, back up to his brown eyes. Bambi, the boys at Harvard had called him.

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know where it went. I know you packed it, took it with you, but I can’t find it. Do you know…”

Logan trailed off, as Finn had taken out his wallet. He set his beer on the pier ledge, flipped the worn leather open, and slipped out a folded piece of paper, thick, and well-loved. He held it out to Logan, biting his lip, and then leaned back against the railing, as if waiting.

Logan let the photo fall open in his fingers, and exhaled a shaky, steadying breath. There was a laugh in it somewhere.

“Oh,” he said.

“Didn’t know you were looking for it,” Finn replied, and trailed his fingers, cold from his beer, over Logan’s wrist, then reached up to fiddle briefly with his necklace.

Logan traced his eyes over the same, gaudy string lights in the photo, their same smiles—the one Logan knew he wore more freely these days.

Logan folded the picture closed again, and slipped it back into its place in Finn’s wallet.

“You want it, Lo?” Finn asked.

Logan shook his head. “I like that you have it.”

Finn stretched out a foot, ankle hooking around Logan’s, pulling him a little closer again, to stand nearly between his legs.

“I had it all that first year,” Finn smiled. “On my own.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

Finn grinned, singing off-key. “Pretending he’s beside me—”

Logan groaned, shoving his shoulder a little. “Okay, D’accord, I walked into that.”

Finn laughed loudly, and then swung his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go find Le, get more food.”

They strode towards the tables.

“Hey!” Evgeni called out. He was standing with Olli and Jackson, his looming form leaning over the pier. “Ten bucks I jump!”

“Kuns, you don’t want to swim in this river,” Finn said.

“He’s going in whether you pay him or not,” Jackson shook his head. “At some point tonight.” He grinned, the scar that ran down one of his cheeks dimpling when he smiled. “Bet you twenty.”

“Nado,” Evgeni gasped, slapping his arm. “We split. Even.”

“No fucking way.”

Logan let Finn lead him away from their bickering, towards where he could immediately spot Leo, standing with Remus and Thomas. Logan felt everything just—soften.

“Do you ever think you could just find him?” Finn asked softly, the hand around Logan’s shoulders gesturing in Leo’s direction. “I mean, even if you couldn’t see him. You know?”

“Ouais,” Logan said, voice just as soft. “I know.”

Leo was mid-laugh when he spotted them, too.

“I gotta say,” he said as he met them halfway, hand on his hip, sunglasses in his hair. “I did a pretty damn good job.”

Logan huffed out a laugh. “You did. Really good.”

Finn snorted. “Way to take the credit, Nut.”

“He deserves it,” Logan said. “I was just here.”

“Lo’s the gift master,” Leo swung his arm around his shoulders. “And I’m the food master. Sounds about right?”

Logan patted Leo’s chest. “Are you going to jump in?”

Leo raised his eyebrows, squinting out at the water. “Do I want to swim in this water?”

“I’d swim if it was with you two,” Finn said. “I’d risk the murky monsters of the deep.”

“You gotta wait twenty minutes after eating,” Leo said. “And I haven’t tried the soft serve yet. They have swirls, they have mango, I mean, come on. I did so good.”

Finn laughed. “And I’m going to kiss you stupid later.”

“And I’m going to hold you to that,” Leo leaned in a little. “Birthday boy.”

They found Sirius holding a cone out to Remus by the machine, and Remus wrinkling his nose.

“C’est la vanille!” Sirius was laughing. “Quoi? Really? You don’t like vanilla?”

“You do?” Remus shook his head.

“Y’all we’ve caught the couple splashed on the front of every magazine in a, dare I say,” Leo paused, “fight?”

“First it’s pineapple pizza, now it’s vanilla,” Remus reached up, pushing Sirius’ chin length hair out of his eyes. “What did I sign up for?”

“Carrying his hair ties for him, apparently,” Finn reached out and snapped the tie around Remus’ wrist.

Remus rolled his eyes, and Logan thought Sirius might have blushed. When Logan reached up to poke at his cheek, he slapped his hand away and Logan laughed.

Sirius dragged Remus away towards where Julian, Remus’ little brother, was calling them over to the beanbag toss, and, momentarily tucked behind the shade of the soft-serve station, Logan felt Leo pull the both of them closer.

“Pretty good beginning to the end of the summer,” he sighed, licking his own cone.

“It was a damn good summer,” Finn grinned. “Hey, give me.”

Logan watched Leo hold out his cone to Finn, and agreed. It had been more than a good summer. It had been a perfect summer, and something in that made Logan stupidly worried. Sun and salt, and cold wine, and hot bodies pressed together as the moon rose. Logan closed his eyes for a moment, tucked between the two of them, and tried not to ruin this peace by thinking about all the times peace hadn’t been there.

This was Finn’s day. This was their season. Logan tilted his chin up and let the sweet mango of Leo’s ice cream sweeten his thoughts.

~

Noelle wasn’t at Finn’s party, and Thomas could feel it. He fiddled with the new, thin gold hoops she’d gifted him, barely circling away from his ears, the left one with a pearl strung along.

I’m the lucky one who found you, she’d said.

And he’d had to go and ruin it by trying to be funny, even while tears were pressing up as close to him as she was.

What does that make us, oysters?

She’d laughed, looked happy, but Thomas wished he’d said something else. He wished he had gotten something for her. He wished she wasn’t so far away.

I miss you, he tapped out on his phone, and that felt perfectly honest. Simple. Enough.

The three dots popped up and then went away. Thomas tried not to let it mean anything. She deserved to be busy. She worked just as hard—harder—than he did. Still, something like relief flooded through him when a long string of pink hearts answered him.

I miss YOU, T baby. Good party?? Tell Harzy happy bday for me.

Thomas blew out a breath. Will do. Say hi to the girls for me.

“You look like sad sunshine,” Natalie’s voice came, and he looked up to see her walking towards him, taking a sip from a honey colored beer with a lime wedged into it.

“I’m a little sad, Sunshine, like it or not,” Thomas laughed softly, pocketing his phone. “Where are the boys?”

“Canoodling,” Natalie sighed, hopping up onto one of the stools beside him under the umbrella. She had her long blond hair swept up into two french braids. “We’re both getting in our last drops of Alex, I think.”

Thomas nodded. “Hey, I never really asked, Nat. That just…happened this summer, or what?”

Natalie smiled. “Well, when I met Kasey, he hadn’t made it big yet, still on the Rangers farm team, but Alex had been on the Rangers for…maybe about a year? I can’t quite remember. I think Kase had only gotten called up a few times, so they’d met. But anyway, we start dating, two years later he gets a big boy contract with the Rags, and we get to know Alex. I saw him at team dinners only at first.” She smiled. “I was like, cutie, look at those freckles. But I had Kase, you know? I was pretty confused when I started looking a little closer. I mean, I was so happy.”

She pushed her sunglasses into her hair, leaning an elbow on the table and fiddling with a gold necklace at her throat that had the number 30 strung across the leather cord. Thomas wondered if she was going to add a 28 to that, Alex’s number, or if she’d get another one. He wondered if Noelle would want something like that. Maybe they could wear each other’s. He liked the thought.

“Well,” Natalie said. “I was confused until I noticed Kasey looking, but he wasn’t pulling away from me and I thought, hey…maybe this is something?”

“But that was how many years ago?”

Natalie took another drink. “No, yeah, nothing ever happened. Actually, I think they kissed once or twice. Roadies, you know? But Kasey gets traded, and then Finn arrived and we were like, wow, cruel joke.”

Thomas laughed. “I bet. But it meant Alex comes around again.”

She grinned. “That it did.”

Thomas held his drink up for a cheers. “Guess we owe those Cubs a lot.”

She clinked their bottles together. “Life’s weird. But, yeah, it happened this summer officially. Went to the O’Hara Hampton house, and I think we just loved being together. I forgot a little, how wonderful Alexander is. But,” she was smiling wildly again. “I woke up one morning and the boys had gone on a walk, they got back three hours later holding hands, Alex kissed me, and something changed. Maybe they worked through some history of theirs. We’re his now, he’s ours, whatever you want to call it.” She laughed. “Pretty good for a morning’s work.”

“Pretty good,” Thomas repeated.

“I’m worried it’ll be hard, though,” she sighed, chest rising and falling dejectedly. “He’s all the way in Florida and we’re here, together.”

Thomas glanced back down at his phone. “Yeah.”

“I bet that makes me sound like a snob to you,” she reached out and squeezed his hand.

He waved her off. “No, no, I just…we’re new, me and Noelle. Sometimes I worry that we’re too new for…for this.”

Natalie shook her head. “I think distance is distance. And, if it doesn’t work, it isn’t the physical space between two people. It’s a different sort of far away.”

Thomas tapped his fingers against his glass. “You just have something to say for everything, huh, Nat?”

She grinned. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

Thomas snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

“Come on,” she said. “I’m going to whip your ass a ring toss.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

~

“Apparently they closed down a bunch of streets,” Remus was saying, still bleary-eyed and waking up as Sirius made the coffee. “That’s awesome.”

“It’s a parade. Of course,” Sirius said as he pushed the lid of their french press down.

Remus looked up to see him smiling and rolled his eyes, laughing, “Okay, sure, but it’s still crazy. They say it’s going to bigger than the Cup Parade was in June.”

That made Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Remus hummed in agreement, clicking his phone off and popping his back. “Well. I know Pride is in June, but I’m happy we get to do this, too.”

Sirius nodded, sliding onto the stool beside Remus with two waiting mugs. “Captain gets the Cup last. I don’t make the rules.”

Remus just yawned and let his temple fall against Sirius’ shoulder, closing his eyes as Sirius’ warm palm came to brush over his hair and neck.

“September is in two weeks,” Remus mumbled. “How the hell did that happen?”

Sirius poured their coffee and pressed a kiss against Remus’ hair. “You’ll be fine.”

“Hm?”

“I know you’re nervous for training camp. You’ve seen it a million times, though.”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed and sat up pulling his steaming mug close. “Seen it.”

Sirius laughed, going to the refrigerator for the milk. His hair was in dark, glorious tangles, and Remus vaguely wondered how much time they had before they needed to get ready.

“I meant,” Sirius leaned over the island and poured them both milk before capping it again and going for the brown sugar. Remus smiled when he realized that Sirius had picked that up from Remus’ mom, Hope. “I meant that you know it never comes across like…like some insane competition for spots.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “It is, though. I mean, not for the Sirius Black, but…”

“D’accord,” Sirius nodded. “Okay, okay. But you know what I mean?”

“I’m not worried about the team,” Remus said as Sirius came to sit down again. “I’m worried I’m not going to make the team.”

Sirius shook his head, set his mug down, and all but pulled Remus off of his stool to gather him close. Remus mumbled something about cold coffee, but smiled as he let himself be kissed good morning, kissed calm, kissed loved.

“I’m not worried,” Sirius whispered, and kissed him some more.

Remus had barely shut his car door—having opened it to cheers—before he was getting an armful of his little brother.

“Oof,” Remus grunted, but squeezed him, lifting him off of his feet. “Nice outfit, Jules.”

Julian jumped back, his Lupin Lions Pride jersey actually fitting him for once. “Thanks, dad found it for me.”

“He insisted on wearing it,” Hope Lupin smiled as she walked up. “But you’re going to roast so tell me when you want your t-shirt, baby, it’s in my bag. Hi, Re.”

“Hi, mom,” Remus let her kiss his cheek a few times.

“Salut,” Sirius grinned from beside him. Remus watched them hug, warmed more deeply than by the heat. Hope patted Sirius’ chest where a faded rainbow twelve was printed on his t-shirt. Remus was going to steal that thing as soon as he took it off.

“What a party!” Hope grinned. “Is someone grilling? Thought I smelled it.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, they got this restaurant downtown to bring BBQ.”

“Is there ice cream?” Julian said, huffing. “I’m hot.”

Sirius plucked at his jersey jokingly. “Mais, ouais, it’s almost ninety!”

Hope laughed, and put a hand on Julian’s back. “I’ll get him cooled off. Your dad’s around here somewhere with Pascal. Meet you on the float in ten. And make sure you’re wearing sunscreen!”

Remus watched his family wind their way through the colorful, crowded streets, felt Sirius’ fingers lace through his own, and smiled.

The sun did beat down hot, but Remus didn’t mind so much, not when they were filed onto the float that was equipped with a red and gold Lions head roaring at the front and rainbow streamers at the back, like an extension of the mane. The Cup sat on a high pedestal between them, strapped in shining.

The crowd was wild. People were hanging out of the tall parking garage that lined one side. The pavement was painted in thick strips of rainbow in some places, and red and gold in others.

Gryffindor loved their Lions. It almost made Remus want to cry, seeing how happy Sirius was. Half of the team was on their float, some of them walking beside. Remus spotted Logan sporting a rainbow brimmed hat walking with Kasey and returned the peace sign Logan sent up.

“Everyone is decked out, man,” James shouted in Remus’ ear from beside him, Harry on his hip. He and Lily had returned in time for Finn’s birthday. He was wearing a Lions Pride shirt, and Harry had a tiny one to match and a sunhat that practically covered his entire body that Lily kept coming over to adjust. James grinned. “Damn. Good Cup Day.”

“It’s not my Cup Day,” Remus laughed. “But I do sort of feel like this is my day.”

James just smiled, pointing at people for Harry to wave at. “Maybe won’t have to make that distinction next year, eh? Look, Har, see the flags? You want one, bud?”

“Re,” Sirius leaned in, and Remus felt his hand on his back. “Want to walk a bit?”

Remus nodded, eyes finding where Leo, Jackson, Evgeni, and Olli were walking together, keeping time with the floats and talking to the crowd. Leo had a rainbow flag painted on one cheek, Natalie’s work.

Remus felt for his own hat, flipping the colorful brim backwards as he hopped down.

“Hey,” Jackson grinned, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. Evgeni had one of Sergei’s daughters in his arms, chatting with the crowd. He wasn’t wearing Jackson’s rainbow-striped shirt, but it looked like one of the kids had stuck two stickers on one of his cheeks that he wasn’t bothering removing. Remus wondered if he was worried, about his family, or his country, like he had told Sirius. It sent a wave of thankfulness through him, the fact that he was here.

“Nado,” Remus hugged Jackson. “Jesus, seriously, what did you do this summer? You look fit, man.”

“You see him,” Evgeni called over, handing a sharpie back to someone wrapped almost entirely in a flag covered with glitter. “Stare in the mirror, in love.”

“I don’t,” Jackson protested.

Evgeni just shrugged, spinning Sergei’s daughter around. “I’m see you.”

“Well, hand some over,” Remus said.

Jackson just gave him a shake. “You’re going to make the team.”

“Maybe,” Remus groaned out a laugh, knocking him away.

“No maybes,” Sirius said, sidling up to Remus’ side and replacing Jackson’s arm.

“Sirius! Cap!” someone called, and Remus felt Sirius tense a little, as he always did in crowds, or media.

The person calling had short brown hair and seemed to have tailored a loose jersey of Sirius’ into a form-fitting dress. The sleeves were cut and hemmed by the twelves on the sleeves.

“Salut!” they said, accent stiff, and laughed. “I tried.”

That seemed to ease Sirius a little, and Remus tugged him to a stop.

“Salut,” Sirius smiled. “Wow, that’s my jersey?”

They nodded, eyes sliding over to Remus. “It is. My girlfriend was hoping to have a Lupin one so we can match, but…”

The girl beside her, black hair tucked up in a bandana, smiled and threw her hands up. “When are they stocking those! I have two hundred bucks I’m ready to drop, I mean, let’s go before I second guess myself!”

Remus laughed. “Oh man, I’ve been there.”

“With my jersey, ouais?” Sirius grinned was teasing as he signed an autograph and Remus blushed.

“Here,” Sirius took out his phone. “You can give me your phone number, if you’re okay with it, and I’ll get you one? Yeah?”

“Oh…are you kidding?” the girl put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I…yes, Cap, you can have my phone number, sure fucking thing.”

They moved along the crowd easily. Sirius grabbed the Cup at one point, walking it along for people to touch just as their entire team had in June. Remus stayed well away.

“No jinxes here,” an older man in a Lions Pride shirt laughed, his arm around his son. He held out his hand. “My entire family’s been Lions fans for generations. Glad to have you on the team.”

His son, the very image of his father, smiled and tentatively held out a sharpie. “Would you sign my shirt? I’ve seen your tapes and everything, I…you’re my favorite. I was thinking about getting out of hockey before you.”

Remus blinked. “I…” he took the sharpie, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “I’m glad you’re staying. Are you a defenseman?”

He lit up. “How’d you know?”

Remus shrugged, smiling. “You hold yourself like one.”

“I hope that’s a good thing!” Remus heard Olli call from a little ways down.

He laughed. “How did you hear that?”

Remus signed the boy’s shirt, thanked him, and jogged a little to catch up with Sirius.

“I’ll take that,” Jackson grinned, and plucked the Cup from Sirius’ grasp.

“It’s my Cup Day!” Sirius laughed, but wrapped his arm around Remus instead. “Hi.”

“That was my first signature,” Remus said softly, to Sirius only, and Sirius squeezed his shoulders.

“The first of many.”

It was a bit of a blur after that. Natalie brought them ice cream and cold lemonade, which turned Sirius’ kisses even sweeter when they made it back home, out of the heat and stumbling, happy and sun-kissed. Sirius’ entrance hall was dark to Remus’ unadjusted eyes, and he focused on his palms, splayed over Sirius’ broad back. He yelped when a voice rang out from the living room.

“We’re on the couch!” Regulus shouted. “Just so you know!”

Sirius broke the kiss, looking flushed and dazed. “What…why?”

“I live here!” Regulus’ voice called back.

Remus suppressed a smile, and leaned his forehead against Sirius’ chest, trying to calm his breathing and any flush of arousal that had been beginning to stir up.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore. “How did he get home before us?”

“Who’s we?” Remus called out.

“Howdy,” Leo’s voice came.

Sirius sighed. “It’s my Cup Day.”

Remus gave his hip a short pat before walking down the hallway and rounding the corner to find Leo and Regulus slouched on the couch, AC on full blast.

“Right,” Remus nodded. “You’re suppose to be helping Reg pack for school.”

Regulus glanced up from his phone. “There’s twenty different gifs of you jumping down from the float and turning his hat backwards on Twitter.”

Remus blinked. “What?” He didn’t even remember doing that.

Leo nodded, crunching a potato chip. “And we’ve only been looking for ten minutes.”

“Huh,” Sirius said, turning towards the kitchen. He stopped, hesitated for a moment, and turned back. “Let me see.”

Remus huffed out a laugh. “I need water.”

“Donne-moi!” Sirius demanded of Regulus, grabbing for his phone.

“You have your own phone!” Remus made out Regulus’ reply in French.

Remus filled his glass, downed in, and was filling it again when Leo came into the kitchen, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thought I’d leave the brothers to fight. Can’t believe I used to be scared of both of them.”

Remus laughed, too. “Right?”

Remus watched Leo grab a glass, spinning his own slowly around on the counter. “Are you…”

Leo glanced up. “Hm?”

Remus took a breath. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but I know today must’ve been a little…” he took his hat off, the colorful bill bright against the dark stone of the counter.

Leo nodded in understanding, sliding onto a stool. “It wasn’t…hard. It was actually good to see all of the support. I could see it in Finn and Logan, too. Logan is nervous.” He nodded to himself. “More nervous than me and Finn. Understandably. I mean, you know how long he and Finn…” Leo shook his head. “I was happy he got to see that. And Finn was happy, I know, too. Maybe we’ll start making plans. I mean, this summer was just fucking heaven. Just being together. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

“Me too,” Remus sat on the stool beside him. They smiled at each other, then laughed. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“I am, too,” Leo grinned. “All right, I think me and Reg have to actually put his clothes in suitcases now.”

“Good luck.”

“That boy owns, like, five t-shirts,” Leo drained his glass and put it in the sink. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus grabbed a third glass and followed Leo back into the living room where they found Sirius leaning over the back of the couch, squinting at Regulus’ phone. He did a double take when he spotted Remus.

“Hey, where’s your hat?”

Remus snorted. “I’m not a twitter gif. C’mon, I need a shower.”

Regulus raised a teasing eyebrow. “And you need him for that?”

Remus stuck out his tongue. “Yeah.”

Sirius flicked the back of Regulus’ head. “Go pack.”

Remus tugged his t-shirt off on their way up the stairs. “That was wonderful, but fuck do I wish it wasn’t a thousand degrees.”

“I don’t know,” came Sirius’ reply from behind him as they entered their bedroom, followed by his hands on Remus’ hips and his lips against his neck. “When it’s hot, your hair sticks to your neck just…” he kissed just by Remus’ ear gently. “Here.”

Remus bit back a smile. “With sweat.”

“It’s handsome, I think.”

Remus laughed, turning in Sirius’ arms. He was summer tan and happy. Remus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that grin, one that was more and more present lately. Sirius laughed and made small talk with fans who asked for pictures—even today, he had seemed to almost enjoy the crowds and the media. Remus touched his number twelve necklace. He brought it to his lips. “You’re handsome.”

They stepped into the shower together and stood in the peace and quiet of the beating down water, turned cool against their heated skin. Remus rested his head against Sirius’ chest, and smiled when he felt Sirius lace their fingers together. It wasn’t exactly a new thing anymore, but it still felt new. It had been that way when James, Lily, and Harry had first arrived home and Sirius had done it on the table between them at the restaurant, just as it had been early in June, when Sirius had done it while they waiting in line to board their plane.

Remus looked up, squeezing his hand, and Sirius bent to take Remus’ mouth against his own again. It was softer, but Remus felt just as giddy from the day’s events. A parade. A Cup Day.

He wanted one of his own.

“Love you, mon loup,” he smiled. “Thank you for today.”

Remus ran his hand over Sirius’ broad shoulders. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Sirius whispered back. “You are part of me allowing myself things.”

Remus felt his expression soften.

“Heather explained it that way,” Sirius said. “I thought it was well put.”

Heather, the team’s sports psychiatrist. Remus had only actually met her a few times, but Sirius valued her highly, had called her a few times during the off season.

“I like it, too,” he said, and let Sirius pull him close again.

They threw the windows open to let the cooling breeze in once they were back downstairs, and Sirius put steaks on the grill for the two of them.

“Where’d Reg and Nut go?” Sirius asked.

“I think out with some of the boys,” Remus said, and followed as Sirius went back out to the patio. He notched his hip against the door frame. “Hey, do you want to go to the rink tomorrow? All this Cup talk has got me wanting to skate, like, now.”

Sirius tilted his head back and laughed. “With you? Always.”

Remus grinned and padded back over to the counter where the salad was waiting for dressing.

“I’m glad we didn’t end up having everyone over,” Remus said as he tossed it. “As much as I love them.”

Sirius hummed, sliding the screen door of the deck closed. He set the plate and tongs down before wrapping his arms around Remus.

“As much as I love them,” he repeated quietly, lips brushing against Remus’ neck. “I want you all to myself right now.”

Remus leaned back against him. “My thoughts exactly, baby.”

Sirius smiled against his skin. “Glad we’re on the same page. Vanilla hater.”

Remus pinched his arm. “Pineapple hater.”

~

Cole woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting down to his room from the kitchen—and Katie Dumais curled up at the foot of his bed.

He jumped a little, and then sat up slowly. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t asleep, but that she was fiddling with a little charm bracelet, her eyes down.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, Katie.”

She looked up, and a grin lit up her face. “Mom says breakfast is ready. I didn’t want to wake you up, even though she told me to.”

He sat up a little more. “How long ago was that?”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe four hours?”

Cole blinked, and picked up his phone from his nightstand. It was eight-thirty. He glanced back at Katie.

“Can you tell time?” he asked slowly.

“Not really,” she sighed happily, and kept fiddling with her bracelet. “You still have rainbow paint on your face.”

Cole laughed, rubbing a hand over his cheek, where Lily Potter had painted a flag the day before, for the parade. Where the Stanley Cup had been.

It still all felt surreal to say.

“Okay. Um, tell her I’ll be up in a second, okay?”

Katie nodded. “Okay!”

Cole listened to her footsteps scamper all the way up the stairs before he flopped back down on his pillows and chuckled to himself. He gave his teeth a quick brush and followed.

“Bon matin,” Celeste smiled as she flipped a few more pieces of bacon onto a plate. “How did you sleep? I think that heat yesterday tired everyone out.”

Cole slid onto a stool beside Marc and Louis, Katie to his right. “Really good, thanks.”

“The air conditioner isn’t acting up again?” Celeste asked. “Logan was always having trouble with that thing.”

“It didn’t turn on right away, but I fixed it,” Cole smiled when she set a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and fruit in front of him, and then another plate with toast. “My mom’s big with her tool kit, so, I mean, if you ever need anything around the house, I know some stuff. Just so I can…help out. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Celeste beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not just letting you stay. We’re very happy you’re here. Someone your age shouldn’t be alone, especially with all the pressure that comes with this job. But I will absolutely take you up on that. You wouldn’t know how to build me some planters, would you? Pascal bought the wood ages ago,” she turned back to the sink, waving a spatula. “Always saying he will take care of it, and yet there it sits!”

Cole laughed softly. “Yeah, I can do that. Sounds good.”

“Well, good,” Celeste smiled, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Now, Pascal is with Sergei for an ice session—which you’re always invited to, he says, by the way—I’m taking Louis to tennis, and Marc to space camp. Layla will be here soon, but do you mind looking after Katie until she gets here? Adele’s up in her room if you have any questions. She’ll know.”

Cole nodded, trying to swallow the eggs quickly. “Of course. No problem.”

Celeste smiled. “She loves you enough already, she’ll be no trouble.”

“She’s always trouble,” Louis mumbled.

Celeste tisked, but kissed his head. “Come on, up. Cole, you have some of the boys’ numbers, too, right?”

“Um,” Cole thought of Sirius Black’s number in his phone from when he called him. “Yes?”

“Good. I know you don’t have a car yet, and you’re always welcomed to ours when it’s available, but if you ever need a ride anywhere, I’m sure any one of them will drive you.”

Cole, for the life of him, didn’t think he would ever be able to bring himself to call Sirius Black up and ask him to drive him to, what, Target? Jesus.

“Right,” Cole tried for a smile and knew it came out nervous. “Thanks.”

Katie did turn out to be a pretty easy kid. Even if she did seem to switch activities at a rapid pace. She drew, and then she watched half of a TV show, and then she was hungry, but she did all of it herself. After less than 30 minutes she had parked both of them on the couch where they were stringing beads for necklaces.

“I’ll make you Lions colors,” she said seriously.

That had been Cole’s best—and only—idea. He glanced at the multi-colored kit. “What colors do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Cole smiled. “All right. What’s your charm bracelet?” He nodded to the small silver ring around her wrist.

“It’s from Tremzy,” Katie thrust her wrist forward. “He gets me one every one of my birthdays. There’s a hockey stick, because we love hockey, and an ice cream cone, because we love ice cream, and this is a book because we read together, and—”

There was the ding that told Cole that Layla had arrived, coming in from the garage, and Katie was off again.

“Hi,” Cole said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Layla looked up from trying to put her things down and hug Katie at the same time. “Hey, Cole.”

“How’s it going?” Cole asked, feeling decidedly more prepared this time. Layla was in a green tank-top today, but her same shorts and gold rings.

“Busy,” she laughed. “I actually have my first orientation this evening, at the rink.”

Cole nodded. “Nice. I’ve never actually been inside. Well, not yet, I guess.”

Layla straightened at that. “Well…I’m driving over once Celeste gets home, just to see the place first.” She seemed to take a breath. “Do you want to come with?”

~

They didn’t have full gear, but the chilled rink was a relief against the sweat they worked up anyway. Remus borrowed a helmet—his own hadn’t been sent out yet—and used his old, worn in CCM skates.

“I can still beat you in these,” Remus panted as he skated backwards, tapping the puck back and forth and trying to gauge which way Sirius was going to dodge first.

“Oh, I know,” Sirius said, then lifted his right foot and went left.

Remus knocked the puck out of his stick towards the boards, and it sent them both chasing it.

“You use that trick too much!” Remus laughed, it echoing across the empty rink, as he shoved Sirius against the glass, the puck trapped between his skate blade and the foot of the boards.

“What about this one?” Sirius said, and turned to press their mouths together. Remus smiled into it, and it was enough to allow Sirius to steal the puck back.

“No!” Remus laughed as Sirius carried the puck expertly across the blue line, winding his stick up and taking a deadly slap shot, notching it perfectly in the upper left corner of the empty goal.

He dropped to a knee, sliding into a celebration before wrapping around the goal with a final whoop and crashing back into Remus for another kiss.

“Wanna run plays?” Sirius asked. “I’ll be your center if you’ll be my winger.”

Remus smiled as they reset themselves, pushing the used pucks towards the boards. “That might not happen.”

“Maybe I have more pull than you think.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not that much, baby. What’s going to happen is I’ll start on the fourth line, go from there. Anything else and every journalist in the city would go batshit crazy.”

Sirius just scooped another puck into the goal, then hooked his arms over his stick, the body behind his neck. “Wouldn’t be our first time causing that.”

Remus smiled. “True.” He nudged Sirius towards center ice. “Face-off.”

Sirius took his helmet off to push his hair back. “Let’s do it.”

Remus was just tugging off his shirt, smiling as he listened to Sirius rattle of plans for the season, when he heard two voices laughing from the hallway. Sirius’ smile dropped, and he narrowed his eyes at the door.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said. “Hey, where are we meeting the guys for—”

“Should we check out the locker room?” one of the outside voices said—higher. “Do you think it’s open?”

“Non,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, grabbing for the back of his own shirt.

The door opened hesitantly at first, then wider, revealing Layla and Cole.

Cole flushed, and Layla’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Sorry, we didn’t think…”

Remus glanced at Sirius, but when he didn’t say anything, just pretending to fiddle grumpily with his bag, he waved them off.

“Hey, we were just swinging by for a quick skate. It’s not our locker room,” he smiled. “Well, not only ours. You guys have the same idea?”

“Not skating, maybe,” Layla replied, twisting one of her braids around her finger. She looked up at Cole, who still looked like he thought he was in the wrong place, and smiled. “But neither of us have really gotten to look around yet, so, we thought we would.”

Remus smiled, using his dirty t-shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. “Nice. Well, maybe Cap and I can give you a tour or something some time.”

Sirius glanced up. “Marls does that.”

Remus tried to send Sirius a look with his eyes, but Sirius just glanced mournfully towards what Remus thought might be the video review room.

“Well…” Remus said hesitantly.

“We’ll keep looking around,” Layla said quickly. “See you guys around.”

Remus watched them to make sure the door was closed, then turned and punched Sirius in the arm.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked.

“Grumpy.”

“I liked it just us,” Sirius mumbled. “I thought we could plan plays or—or watch tape.”

Remus laughed, pressing his forehead to Sirius’ chest. “You’re such a baby.”

One corner of Sirius’ mouth raised. “So?”

“You wanted the rookie to stop making moon eyes at you,” Remus said. “Here’s your chance.”

“D’accord,” Sirius’ grin spread as he gathered Remus closer by his hips. “But will you keep making moon eyes at me?”

Remus leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I’m going to ask them to lunch. Wait here, Captain, you scare the rookie.”

“I don’t,” Sirius sighed, and Remus pushed out the locker room door.

“Hey,” Remus jogged to catch up as Cole and Layla turned at his voice. “Us and some of the other guys are planning to get lunch. How about it? You, too, Layla.”

Layla blinked. “Seriously?”

Remus laughed. “Team lunch isn’t a team lunch without the PT. Or, one of them, at least.”

Layla grinned. “Right. Well, I’d love to.”

Cole nodded quickly. “I—yeah. Yeah, cool. That rooftop place again?”

“You’re already picking up on team favorites, I see.”

Cole smiled sheepishly. “Kuny makes us go there every time.”

“It’s the sushi,” Remus laughed. “He’s a man obsessed. Well, cool. Meet you there in twenty?”

Layla jingled her keys. “See you there.”

“Sushi,” Evgeni all but moaned as he picked up a piece of yellowtail.

“Jesus, Kuns,” Jackson said. “You can’t eat all of that by yourself.”

Evgeni was chewing with his eyes closed. “You don’t know.”

“All right,” Thomas leaned forward, folding his sunglasses into his shirt in the shade of their umbrella. “What do we think this season, boys? Predictions, let me hear them.”

They all looked to Sirius first, who leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back of Remus’. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Rangers,” he said finally.

“Uh-huh,” James nodded.

“Same,” Layla said, taking a spoonful of her miso soup.

“Caps, maybe,” Sirius continued.

“Definitely,” Remus said.

“I’m feeling Avs?” Thomas offered. “And I don’t want to say Snakes, but…yuck.”

“More like Vegas,” Remus said.

The table paused, and Remus just shook his head.

“It’s true,” he said, glancing at Cole and Layla, trying to decide if they’d noticed the shift in the air. He had to be able to talk about this. About him. "They’re deep this year.”

“Yeah,” Cole said softly. “Greyback’s killer.”

Remus felt the entire table tense and felt immediately guilty. Cole didn’t know what he had said, and Remus all but watched him wonder if he’d said something wrong.

“And us,” Thomas grinned, slapping Cole on the back. “We’ve got Lupin now. We’ve got Reyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but laughed. He tried to express his thanks silently, and Thomas winked at him.

This felt different. He had known it would. Team dinners would be his dinners now, not a friendly tag-along invite. Driving to practice with Sirius, they would go through almost the same routine, not split off for his office and the locker room. These were his teammates. He’d win and lose with them, and they with him, in a way they hadn’t before. Sitting there, in the sunshine that was going to turn colder, Remus looked forward to a year of this.

[bloody-bee-tea]

I'm sure someone has already suggested this but "I never feel like this grumpy asshole when you're around. I feel like... me. the real me... " from the grump/sunshine prompts for mingcheng?

Wavelength

Nie Mingjue knows that there’s something weighing on Jiang Cheng’s mind because he can see all the signs.

He had to read a lot of them in the beginning of their relationship—Jiang Cheng perpetually unsure and insecure—but he thought they had grown out of it. Had hoped so, really, but apparently not.

Because right now Jiang Cheng is staying uncharacteristically quiet during dinners, flinches when Nie Mingjue tries to touch him and he can’t meet his eyes for longer than a few seconds.

And it hurts Nie Mingjue to see.

He doesn’t know what caused this—though a treacherous part of his brain tells him that Jiang Cheng is finally fed up with him—and he’s not sure if he can ask. It doesn’t seem like Jiang Cheng is ready to share yet, and pushing him right now would probably only make it worse.

Instead he decides to wait it out for now; Jiang Cheng usually either breaks and tells him or he goes back to normal without saying anything, whatever issue apparently internally solved.

It used to work pretty well like that in the past, and Nie Mingjue is willing to go back to that no matter if it breaks his heart to see Jiang Cheng flinch when he reaches for him or not.

But when it continues like this for over a week—longer than anything ever really has—he decides that he has to say something.

It’s starting to seriously affect their relationship and Nie Mingjue doesn’t want to risk it. He needs to know, if only so that he can put Jiang Cheng’s mind at ease.

Nie Mingjue tries to ignore the little voice in his head that tells him that Jiang Cheng finally has had enough, that he’s going to break up with him like he should have done a thousand times over because if that is the case, then so be it.

He loves Jiang Cheng too much to keep him trapped in something that makes him unhappy.

“My heart, what’s wrong?” he asks one day over dinner, that they yet again spent in complete silence as Jiang Cheng pushed his food around the plate.

“Why does anything have to be wrong?” Jiang Cheng snaps out and that too, only shows that something is wrong.

Jiang Cheng stopped snapping at him with such malice a long time ago.

Sure, he still snaps and he’s still mean sometimes, but never like this. Nie Mingjue can’t accurately explain it, has never found the right words for it, but the way Jiang Cheng snaps at him is different than the way he snaps at people he genuinely thinks to be stupid, even though not many other people can see it.

“Because you’re acting strange. You’re not acting like yourself,” Nie Mingjue gives back, not rising to the obvious bait, and it only makes Jiang Cheng angrier.

“What do you know?” he hisses, but Nie Mingjue meets his gaze evenly.

“Yeah, right. What do I know after almost three years of relationship, after knowing you for at least seven years. How could I ever possibly know that you’re not acting like yourself right now. How stupid of me,” Nie Mingjue tells him and he watches as genuine regret flashes over Jiang Cheng’s face.

“I’m not—”

“Just tell me if you’re not ready to talk to me yet, but don’t pretend that I don’t notice these things about you,” Nie Mingjue tells him as he gets up to clear the table.

It seems like neither of them are going to continue eating at this point so what’s the use in pretending.

Nie Mingjue busies himself with putting the dishes away but he keeps an ear out for Jiang Cheng, who doesn’t seem to be doing anything besides sitting at the table.

It isn’t until all the dishes are put away, that Nie Mingjue rests his hands on the counter and drops his head.

“I know that you’re not angry with me, not really, but whatever it is it’s eating away at you and I guess I just want to—if you’re going to break up with me, just tell me, alright?” Nie Mingjue whispers, not able to meet Jiang Cheng’s eyes over that.

“Why would I break up with you?” Jiang Cheng asks him and he sounds genuinely confused, so Nie Mingjue dares to hope that he’s not going to do that.

“You’re avoiding me; my touch, my eyes. You’re not even talking to me over dinner anymore; I miss your rants about work,” Nie Mingjue huffs out with a small laugh. “I don’t know what to think.”

There’s a long silence in the kitchen, one that worries Nie Mingjue more than anything before, but then he can hear Jiang Cheng standing up, his chair scrapping along the floor and before Nie Mingjue can snap at him to properly lift the chair Jiang Cheng wraps his arms around his middle.

He presses close, presses his face right into Nie Mingjue’s shoulder and then he just breathes there for a moment.

Nie Mingjue dares to think that they will be alright.

“You don’t have to tell me yet, if you’re not ready,” Nie Mingjue tells him again, trying to reassure Jiang Cheng that he’s not going to pressure him over this, but Jiang Cheng shakes his head.

“I think I do,” he whispers. “But—don’t turn around? Can I tell you like this?” he then asks and Nie Mingjue puts his hand over Jiang Cheng’s on his stomach.

“Of course. Whatever makes you comfortable, my heart.”

“I really don’t deserve you,” Jiang Cheng whispers but before Nie Mingjue can argue with him over that he goes on. “I know what you’re going to say, but you can stuff it,” he says and Nie Mingjue laughs.

“Alright, I won’t say it. Just—you say whatever it is you have to say.”

Nie Mingjue feels put at ease already, because if Jiang Cheng would be breaking up with him, he certainly wouldn’t hold him like that, so that worry is almost immediately put to rest.

“I love you,” is what Jiang Cheng starts with and that alone is almost enough to make Nie Mingjue turn around and kiss the living hell right out of Jiang Cheng.

“I love you, too.”

“No, shhhh,” Jiang Cheng immediately complaints, though Nie Mingjue can hear the smile in his voice. “You’re not allowed to interrupt me.”

“Okay, no more interruptions from now on,” Nie Mingjue promises as he laces their fingers together, squeezing Jiang Cheng’s hand for emphasis.

“Good. Now, listen. I’m just—I love you so much and I still don’t know how I got this lucky, but being with you feels right,” Jiang Cheng starts, and he sounds unsure, still, as if he’s looking for the right words.

“I know I’m brash and angry and hard, because that’s what everyone keeps telling me, but when I’m with you, I never feel like this grumpy asshole. I feel like—me. The real me, the one no one wants to see. The one who laughs himself sick at puppy videos and who cries over stupid romance movies and who snaps for the sake of snapping and not because I’m actually angry. It feels like we’re on one wavelength, because I know you do some things no one knows about you as well when you’re around me and I will forever be grateful that we simply can be like this around each other. That you don’t hold it against me when I have a bad day, or when work left me drained or when I want to put too much sugar into my coffee.”

Well, Nie Mingjue is not going to argue any of those points, because while he doesn’t cry about stupid romance movies, he damn well cries when Jiang Cheng tells him things like this.

And it’s about as much as Nie Mingjue can take as well, because he spins around in Jiang Cheng’s arms, not caring what he promised before, because he needs to look at him right now.

Marry me, he wants to say, because that is the only possible answer to a speech like this, but before the words can leave his mouth, Jiang Cheng slaps a hand over it.

“No,” he scolds him. “You said you wouldn’t turn around and you damn well don’t get to speak before I say so, understood?” he snaps and Nie Mingjue nods obediently, though he’s pretty sure Jiang Cheng can tell what he wants to ask.

“You’re it for me, Mingjue, because I never felt at ease or at home like this with anyone else, and there’s no way you’re getting out of this, do you understand me? I’m not letting you go ever again,” Jiang Cheng says and uses his free hand to pull a ring out of his pocket.

“This wasn’t how I wanted to propose, and I didn’t have my speech ready, but it is what it is, I suppose. And I’m also not going to ask you, because you don’t get a say in this. You’re stuck with me, and it’s your own fault, because you didn’t let me push you away in the beginning and now I’m going to stick like glue to you for the rest of your lives.”

Nie Mingjue can’t help it, the tears just flow faster, and even though Jiang Cheng didn’t ask him, he still has to say yes. He taps Jiang Cheng’s hand, urging him to take it away, and after one glare Jiang Cheng does.

“You’re an idiot if you think I’m ever letting you go again,” is what Nie Mingjue says the moment Jiang Cheng’s hand leaves his mouth and then he pulls him into a kiss.

It’s way better to agree to an engagement like this than simply saying yes anyway.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[anabsolutetrainwreck]

for your eyes only || h. styles

warnings: swearing, references to drugs

word count: 2.5k

summary: harry is feeling the pressure of making his new album...

You were already in bed by the time Harry got home. Though still awake, your eyes were heavy and your body ached for rest. But you’d never been able to sleep without knowing Harry was safe at home. 

The slamming of the front door echoed through your house. You listened silently as he hung up his coat and kicked off his shoes. You heard him wander into the kitchen, turn on the tap and pour himself a glass of water. After a couple of minutes, he ventured upstairs, heading straight into the bathroom. He began brushing his teeth. 

All the while, you stared out the window of your bedroom. It looked out onto the London streets, dimly lit by the street lights. The bedroom was dark, only illuminated slightly by the outside sky and all of its stars and the moon. 

Harry had been at the studio all day. He’d been stressing about writing his new album. He had started coming home late and leaving early. You barely saw him anymore. You always left him some leftovers in the fridge for him to eat when he got in or take for his lunch. Every time you tried to ask him if he was okay or if he needed to take a break, he’d just shrug you off and tell you he was fine. 

You’d seen a similar thing when he was making his first album, but it was never as bad as this. You’d seen it when he was trying to finish Watermelon Sugar, but it was never as bad as this. 

You felt the bed sink beside you, which consequently woke your cat, who was sleeping at the bottom of your bed. His name was Podge. Rolling over to face Harry, you smiled softly at him. You wanted to be angry at him for never telling you where he was anymore or prioritising his album over your relationship, but you just couldn’t be. You always knew where he was. He went to the studio all day and then would go back to Sarah and Mitch’s for a bit during the evening. “How are you?” he whispered, wrapping his arm around your body.

“Tired,” you replied, squeezing him tightly.

He pressed his lips lazily to the top of your head. You smiled at the feeling of his touch. “Go to sleep then,” he mumbled. 

“But I haven’t seen you today. And I won’t see you tomorrow,” you sighed. “I just miss you. And I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, love. You know I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”

You sat up, turning back to him. He frowned, propping himself up against the headboard. “That’s the thing. I don’t think you would tell me.”

“What? Where did you get that idea?” 

“Well, you never told me when you were making your first album. You never told me when you were trying to finish Watermelon Sugar. You don’t have a great track record of being transparent when it comes to telling me when you’re not okay,” you explained. “Instead, all you do is come home and go to sleep. Then you wake up before me to get to the studio early. And even when you finish at the studio, you go back to Sarah and Mitch’s. She’s fucking pregnant, Harry, give them some time alone.”

He sat there and took it like a small child being scolded by his mother. He played with his fingers as you tried not to shout. You both knew it would only be a matter of time before you broke and all your feelings would come pouring out. 

The sound of Podge whining at the bottom of the bed interrupted your heated rant. He plodded his way up to the two of you, settling in between you both. He often did that. He’d clamber up to the top of the bed to sleep between your bodies when everyone was comfortable.

Harry reached down to run his hand along Podge’s soft back. You sighed, throwing the covers off your legs. “I’m going to get a drink,” you told him as you left him alone in the bedroom. 

He watched you leave. He didn’t call out or beg for your forgiveness. That was never how arguments were handled in your relationship. He sighed, getting comfortable in bed again, waiting for your return. The sound of Podge purring was enough to calm his nerves as he listened to you pour yourself a glass of water in the kitchen. He listened carefully as you walked around a bit, before he heard the back door open and close. 

You often went outside to take a moment to collect your thoughts whenever you and Harry got into an argument. Harry knew this. 

You set your glass down as you sat down on the bench against the wall. The fabric was cold against your thighs. You looked up at the bedroom window, wondering whether Harry was contemplating everything you’d said or if he was comfortably falling asleep. 

Harry waited for you to return. You never did. You’d gone to sleep in the spare bedroom. The two of you were too tired to take it too further tonight. So, you both slept, knowing tomorrow would either be full of shouting and tears of frustration or pettiness. 

However, when Harry woke in the morning, he climbed out of bed to apologise to you. Podge followed after him, his claws loud on the floor. But you were gone. The bed in the spare bedroom was made. He slowly made his way down to the kitchen, his nerves getting the better of him. Had you really left? 

There was a note on the kitchen counter by the bowl of fruit. ‘GONE OUT FOR BREAKFAST WITH GEM’. Harry looked over at the clock on the wall. It was thirteen minutes past nine. But he didn’t know when you’d written the note. He quietly poured himself a glass of orange juice and buttered some toast. He went out into the back garden, sitting down in the very spot you’d sat in a few hours earlier. 

The weather was nice. The sky was blue and there was a moderate breeze in the air. His phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up to reveal the picture of you he had set as his lock screen. Your slightly pixelated smile was electric through the screen as you cradled Podge in your arms when he was just a kitten. 

The notification was from Mitch. He couldn’t make it to the studio. Harry replied quickly, telling him it wasn’t a problem. It was Saturday anyway. Granted, Harry could probably do with a day off. But, even when he lay in bed all day doing absolutely nothing, he was still working.

That was the trouble with making an album: it plays on your mind until it’s finally out in the hands of the public. More so, Harry noticed, with his solo albums. And that was why Harry seemed to spend every waking moment in the studio. He figured that he might as well be in an environment where he can turn his epiphanies into harmonies.

He heard the front door open and close. You were home. Harry finished the remnants of his orange juice. Podge appeared in the doorway, rubbing his head along on the edge of the threshold. Shortly after, you followed. You were standing in the doorway, shuffling awkwardly. “Not going to the studio today?” you asked, sitting down opposite him. 

He shrugged, “Might do. It’s still early yet.”

You nodded. There was no pettiness. There was no shouting. There was just silence with intervals of small talk. Harry watched you as you fiddled with your fingers, your knee bouncing. You were nervous, he could tell. “How was Gemma?” he asked. 

“She was great,” you replied. “Asked how you were.”

“Yeah? What did you tell her?”

“I said you were fine,” you shrugged. “Just busy with the album.”

He nodded slowly, “Right.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, sitting up straight. You felt Podge run his body along your leg beneath the table. “What? Was I wrong to say that?” you asked, worrying that you’d done something wrong. 

He shook his head quickly, “No, no.”

Harry didn’t say anything more. He was closed off. There was something he wasn’t telling you. You’d been with Harry long enough to know this. Usually, he was quite open with you. He told you what felt like everything. But this never applied to his music. His job. You and his job were two separate things. He made that explicitly clear from the very beginning. You were never to get mixed up with his music and his music was never to get mixed up with you. The line between the two was never blurred. 

But this meant he hardly ever told you when he was struggling or when he felt like he needed a break from it all. You only ever heard songs when they were finished. You only ever saw music videos when they were complete. You had only ever been to one awards show with him - the 2020 Brits. You had never even seen the inside of the studio. You had only met his band on a handful of occasions, all of which had been on nights out or for celebratory dinners, never when they were rehearsing. 

It was like he was leading two lives. 

“You are okay, aren’t you?”

He nodded, “Sure. Just a bit stressed.”

You sighed, exasperated, “You always say that! Every time I ask if you’re doing alright, you just shrug and tell me you’re ‘a bit stressed’. Harry, ‘a bit stressed’ isn’t spending every day at the studio. It isn’t spending all night at the piano, trying to get a song just right. It isn’t constantly comparing yourself to other artists, trying to work out what worked for them and what didn’t. It isn’t getting high every time you fuck something up. It isn’t acting like you have no life outside of the music you make.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a life outside of the music I make. Don’t you get it? I’ve dreamed of this my entire life. I reached the top with the band. And once you’ve had a taste of what it’s like to own the fucking world, everything you do becomes about trying to get there again. It’s like a fucking drug. When it’s been in your system once, it lives there forever and you can’t stop thinking about it. You crave it,” he snapped. You winced as you watched him become so worked up, tears of frustration falling down his cheeks. He dragged his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands harshly. 

It took you a moment to absorb everything Harry had said. Last night, it had only been a matter of time before you’d broken. Today, it had only been a matter of time since Harry broke. You were sick of it. Harry was sick of it. You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly as his words registered, “I don’t know if you need to hear this from me. I don’t know if anyone has ever actually said this to you. But you’ll never be as big as the band.”

Harry looked up, his eyebrows knitted together. He looked offended. As anyone would be, you supposed. “What?” he squeaked out. 

“I know it’s brutal. And I’m sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but you’re never going to be as big as the band. And it’s shit, Harry, I know. But you’re a fifth of that band. Some fans left with Liam, and some left with Zayn, and some left with Louis, and some left with Niall. And some left with you. And some left with all five of you. But the point is you’re missing four of the components you had when you owned the world. That band was fucking massive, Harry.”

He didn’t say anything for a while. You didn’t expect him to. You’d said all you felt you needed to say to him. And, while you knew you’d never be able to relate to exactly how Harry was feeling, you’d seen the devastating consequences stardom has on a person. You pressed on, “You owned the fucking world, Harry. But you owned it with four other guys. And I don’t think you could do it on your own.”

He sighed, nodding, “It’s just hard.”

“I know, baby. But it won’t get easier if you just don’t stop. You need to step back from this toxic mindset you’ve got yourself into. You literally just won a Grammy, give yourself a break,” you said. 

“That’s the point. I won a Grammy for Watermelon Sugar. What if I can’t make that again?” he sighed.

“Harry, you’ll never be able to make it again. Surely that’s the beauty of it all, right? Nobody wants to hear you put out another Watermelon Sugar. I can guarantee your fans would be happy to listen to what you want to make,” you said. 

It felt so foreign to be talking to Harry about these kinds of things. You’d reassured him and given him advice on all sorts, but never about the music industry. That was his area of expertise. But spending time with Gemma always put you in some sort of healthy frame of mind.

You reached across the table to squeeze his hand. There was no way you could still be angry at Harry for spending so much time away from the house. He wiped away the stray tears that clung to his cheeks. He reached down to cuddle Podge, who’d jumped up onto the bench at some point or another. “Thanks,” he said quietly, finally looking you in the eyes. “I’m sorry for getting so worked up over this. It’s so pathetic.”

“Don’t apologise, H. I love you and I’m always gonna be here for you. Please don’t be embarrassed about these things. I’ll never judge you for being emotional,” you smiled softly. 

“You’re too good for me,” he said, grinning across at you. 

You leaned back in your chair, shrugging, “Probably. I do think of this relationship as more of charity work.”

He laughed, “You’re so selfless!”

“I know! What can I say, some heroes don’t wear capes,” you smirked. 

It was moments like these, with the sun beaming down at the two of you, that you’d missed. Harry was smiling again. It felt like something you hadn’t seen for weeks. 

The truth was, Harry had always found it easier to express his feelings through the art of music. And, while this posed many benefits for him, it meant that, when he was trapped with writer’s block, he found it difficult to free himself of the burdening stresses of his industry. 

You got to your feet, extending your hand to Harry, “Come on, you’ve not had a shower for days. You stink.”

[ptergwen]

ok how about a blurb where tom takes his best friend the reader to set and while on breaks they always hang out together, one time one of his castmates comes to the reader with tom trying to pull them away because his castmate is about to spill to the reader about his crush on her??

the thing

w/c: 1.1k

a/n: pretend the world is normal and it’s the summer cuz that’s when they usually shoot spidey 😭

-

you’ve been staying with tom at his atlanta house while he films the third installment of spider-man. classes are out for the summer, and home is boring when he’s not there. tom’s solution was that you travel across the world for a change of scenery. he always jumps at the opportunity to bring along any of his people.

his go to is usually harry, but only because the others are busy. that would include you. tom could never ask you to drop out of university to watch him film something. with spider-man filming starting in the early summer, you’re able to be here for most of it and not miss out on your own life.

you made a few visits to the far from home set in london, and tom has invited you to hang out with the cast before. like tom, you became the closet with zendaya and jacob. they’re just as psyched you’ll be around for a while as he is.

some days, you stay back and chill until tom gets off. he’ll burst through the door out of breath and raving about how there’s an easter egg in this scene or guess who comes back? then, you remind him about all the nda’s he signed so he’ll shut up. it’s also so he doesn’t spoil too much for you.

he says you’re his better half and collapses next to you on the couch for cuddles. he’s sweaty nearly every time, yet you find yourself biting back grins as he lays all over you.

on tom’s free days, you do whatever you want together. you might binge your shared tv shows and order food. he might take you out to a few places he knows, show you around a bit. zendaya and jacob might meet up with you two for dinner, a movie, anything fun that doesn’t require much effort.

tom thought the summer he filmed far from home was the best of his life. this one is so much better. it’s all because you’re here. he gets to come home to you each night, unwind with the person who’s mastered helping him do so. tom plans on telling you that and another thing soon.

there are days tom brings you to set, too. you’ll get to watch him work, which makes him want to do even better. the hugs and compliments you shower him in after boost his confidence insanely high. you also spend a good amount of time in his trailer. together, of course. it makes all the waiting around a lot more bearable for tom.

zendaya is currently hanging with you and tom in his trailer. they just finished shooting a scene. she’s posting one of her signature face zoom instagram stories while you take a long sip of water. tom is in the bathroom after drinking too much water and being stuck in his suit all day.

“everybody keeps asking for an mj selfie,” zendaya sighs lightheartedly, rewatching her short video. “this is what they get. i don’t care.” you snicker at her and cap your bottle of water. she presses post without another thought. “they’re making you guys be so... secretive this time,” you observe with a curious smile.

“‘cuz there are so many rumors and shit everywhere.” z looks up when the sink in tom’s bathroom turns on. “some of us read our contracts.” she glances over in his direction, lips pressed together. you’re trying not to laugh at how tom does the exact opposite as her. “he’s almost told me the entire plot, like, maybe twenty times.”

moving to sit cross cross in her chair, zendaya lets out a breath. “mhm. i wouldn’t expect anything less.” you nod to say that’s fair and uncap your water again. she lets you take a drink before posing her next question. there’s a more serious tone to her voice this time. “did tom talk to you about that thing yet?”

you gulp down the rest of your water, eyebrows knitted together. “no. there’s a thing?”

zendaya doesn’t spill secrets ever, especially not those her close friend’s confide in her about. tom went to her when he realized he has feelings for you. he needed to tell someone that wasn’t you, and she’s good at this stuff. he’d decided he would confess to you before you have to leave. you’re going in a couple of weeks.

she doesn’t want tom to run out of time, so she’ll help him out. he won’t mind too much, will he?

you both fall silent as tom comes out of the bathroom. z gives him a smile that he feels like he should be in on, but has no clue what it’s for. you’re looking him over with the thought that he has something to tell you running through your mind.

“what are we talking about?” tom looks between you two, slowly shutting the door behind him. he naturally takes the spot next to you on his bed. “you, actually,” zendaya chirps and gestures to you. “don’t you have some, uh, news for y/n?” he squints at her, wracking his brain. on high alert, you sit up straighter.

“the thing,” z vaguely hints at it, widening her eyes at him. tom tilts his head to the side. “the thing... what thing?” surely, it can’t be that thing. she wouldn’t bring it up without asking him first. you laugh out an awkward “um.” he turns to towards you, voice getting lower.

“genuinely, i have no idea what she’s on about.” you’re not fully convinced, your eyes landing on a frustrated zendaya. “man,” she huffs, dropping her hand to her side. tom stares at her dumbly. his body is still facing yours. “alright, i’ll say it. tom told me the other day that he-“ it finally hits him. the thing is his crush on you.

“ahem,” tom loudly clears his throat, which gets z to stop talking. she’s not impressed. “hm. we’ll have that conversation another time,” he says sharply and looks over at you. you’re already looking at him, worry crossing your features. he’s never kept a secret from you. this must be pretty big.

groaning, zendaya plants her feet on the ground. “there is no other time! let me finish.” she holds out a hand to get your attention. “y/n, tom likes-“ this time, he shoots up from the bed and over to zendaya. he takes her by the arm, gritting his teeth as he leads her to the door.

“nah, what the hell?” she demands while tom brings her down the stairs. you watch on in utter confusion. this is strange behavior even for tom. “jon needs you, um, on set,” he fake explains and opens up the door. “huh? he said i’m done for today.” zendaya makes a move for the stairs, so tom shuts the door in her face.

“rewrites!” tom calls through the closed door, hearing her grumble something he can’t make out. you’re waiting at the top of the stairs when tom turns around. he winces and offers a smile, a pained one. you tap your fingers against the wall.

“let’s have that conversation.”

[maddieinwonder]

Bait & Switch

Spencer Reid x GN!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, super fluffy 

Word Count: 3.5k words 

Plot: Reader reveals that they’re going to buy a Nintendo Switch so Spencer invites them to go together with him. In the process, some feelings reveal themselves.  

Author’s Note: My first time writing about Spencer, and actually, my first time writing a fic in a long time haha. Just imagine that this takes place in 2017, although you don’t have to know anything about the Switch in order to read this.

Masterlist

-------------- 

"What's got you in such a good mood, baby?" Derek asked, leaning over his chair. Even without looking up, you could feel the smirk that decorated his face. After almost a month at the BAU, you didn’t need to be a profiler to expect this much from Derek. "Got a date this weekend?"

You tried to focus on your paperwork before relenting, rolling your eyes. Still, you couldn't hide the smile in your voice when you shot back a reply. "With this job? You wish, Morgan."

"Give yourself some credit, beautiful. With your looks I'm sure you could score a good looking fellow for a night you won't forget."

"I'm sure you would know all about that," you replied, this time grinning from ear to ear.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your seat has always been across Derek Morgan. The guy was a terrible flirt but also one of the most trustworthy people you knew, so you couldn't keep up a sarcastic mood for long.

"Actually," you replied genuinely, "I'll be lining up this weekend to buy a Nintendo Switch." Out of the corner of your eye, you could sense Spencer stiffen in his chair next to you.

"A what switch?" Derek asked, his face scrunching up in confusion.

But before you could begin to reply him, Spencer rolled his chair over and opened his mouth. The both of you knew what was coming.

"The Nintendo Switch. A video game console developed by Japanese company Nintendo that's completely one-of-its-kind, on account of its console functioning like a tablet that can either be docked on a home console and linked to a TV, or used as a portable device with two wireless controllers so you can..."

Not being able to help yourself, you giggled at his info dump. You've always admired how much knowledge he could store in his big brain. But more importantly, you thought he was kind of cute like this. A fire would light in his eyes and it seemed like the world around him ceased to exist.

You only realised you were staring at Spencer when the last bits of his question registered in your mind. "...you going to?"

Blinking your eyes, you snapped to attention. Derek seemed to notice, because you felt his signature smirk return to his face.

"Which store are you going to?" Spencer repeated the question. Anybody else might be annoyed, but he only seemed mildly restless. A rare look for the unathletic genius.

"I'm going to the one three blocks down from here," you replied.

"So am I!" Spencer sat upright in his chair, beaming. You think that this is the most excitement he's expressed to you since you joined the BAU.

Then his confidence seemed to waver. He began tugging at the edge of his sleeve, eyes glancing to the side at nothing in particular when he asked, "W-would you like t-to go together?"

A smile spreads across your face before you can stop it. "Sure! Sounds like fun."

Spencer grinned back, and there was a moment of silence before Derek interrupted the conversation that he began. "Well, I'll leave you and lover boy to plan your date. I'm going to spend my Friday night at the bar."

Your heart thumped involuntarily at the word "date", while Derek turned to Emily. "Hey Prentiss, you want to grab a few drinks and dinner? I'm sure I can get the others to leave work for one night."

"Anything's better than this," Emily shrugged, lifting her mug of already-cold coffee.

Standing up to retrieve her bag, she smirked at you and Spencer, having heard more of the conversation than she let on. "Have a great weekend, you lovebirds. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

She and Derek shared a laugh as they moved towards the Batcave to retrieve Garcia next.

As you watched them go, you feel Spencer's eyes on you and a flush warming your cheeks. You knew they were just teasing you with the word "date", but the truth is you've liked the genius almost as soon as you met him.

You may not have an eidetic memory, but you could still remember the flutter of butterflies that exploded in your chest when you first laid eyes on Dr. Spencer Reid.

He had waved from a comfortable distance, the other hand tucked in the pocket of his dark slacks. He towered over you easily with curly locks that barely touched his sweater vest, and you swore you've never seen anybody more attractive in your life. His intelligence only added to your attraction. 

"Shall I pick you up at 7am tomorrow?"

You turned back to Spencer, who seemed even more nervous now that everybody in the bullpen had left. Yet what he was proposing was rather bold compared to his usual behaviour.

“Pick me up?” You repeated.

“It’ll be easier to find a parking spot that way, and the weather report predicts that tomorrow will be a sunny day, so I know you’d rather not walk three blocks to the store.” He rambled nervously.

“You know me well, Spencer.” A cheeky smile snuck onto your face, and in a moment of false bravado, you said what was on your mind. “7am. It’s a date, then.”

Spencer’s face turned beet red.

You didn’t wait to dwell on his reaction, dumping the last of your paperwork into a pile and picking up your bag. But as you walked to the elevator, you couldn’t help yourself from grinning ear to ear. It was a date. Kind of.

-------------- 

You couldn’t sleep. You had gotten home earlier than usual, but the extra time to plan for your “date” tomorrow proved to be a bad idea.

What would you wear? What would you talk about? Should you extend it to a meal, or dessert, or maybe coffee?

Although you were confident in the moment, you were beginning to regret teasing Spencer before you left. You’d known him long enough to know how he reacted to embarrassment, and there’s a good chance he might back away because of your forwardness. 

You groaned, trying to get these thoughts out of your head. The reality of the "date" was sinking in now. This would be the first time that you and Spencer would be alone in a non-work setting. To say that you were nervous was a gross understatement. 

But there was something worse than showing up nervous, which was showing up nervous and sleep-deprived, so you turned off your bedside lamp and tried to will yourself to sleep. That's when your phone began to buzz.

You were so on edge that the sound almost made you fall off your bed. Turning over your phone, your heart leapt to your throat.

Spencer, 2:03am: Sorry to disturb you when it's so late, but I realised I don’t have your address. Could you send it to me when you're awake?

You gulped. Just relax, just relax, you repeated in your head.

Me, 2:05am: It’s alright, you didn’t wake me up. I’ll attach my address below.

Spencer, 2:06am: Thanks. Having trouble sleeping?

Me, 2:07am: A little

Spencer, 2:08am: Me too.

What was I supposed to reply to that? You silently screamed. But it turned out you didn't have to figure it out.

Spencer, 2:11am: To be honest, I'm a little nervous about tomorrow.

Me, 2:13am: Why?

Spencer, 2:15am: I suppose it’s because we've never spent any time alone before.

Hearing the genius act so shy made you feel a little more brave.

Me, 2:16am: Well, I'm looking forward to the chance

Spencer, 2:17am: I am too.

Despite your nerves, you smiled at his small confession.

Spencer, 2:19am: We should get some sleep.

Me, 2:19am: I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Spence

Spencer, 2:20am: Sweet dreams.

Your anxieties were washed away and replaced with the biggest smile on your face. Without knowing it, Spencer’s words rippled a sense of calm over you, and you fell asleep shortly after. 

The next morning, you woke up with a newfound clarity. You knew what you were going to wear. 

-------------- 

Spencer couldn't stop tapping the edge of his steering wheel. He knew he was nervous, and admitting it to you last night didn't do much to stop that fact from eating away at him.

He texted you 3 minutes ago that he was waiting outside your apartment, but you hadn't replied. Although he knew that there were plenty of logical reasons why you might have missed his text, his hands didn't stop itching to call you and see if you were alright.

Then out of the corner of his eye, you emerged from the corridor and he felt his heart speed up.

You were wearing a blue flannel that he'd never seen you in before with a pair of dark jeans. Your hair, which you usually kept in a up-do at work, was let down in waves, touching your shoulders. And then there was the pièce de résistance, you were wearing a Doctor Who t-shirt with the TARDIS on it.

Hook, line, and sinker.

He didn't break his gaze on you the entire time you got into his car. Even when you beamed at him and wished him a good morning, a small yawn escaping your perfect lips, he was completely tongue-tied.

"Earth to Spencer," you called out, looking up at him curiously. "You there?"

Spencer shook his head suddenly, cursing himself internally for being such a doofus. "Sorry, uh, I was distracted. Good morning." He smiled sheepishly, tucking a stray hair strand behind his ear.

"Anyway," he cleared his throat. "I was thinking we could grab some coffee before we headed to the store? We can make it quick. I know there'll be some people already lining up."

He peeked at you rubbing your eyes and thought it was the cutest thing he's ever seen. “Looks like you might need it," he said without realising he'd just flirted with you.

You giggled, lowering your hands from your face. "Sounds great." 

-------------- 

Spencer wasn't lying when he said it'd be quick, although in truth you could have taken all the time in the world and you would still be happy. The initial awkwardness between you washed away almost immediately as you fell into a quiet conversation about your favourite Doctor Who episodes. 

You wanted to commit the sight of him driving in the morning to memory. The sun had just rose, lighting a gentle halo around Spencer’s messy hair and sculptured face. He was wearing a bigger sweater than usual, the sleeves hanging around his wrists loosely. While his eyes were focused on the road, his lips parted slightly as he softly bantered with you about David Tennant. 

You felt an overwhelming urge to reach out and kiss him despite the driving hazard. And despite the fact that you’ve never kissed him, of course. But you could hope. And hope you did. 

Your hope had grown when he parked in front of the coffee house you’d once mentioned was your favourite. Spencer made your coffee order perfectly and you had found yourself hoping that it was because he’d paid extra attention to you, and not because of his brilliant memory. 

And when you reached the video game store and he opened the door for you, you hoped it was because he wanted to make a good impression, not only because he was a gentleman. 

And when he stood between you and a video game rack in line, you hoped that he was trying to shield you from the other people in the store, and you hoped that he was thinking of pressing you against the rack and kissing the daylights out of you. 

You needed to get a hold of yourself. 

The conversation had swapped to the reason why you two were here in the first place, and you found yourself talking to Spencer about Breath of the Wild, a game that brought you back to fond memories of your childhood. 

“The Legend of Zelda was the first video game I ever played, on the first console I ever owned.” You shared, smiling fondly. “It was the video game that my brother and I bonded over, and we bought every game together since.”

Spencer nodded in rapt. You felt him leaning closer to you, although it may have been your imagination. 

“This is actually the first time I haven’t been with him for a new game,” you realised. “Due to our jobs, we haven’t seen each other in awhile, but we still text each other!” You tried to end on a lighter note, not wanting to bring the mood down on this “date”.

Spencer looked at you as if he wanted to say something, but he kept his lips shut. 

“What about you? What was your first video game?” You threw the question to him, trying to divert attention away from your sad-enough story. 

He blushed in response to your question and looked down at his black converse. You noticed he began touching his sleeve in a familiar motion and you looked at him suspiciously. “Spencer?”

“W-well, the t-truth is, I didn’t actually c-come here to buy a Switch, and I don’t play video games at all.“ The last part of his sentence came out rapidly. You might have missed it, if you weren’t already used to the tongue twisters he spit out on a daily basis.

“What?” You exclaimed a little too loudly, causing the other shoppers in line to glance at you weirdly. “Then... Then what are you doing here?” You said quieter this time. Your eyebrows furrowed as your mind scanned the possibilities. 

“W-well, I, uh, wanted to spend time with you,” he blurted out. He raised his eyes to meet yours, his face completely red.

It was your turn to be flustered now. Your voice was quiet and you could feel your hands shaking. “Is this a date, Spencer?” 

“Only if you want it to be, I mean, I want it to be but your opinion matters to me, and I wouldn’t want to bring you on a date if you didn’t want to. We can just hang out like friends if that’s more comfortable--” 

You grabbed his free hand, gently lowering it from where it was moving as he rambled, until your fingers were intertwined. 

“I would like it to be,” a large smile took over your face. You were a little teary despite how weird it was to confess your feelings for him in a video game store of all places. 

Spencer was quiet for a moment, squeezing your hand in return. “Would you like to go for lunch after this? As a date,” he clarified this time. 

"I would love that,” you beamed at him, “as a date.” 

-------------- 

Spencer had always imagined the kind of girl he would fall in love with. Caring, intelligent, had an appreciation for classic literature, maybe. But when he saw you for the first time, every expectation he held flew out of the window.  

You were beautiful. Wavy dark hair tied into a high ponytail, wearing a navy shirt, and funnily enough, a beige cardigan and black converse. Morgan joked that it was like meeting Spencer 2.0, but he disagreed: the two of you were worlds apart. 

You were incredibly tech savvy, although not as much as Garcia, but certainly more than the rest. You loved the smell and taste of coffee without sugar. You were happy to hug everybody you met, from colleagues to victims. You didn’t like paperback so you read everything on a Kindle. 

But the biggest difference between the two of you, was that you were emotionally intelligent. 

All of your brilliance, combined with your PhD in psychology - having worked as a psychiatrist affiliated with Sex Crimes before joining the BAU - you were able to pick out the team’s moods from a single glance. It’s what endeared everyone to you immediately, and what made you such a great profiler.   

But the way you treated him was different. You just, listened to him. While everyone else had gotten into the habit of cutting him off or simply ignoring him when he opened his mouth, your eyes would light up instead. 

He could always tell you were listening because you would look into his eyes when he spoke, and you would ask him questions after he was done. 

It made him feel like the world around him ceased to exist, except for you. 

So he started studying your interests to grab your attention, trying to throw in a few jokes hoping to see you smile. It only took one month for him to seize his chance. Still, never in his calculations did he think you would say yes. 

He smiled at the thought, stroking your hair gently as you cuddled on the couch together, watching you play Breath of the Wild. 

After a more than successful first date, you had asked him to come over the next day to spend more time together. A month ago, he would have politely declined with an excuse like needing to read a new academic journal, but when he arrived at your doorstep he allowed himself to be drawn into your arms, relishing the giggle he earned as a reward for being hugged. 

“Damn it,” you grumbled quietly as you ran out of stamina scaling a cliffside for the fifth time.

Spencer laughed. Without a second thought, he pulled you closer and kissed the top of your head. 

In the background Link fell off the cliff once again, the game playing a sound that he came to recognise as Link dying. But there were no curses this time, as you had turned to look at Spencer, nothing but adoration in your eyes. 

“That was our first kiss,” you said so quietly and sweetly that Spencer’s heart melted at the sound of it. 

“First?” He took his chance, leaning closer. “You know, the usage of the word ‘first’ almost always implies that there will be a ‘second’ and a ‘third’ and a...” 

His voice trailed off as your fingers left the controller to touch his lips. Your touch was intoxicating and he wanted more. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Spence,” you started, lifting your finger from his lips. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you-” 

“Don’t be sorry,” he managed to get out in a hurry before capturing your lips in his. He felt your astonishment at first, but you quickly lost yourself in the kiss as he brought his hands up to cup the sides of your face, deepening the kiss further. 

You finally broke apart after awhile, both panting for air and smiling widely. Spencer never thought he could be so lucky. “That’s the second one,” he said quietly, bringing up two fingers to indicate the number. 

You looked at him with love in your eyes and abandoned your controller on the table before throwing yourself at him, flattening the two of you against your couch. 

“Ready for the third?”

-------------- 

Derek Morgan wasn’t an idiot. That’s why he could tell that something had changed over the weekend between his desk mate and boy genius. 

The two came into work together on Monday morning, which was weird in itself, but they also took every opportunity to stick to each other, from coffee breaks to disappearing for lunch and “asking” about paperwork. 

When they vanished for the umpteenth time that day for coffee, Derek leaned over Emily’s desk to confirm his theory. 

“It’s not just me. Pretty boy finally made a move, didn’t he?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Definitely. Those two are so obvious that even Hotch has picked up on it. From his office.” She quipped, grinning as her eyes moved to the scene behind Derek. “Speak of the devil.” 

Entering the conversation, Spencer did what he did best. “Did you know that ‘speak of the devil’ is the short form of the idiom ‘speak of the devil and he doth appear’? The phrase can be traced back to the 16th century when mentioning the devil was considered prohibited. In fact, when people were caught saying the phrase--” 

Derek caught your eyes drifting to look adoringly at Spencer. He couldn’t take this anymore. “So what happened between you two last weekend, huh?” he interrupted, smirking. 

Your reaction was better than he gambled. You turned a bright red and your eyes darted between Spencer and Derek in panic, truly flustered for the first time since he’s met you. But Spencer was strangely calm, his eyes travelling from his best friend to Emily in the background trying to stifle her laughter, while a small smile tugged at his lips. 

“We’re dating now,” he announced to the two a little triumphantly, while rubbing your shoulder as a peaceful gesture. 

Derek and Emily were stunned by their friend’s directness, only to be shocked out of it as Hotch walked by. “Finally,” he muttered, loud enough for them all to hear. 

You were the first to crack a smile, then the rest followed suit with laughs and congratulations. Hearing the uproar, Garcia and JJ peeked out of their rooms, joining in and demanding more details about this new but not entirely unexpected development. 

Amidst the chaos, Spencer laces his hands in yours and gives it a squeeze. For the first time in a long time, you feel unequivocally, unmistakably happy. 

[myhockeyworld87]

Milestone Maker - Sidney Crosby

Word Count: 1,992

POV: Reader

Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Language

Notes: So you guys made me realize I could not let this milestone of my OG hockey hubby go by without writing a little something. I hope you all enjoy this. Happy Reading to all of you! Congratulation Sidney on 1000th games! Can’t wait to watch him in the next 1000. 

“Good morning, my love,” you greeted your husband, setting the breakfast tray down at the foot of the bed so that you could kiss him properly. “Happy one-thousandth game day.” Sid smiled sweetly at you, before drawing you back down for another kiss. You’d been married for almost nineteen months now and you still couldn’t get enough of each other.

Your foot bumped the tray, as the kiss turned heated, reminding you that you’d brought him breakfast on his special day. “What’s this?” He asked after hearing the clink of the silverware.

“I made you all your favorites.”

“You’re telling me there are waffles in there?”

“Of course, with strawberries, just the way you like them.” You set the tray on his lap, removing the cover that you’d placed on it so keep everything warm.

“You know the other way I like this?” He scooped up a dollop of whipped cream and smeared it on your lips before licking it away.

“Eat this first,” you ordered, lifting up a forkful of eggs to feed him. “Then we’ll move on to other things.” He took the proffered bite, seductively closing his lips around the utensil and you were suddenly second-guessing your decision to bring him breakfast in bed. “You know I’m supposed to be the one inciting you like that.”

“Babe, you literally walk in the room and I want you. So consider this a taste of your own medicine.” Sid decided to grab a piece of turkey bacon next, moaning dramatically as he ate. It was all over after that. You grabbed the tray and set it on the bench at the foot of the bed. “Hey,” Sid whined. “That’s my breakfast.”

“Mmmhmm, I’m aware.” You crawled back up the length of the bed so that you were situated beside the length of him

“Then you’re aware it’s getting cold.” That damn smirk was on his face, the one that never failed to turn your insides to goo.

“I’ll remake everything, but this can’t wait.” You shimmied the comforter and sheets that were pooled around his waist down, exposing his body to you. Hands raking down his chest, you felt his sharp intake of breath before you heard it. Sid took the satin ties of your robe and toyed with them between his fingers, itching to touch your body, but this was about him today. You swatted him away before bending down to kiss the little trail of hair that led to the place you knew would drive him wild.

Taking his cock, you let your tongue sneak out and lick the head, tasting his dewy precum. It was your turn to moan, and you felt Sid harden even further with just that small simple touch. When you wrapped your lips around his shaft, Sid’s head fell back against the bed, lost in the power of your mouth. His hand instinctively threaded through your hair, pulling it back so he could enjoy the view. You worked him in and out of your mouth; your hand pumping what couldn’t fit in. “You’re so fucking good to me, (Y/N).” Swirling your tongue around the head, Sid groaned out his pleasure. You had a knack of driving him to the brink in no time and today was no different.

You popped him out of your mouth, then trailed your tongue down to his balls, sucking and licking him the way you knew he liked. His shaft, you worked with your right hand, jerking it up and down in a motion that drove him mad. It was torturous, but torture that he loved and you loved taking him there. His hips bucked up in your hand and you knew he was close, so you took him back into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks so you could suck him off.

“Fuck baby.” The words were no sooner out of his mouth than he was pushing you off of him and rolling you onto your back. Somehow the ties of your robe had come undone, and Sid pushed it open the rest of the way to reveal your naked form. “God, you’re beautiful.” His fingers slipped between your folds, to make sure that you were wet for him. There was no need for you’d been dripping since the moment he took that bite of egg, but Sid, being the gentlemen that he was, always needed to make sure.

“Please, Sid,” you begged, wanting his cock inside you. “I need you.”

Again, that cocky little smirk, the one that you’d fallen in love with, came out, before he thrust deep inside you. “You feel so fucking good.” He pushed your knees back, before leveraging himself over you, then began pumping in and out of your pussy. His lips found yours, devouring you as he stroked his cock in and out of you. For as long as you’d known him, and it had been a few hundred of those thousand games, this would never get old. You’d always love the feel of him thrusting deep inside you.

Sid pinned your hands on either side of your head and laced his fingers with yours. His mouth was still firmly attached to yours, as he pistoned in and out of you. You were on the edge, ready to fall over at any moment, when he finally broke the kiss, both of you panting. “I love you,” He said looking deep in your eyes, right as you fell apart. The sight and feel causing Sid to spiral down that path with you. He collapsed on top of you, after cumming deep inside you.

“I love you too,” you whispered stroking the nape of his neck, then running your fingers through his soft curls. He moved to his side taking you with him and the two of you laid there for several minutes just catching your breath. Finally, Sid got up and went to the foot of the bed. “What are you doing?”

“Eating my breakfast,” he laughed, bringing the tray back up. “I worked up an appetite.”

You grabbed the tray out of his hand as he snatched up another piece of bacon. “This is cold. I’ll go make you fresh while you shower. You’ve got practice soon.”

There was a pout on his face, one that usually appeared when there was a bad call on the ice. “You’re ruining my day with talk of that.”

“Well, how else are you going to get another thousand if you don’t get out of this bed.”

“Fine, I’m going.”

The two of you went about your day, as you would any normal game day, for although it was his thousandth game, some things you couldn’t change. “I’ll see you at the arena.” He said before kissing you goodbye. “You’ll be on time, right?”

“Of course, I will.” You’d never been late to anything of his or yours for that matter, but you knew he was fretting because there would be a special little ceremony before the game.

“I know. I’m just being paranoid, but you’re all that's here for this.” It was killing Sid that his parents couldn’t be here with Covid restrictions.

“I know, baby. I’ll be there extra early.”

“Thanks, babe. I love you.”

“Love you too.” He was out the door then and as soon as he was, you were putting your surprise for him into action. Of course, the Penguins had things planned out for him, but you’d wanted to do something special for him as well.

You got ready and headed to the arena, making sure you were there thirty minutes before the time Sid had asked you to be, along with your surprise. While this wasn’t the way you wanted to commemorate your husband’s milestone, both you and he would’ve preferred to do it in front of the home crowd in Pittsburgh, you were still happy that the team and NHL were recognizing his accomplishment.

Right before the National anthem, they brought out the carpet where you would meet Sid. You stood there, waiting as you heard the announcer start the speech. Sid looked over making sure you were there and you blew him a kiss, while he gave you a little smirk and wink back. He then turned his attention to the scoreboard to watch the montage and well wishes from everyone. You had tears in your eyes as you watched all his accomplishments. The video came to an end to the sound of piped-in applause and stick taps from both teams.

“Please welcome Sidney’s family,” you heard the announcer say before the door opened. Sid looked over as you walked out, his parents and sister trailing behind you. He was stunned that they were there. Why you weren’t sure, because they would never miss something this special in his life, but you’d definitely been able to pull off this little surprise. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stop the tears that threatened to fall, while yours were already tumbling down.

He stopped at your first, kissing you through your mask. “How did you?”

“I’ll tell you later. I love you, baby. Congratulations.” He moved on hugging and kissing the cheeks of all his family members, while a couple of the guys brought out flowers for you, Trina and Taylor. Geno and Tanger brought out his sliver stick, while Rusty handed out the special plaque that was made. It was over within minutes but the reaction from Sid would last a lifetime in your mind.

At the end of the night, everyone celebrated his accomplishment with champagne at the arena. His parents told him that it had been all your doing to get them here, making sure that they had covid tests and getting them a hotel to stay at for the surprise. They would be staying on a few days longer, but at your home with the two of you.

“I don’t know how to thank you, babe. This means so much.”

“I still have a couple surprises left.” You pulled out one of the boxes you had hidden for him.

He opened the gift, a specially made Rolex watch commemorating his accomplishment. “Wow, this is incredible.”

“Just like you,” you told him before handing him the other.

“Sweetie this is way too much. You didn’t need to do all this.”

“Shush,” you told. “You deserve it, though this one has a no return policy on it so I hope you like it.”

His curiosity was piqued at that and he tore away the paper quickly. Lifting the lid, he gasped, smiling brightly at what he saw inside. “Really?” You simply smiled and nodded back.

“What is it, son?” Troy asked though everyone in the room's attention was now on Sidney.

“We’re having a baby,” Sid announced, before closing the lid and lifting you off the ground. He kissed you as champagne and cheers went up all around you. Sid set you down on your feet, after a few minutes, a worried look crossing his face. “Was that ok? Maybe I shouldn’t have told everyone.”

“It’s perfectly fine. I hope you don’t mind me telling you this way.”

“Mind? Babe this is perfect. You made this day one I’ll never forget.” His hands were roaming over your belly, where the baby grew even though you hadn’t started to show at all.

“I think you did that all on your own.”

“Nah, it’s taken everyone here to get me this far in my career, and it’s taken you to get me something I’ve always dreamed of.” Pregnancy hormones were getting the best of you as happy tears started to pool in your eyes. “Just think, if I make it to fifteen-hundred games, our little one will be out there with you.”

“You’ll make it to that and I have a feeling it’ll be more than one little one out there, Mr. Crosby.”

“God, I hope so. I love you, Mrs. Crosby.”

“Love you too, Sid.”