#meant to be a rain theme for a city

[ichorai]

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur. 

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat���which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 

“Oka—mmph!” 

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you. 

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

[sinner-as-saint]

no masters or kings

Priest!Bucky x Reader 

Run-through: Father Barnes’ life had been rather peaceful for years. He never complained though, he chose this. Between mass on Sundays, bible study sessions during the week, and office hours, the amount of time he has left he dedicated to reading and keeping his body active. There wasn’t much to do in this small, almost forgotten town. Then a new face appeared. A woman, married to some businessman who leaves her all by herself while he grows his fortune in the city. Father Barnes seemed determined at first, to herd and care for the new, young, lonely little lamb. But that is until he found himself tempted to sin like never before. 

Themes: priest!bucky, smut, degrading kink, infidelity, explicit language, (sacrilege, blasphemy, and all the other bad stuff)

a/n: i’m going hell anyway so yeah, PILFS <3 

“It’s very late.” 

His hushed voice echoed in the empty, dark church. Your back stiffened as you froze, standing by the pews. You turned around slowly and found him standing at the entrance, the rain falling noisily behind him. As if creating a curtain to separate you two from the world outside. 

You knew where the switches were but you didn’t turn on the light when you walked in. There was just enough light coming from the outside to allow you to move properly and see. So you couldn’t exactly see the expression on his face. 

But you saw that he was drenched, completely. He must’ve gone on a run, you figured, and instead of going back home for the night, he saw the little light at the church doorstep and decided to come check who was here. 

“I… I couldn’t sleep.” You whispered back, watching him as he stepped inside and shook his head – reminding you a little of a dog shaking – as he tried to get the rain water out of his hair. “You once said you always left the church unlocked so I thought…,” You sighed, “I should probably go.” 

“No.” He was quick to say, in that tone. Your body tensed up. “Stay.” He added quietly. 

You looked at him. Drenched jacket, wet track pants sticking to his body, he was breathing heavily so he must’ve ran all the way here. He did that often, he once said. He liked running at night. 

You watched as he stepped closer to where you stood. That little bit of grey in his beard drove you insane. Suddenly you couldn’t think. 

He had that look about him which you could only describe as ‘priestly’. Wise, slightly older, calm. He was the kind of man you’d want to open up to. You’d want him to see all that was dark and wrong inside your human heart only so he could use that firm, strong voice and tell you that it’s all gonna be okay. That you were forgiven. Loved. And never alone. 

You watched as he unzipped his jacket, revealing that ridiculously tight black shirt inside which clung to his ridiculously muscular torso. 

“Did you need me?” He asked, again in that voice. That comforting voice that made everything okay. 

You knew what he meant. How he meant it. You knew he meant it in an innocuous way. But fuck if your mind didn’t go straight to that sinful pit it stays in. Temptation, like a vicious vine, reached and wrapped around your brain as you struggled to speak. 

It was always like this. Ever since the first time you stepped foot in this space and found Father Barnes sitting in silence all by himself. At first you mistook him for being just a parishioner. Black slacks, black shirt with the sleeves rolled up till his elbows, only when he turned around to face you did you notice the white collar. But by then it was too late and in your head you’d already imagined his naked body taking yours, owning you, using you. 

That day, you could tell he could almost read your mind. You were embarrassed so you excused yourself and left quickly. And anytime you wanted to be back here, and be good and behave, one look at Father Barnes and you felt like you were burning with all that pent up desire. 

It wasn’t entirely your fault. When you married your husband, you knew what you were getting into. You knew you married a man who was already married to his job in the city. But your parents couldn’t let such a wealthy, beneficial, and strong alliance go. You were given a luxurious life. There was nothing you lacked. 

You had a lavish home here in this small town, a wedding gift from your busy husband who visited maybe twice a year. You had it all. Money, vintage cars, horses you loved, a home you liked taking care of, privacy, all of it. 

All except company. Intimacy. Feeling a warm body press up against yours at night. Feeling warm skin against yours in the early hours of a lazy morning. You never got to hold hands with anyone, or get a hug. Or share a meal with. Or go on walks with. You were all alone here. And maybe that loneliness pushed you to visit the church the first time. 

Ever since, Father Barnes had become a habit. Watching him, picturing him doing unholy things to you, noticing him whenever you were at a coffee shop, or the library. You yearned for him. And it was all only heightened by the fact that he was so unreachable. So kind. So unlike how you wanted him to be. To him, you were just another lost soul he wanted to guide. 

Did you need me? 

Yes. Yes you did. In the most dirtiest of ways one can imagine. He was a handsome man. Kind blue eyes, long black hair that nearly reached his shoulders, a face only God could’ve created, and that body that he liked to take care of. He was a dream. 

And a priest. 

“I…” You struggled to find your words. “I thought a walk would help tire me out and put me to sleep. But then it started raining so here I am.” You gave him a faint smile. 

He returned one back. 

He ran his fingers through his wet, long hair and said, “I can keep you company for a while, if you want.” 

He waited. Then you said, “I’d like that.” 

–

Bucky was praying in his head as he asked you to take a seat, then sat down beside you. 

He prayed to God, in fact to anyone and anything that would listen to him. God, gods, universe, the freaking stars in the night sky which weren’t visible right now because it was pouring like it was the end of the world. He prayed you wouldn’t glimpse down and see the thing growing in his pants. 

He was ashamed. 

Ever since he first saw you, there was this pull he’d never felt before. It was like having burning hot claws sink into his flesh each time he laid eyes on you. Out on the streets, in the coffee shops, in the library, in the little diners, at the freaking grocery store, in parking lots – it was a small town so he saw you a lot. 

He had to walk by your extravagant property each time he went to the bakery, and each time he felt like a little boy who was excited to see whether or not the pretty girl would be outside this time to smile and give him a little wave. 

Then each time he saw you in this church it was somehow way worse. Like being here made the temptation more sinful. 

Bucky looked up at the cross and mentally begged. Make it stop. This is wrong. Make it stop. 

“You know you don’t have to do this.” Your gentle voice spoke. “I’m sure you need your sleep.” 

“It would be wrong of me to leave you here all by yourself.” He said, realising that this was the longest conversation you two had had. Usually you were too shy to even look him in the eyes. You kept your sentences short and always looked caught. 

So he liked this. 

Silence. 

Then you said, “I was never religious, you know?” There was a faint smile in that tone, he didn’t have to look to know. 

“Are you now?” 

He could feel your shrug. “I don’t know.” You answered. “I don’t think I have what it takes to be… so desperately good. Like you, for instance.” 

Oh if only you knew… 

Bucky shifted in his seat. Mentally begged God some more as the quiet tone of your voice made it hard for him to even sit still. He wanted to let out some of the primal aggression he was feeling. Squeeze something. Bite something. Sink into something. Preferably your tight hot body. 

Heavens. He sighed. Help me. 

Clearing his throat he said, “You don’t have to be if you don’t want to. It’s enough for me that you feel comfortable enough just to come here and feel like you’re not alone.” 

A moment of silence passed, with just the sound of heavy rain in the background. “But it’s not enough for me.” Then you quickly added, as if embarrassed that you must have overshared, “I shouldn’t be saying these things.” 

“Why not?” He frowned. What things? 

You let out a soft chuckle that only sent more blood down to his rock hard cock. Bucky clenched his fists, struggling. 

“It’s the middle of the night. I should go.” You said. 

No. He didn’t want you to go. “If there are things you need to voice out,” He said, “Would the booth make you feel more comfortable?” 

You chuckled again, turning your head to look at him. Bucky let his eyes roam all over you very, very quickly. Dark trousers, dark jacket, a scarf around your neck… too many layers. He almost groaned as he imagined himself peeling all those layers off of you. 

“Oh Father Barnes,” You sighed. “Maybe another time.” 

Then you left. Leaving him confused, aroused, and feeling way too much. 

— 

The next time Bucky saw you was yet again, on a random rainy night. After his daily run, he noticed the small lamp outside the church door was lit and ran all the way to the church to check out who it was. 

He ignored the boyish hope in his heart which begged that it’d be you. Yet he breathed out in relief when he saw it truly was you. 

“Can’t sleep?” He asked, hoping his tone wasn’t too teasing. 

You gave him a small smile and nodded. “Would you… um, last time you mentioned the booth. Do you think, I mean, I know it’s late and–,” 

He cut you off by walking over and placing his hands on your shoulders. “Whatever makes you feel more comfortable. Follow me.” 

You did. 

–

Sitting down on the wooden bench felt weird. You’d never done it before. Never been inside the wooden box. The space was small, dark wooden panels on all sides. A small opening allowed you to partially see Father Barnes on the other side, that is if it was during the daytime. Right now, it was all too dark. You only knew he was there by the sound of movement. 

The air smelled like candle wax and incense. It felt mysterious, intimate almost to be here with him. It felt weirdly comforting. Maybe this is why people come back, you thought. 

“You’ve never done this, have you?” He asked. 

“No.” You replied, feeling a little out of place. 

“Well, we begin with the sign of the cross…” He trailed off, as if hoping you’d do it along with him. You did. Then silence. “Now, you may tell me about the things you left without saying last time.” 

You took a deep breath. Then said, “I think I’ve been alone for way too long.” 

There was a pause before he spoke. “Alone? You mean in this town?” 

You exhaled calmly and explained, “I mean in my marriage.” 

–

Bucky closed his eyes and sighed. Alone in your marriage? God help him. This was not helping his sick, twisted fantasies. All those times he fantasised as he walked by your expensive home about how he could just walk in and find where you are and demand you let him take you. Your husband wouldn’t be home. He never was, everyone knew that. Most people pitied you, the rest envied your lifestyle. But he… oh it was his most sinful fantasy till date. 

He forced himself to ask, even though he was in no shape to hear the answer, “What is it that makes you feel this way? Is there a lack of some kind?” 

He heard your shaky breath, as if you were debating whether you should tell him. “I…” You started, then stopped. Then sighed and finally said, “I’ve never been with my husband.” You explained further. “We both agreed that our marriage was only a way to solidify the business transactions between our families. We both agreed we wouldn’t be a conventional couple. He craved his busy work like in the city and I liked the tranquillity of a small town.” You paused. 

Bucky listened intently. 

“So I knew what I was getting into when I got married and moved here, while my husband remained in the city. We only see each other maybe for two weekends out of the year and that too only during the holidays when we need to put on a show for our families and smile and look happy in family photos. And I was fine with it.” Another defeated sigh. “But then it got lonely.” 

Bucky sucked in a breath as he shook his head slightly, begging God again. Don’t let my mind go there. Don’t let the fantasies seem attainable. Please. He begged. But he also needed to say something back. Something priestly. And quick. 

“I see.” He cleared his throat, refusing to even acknowledge the growing desire in his pants. Yet again. “So it’s the distance. How long has this been the case?” 

You replied, “Since the very start. I’ve never been with him, you see?” 

No. No. No. 

“Never lived with him? Never felt a sense of companionship? I admit, that must be very hard. To feel alone in a marriage–,” 

“Father Barnes,” It sounded like you were begging in shame as you interrupted him. “I have never had sex with him. Or anyone. Ever since I got married two years ago. Do you understand now?” 

“Oh.” 

You let out a soft chuckle. “Oh? I guess it must come naturally to you. To dodge those, um, desires but, I’m only human. I’m a woman, with needs. I… it worries me sometimes because often it is all I can think about all day.” Another humourless laugh. “I don’t have much to do, you see? I do enjoy the simplicity of the small town. I love my animals, my staff, I get to do things I’ve always wanted to do. I can drive around and read, and paint, and cook, and I truly do enjoy my company but sometimes… It can be very lonely. One time I–,” 

You cut yourself off. And silence followed. Tormenting Bucky even more as you left him wondering. And oh did he wonder. About your lonely nights. About you in your luxurious home, in your large bed, fingers sliding in and out from in between your thighs, crying out loud as you make yourself come. Poor you. Rich, lonely wife of a careless, rich man. Forced to take care of your needs all by yourself. 

If only there was an equally lonely man able to keep you company. If only… 

“What?” He asked, because he needed to know. “One time you what?” 

“I… you know there are people who provide services. For women like me.” Your breathy voice was driving him to the fucking edge. 

“Women like you?” 

“Yes.” Your voice was more firm now, almost like you were smiling in a mischievous way. “You know? Rich, lonely women. I almost, I mean for the longest time I contemplated hiring a male escort. But then I didn’t.” 

“I see.” He said again. “Feeling alone and neglected can result in wanting companionship in whatever form is available.” 

He was barely holding on to fucking sanity now. 

“But it was wrong, wasn’t it? To want to be with another man, any man at this point to be honest.” You sighed. “It’s like an itch that never goes away. And it makes me…” You paused, then said, “It makes me want things, crave things, crave people that I shouldn’t. It’s getting worse and worse,” You confessed. “Sometimes I leave the doors and windows unlocked or opened, even at night,” You sighed, struggling too by the sound of it, “Shamelessly hoping someone might just walk in and–,”

“Stop.” He said, using a voice he never did before. He had never interrupted a penitent so rudely. So suddenly. But he heard his own twisted fantasy come out of your mouth in that breathy tone he would lose it. “Please,” He begged in a lowered voice. 

Then he heard your gasp. Like you were ashamed. Alone in that wooden box, drowning in your desires and temptation. Right there, in this dark night, right fucking there for him to take. To taste. To touch. He was no one but a starved male at that point. He was nothing but the desires in his head. The fantasy. The claws of sin dug into him, reaching places he thought he’d shut off forever but there they were, open and raw and wanting. Wanting you. 

He didn’t know when he got out of his side of the booth and opened the other side to find you with a surprised look on your face. Surprised, but with lust in your eyes. 

“Father Barnes?” 

Bucky was crossing that line he shouldn’t. He knew he was. There was no going back. Not as he knelt down right in front of you. The space was cramped but he didn’t care. He knelt in between your legs and looked up at you. 

“You said you craved people you shouldn’t. Is one of them me?” He asked. 

–

The tension was too much. The air around you shifted. You looked down at him, not regretting the dress you wore because now you could feel him in between your bare legs. Even in the dark his body tormented you. He was still cold and drenched from the rain earlier. But so firm with your thighs pressing around him. 

“Yes.” You answered, truthfully. 

His warm hands were on your bare thighs immediately. Rubbing up and down like he had all the time in the world. “Is that so?” He questioned. His tone was lower, darker. Grave. Fuck. “Is that why you wore a pretty dress to come see me? In the middle of the night?” 

He leaned in, lips brushing against your collarbones and neck as he breathed. His warm breath making you squirm and shiver. You bit back a moan as he slowly slid his hands under your dress. 

He looked down at his hands disappearing beneath your dress for a quick moment before he looked back up into your eyes in disbelief. 

“Did you wear this for me?” He asked upon further inspecting your body, as his fingers brushed against the softest, thinnest of lace underwear. “Surely you didn’t wear this for your husband who never comes home to you, hmm? Answer me.” 

“No.” You answered firmly. “I didn’t wear it for him.” Of course you didn’t. Your husband treated you like you were non-existent. Not that you minded. 

Bucky chuckled, his mouth still exploring your skin. His stubble rough against your soft skin. “And what did you think was gonna happen here? Showing up dressed like a shameless woman. Did you hope you could tempt me into touching you?” He whispered. 

His fingers slowly slid past your underwear, exploring the warmth there. You let out a soft moan, your own fingers sliding into his hair as he groaned upon feeling how wet you were. 

One moment he had a little bit of sanity left where he kept telling himself that he could stop at any moment if he wanted to. But then he slid his finger inside you, and the soft moan you let out was his undoing. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he leaned in to kiss you. Hard and fast, before his mouth found its way down your neck again, until he wrapped his mouth around your clothed nipple and sucked. Hard. 

You couldn’t help but gasp and moan as his warm mouth wrapped around your flesh, wetting the fabric of your dress. Then he shifted to the other one, making you whine and squirm against him. Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently as he toyed with your breasts. 

And then he was eagerly bunching up your dress so he could taste what he wanted the most, that wetness in between your legs. “Good women don’t do this, you know?” He whispered, “What if someone comes in here right now and decides they need some peaceful alone time? What then?” 

You whined as he lowered your underwear, throwing it aside carelessly. You knew nobody would come in here right now. It was the middle of the night again. This whole small town was asleep. Not even one car drove on the road. But you still played into the fantasy because it was so hot. You were burning, feeling the touch of a man after so long. 

“They’d catch us.” You said, “They’d catch you.” You groaned, doing absolutely nothing to stop him. 

Bucky chuckled, “Or maybe they’d see you spreading your legs like a desperate whore for me and decide they want to watch the show. Maybe they’d even grab a chair and sit, and watch as I make you feel good.” You whined upon hearing his words. He couldn’t help the smirk. “You like that? Hmm? The possibility of someone finding you in here, legs spreading and your arousal dripping out of you? Does that make you feel powerful? Wanted?” 

“Please…” You begged, quietly. 

Then he gave you what you wanted. And you let him. You let him taste you until he had his fill. You let him take one of your legs and put it over his shoulder which opened you up even more to his warm, eager mouth. To his tongue which slid in and out and up and down until you were almost crying in pleasure. 

“Look at you,” He said, kissing down your inner thigh. “Spreading your legs for a man of God like a shameless little slut, hmm? Is that what you are?” 

He ate you out until you were trembling, until your arousal was dripping down his chin. “Fuck, please!” You cried out, fingers tugging on his hair. His tongue, his lips, the gentle suction of his warm mouth –  it was all too much. 

“Is this what you wanted? All those times you left your doors and windows unlocked, did you ever wish I would wander in and just take you however I wanted?” He moved his head side to side, his coarse stubble brushing against your soft inner thighs. “Hmm? Did you ever think about me while touching yourself, you filthy little whore?” 

“Yes…” You whined and trembled, trying to keep your voice down as he made you lose your mind by eating you out like a starved man. 

Which he was. It was like he was tasting the most forbidden of fruits after years of being denied. Like he was suddenly unchained and free. Hungry. 

You whined as he pulled away without letting you come. You wondered if he regretted this, if he would kick you out but he only pulled you off the bench, flipped the two of you around in the dark so that he was the one sitting on the bench now and pulled you onto his lap. 

You were surprised for only a moment, but then got over it as you found your impatient hands at the waistband of his track pants. You paused, for only a moment, fingers toying with the waistband of his underwear, you looked up into his eyes, they shone even in the near complete dark. Like he was… godly. 

“Are you sure you want–,” 

He cut you off, firmly. Using that tone again. “I will die right here if I don’t take you right now, you hear me?” 

You nodded, reaching for his cock as you said in a shaky voice, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Did you?” His voice was suddenly deeper than earlier. 

You nodded, wondering if he even saw it in the dark. But you didn’t care, not as you wrapped your hand around his hard cock, hearing him hiss in pleasure as you lifted off of his lap, aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance before gently sinking down on him. 

“Oh fuck,” You cried out as you slid down his thick cock, his stare burning on your face as he thrust up into you, all the way in. 

“Fuck,” He swore, then leaned in to give you a wet, messy kiss as he thrust his hips up. He hadn’t done this in a long, long time but nature took over. He wanted more, more, more. “This is all you wanted, huh? Always giving me those eyes, always giving me that look,” He sounded stern. Almost mad. “You were basically always around me like a bitch in heat, hmm? Is this cock all you were craving? While living in your nice big house, your husband away earning money for you to spend, all this time you’ve been thinking about me, hmm?” 

“Yes…” You whined as he grabbed your hips and guided you up and down his cock, stretching you out in the process. You held onto his shoulders as you rode his cock, bouncing on it while you moaned for him, bending a little so as to not hit the roof of the booth. 

“Yes what?” He asked, sounding all cocky and less priestly as he smacked your thigh. 

“Father Barnes,” You corrected yourself, “You’re all I wanted. You’re all I think about.” You felt him fill you up nicely each time, the pressure in between your legs getting hotter and hotter. He was better than you could’ve ever imagined. Bigger, even. 

“You don’t even care how wrong this is, do you?” He threw his head back, grunting at how good you felt. “You don’t even care what you’re doing to a pious man like myself.” He let out a strained moan, as he thrust into you over and over again, while also bringing you down on his cock each time with enough force to make your tits bounce. “I thought about you too, you know? About this tight little cunt, dripping and hungry for me. Some nights I would’ve done anything for just a taste of you.” 

His words were too much. The whole situation was too much. Too good. The space felt hot, stuffy, and sinful. “Please, I need to come. Please.” You said, unable to hold back your moans when he placed his thumb over your clit and rubbed it gently, in sync with his thrusts. It only made you clench harder around him. 

You bit your lip to hold back your moans as he thrust his hips up more into you, your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came so close to coming undone for him. 

“You’re gonna come for me, little lamb?” He asked, “You’re gonna come all over my cock like a shameless woman, huh? Not caring about where we are, what time it is, or what your husband might think if he ever finds out, you don’t care, do you?” He chuckled. “You’re too cock-drunk to care, too much of a little slut for me to care, huh?” 

You answered after a loud whimper, “Yes… please.” 

He cupped your cheek and traced your mouth with his thumb, “Go on. Come all over my cock. Come for me…” 

Your walls clenched violently around his cock. You came hard, whimpering and crying for him and gasping for breath. 

Bucky came right after you, feeling his whole body tingle like this was the closest to heaven he’ll ever get. His warm load spilling inside you as he wrapped his arms around you and held you like you were the most fragile thing in the world. Like he hadn’t just rammed his cock in and out of you like an animal. Like he hadn’t just sinned in so many ways. 

You caught your breath, wrapped in his strong arms. Your head rested on his shoulder as you tried to calm your racing heart. You could feel his cock twitch inside you, his cum flowing out of you. 

“You’re not gonna hire any stranger to come and keep you company, you hear me?” 

You nodded, face brushing against his damp shirt and his warm neck. It felt good here, in his embrace. It felt safe. 

“I’m here, and you’re mine to take care of now. When you need to be fucked, you come find me. Is that understood?” 

You smirked, then said, “Yes, Father Barnes.” 

---

part 2

[robinsfilm]

FURRY NEW BEGGINGS

navigation ; masterlist.

pairing : jason todd ✗ gn!reader.

summary : In which the cat distribution system catches up to you and Jason.

warnings : no serious warnings, just alot of fluff and a short lived (or not) rivalry between the cat and jaybeans.

word count : 1k.

notes : switching up the theme a bit, can't always find those pretty headers. wE NEED A NAME FOR THE CAT!!!

The first time he saw the cat, Jason was returning home from patrol. The rain was pouring down in streets, and he hurried through the storm, eager to get back to you as quickly as possible. The weather made everything difficult—the buildings blurred together, neon signs became unreadable, and the sounds of the city were muffled through his helmet.

But despite the downpour, he didn't miss the small spot of light orange in the corner of his eye. It stood out against the dark, murky colors of the alley it was huddled in. Nestled in a small, soggy cardboard box between two trash bags, something shifted.

What's that?

Jason knew he needed to get home. He was freezing and bone-tired, but his curiosity got the better of him.

What's the worst that could happen?

Turns out, the worst that could happen is making a new, vicious enemy out of a stray cat.

Jason landed swiftly in the dark alley, the shadows swallowing up what little light there was. He approached the cardboard box cautiously and gently lifted the lid, unsure of what he might find inside.

The first thing that caught his attention was a pair of greenish-brown eyes staring back at him, followed by the sight of ginger-striped fur. The creature let out a small, plaintive mewl.

Oh, it’s a cat.

In the box sat a big, angry orange tabby. A very angry orange tabby, actually. The cat gave him a fixed, piercing stare, its fur and tail puffing up as it let out a throaty, warning meow.

Jason instinctively raised his hands, palms open, to show he meant no harm, but it was too late—the cat swiped at him with a paw, claws fully extended!

"Alright, I got the hint! No need for violence, little guy. Well—not so little. I mean, just look at you." Jason chuckled softly, trying to diffuse the tension.

The cat's ears swiveled backward and flattened against its head, its body puffing up even more as it attempted to make itself look bigger, more intimidating.

"Okay, okay. I’ll leave you to... whatever you’re doing."

*****

The second time he saw the cat was when he was with you, just returning from a grocery run.

"Who even says that to a worker? It's not like they set the prices," you huffed, recounting an incident at the 7/11 you both had just visited. An old lady had been loudly complaining about the cost of a few products, taking it out on the poor cashier behind the counter.

"I know, baby, but you put her in her place." Jason wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. "So, don't worry about it anymore."

"You're right, it's just—" Jason’s ear tuned out your next words as a familiar spot of light orange caught his eye. A pair of greenish-brown eyes glared at him menacingly.

No way... it can't be the same cat...

"Honey? Jay? What's wrong?" you asked, turning to him, trying to catch his attention.

"Huh? Oh, yeah? Sorry," Jason replied, snapping back to reality with a smile. "Something just caught my eye." But when he turned to look again, the cat was already gone.

Annoying little bastard...

"What did?" you inquired, glancing around to spot whatever had distracted him.

"An orange tabby cat that I’ve apparently started a rivalry with." Jason deadpanned.

"You started a what with a what..?" you stammered, clearly confused by his response. But Jason just grabbed your hand and quickly led you away.

*****

The third time he saw the cat was in his apartment. In his goddamn home.

Jason dropped the bag of snacks he’d just bought from the corner shop out of sheer shock. How did the cat find him? Had it followed him? Was this how it spotted him last time near the grocery store? What was this cat’s plan?

Just then, you rounded the corner, emerging from the kitchen with a small bowl of wet cat food in your hands.

Your face lit up when you saw him. "Welcome back!"

"Hi, baby. Who’s this?" Jason pointed to the cat, now holding its tail high with a slight curl at the top. The cat purred softly as it rubbed its head against Jason’s boot.

"Awh! Look, he likes you!" You beamed, your face lighting up with a smile. "Is this the tabby you were talking about? I can’t imagine him being evil at all, isn’t that right?" You squealed with delight, setting the bowl down near the cat.

The cat slowly blinked at you before cautiously approaching the bowl and taking a tentative bite of the food.

Jason tried to ask how the cat got in, where you found it, and why you let it in, but you shushed him.

"Did you just shush me?" he muttered in disbelief, half-laughing.

"I think it’s fate!" you exclaimed. "You found him, he found you, and now he’s here! He belongs with us. Please, Jay, can we keep him?"

Now that was something he never thought he’d hear. Usually, it was Damian asking Bruce to keep some random animal he’d found—not as a pet, of course. Oh no, not at all.

Jason stared at the tabby for a few moments, then at you, with your big smile and pleading eyes staring back at him.

Crap, this is hard. No wonder Bruce never says no to whatever Damian drags into the house. Jason still remembers the cow...

"...Fine."

"Yay!" You celebrated with a little hop.

"How did it even find us?" Jason eyed the cat suspiciously.

"I’m not sure. But you’ve got to get used to him. I think he likes you!" you said as the cat wobbled back over and rubbed its head against Jason’s boot again. "See? Isn’t he adorable?"

Jason sighed softly, then gave you both a small, reluctant smile. "Yeah, he’s a little bit cute, I guess."

"Oh, I almost forgot! We need to name him."

Jason grumbled under his breath. This was going to be a long week—but maybe, just maybe, it might be a tad bit happier than the previous ones.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[zh-lele]

Oasis Part 1

In a hostile environment or in a sequence of unpleasant situations, an oasis provides pleasure.

▪︎Pairing: vampire!Doyoung x club dancer!fem reader x vampire!Johnny

▪︎Genres: supernatural, horror, smut, romance if you want to call it like that (it's not).

▪︎Warnings: mature themes; explicit sexual content, drugs and alcohol involved, guns, violence, death scenes and mentions of it, and some gore scenes. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

▪︎Wordcount for Part 1: ~16.8k words.

Author's note: hey everyone 👀 it's been ages. Writing this fic got out of hand lol so I split it into parts. This is all plot building 😭 more is coming. Also, the characters are sick to their heads so none of this is alright ofc and it's a twisted fic so if you are uncomfy don't read it! I rlly don't wanna bother anyone. Read pairings, genre and warnings before proceeding. And enjoy this first part! More is coming your way. Here's a playlist to kinda set the mood if you'd like. Tysm!!! 🖤

Who sees them walking around the city if they are all blind? They hold hands; something speaks between their fingers, sweet tongues lick the moist palm, run through the phalanges, and above is the night full of eyes.

01: words that will satisfy me

Lightning split the sky as the rain lashed the roof of the old bus, the drops seeping through the leaks, wetting the worn leather of its seats and spreading on the floor. You were lucky that public transportation was running that night and under those conditions, even more so considering that you had to be on time for your show at the casino—you couldn't afford to lose another night of work to torrential rains, even if it meant walking for forty minutes under the water from your house to the luxurious building.

The dirty streets of Seoul were already empty by the time you got off the bus, except for the old man you couldn't escape from even a single night arriving at the casino. While he wasn't inside, spending what was probably his last life savings on alcohol, drugs, and women (like most of the men you saw every night), he was living on the outskirts; under the big billboard of neon lights and on the fine and cold marble of the entrance serving as his refuge, along with a bed made of cardboard and an old, dirty mattress. Yuta kicked him out every night, especially the moment you arrived and he remembered the old man's presence due to the nasty comments he would give you, as you started up the stairs and toward the big golden doors.

Tonight was no different. Yuta left his position at the entrance as fast as he saw you coming and felt the old man open his mouth—although he didn't have a chance to say anything. As if Yuta could guess his intentions, he was in charge of throwing him in the hands of two high-security guards to the street and under that torrential rain; the homeless man's few belongings getting completely drenched, and causing the man to wail as he wandered off in search of a different place to spend the night. Only a series of what you assumed were complaints and curses came out of Yuta's mouth, in his native tongue.

Yuta lit a cigarette and didn't bother to return to his position. A quick wave of his hands was enough to have another man replace him, while he smoked under the cover of the water, resting momentarily from another night enriching his pockets in the largest casino in the city.

The look he gave you as you waited for this other man to read your work card was hostile as if Yuta could guess your intentions too. And he put you on alert for a moment.

He opened his mouth to speak. A cold ran through your whole body at the same time that lightning struck right on the building across the street, highlighting the silhouette of the Japanese above the violent discharge. He squeezed then opened his eyes, already too irritated by all the interruption, to continue:

"Go upstairs. Dry yourself up and put on some other clothes. Doyoung wants to see you."

"But my show starts at two o'clock."

"Just do as I say."

When the man at the entrance returned your card indicating that you could now enter, you hurried to walk on the red carpet, passing between round tables and banquettes padded with burgundy velvet. The smell of alcohol mingled with that of fine perfumes and that of the money, scattered on each table among glasses, cards, and chips, and also kept in the pockets and wallets of the rich.

The back pocket of your black imitation of leather pants buzzed, so you reached for an old phone, its broken screen showing a message from Soyeon where she attached a picture of a ladder; the red neon lights of a "V.I.P." sign shone above it. You wondered why she was at the entrance to the third floor—an exclusive place that humans like you and Soyeon rarely frequented. So you quickly typed a message questioning what that photo meant before going downstairs.

The club was located below the casino and just above the parking lot. The stairs were marked with neon green arrows indicating floor -1 if you went down—your designated place of work. It was a very different world from the casino. While above the gold metal-edged bars gleamed in the warm light of huge chandeliers, below the place could barely be defined; cigarette smoke obscured what little vision the red lights dangling from the ceiling provided, and the confines of the club were lost in darkness, making it easy to get lost in that dive for hours.

The floor was slippery from the amount of alcohol that had already been spilled throughout the night, and you had to be careful not to trip or injure yourself on a dropped glass bottle. It was hard to move through the bodies that wouldn't stop dancing and pushing and gasping for breath as the club got more and more crowded. But still, you made it backstage and to the dressing rooms where you and the dancers were getting ready for the shows every night.

You got inside in a hurry, making one of the boys that shared the stage with you get up from an old black leather couch and offer his help. "Girl, you need me to do something for you?"

"Please," you begged while looking at him through the mirror. "Can you get my suit and my boots?"

Without wasting a second, you started working on your makeup. Red and black eyeshadow that accentuated your gaze, and a lipstick that was about to run out after so many nights of shared use—bloody red is what said on the side of its cover.

The boy returned shortly after with your clothes in one hand and a glass of liquor in the other. He lit a cigarette inside the small space while you changed, his eyes following your every move. Only the music coming from the club filled your ears until you opened the door ready to go out and he questioned you.

"Where are you going? There's still five until the show starts."

"Yeah, I know but…" you hesitated on telling him. It wasn't a secret amongst the human workers that you and Doyoung kind of had a thing—they knew you fucked from time to time, but you had no clue why he wanted to see you at that moment.

Doyoung managed everything and everyone at the club and knew your schedule like the palm of his hand. Work had always been his top priority as well, so you knew for sure he wasn't going to make you show up late on stage. Still, you didn't want to raise suspicions about anything, didn't want people to talk too much.

The boy—that was named Ten and was the second nicest person you knew as soon as you started working at the club—raised his brows at you, growing impatient, making gestures with both his hands for you to keep talking.

"Doyoung wants to see me," you finally concluded. "I don't know what he wants, but it'll be quick."

Ten only hummed and reached inside of his platforms, taking out a small blade and putting it in front of your face. His breath, which smelled like mint and whiskey, brushed your face while he talked. "Be careful." And he hid the blade inside one of your boots.

Ten had been working at the club for years and knew vampires very well. Even though none of the vamps in charge had ever harmed him, he couldn't say the same for the customers who came from the outside. For this reason, he didn't trust them, and he always reminded you to handle yourself with special care, especially when he found out about you and Doyoung.

You gave him a nod along with a sympathetic smile and closed the door behind you on your way to Doyoung's office.

A long corridor connected the backstage dressing room to a mezzanine at the other end of the club. Suspended in the air from one side to the other, its tinted glass walls stretched to the roof of the club. Doyoung kept his office lit to a minimum, and the red lights outside it blocked all vision through the glass and into his office. This allowed him to have absolute control of everything that happened in his club, and to give orders without even having to get up from his chair.

You knocked on his door and looked above, at the corner of the corridor, letting the camera focus on your face. The door buzzed, indicating you were good to come inside.

Doyoung was sitting in his green velvet upholstered chair, facing the glass walls. A suit almost as pale as his skin accentuated his defined figure, even in that position. He turned to you, a welcoming smile adorning his face, and extended his left hand, the one not occupied with a glass feeding his vampire tendencies, inviting you to get closer.

He called your name before holding your hand and bringing it to his lips. A soft kiss on your knuckles, which left them stained with a slightly thick red liquid. "I'll be brief since I don't want to delay us in our tasks, but I had to tell you this in person."

He set his glass down on his desk and moved you even closer, positioning yourself between his legs. He looked over your body with his gaze and dared to open the fine, shiny cloth robe that covered it. He caressed the curves of your hip and passed the palms of his hands over the micro tulle that covered your abdomen until he stopped below your breasts.

"You will dance on the third-floor stage tonight, along with Soyeon," he finally said, his clear eyes piercing your dark gaze. "Whatever happens there, you must tell me. Don't forget who you work for."

You swallowed dry. So Soyeon was at the entrance to the third floor because the two of you would be working there that night. Dancing for the vampires. Anxiety quickly took over your body, and you felt your hands and feet start to sweat. You were lucky Doyoung couldn't notice that temperature change, or he would have given you away.

"Won't you be there with the rest of them?"

This was not going according to your plan.

He denied it with his head. His hands began to move again, caressing your back and reaching the edge of your see-through dress. He lifted it, you felt the cold on your skin, and he squeezed both buttcheeks, awakening the lust within you.

He took a breath of air that inflated his chest, causing the emeralds that hung rimmed in gold around his neck to rise and fall. He moved you at his will until you were sitting on top of him, your sex barely covered by a thong that resembled black leather in contact with his bulge, and you had to make an enormous effort not to forget the plan and take him right then and there. Getting rid of Doyoung would be much more difficult than you had imagined.

"Don't forget who you must be loyal to."

02: this is not a threat

It is important to create eye contact with the audience when you are performing. That was never a problem at the club, with its stage right in front of Doyoung's office. And while you couldn't see him from your place, you knew that he was always watching you from above, so your gaze was directed most of the time towards his tinted windows. He helped your concentration and allowed you to focus on the dance. On the third floor stage, however, you felt quite lost; too many things happened there.

In the club, just a large group of mortals huddled under the smoke and red lights, paying little attention to what was happening onstage. In the vampires' cave, distractions were everywhere. The white lights that illuminated the stage blinded you from time to time but still allowed you to make out the scenes. Vampires sipping drinks at the bars, smoking around a game of poker, passing through heavy velvet curtains, going in and out of small cabins with humans who had a job other than yours. Some came staggering out of there, like drunk on something and wiping their lips, while others just came out arranging their clothes to resume their activities around a table or on the small dance floor.

But despite everything that was distracting, you were forced to make eye contact. You felt a presence, someone's gaze heavy on your figure, hidden in a dark corner of that exclusive area. The lights spun illuminating him for a split second, but it was long enough for his amber eyes to finally find yours. From that moment on, you felt attracted to the man as if you were magnets. You went down the stairs of the stage and walked between the chairs and tables, making some of the vampires who hadn't paid attention to you yet turn to look at you. Not for a second could you lower your gaze from his or focus on anything other than dancing for that man.

He was sitting in the middle of the round table smoking a cigarette, looking a little too relaxed for your liking. His white shirt was slightly ripped, revealing a barbed wire tattoo that stretched from clavicle to clavicle on his chest; below, on his right pectoral, a spider tattoo. Resting the weight of his body on a semi-extended arm holding a cane, looking too vampire-like under your eyes. His tattoos seemed to end on his hands: a floral engraving on the back that contrasted with the phrase on his fingers: be afraid.

You got on that rounded table on your hands and knees, not caring about whatever game was going on between the rest of the men and the women who sat with him. You wanted to seduce him, that you knew. And he didn't seem to mind, because when a tall, blonde guy got up to protest, this man silenced him with a simple gesture of his hand. You thought it had to be a common thing amongst these vampires—they held so much power they didn't even need to use many words. So you danced the rest of your choreography for him, felt and touched your body as if your hands were his until the music ended and the lights turned on again.

Reality came down to you as if you were descending from the sky at miles per hour, and you landed on the ground in your black platforms after getting off the table. You felt incredibly out of place, yet an incessant throbbing between your naked legs and this man's gaze on you was sending your mind into a spiral. You had no idea what just had happened.

His deep voice cut through the air in that cave—like lightning from the storm outside the casino. A chill ran down your back for the second time that night.

"No one tells Doyoung about this."

But he didn't mean it for the rest of the people seated with him—he knew they would remain silent.

He meant it for you.

Soyeon appeared next to you with her hands full of bills, and she began to push you in the opposite direction while addressing this man very politely.

"Please excuse us, sir." But it sounded highly strange to you, she didn't talk like that to any of the vampires, not even to Doyoung. "Thank you very much, sir. Ladies, gentlemen." She bowed and you followed automatically before the two of you started walking behind the stage.

"Who was that?" you asked once the two of you were alone, inside the luxurious dressing room of the third floor.

"Are you out of your mind?"

You saw her undress hurriedly and change into her regular clothes, leaving the little dress–the same one you were wearing—inside her backpack, then starting whipping out all her makeup to re-do it into something different, more relaxed.

"I kinda felt like it, yeah," you finally replied, after processing how you unashamedly danced in front of that man and all of his friends, being so evident that you wanted him—as if you didn't have a thing with Doyoung. As if you weren't the little dumb human fucking the man in charge and everyone knew about it. "Who was that man?" you insisted.

"Seo Youngho," she hissed and looked at you with narrowed eyes as if it weren't obvious. "He owns the casino. He owns like, ninety percent of the clubs left in Seoul, actually. Friends call him Johnny."

Your plan was to become one of them, then kill them all and keep the fortune. Survive the fate that seemed inevitable. Defeat the decay of the world and humanity through that eternal immortality, as the vampires had done through each of the crises in history.

You were shocked, your face losing all color and your legs almost giving out when you realized that all this time you were after the wrong man.

When Doyoung hired you, he made it seem like he was the real leader. And everything seemed to indicate that he was. Because you knew Yuta, you knew how the rest treated that vampire—but it wasn't half the respect they had for Doyoung. From the countless nights you'd spent with him and been woken by his phone at any hour of the morning, you knew that most of the responsibilities fell on him as well. The fact that it was the first time you were hearing about this Seo Youngho after almost half a year working at the casino only made the situation more unbelievable.

"And you danced for him," Soyeon continued, her expression between a mixture of shock and amusement. "Holy shit. You literally felt all of yourself in front of his eyes."

"I know," you recognized with difficulty, taking your head in your hands while you sat in the chair; soft and padded compared to the garbage where you sat every night, in the dressing room on floor -1 "Please stop reminding me, it was embarrassing."

"It wasn't embarrassing!" she contradicted, "It was fucking hot. You never do that shit when we dance at the club."

"Of course not!" You straightened your back to look at her and denied with a disgusted face. "I don't want to seduce any of the bodies that frequent the club. Those are disgusting."

"Right, you want to seduce vampires." She pointed one of her makeup brushes at you, and golden dust flew across the room. A complicit smile adorned her face. "You want to seduce handsome, sexy, and rich vampires. You'll be collecting them? I know you have one already."

There wasn't any malice in her voice, none that you could notice. She left it there and went back to stand in front of the mirror to apply a clear lip gloss that made her face even more attractive. She wasn't looking for an explicit answer. Even if she only wanted to mess with you, you still weren't convinced you could trust her—or anyone inside that casino.

And that's why you were scared. Scared to death that she or anyone else could tell Doyoung what happened earlier. Because yes, he wasn't the most powerful of them, yet he could still do whatever he wanted to you and no one would even go looking after you. That's how the dynamic worked. That's why it could be a vampire's world.

Youngho's words resonated inside your head as if he was whispering in your ear.

"Youngho said something when our number ended," you decided to confess. Maybe out of fear, to test your luck and try moving in this new direction, or to risk your plan along with your life. Soyeon turned around and raised his brows at you, expectant of your next words. "He said not to tell Doyoung."

A knock on the door exalted the both of you. Soyeon looked in the direction of the sound, then down at you, same spot on the couch. She smiled with her lips sealed together, the tips of her thumb and forefinger joined and moving from left to right over her smile. She winked at you after walking to open the dressing room's door.

A rather young man leaned out from the other side, a bottle of champagne in a cooler and two glasses in hand. His bright red eyes quickly scanned the room and settled on your figure. "Youngho wants you at his table," he said. "Both of you." And he moved his eyes to Soyeon, who quickly looked at you with an excited smile, then turned back to the boy. "He also sends this. Says to enjoy yourself and get there whenever you feel ready."

The young vampire left the champagne and the glasses in Soyeon's hands after she greeted him with a polite 'thank you', and closed the door.

"Very good," she turned to you, ready to open the bottle. "I also want to go hunting for some handsome, sexy, and rich vampires."

—

Sitting on the velvety cushions and sharing a table with the vampires you learned that everything you thought you knew about them was actually nothing. Only two of them were the most talkative: Donghyuck, the young vampire they sent with the champagne bottle to get you and your friend, and Taeyong, a slightly older-looking vampire you often saw with Yuta or Doyoung. While Donghyuck concentrated mostly in annoying his superiors and catching Soyeon's attention, Taeyong was surprisingly kind to you, trying to engage conversation about various topics.

"I was studying in Tokyo to be a designer when I met Yuta," Taeyong said while pouring himself another glass of blood. "We met at a fashion exhibition. I remember he was wearing a three piece suit that looked very expensive. He introduced himself, Nakamoto Yuta," Taeyong made his own impression of the Japanese vampire you knew from greeting him every day at the casino's entrance. And it was on point, his deep voice and accent rolling out of Taeyong's lips as if he had been observing the vampire for an eternity now. "He liked my work and said he wanted to support me financially. You can imagine what I thought it was about."

"Thought he was offering to be some kind of sugar daddy?" You asked him, taking a drag from a joint and passing it back to Taeyong.

Taeyong nodded his head. "I thought I had to sacrifice my body for it," he said, then paused for a moment to reflect on his words. "I mean, it's not like I didn't like him. He was actually really hot," he finished in a whisper meant for your human ears only.

The white haired vampire laughed it off, looking a bit nervous after such a confession. Yet Taeyong's laugh was adorable and contagious, much so that it distracted you from his red-stained lips and teeth every time you saw his mouth open to a big smile.

"But I was really, really wrong about him–"

"I could hear you talking shit about me all the way from the first floor."

That deep voice characteristic of Yuta cut off Taeyong's story. His eyes found the Japanese approaching the vampire table, behind your field of vision. However, his presence sent a shiver down your spine—the idea that any of them could be listening to what you were talking about when you least expected it horrified you, and it was enough to bring you back to reality.

You weren't there because they were nice and wanted you to know more about them, to become close. They must have been using you somehow, and you had to find out their true intentions as quickly as possible so that they couldn't take advantage of you, but you could take advantage of them.

"Yuta, you're so nosy!" Taeyong accused him, pointing his index finger at him and then crossing his arms, half indignant. "I was just telling my new friend the story of how I met you and the guys."

The Japanese vampire collapsed into the free space on Taeyong's other side. He sighed heavily and ran his hand through his long red hair before fixing his gaze on you: his brow furrowed, and his eyes full of judgment on your figure at the table. "Doyoung's human?" he asked, sounding slightly confused.

Taeyong opened his mouth to reply, yet it wasn't his voice that gave the answer to Yuta's question.

"She's my new favorite."

It was Youngho's.

He got up from his place and walked around the table until he was positioned next to your figure. He bent down until he could whisper in your ear—a proposition to come back with him, to his apartment, right in front of everyone but especially in front of Yuta, who was still judging you from afar with those furrowed brows.

You feared Yuta didn't trust you like the rest of the vampires seemed to do. You feared he could smell your true intentions, somehow get in your head and know you were doubting every move, every decision. You were ashamed because you knew he could definitely hear your conversation with your boss and his leader even if you were whispering to each other. And you were expecting he wouldn't tell Doyoung you actually said yes to Youngho, that you'd love to go back to his apartment that night.

The night at the vampires cave seemed to come to an end when you found yourself in the passenger seat of Youngho's luxury car. Since your friend Soyeon and Donghyuck left in his own car seconds before, it was only you and Taeyong in the private parking lot, waiting for his boyfriend, for Yuta, and Youngho to get in.

Contrary to your experience with Doyoung or even with Yuta, you never had the pleasure of getting to know Taeyong in depth, and that was because you didn't really have a chance to interact despite a formal greeting when you passed him in the casino. But you were left both alone and drunk on many substances in the car, and you found out you definitely enjoyed his presence way more when he's not wearing a serious and intimidating expression, and when his huge eyes turn bright and he laughs at everything you say.

Taeyong made you feel like, if you were given the chance, you could form a beautiful friendship.

"You don't seem like the other girls."

"What do you mean?" You asked Taeyong, who was sitting behind and across from the passenger seat, stretching your neck to the side and resting it on the headrest so you could face him more comfortably.

"Every girl Johnny has been with has only wanted one thing," Taeyong answered. He took a deep breath and there was again, the serious, almost scary expression on his face that you knew him from. You gulped dryly, hoping it could go unnoticed before he continued. "To take advantage of him and what he owns. And my friend is a good guy, he really just wants to love someone before the end of this fucking cursed world, so he just lets them in, you know?"

The sensation of being exposed drained your face from all its blood, probably making you look pale even under a thick layer of makeup. You felt embarrassed thinking Taeyong had read you and figured you out perfectly, so much that you couldn't look him in the eye anymore. Nonetheless, Taeyong kept telling you how good he felt around you while you tried to believe that he was being honest with you, and not actually trying to induce you in some sort of manipulative game.

When fighting against an organized group, you don't need to attack them nor defeat them all at once. It will take one of the parts—only one of them to be the weakest and the beginning of their own downfall.

You wanted to believe Taeyong was the weakness.

Beneath all the beauty and luxuries that Taeyong carried around, his hard expressions but also his sparkling eyes, and most importantly all the substances that were dancing inside his body that night, your drunken mind considered there could be a soft heart that spoke the truth. And you didn't want to get carried away with that sweet, biased best friend talk and forget about what you really planned to do tonight—which was for sure not to fall for any vampire.

So as much as he would let you get closer to them, you would let him believe your connection was genuine.

"I don’t want you to do the same to my friend." He smiled at you.

You were about to reply, to reassure him you're not like the rest of the girls, when he turned his head to the window at the sight of a tall and very handsome guy walking in your direction, followed by Yuta and Youngho. Taeyong's smile didn't fade. In fact, it only grew bigger when the tall boy opened the door, ready to climb into the back of the car.

"Please don't get scared if you see my boyfriend or any of my friends snorting a line in front of you," Taeyong turned to warn you.  "They're just weird like that."

"Tae, we don't do that in Johnny's car," the guy scolded him as the car was getting crowded. He held a bottle of vodka in his hand that he hurriedly wanted to finish before you got on the road and to Youngho's place. A long drink and he tossed it to Taeyong, who took a sip, squeezing his eyes shut at the burning feeling down his throat and then he handed it to you.

"It's fine with me, anyway," you inform Taeyong, accepting the bottle with a subtle smile. "It's what I usually see around the club…"

"Yeah, of course she's fine with it." The tall guy laughed and gave Taeyong a knowing look that you caught through the rear view mirror. "Stop putting on an act, Tae."

"Shut up, Jaehyun! You're the one acting. I just don't want to scare her away, I like her!"

"You won't like her more than you like me, though." The tall guy—who's name you learned was Jaehyun—got a serious expression sending Taeyong that warning, with only a small hint of mischief in his tone, very hard to catch if you didn't pay enough attention.

But Taeyong must have known him very well, because he laughed awkwardly at Jaehyun's comment which made him smile pretty lovingly, dimples showing and eyes going into the shape of two crescent moons in Taeyong's direction.

"You two make me want to throw up," Yuta said as he closed the door, squeezing Taeyong, Jaehyun, and himself up in the backseat and only confirming Jaehyun had to be the boyfriend Taeyong was talking about earlier.

"It's not us what makes you want to throw up, Yuta." You heard Jaehyun's voice while he spoke facing the windshield. "It's all the blood you mixed up and drank tonight."

The bottle of vodka was almost empty in your hands when Youngho arrived, occupying the last empty space behind the steering wheel. One second he was turning on the engines, and the other you were tasting the iron of a quick, chaste kiss he planted on your lips and in front of everyone inside the car. He bit your lip before breaking the contact, and your blood mixed with the remains of what Youngho had been sipping all night that managed to transfer to your mouth. Then he turned around to ask, "Are we all continuing this at mine?"

"Drop me near my place on your way," Yuta was the only one to speak, his tone colder than his looks and the lack of temperature around the vampires. "I don't want to be part of any of this."

03: chaos

Soyeon and Donghyuck didn't waste a second from the moment they walked through the front door of that luxurious apartment. Kissing violently and obstructing their way into what seemed like a room, they moved without separating from each other to breathe, attached as if they were feeding on each other. In contrast, Taeyong and Jaehyun walked in completely relaxed; Taeyong with his arm around Jaehyun's shoulders, and intertwining their fingers in a way that almost moved you. You remembered Taeyong's words in the parking lot and wondered if love could really exist inside such cursed creatures.

Youngho looked tired after collapsing into the big leather couch in the living room, bottle of whiskey in hand. He opened it and poured four glasses, which you took as an invitation to join him and circle around the small table, along with the other couple.

There was a golden tray covered in white dust that looked ready to be used at any time. The first was Taeyong. He set up the line, brought his face close to the tray, and you heard him inhale the cocaine. After that, it didn't take more than a split second for him to finish his glass of whiskey in one gulp. And even though you knew it took a lot to intoxicate a vampire or alter their senses with some mundane substance made for human consumption, you were surprised how Taeyong didn't even flinch; not a sign of a slight dizziness, nothing. Jaehyun asked Youngho for a refill for his glass, and when he finished it, he and Taeyong said a hearty goodbye before retiring to the second floor.

Youngho was a man of few words, you had learned in the hours you had spent with him that night—even though you had already lost track of time. Your old cell phone had been left behind in the dressing room at the club, long before you saw Doyoung, and long before you met Youngho and your whole plan was completely ruined. Looking outside couldn't give you any clues as to what time it was either, since the sun hadn't shone in weeks.

The sound of the incessant storm was barely drowned out by the music from a vinyl that Youngho had just put on. He returned to your side on the couch and, again, he didn't need to say much: the vampire handed you the tray of cocaine, you inhaled a line, and he finished the whiskey straight from the bottle. That tired expression he wore before was suddenly gone; as he watched you recover from the dizziness, it had been replaced by one that could be mistaken for euphoria, or maybe desire.

Your head felt extremely light, and your body was on the verge of losing control and letting yourself be carried away by the melody playing in the common area of that huge, cold, and dark apartment.

As if Youngho had been reading your thoughts, he asked:

"Dance for me."

His throat, probably irritated by all the alcohol consumed, made his voice reach your ears deep and attractive, awakening chills throughout all your skin. And you obeyed, of course—it was your job, and he was your actual boss. On top of all that, there was the possibility of desperately wanting to dance for Youngho once again.

Youngho pushed the small wooden table away, moving it with his leather boot on it without a care, making room for you to dance right in front of where he was sitting. Arms and legs outstretched as if he were in paradise, Youngho made you feel that if looks could kill you would probably already be dead—eaten alive, drained from all your blood. And in some twisted way, you couldn't help but enjoying it: the feeling that even though they could have whoever they wanted, there were two the vampires who continued to choose you over the others—who had you as the object of their desires. Doyoung did it regularly. And you had to find a way to make Youngho want to do it too without getting killed.

You could hear the sound of the fire burning the paper that wraps the tobacco, and the room quickly filled with its white smoke coming out of Youngho's lungs. The music that was making you dance wasn't particularly sensual—the melody and the sounds made the situation of being in the vampire's house even more macabre. Still, you tried your best to impress Youngho, who was huffing and running his hand through his hair restlessly, as he watched you with the same eyes that had mesmerized you in the casino. They looked brown, normal one second, and bloodshot red the next. You thought it was a consequence of your drunken state that it altered your perception of things, or of the desire that you felt existed between you.

Your outfit that night left nothing to the imagination. You were still wearing your performing clothes—a see-through dress and the set of faux-leather underwear that you assumed had been tempting the vampire in front of you all night. He wasn't leaving much to the imagination either. The tent on his dressing pants were giving you enough confidence to take it a step further.

You turned around, trying to follow the beat of the music. The hem of your dress rolled up the curve of your ass when you squatted down in front of him. You heard him groan over the music, and the sound of ruffling against the black leather couch. It made you smile when you turned your head to the side and saw him out of the corner of your eye, struggling a little with his hard-on. So you got your knees and the side of your head to touch the cold, white marbled floor, while maintaining that eye contact that was so mesmerizing to you. You opened your knees and broke your back to have your ass moving up and down in front of Youngho a couple of times, then straightened your back to finally get rid of the thin and shiny tulle that caressed your skin.

It was when Youngho lost it, grabbing you by the arm and turning your body around to sit you on his lap. "Keep dancing," his voice came out raspy and desperate.

The tension, the strange beat of the music and all the smoke accumulated in the room squeezed your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe, and if something didn't happen in the next few seconds you felt like your heart might explode. Even when you tried to remind yourself to not fully give in to him and lose control, you couldn't really concentrate on what you were actually there for. You felt like you had accepted leaving with Youngho for a different reason, far, very far away from fucking him. Nonetheless, that seemed like the only thing you could really think of at that moment.

A whine came out from your mouth when you felt his hands touching you for the first time and pushing you even closer to him. And when he squeezed your ass to place your clothed sex right above his bulge you gasped, your lungs purified with clean air, as if something had been restricting them all this time.

It was that feeling again—a downforce pulling your body down, feeling as if you were descending from the sky at miles per hour, and your brain processing reality way too fast for your drunken state. An incessant throbbing between your legs, extremely turned on by the vampire under you, and you having no clue of how you actually ended up in that position.

Because yes, of course you remember what happened that night. You remember going to talk to them at their table, then getting into one of their cars and talking with Taeyong, accepting the drugs from Youngho and wanting to dance for him… But you didn't work like this. You've never worked like this. Every move and interaction had to be absolutely thought out and premeditated and this—it just felt totally wild, like you were out of it when you were in front of Youngho. Just the way you felt when you saw him at the vampires cave, back at the casino.

Despite looking the most young and fresh above the majority of them, given his position amongst the vampires at the club, you assumed Youngho was probably one of the oldest, if not the oldest of them all. You wondered if he was really that powerful; there was the possibility that he was messing with your head, you'd read older vampires were able to do so even to humans.

You thought he was absolutely insane when you felt the cold air hit your nipples and then his warm mouth attached to them. He let you grind on top of him, while you tried to contain your moans and to concentrate on what you actually had to do, that was getting out of there before you were food for vampires.

Your plan was screwed. Youngho being the leader of them changed everything you had been working on for months, even before you got your job at the strip club. You thought you had him, but there was a high chance that he was just using you to benefit from you somehow. Either it was getting on Doyoung's nerves, feeding from you, or just to get his dick wet—this wasn't about you. You needed to make it about you.

You needed to have control over the situation again. Change the plan and keep moving as soon as possible, without being suspicious. But Doyoung was already too involved and, fuck—he wasn't the vampire you had to get with, and you knew he was already kind of attached. You could said he had feelings, you knew that was possible for immature vampires, so you had to deal with that too and–

"Care to explain what this is for?"

You felt the blade pressing into the skin of your neck, threatening to cut just above your jugular if you made even the slightest movement. Youngho shook your head and tightened his grip on the nape of your neck even more, the force he exerted there beginning to ache and the sharpness of the weapon demanding a response from you more than the fear and adrenaline you knew were giving you away, no matter how hard you tried to stay calm.

You closed your eyes and silently cursed Ten for giving you the stupid razor, and yourself for accepting it even when you knew a little blade would be a waste of time when it came to vampires. You cursed yourself for being so careless after months working to get to this point—not in the way you really wanted, though.

"Five seconds to explain yourself before I kill you," he talked from under you once again.

Your eyes met his, no longer changing from brown to red but fully bloodshot now, and looking more scary than ever. You gulped one time and decided to speak—it's not like you had another choice anyway.

"It's because I work at the club," you managed to get your voice out. "I'm not sure if you know, but most of the men there are nasty." The words came out as fast as you could, but the anger on his face was telling you he wasn't having any of your bullshit. You concluded your lie struggling to maintain eye contact. "Wouldn't be the first time someone has to defend themselves from them."

Youngho loosened his grip on the back of your head and lowered the razor from your neck, only to caress your body with its sharp tip, tickling your skin as he ran it across your chest, the curve of your breasts, and your abdomen.

"Nobody dares to enter my house with weapons, you know that?" He applied more force to the blade against your skin. "Who the fuck you think you are?"

"It wasn't to hurt you," you dared to say, chest breathing heavy under the movement of the blade. "I swear I'd never think of using it on anyone. It's just to scare the guys from the club away if things get ugly."

The blade stopped on the flesh above your left clavicle, right besides where a scar was placed. Doyoung wasn't used to feeding on you, saying he didn't like it and that it wasn't what your relationship was about. But sometimes you would let him, when the moment would get too intense and you noticed that he was fighting too hard to control his tendencies. He was happy getting drunk on your blood from time to time, and he rewarded you with amazing sex and aftercare. All that was left was a little scar in that spot. Youngho laughed looking at it, and you felt the sting of the edge cutting the skin, then his tongue licking the blood that emanated from the superficial cut.

He hummed satisfied after getting a taste from you, and his fangs rubbled the zone before he spoke.

"I don't believe shit you're saying, my darling."

Even though you had imagined a moment like this before, with the most important vampire of all making you his in every way, you prepared yourself for the worst outcome. There was no chance you were getting out of there the way you wanted it.

Yet the surprise of a door being opened violently interrupted Youngho, who was about to open your chest in two, and his gaze focused on a scene behind you. His face deformed rapidly, and his expressions were no longer covered with desire and hunger but full of fury and anger. Even though you had no idea what was going on at your back, you were internally grateful that you weren't the cause of the sudden outburst of the vampire.

"Johnny, I think I messed up."

Donghyuck's voice managed to get to your ears when Youngho got you off his lap and shoved you to the other side of the couch. He got up in a rage, and you took care of calming your breathing in silence before he could remember that he was literally about to kill you. You heard Youngho start to mutter to Donghyuck, but you were too busy checking the small cut on your skin that kept bleeding, staining your fingertips every time you touched it.

"The fuck have you done?!" You heard the older vampire scream this time, and when you looked up he was pushing a Donghyuck completely covered in red back, causing the boy to hit the wall and become unbalanced. "You know we don't do this here, it's strictly forbidden."

Donghyuck stood outside the room he locked himself up earlier. Barefoot, only wearing a pair of briefs and the blood dripping from his mouth, painting his neck and chest a deep red. He was trying to explain something to Youngho, yet your mind couldn't concentrate on anything different than the scene inside of the bedroom.

Soyeon's body was on the bed. Her neck hanging off the edge with her eyes open, a terrified look penetrating right into yours. She must have been full of fear, is what you thought as you saw the fresh blood covering her neck and the champagne-colored bed sheets—now stained in red. An open wound on its left side that had stopped bleeding. Donghyuck must have sucked her dry.

"I damn Mia for turning you, Donghyuck, I really do. You're nothing more than a pain in the ass," Youngho said, and you watched him start to dial a phone number from your place on the couch.

Donghyuck seemed like he didn't care much as he started heading towards where you were sitting. You tried to move back even further in place by drawing your legs to your chest, clearly scared of what he might do to you. This was not the way you thought you'd die. But he simply stopped at the small wooden table and took out a cigarette.

"Relax, I'm not going to do anything to you," his mouth barely opened to speak, as he tried to hold the cigarette between his lips. He lit it up, inhaled all the tobacco smoke, then let it out to mix with the heavy, tense atmosphere. His lips left the filter painted with your co-worker's blood. "Yet." He finished talking with a macabre smile, and even dared to wink at you.

He quickly scanned you up and down, suddenly reminding you of the situation you were in with Youngho before he showed up and making you feel utterly exposed, so you crossed your arms over your chest in the best attempt to shield yourself from the hungry eyes of the young vampire.

"You're not doing shit more than taking care of this mess," Youngho spoke to Donghyuck as approached the scene. "I called Mia, you'll do it together. And be fucking reasonable while doing it. I don't want to see her on the news tomorrow because she was found laying in an alley."

"And what do we do about her?" Donghyuck asked while pointing at you with the cigarette. "Can't you make her forget? 'Cause I doubt you really wanna deal with another dead body."

Youngho stared at your body for a few seconds, thinking. Donghyuck waited for an answer, shifting his gaze from his boss to you, and you could feel Soyeon's eyes, dead but full of fear on you all the way from inside the bedroom. The smell of blood emanating from there and from Donghyuck's dripping mouth was beginning to be nauseating and the music playing from the vinyl threatened to drive you crazy.

"She doesn't need to forget," he finally said. Then he pulled your blade out of the back pocket of his pants and threw it forward, the little weapon landing on the couch right next to you. "You don't fuck with vampires. Consider this a lesson."

04: through the storm

Check the window. Watch the raindrops fall. Take your hand out and feel the water in your skin. Wipe the humidity with your clothes. Check the time—it's been twenty-six hours and thirteen minutes since you left Youngho's house; twenty-five hours and two minutes since you left Kun's apartment with your hands stained with blood. And try not to lose your mind. Check the time only one more time just to make sure you're not disconnecting from reality.

Not even a minute had passed since the last time you unlocked your phone to do that.

The wind from the storm that had been going on for days suddenly became more violent, whipping your face and forcing you to close the windows of the house, leaving you in the dark after the candles have gone out. The dim firelight between your trembling hands lighting cigarette after cigarette was the only tangible evidence of your emotions at that moment. The room quickly filled with smoke as the wax burned back onto the table, and that poor light allowed you to summarize what you were doing.

Your eyes scanned the thick paper, reading the information that had been kept from you over and over again. National Intelligence Service, printed in blue ink, and a 'classified' red stamp just below it.

Serial 090295-127. Name: Seo Youngho - Alias "Johnny".

A voice resonated inside your head, almost torturing you, and you feared closing your eyes in case you'd be reminded of the events of the past hours.

"Did you really think you'd be able to do this alone? Are you that naive?"

Address: Unknown. Jurisdiction: Seoul. Additional info/scars/tattoos/weapons/etc.: tattoos of a barbed wire on his chest; hummingbird, beast, and wild leaves on his left shoulder (colored), spider on his right pectoral, flower arrangement in his right hand, letters on his fingers. Master hand-to-hand combatant. Masters various supernatural powers (includes supernatural strength, speed, super bionic hearing and vision, telekinesis, mind control.)

Two checked boxes under that information:

Suspect. Previously arrested.

The rage would make you tremble and break a cold sweat that dropped down the sides of your body. You closed the blue folder violently and you piled it on top of the rest of the documents carelessly. Yuta's, Taeyong's, Jaehyun's, Doyoung's—all of them—and tossed them across the room to somehow deal with the irritation. The papers that keep track of the vampire organization's crimes up to a year ago, before Qian Kun was fired for not agreeing to stop investigating them, flew through the air and landed next to the pile of clothes you took off just a couple of hours ago. The candlelight hardly reached that area of the house. Still, it was enough to illuminate the red stains on your white fur coat, and remind you of the scene you left behind at the retired cop's house.

You can't really say that it was premeditated, although you can't really say that you simply acted out of a violent impulse, or a nervous one, or whatever. You wanted to finish off the bastard, just not under those circumstances. After finding out that he had only been lying to you and using you to catch the vampires first, and that by hiding information as important as who their true leader is, he ruined the whole damn plan you were carrying out. You thought the bastard deserved nothing more than to die right away.

Kun's apartment, in a crumbling building just a couple of streets from the casino, had become an exact replica of the Seoul police investigation office after he was kicked out. Target pictures pasted on the walls, phone numbers, bank account aliases, contacts from all around the world, photos from outside and inside the casino—you name it. The man studied the vampires who ruled the casino day and night.

When Kun arrived in Korea from China, he was a newly recruited police officer hungry for justice in a dirty, corrupt, and dying world. He had followed the vampires who had their illegal businesses in China and, frustrated by all the obstacles the authorities put to judge them, he decided to go in search of the root of the problem. Kim Doyoung, was what he told you the night you met him in the old bar where you worked and where Kun often went to drown his sorrows.

Kim Doyoung was supposedly the man in charge of the biggest chain of clubs and casinos in cities like New York, Los Angeles, Beijing, Tokyo and, of course, Seoul. Kim Doyoung, a rich, powerful, attractive, timeless man. A vampire. Someone who would survive the supposed last of humanity's crises, filling his pockets exponentially and living peacefully for all eternity. Absolutely everything you were looking for. 

You were going to kill Kun after you had become what you wanted and rid yourself of the vampires, but that evening he left you no choice.

The morning after the night you met Youngho and your life suddenly got upside down, you went to Kun's apartment for explanations.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to keep the memory from creeping into your mind.

"I didn't lie to you," he had the nerve to say. "I just kept information from you, for your own safety."

"Bullshit!" you almost spit in his face. All the anger generated by the situation you found yourself in with Youngho, Soyeon's unnecessary death, and Doyoung's strange attitudes, you were unloading on the police officer. If your plan took a one hundred and eighty degrees turn it was his fault, and you were going to let him know. "If you cared about my safety you would've told me the truth from the start. And I would've been dealing with the right vampire from the beginning. Wouldn't have gotten my mind fucked, maybe my co-worker wouldn't be fucking dead!"

"You could never have dealt with the situation on your own."

"I would have planned it differently! I thought I had Doyoung eating from the palm of my hand."

"You have Doyoung eating from your hands, though," he shot back, maintaining an incredibly calm composure even though you had been yelling at him for about ten minutes.

"But he's not the right guy, for fuck's sake!"

Kun left the room leaving you shaken, your chest rising and falling rapidly, and your throat closing more and more in response to all your accumulated anger. After a couple of seconds he returned with a file box in his hands and begun to search inside it, until he pulled out a blue folder and opened it with the intention of reading its contents to you.

"Okay, listen. This is how we're going to proceed."

"Hell no. I'm not doing this with you anymore." Your face contorted in disgust as you looked at him, and you pointed an accusing finger at him to speak, "You think I can trust you after you lied like this to me?"

"Did you really think you'd be able to do this alone?" Kun asked once more, but this time with a much more incredulous tone, his eyes narrowed and a nasty smirk on his lips. "Are you that naive? Look at you."

He motioned to you with his head and you followed his gaze all the way down to your own self. You were still wearing your outfit of the previous night—your performance clothes, only covered by a fur coat you managed to take before leaving the casino that barely reached your thighs. You hadn't had the energy to shower nor change clothes since you came back from Youngho's apartment, so your makeup from the previous night was trying to survive the water from the bathroom sink and the rain, almost completely smudged off your face now. To be quite honest, you were a disaster.

"You're nothing more than a whore who makes men horny for fucking money, and you're going to die as that, nothing else," he stated disgustingly. "There's no chance you can fool Youngho and run away with his money. It's not happening. Be fucking realistic."

You felt your eyes burn and fill with tears. A lump settled in your throat, and you couldn't warn him at all. When Kun turned around and had his back to you, you just saw the perfect opportunity to vent all your pent up rage.

The knife you were hiding in your boots felt incredibly heavy in your right hand. Kun's hair was soft to the touch as you took hold of him to angle his neck to the edge of the blade. A clean cut from left to right was all it took for your skin to feel the heat of his blood, and the floor began to turn red—a dark and stinking red, like the one you often see Doyoung drink from his fine glass bottles.

You let out a cry of exhaustion watching the body fall limp to the wooden floor and hearing the retired officer struggle to maintain his life.

"¡Fuuuuuck! ¡Fuck, fuck, fucking shit!"

The pool of blood didn't manage to reach the sole of your shoes, as you walked away and busied yourself with taking the file box that Kun had just revealed to you, along with some other photographs and bank account numbers. You didn't take all the items that were hanging on his walls, because whoever entered, found his lifeless dead body, and then saw how he had been following the vampires for years, would only think that the crime was their own doing—that they discovered him and wanted him out of the way. Nobody would ever suspect you, because you always made sure there were no traces left of your relationship with Kun that could incriminate you. There was a high chance that the case wouldn't even get investigated, as no one dared to touch the vampire organization and Kun didn't have family in Seoul that could worry about him, anyway.

The old plan to get to the vampires was completely screwed, so you needed to think about a new one as soon as possible.

You opened your eyes and you found yourself sitting at home again, by candlelight, this time with a joint in your hands. You turned it on, took a puff, checked the time through the broken screen of your phone. Only a minute had passed since you last did the same, but in your head it felt like an hour. 

Nothing coherent would emerge under that state of mind, so finally, after approximately more than thirty-five hours awake, you went to sleep trying to convince yourself that you were not losing your sanity.

05: every splendid thing gathered as if to tempt me

You weren't asked to go to the vampire's cave again after what happened with Soyeon. When you went back to work at the club alone though, Ten was the first to suspect something had happened either when you were there or after. He asked if you knew the reason why she was absent, but you weren't gonna tell him the truth–you couldn't imagine what would happen if your coworkers found out their bosses didn't mind killing his employees only because they couldn't control their thirst for human blood. You were afraid that, if you said a word, they'd find out and get you killed too.

Your answer did not convince Ten at all, who questioned you, crossing his arms and frowning.

"You think she's sick?"

You just shrugged, looking at him through the reflection in the mirror of the club's dressing room.

"It's been a week since she's absent," he remarked. "You think she's gonna miss a week of work, considering how shitty the pay is, just because she's sick? She doesn't have any more income."

You swallowed dryly and couldn't stand his gaze any longer. If Ten noticed how guilt took over your senses, he chose not to say anything about it. Only his footsteps could be heard, the sole of his white platforms sinking into the wood as he walked away from you to collapse on the old leather couch.

Your phone vibrated and the screen turned on, showing a text indicating to be at the private parking lot in five minutes. Doyoung explained he had a busy week and that he couldn't make much time to contact you, but that he admired you from his office every night that you were dancing at the club's stage, and it made him miss you even more. He wanted to compensate you for all the time you couldn't be together.

"Doyoung might know something," you finally tried to reassure Ten, even though you knew Doyoung wouldn't have a clue . "I could ask him about her."

His long, thin legs crossed while he lit a cigarette up and drank whiskey as if it were water. "Please do," he said, exhaling a large cloud of smoke. "I'm worried sick about her."

—

You thought it would be easier to deal with the situation, however the image of Soyeon dead in Youngho's bed haunted you day and night, just like the tail of your lies. The sound of the flush filled the bathroom right after the conversation with Ten made your stomach turn. You opened the sink, rinsed your mouth, touched up the red color of your lipstick and bit into a mint.

Five minutes later, you found Doyoung waiting for you at the side of his white sports car. He was busy on his phone, a frown on his brows as he discussed with someone in a low tone you couldn't catch anything of what he was saying. Even though he looked frustrated, his eyes relaxed as soon as he saw you approaching his spot. He did that characteristic gesture of him, extending his arm to you to get you closer, and you intertwined your fingers as he ended his call on the phone.

"I'll have an answer tonight, Johnny."

Your stomach flipped for the second time that day as soon as you heard the name leave Doyoung's lips. He frowned once again, maybe sensing a change in your mood, but only smiled at you and caressed the back of your palm with his thumb. You thought Doyoung might not have known what happened, but somehow he could've been trying to comfort you.

"Alright, see you tomorrow." Doyoung ended the call.

He cupped your face with his hands locking eyes with you. He had a tender look, and it made you wonder if Doyoung might see it through you—all the sleepless hours, the crying, the fear, the stains of blood, the lies. Yet he only pushed your head closer to his, locking your mouths with a soft kiss. His lips were cold to the touch, but after what felt like the most chaotic and stressful days of your entire life, you found some kind of comfort in them. His gentle manners disconnected you from reality, so you stuck to that kiss like your life depended on it, deepening it more and more as time passed.

You tugged Doyoung closer, his perfectly white shirt wrinkling in your fists while you felt his body adapt perfectly to yours and his expensive cologne filled your senses. It reminded you of the reason why you started seeing Doyoung in the first place—you liked him. You liked his body, you liked his face and the way it seemed like he only had eyes for you. You loved how he smelled, how he always kissed your cheeks, how his silk shirts felt on your skin after he got you naked. Then you got used to the rides on his expensive cars, the delicious meals and the comfort of the king sized beds he would fuck you over everytime you were together.

Maybe you liked all that a little too much, got ambitious, wanted it all only for you. And you wanted it forever.

He broke the kiss and laughed when he saw you chasing his lips for more. His hands moved up to hug your waist and you opened your eyes to find his slightly bloodshot red, his irises slowly going back to its normal yellowish as you both struggled with your breath.

A lopsided smile was plastered on his face.

"Let's go home."

And maybe, only this last time, you didn't want to think of following plans, of keeping secrets and fearing betrayals. Maybe you wanted to have a moment with Doyoung, only a moment, like it was when it all started.

After weeks of torrential rains, all that was left in Seoul was empty streets under an eternal starry night. The wind that entered through the apartment’s open windows made the black curtains dance around a king-sized bed where Doyoung laid naked. Through the gold-ornamented mirror he observed you fix your hair, then put your panties on and add some more lipstick after it transferred all to your lover’s skin.

Against popular belief, you were able to catch his silhouette through the reflection coming close to you. His body was illuminated by the moonlight only, yet it was enough to admire all the muscle and the ink that adorned his body. It was just as they described it on the documents you got from Kun’s house, each tattoo placed in the exact place, and it made you wonder if those previous investigators had gotten the information the same way. How many lovers could Doyoung and the rest of the vampires possibly have had that were not their lovers, but some desperate humans trying to make something out of this miserable world? How many other girls have touched Doyoung’s velvety skin under the moonlight, over those same sheets, and how many more would if you’re not the last one?

His touch was cold over your shoulders, even when he placed his soft lips on your naked skin it felt terribly cold. From behind you, his right hand traveled past your navel until it reached the only trace of fabric you were wearing. The other hand over your neck applied the right amount of pressure to get your entire body pressed to his, and he whispered in your ear.

“There’s something you need to understand very clearly, my dear.”

The coldness reached your insides. Doyoung started rubbing on your sex very gently, enough for you to pay attention to what he was saying.

“Even if you start dancing occasionally for other vampires at the cave, you’re my human.”

He added a finger as he finished the sentence, making you throw your head back over his shoulder.

“You can’t be with anyone else.” When he sensed you were ready, a second finger came in alongside a tight grip on your neck. “Understood?”

But a moan got caught in your throat. You had to open your eyes to check your reflection in the mirror because you couldn’t believe what your ears heard.

That wasn’t Doyoung’s voice asking the question, nor was it his figure behind you and with his hand between your pussy.

It was Johnny’s.

The older vampire let go of the grip on your neck before putting your panties down in one go. The contact on your skin no longer felt cold, but it was incredibly hot, almost burning the places he was grabbing you from. With both hands behind your back locked between his, he started fucking you. You looked for Doyoung around the room, wondering where had he gone and if he was okay with it. It was hard to understand how one second he was telling you you’re his, and the other he was letting his superior have his way with you.

“What are you doing?!” You asked the vampire behind you, while he was restlessly going in and out of you and you were fighting not to scream his name.

“This is lesson number two,” Johnny said between breaths. “You can’t play both ends.”

It’s hard to explain what truly happened that night, because you couldn’t decipher it yourself.

When you started to fight the pleasure, he seemed to have no other option than to let you go. After quickly putting all your clothes on and apparently coming down from the high, you ran out of Doyoung’s room, full of embarrassment and in fear of encountering him and got him questioning your state.

But you couldn’t avoid him.

His hand on your forearm stopped you from getting through the front door.

“What happened?” He asked a little out of breath, only wearing a pair of briefs and a confused expression.

“Where is he?”

“Where’s who?” Doyoung returned the question.

“Sorry, I'm sorry,” you apologized as you fought to get rid of his grip, rotating your gaze wildly between his body and the bedroom door, hoping that Johnny would simply disappear from there. “I just need to go.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, no.”

“Did you not like it?”

And what were you supposed to say? You couldn’t quite wrap your head around the idea of Doyoung letting Johnny fuck you. In his own house, right after himself. It just wasn’t part of Doyoung’s nature, you knew that. So, to say you were extremely confused once again, was an understatement. Doyoung was still looking at you expecting an answer.

The problem was, you liked what Johnny did to you a little too much.

“Are you scared of me?” Doyoung asked after not getting a word from you. “Is this because of Soyeon?”

“No.” You furrowed your brows. Doyoung knew something and was clearly keeping it from you. But how much did he know was the real problem; he better not have an idea you were with Johnny the night she died, or it would be all screwed. Doyoung simply couldn’t know you saw his boss, or you would lose your job and contact with the casino, completely. That’s why you got a little defensive and started questioning him, even when you already got all the answers. “What does she have to do with this?”

“Uhm, no, it doesn't have to do anything–”

“What do you know, Doyoung?” You demanded with a firmer tone. He remained silent, perhaps debating whether to confess or not. So you feigned a little more concern.

“She’s missing! Don’t act all dumb Doyoung, I know something happened to her!”

“One of the vampires of the cave, Donghyuck,” he finally started. “Well, he can’t control his impulses too well.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“He’s young! Like, very recently turned and… Apparently he impulsively sucked all the blood out of her–”

But it was impossible for him to finish the sentence because you started gagging. Not because of what he was saying, but because of the mental image you had of Soyeon’s dead body, and Donghyuck all covered in her blood in front of you. You even remember the nauseous smell, and your eyes filled up with tears because of the disgust.

“I know she was your friend. I’m sorry for not telling you, I just didn’t want to scare you.” His voice came out desperate as his touch sought to comfort you, through caresses on your arms and your cheeks. “I know I get possesive sometimes telling you you’re just mine, but it’s because I’m afraid you might get involved with them and end up like that.”

“I already got involved with you. What makes you different?” You countered a little defensively, dodging his hands.

Doyoung had always been very respectful of your boundaries and your emotions, so you weren't surprised when he brought his hands to his chest, guarding himself against the desire to come into contact with you after you avoided it. His murmur still echoed in that huge, dark living room of his apartment.

“That I… I really care for you. You’re more than a good fuck to me. You know that, right?”

The empty look of a defeated body was all you gave back to him, as if you no longer had the strength to deal with the situation.

He approached you very slowly, still in a state of alert that you could feel. “I care for you.” He repeated. “A lot.”

“You vampires can’t develop feelings and shit,” you finally spoke. “Don’t try to lie to me.”

The vampire shrugged with his head down, an attitude you have never witnessed before. That level of vulnerability he was showing was completely new; deeper than the sex, even deeper than sharing your blood with him.

“I can,” he confessed, looking back into your eyes. “I’m not that old, you know? To completely dissociate myself from my feelings.”

While you remained silent, you let him close the space between the two of you once again. Doyoung’s fingertips were soft caressing your cheeks, yet his lips felt even softer. He wore yellow clear eyes full of worry, far from those arrogant or lustful looks he gave you most of the time. On his naked chest, right above where his heart should’ve been beating, a perfect shape of your lips in the color of red.

The gears were turning inside your head trying to think of how to use this to your advantage and put the plan into motion with Johnny.

“I need some time alone to process all this.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Doyoung was quick to reassure you. “Whatever you need, you know I’m just one call away.”

You nodded your head yes and were out of the vampire’s place.

Once on the street, you searched your small bag for the cigarettes you had taken from Doyoung's nightstand and lit one. In a reflex act, you looked up in the direction of his balcony, where its black curtains still fluttered due to the unusual wind and blended with the darkness of the night in a decaying Seoul. Suddenly, the windows closed. You exhaled the smoke from your cigarette smiling.

"Stupid vampires."

And you stopped the bus that would take you back to the Oasis.

06: tell me how you want to keep me for eternity

Multiple murmurs from came to your ears as you opened the doors to the red room. The waitresses opened bottles of champagne and filled the mortals’ glasses as the vampires sucked on their blood cocktails. There was some jazz playing in the back while you were opening your way to that particular table that caught your attention so much on the first day you were at the vampire’s cave.

That night, however, you noticed there were a few missing faces as you performed on the stage.

When you encountered Yuta at the casino’s main entrance and he told you you were back at the third floor, of course you were expecting to dance for Johnny. Yet he was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t even feel his presence like you did the first time you were there, and you thought it was strange. Why would he call you to dance if he wasn’t going to be watching? And why would you bother dancing if you were going to do it for other people?

The call of your name startled you, making you realize you had already walked by the vampire’s designated table during your train of thought. Taeyong's friendly tone made it quite difficult to hide the reality that you weren't interested in stopping at the table unless Johnny was there.

“Come have a drink with us.” 

You nodded your head politely and sat down at the rounded table. Taeyong and his boyfriend were attached at the hips as in every situation you had shared with them. On their side, a rather young looking man with a perfectly defined nose and plump lips with an unnatural red. The remains on his glass made you think you couldn't make up his age based on his looks because he was also drinking from the blood cocktail. Between him and Yuta, some girls you had never seen before. Lastly, Donghyuck was sitting on your side with a cocky smile that you started to think was characteristic of him.

“You and the dancers were amazing tonight,” Taeyong said as he offered you a bubbly glass that you drowned in one go.

“It was a new show,” you responded with a smile. “A different one we haven’t presented in the club, so we didn’t have much rehearsal before this.”

“You work at the club?” One of the girls asked, arching a brow and getting a laugh out of her friend.

You confirmed with a nod of your head and a slightly embarrassed smile, yet the rage was already bubbling up inside you. She only added, “Must be hard dealing with all the shit that goes down there.”

That made both of them laugh and you scoffed in response.

“Why don’t you go down there and see if you can deal with it,” your face frowned as you challenged them with the same impudence. “I’m sure you won’t act all tough once you’re outside your little privileged bubble.”

Yuta was the only one that dared to show a reaction to your response. He laughed and poured another glass of champagne before handing it to you as some kind of reward. “You won’t want to mess with this one, girls,” the japanese said and he got up in his place, not looking them in the eyes even once but rather concentrated in the rest of the cave, as if looking for someone.

“Yeah, I can see,” the girl that remained silent and only laughing until then, spoke. “You can’t hide where you come from. It always shows.”

And with that they left the table, leaving you alone with the vampires.

“I think you’re one of our best dancers,” Jaehyun said. “But not the best.”

As the sensual tone of an electric guitar came to your senses, he stood up and asked his boyfriend for his hand. “Would the best dancer in the building give me the honour of sharing this piece?”

Taeyong laughed out of nervousness, asking ‘what?’ as he laced his fingers between his lover’s. But his expression turned quickly as he recognized the song. “Wait, is this our song?” He asked getting up.

“I paid the musicians to play it for us.”

Jaehyun dragged his partner to the center of the dance floor, attracting everyone's attention except for one person. It seemed like Yuta had finally found what he was looking for, and you saw him smile for what you think was the first time in your life. A genuine smile formed on his lips and forced him to leave the table in search of an infernal woman who was entering the cave. He kissed her knuckles almost hidden by a huge fur coat, and the tip of her stilettos echoed across the floor as they both left through the red curtains she had just entered.

A few seconds passed by with Jaehyun and Taeyong swinging to the music, before you were startled by the last person setting at the table with you.

“Just you and me, huh?” Donghyuck asked and you hummed. “Should we go dance too?”

“No, thanks.”

“What?” He laughed, sounding like he was a little shocked by the quick denial. “I thought you enjoyed dancing for the vampires a little too much,” he added with a disgusting tone eyeing you up and down.

His wandering looks you caught from the corner of your eye obliged you to cover up a little, uncomfortable. But it wasn't enough for Donghyuck to catch the signal, or maybe he decided he couldn't care less, hence the young vampire moved his right hand to your knee and started squeezing there, feeling your skin through the red stockings you were wearing.

“Red’s my favorite colour,” he whispered getting closer to your side.

Your trembly hands tried to pour another glass of champagne but failed once you noticed the bottle was empty. Beyond Donghyuck’s spot on the table there was a bottle of whiskey, so you tried to reach for it but couldn’t when you felt his hand go further up your knee.

You stopped him right there and looked him in his blood-shot eyes. A wicked smile took over his features and he licked his lips after squeezing your thight once more. “What?” He asked after your silence.

From his being emanated a mix of whiskey and that nauseating smell that reminded you of the night Donghyuck had appeared before you covered in blood, and of the floor of Kun's apartment covered in the same red.

“You scared of me?” Donghyuck whispers once again. “Scared you might end up like that pretty friend of yours?”

You held your breath, trying to endure the nausea that the young man caused you. You knew he meant you were scared of ending up dead.

“Trying to be fucked by you?” A laugh made your entire body shake. “Not even in your wildest dreams,” you finished to get his hand off your skin and up from the table.

As the loverboys still danced slowly at the center of the floor and in front of the musicians, you fixed your clothes and went a little over him to finally reach for the bottle of Black Label.

“I need to go see your boss.”

—

“Ten,” you called his name as soon as you heard the boy on the other side of the phone.

Since Soyeon wasn’t around anymore, you decided you had to trust someone else. You had been working at the casino for a few months only, so it was needed to keep in contact with someone who knew the interns and could give you quick information.

Ten showed himself trustworthy since the very first moment you met. He was the nicest coworker you had too, along with Soyeon. During your first rehearsal at the club it was only him and you; he spent hours teaching you all the choreographies and showing you around so you wouldn’t feel so lost on your first day of shows. Later that same day, after he drowned glass of whiskey after glass of whiskey, the confessions came to you while you two sat on the rusty couch of the changing room.

“I fell for them too,” he said, head thrown back on the couch, getting his eyes lost on the dirt of the ceiling.

You rolled the tobacco between your fingers with some difficulty and passed it to Ten. “How did that happen?”

“Honestly,” the boy lit the tobacco up and it struggled to burn due to your poor arming skills, but he didn’t seem to mind. “They’re intriguing, I don’t know. And they’re handsome and hot despite all that coldness they carry around. But there was this particularly nice vampire that came to the club one night,” he confessed while pouring another two glasses of liquor and passing one to you. “That’s unusual. You’ll never see them around here, not even Doyoung, he’s always observing but only up from his office.

But this one was there. He came to see the show and then I encountered him in the bathroom.”

“In the bathroom?” 

“He was doing coke,” Ten laughed in disbelief. “But he was so nice,” a sigh came out of him remembering the moment. “The most defined jaw I’ve seen in my life, nose and lips carved by the Gods, a soft pastel pink hair that reminded me of how the beautiful afternoon sky looked before all this world went to shit.”

That made you wonder. Ten looked ratherly young, maybe around your age or just a couple of years older, yet you had no memories of how the initial world was. You had only lived during the beginning of the end. “How long have you been around here, Ten?”

“Many years,” he said, calling your name. He stood up from his place and went to look in front of the changing room’s mirror. “I got beside him like this, only looking at him through the mirror but I could see him eyeing me up and down with a dopey smile.”

It looked like nostalgia took over his body, a sad smile adorning his face when he turned around to finish his sentence.

“Taeyong has always been easy like that.”

“You fell in love with one of them?”

“Mhm.” Ten walked on his platforms until he was sitting on your side once again. He put the tobacco down in the ashtray and took the black, thick choker he was wearing around his neck. “We got close like this.”

A slightly visible scar of what looked like a pair of fangs was there on his skin.

“I think it can happen to most of us.” Ten searched for something in between his tight clothes until he took out a tiny bag of powder. “I do wish to feel that high again, everyday of my life.” Opened it, collected a little on the inside of his long nails and inhaled. “But I don’t wish for anyone else to experience it at the same time.”

“Girl,” he said through the line. “You good? Are you done with your number?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied and hesitated for a moment on asking what you really wanted to know. “Do you know where I can find Johnny?”

A moment of silence, then Ten’s voice finally came back to your ears. “Last floor. His office is the only room you’ll find there.”

—

A gold painted door read Seo Youngho in front of your eyes. Under your black platforms, a petrol-colored carpet that combined perfectly with the dark walls of the hallway. You knocked on the door and checked above it and around the corners of the hallway to see if there were any cameras announcing your arrival, but opposite what you were used to in Doyoung’s office, there wasn’t a single one. You only heard a disturbed ‘come in’ from inside, and the voice made your stomach turn upside down.

The room behind the golden door was giant, covered in dark wood and black-out windows that reached the meters-long ceiling. Adorned in a typical gothic style, the office of your boss was what you would call a vampire's refuge, with thick blue curtains, and ornate armchairs sporting matching velvet. To your left, shelves that covered the walls full of books and boxes with files. To the right, a giant frame holding the most horrible canvas you've ever seen of Saturn devouring his son.

The voice of the boss himself made you turn your head to the center of the room.

Far from where you were, towards the end of the room and sitting behind a huge wooden desk covered in papers and candle wax was Johnny. He called your name a little surprised and made you feel stupid with a half empty whiskey bottle in your hand.

“Seems like you finally made a choice,” he said standing up from his place and coming in front of the desk.

You smiled with your lips sealed and started walking towards him. It was only a few steps, yet it felt like eternity. The room was incredibly cold, so much so that it gave you goosebumps and you had to fight a shiver once you were in front of the vampire. He looked down at you and laughed, taking the bottle out of your hand to pour two glasses of the liquor.

“The right one,” Johnny finished clinking his glass with yours.

The vampire went back to his place behind the desk, placing himself on his big wooden chair and inviting you to sit in front of him. “What brings you here?”

He was acting extremely weird, as if he wasn’t moved by your presence despite the initial surprise, not even after he fucked you in Doyoung’s bedroom what felt like hours ago. And when you saw him manspread as he lit up a cigarette, all you could think of was those same furrowed brows while he took you from behind in front of the mirror. You couldn't take him off of your mind. But he was unfazed.

“I expected to see you at the cave today.”

“I had a lot of work to do, as you can see.” He extended a hand showing you all the papers on his desk. “But luckily for you, I'm almost done.” That sparkled something inside you. A little bit of interest shown, enough for you to squeeze your legs together in excitement. Johnny looked down to your red stockings and lace and gifted you a lopsided smile. “I suppose you're still interested in seeing me?”

He took out another cigarette and lit it up, its black end burning while he handed the golden filter in your direction. When you put it between your lips, it was slightly humid.

“Yeah. Yes, of course.”

“Good then. I just need to go run some errands. It's gonna be quick. You can come with and then we’ll be heading home.”

It made you smile inevitably. You let the smoke come out of your mouth before agreeing to the plan. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Johnny stopped the car in front of a building you were too familiar with. It wasn’t your apartment, nor it was too far the casino to be Doyoung’s place. It was the entrance to Kun’s rusty apartment what made your blood run cold. He didn’t come out of the car immediately, only looking through the driver's window until two figures appeared through the front door. It was Yuta and that stunning female you saw him leave with earlier in the cave.

“What are we doing here?” You tried not to show the desperation in your voice.

“You stay in the car.”

The harsh sound of the closing door surprised you as Johnny went out to his encounter with Yuta and the female. You didn’t want to look suspicious, but you were dying to know what they were talking about and what they were doing in front of the building where the man you killed days ago used to live. So you tried your best to at least read the lips of the vampires and make out a little of what they were talking about. But it was all in vain, with Johnny showing his back to you and covering the figure of this intriguing female.

Shortly after, an old man came through the front door and greeted the vampires. His black suit and the police ID hanging from his neck left you frozen. They exchanged a few more words, an incredibly serious expression never leaving Yuta's face–the only one you could really see from your angle–, and then they parted ways.

Yuta and the female in the fur coat walked right in front of Johnny's car, and the japanese didn't miss the chance to suck the soul out of your body with his look. It took you back to what he said to the people sitting in the cave with you. You won't want to mess with this one.

What did he mean by that? What did Yuta know about you and how much did Johnny?

The closing of the driver’s door catched your attention and Johnny was sitting behind the steering wheel once again. Like a habit, the vampire caught your lips in a quick kiss after starting the car engine.

He looked at you fondly through his red irises. “Pretty little girls like you shouldn’t be playin’ with dead things, huh?” He asked with a smile. “Yet here we are.”

—

Johnny’s place looked nothing like the first and last time you were here, not with the curtains open and the dim lights of the streets finding their way through the windows. You checked the time on your phone screen and it was almost six in the morning. The sun was supposed to be showing behind the horizon already and warming up the world, but that was a scenario that didn’t take place anymore, and you had grown accustomed to it, to the darkness and the cold that surrounded and followed you every step since you had use of reason. You also noticed on top of your screen there was no service inside there.

You thought, in case something happened to you, at least Ten knew Johnny was the last person you were meant to see from that call you had with him earlier.

It was incredibly warm inside Johnny's house, and all the previous hours you had spent sleep deprived began to hit you one by one. You let out a big yawn as your arms relaxed on each side of your body, surrendered and exhausted.

A pair of lips came in contact with your cheek as your view got completely blocked by a tall and defined figure. Johnny kissed your skin softly while he caressed your arms up and down.

You couldn't help but think about how similar it felt to Doyoung's touch, and you avoided closing your eyes in fear that something strange would happen again. At that moment, you were suspicious of your desires, which seemed to confuse you to the point of imagining things.

“You’re pretty tired,” he noticed. “The boys told me you did really great today.”

“I really wanted you to see the new show.”

“Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

You nodded with a smile yet chased for his lips, what made Johnny laugh a little. “I’ll run a bath for the both of us.” Then he took your hand in his and started dragging you towards the bathroom.

Unsurprisingly, the room was painted in all dark colors and adorned in gold pieces. A wall decorated with what looked like figures of religious hearts was what caught the most attention. At its feet, a magnificent bathtub that could definitely fit more than two people, which Johnny quickly set about filling with hot water, and the image of the bathroom began to dissipate due to the steam. Among all that cloud, his hands invited you to take off his clothes, and he did the same to you with delicacy.

Johnny's body was incredible, even more toned than Doyoung's. Soft to the touch but firm under your grab, it made you want to tangle yourself between his arms and legs forever. And as if he was reading your mind, he put a foot inside the bathtub and extended a hand to you, inviting you in. The vampire laid his back to the end of it and placed your body between his long legs. You got so close to him that you were sure that, if he happened to be alive, you’d feel his heartbeat through his chest.

You allowed yourself to relax into his caresses as you fought to keep sleep from completely taking over you.

He massaged your scalp with shampoo, then moved his hands to release some of the tension in your shoulders. A sigh escaped your lips out of the satisfaction, and Johnny’s laugh resonated throughout your entire body due to the contact. His touch was quick but careful to explore the rest of your body, and when you felt it reaching the end of your stomach you had to make a confession.

“Johnny.”

He hummed at your call, so you continued talking.

“I don’t think I can fight it any more.”

“Fight what?” A curious tone reached your ears.

Then you felt his right hand traveling further down, and further down. The sensation of his fingers between your lips made you spread your legs wider and lay even more on his chest. And he started rubbing there, carefully, with no rush in his movements.

The stimulation of your clit made you moan out in pleasure and you heard him ask again.

“Fight what?”

You were wet and warm just like all the bathwater that surrounded you two, so it wasn’t difficult when he introduced one of his fingers to you. In fact, it felt so good you were no longer fighting the sleep that was taking over you a minute ago. What you actually meant earlier was that you couldn’t keep awake anymore, the bath becoming too relaxing for your exhausted self. But as you felt Johnny grow hard against your back you also felt all the sleepiness going away.

“Johnny,” you said once again between agitated breaths. Not once did he stop his finger from going in and out of you and from making you moan along with his movements.

“What?” He laughed as you kept calling his name and telling nothing to him. “Want another one?”

So he did introduce another finger without waiting for an answer. The steam from the water combined with the heat your body was radiating started to suffocate you, but it wasn’t enough for you to get out of there. You were finally having what you wanted, after all. Johnny grabbed one of your tits to alternate between squeezing and pinching on your nipple, as his fingers kept stimulating you all the way from your clit to deep inside your hole.

You clenched around his fingers as you felt the pleasure build up every second it passed. His long strands of hair, humid in your hand when you brought one of your arms up to pull on them. And you couldn’t wait to finally have Johnny inside of you once again. At that point, after experiencing how good he was with his hands only, you were dying to sit on top of him and to be under his body for hours and hours.

As your hand reached for him behind your back and you felt all the worries leave your mind, you finally spoke to him. “I want you, hurry up.”

“Hey, no need to rush,” he said while leaving sweet kisses on your neck and getting your hand out of the way. You were getting closer and closer, feeling like you were either about to explode or pass out once you were done.

All worries gone, except one.

The problem was that you felt like you had your days counted before something bad happened to you. You needed a vampire to turn you, to get the fuck out of Seoul with a ton of money as soon as possible, and you had been expecting that vampire to be Johnny. But once again, he didn’t seem to mind.

Johnny ignored your plea as he whispered in your ear:

“I have all the time in the world.”

Taglist: @doiefy @neonc1tylights @hoshitaro

[cityof2morrow]

NetworkMAT: Solar Build 001

Published: 8-14-2024 | Updated: N/A SUMMARY The Network Materials (NetworkMAT) (Simmons, 2023-2024) series includes assets for building modern road networks in Sims 2. Use these items to enhance your city’s streets, walkways, highways, skyways, bridges, and so on. Lay the way to the future with the Solar Build 001 (Simmons, 2024) collection. The set comes with solar-themed building accents including walls, overlays, tunnels, and floors. This is especially useful for those who might want to make a solar/power plant which matches the in-game solar panels. Use the #co2networkmat tag to find related CC on this site.

DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs. §9-25 for walls/flrs and §2000  for tunnels | Build > Walls/Floors/Architecture You need the BBNiche1Master from the Repository Pack (Simmons, 2023). Objects are center-aligned and meant to be used with 1-story or 2-story walls. Rain/Snow will fall through them unless you add floor tiles on top. For the road overlays, get the meshes from the links below.  ITEMS 3 Niche Recolors 9 Solar Walls/Floors (they match my Streets of 2morrow set HERE) 10 road overlays (for CuriousB’s road overlay rug, included in the Streets of 2morrow set) 10 road overlays (for the Modern Future Highway road pieces HERE) Large Solar Tunnel (12x20 ) (780 poly) Small Solar Tunnel (6x9) (780 poly) DOWNLOAD (choose one) from SFS | from MEGA CREDITS Thanks: Simming, Blender and Cities Skylines Community. Sources: Beyno (Korn via BBFonts), Solar Tunnel Highways (LoM, 2015 via Cities Skylines), Cities Skylines (Paradox Interactive and Tri Synergy, 2015), EA/Maxis, Nooks & Niches (BuggyBooz, 2012), Offuturistic Infographic (Freepik), Road Overlay (Wedingo, 2017; CuriousB, 2012).

[eleni-cherie]

a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.2

"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."

a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.

© 2024 | eleni_cherie

»»»

masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

»»»

4th December

Barcelona, Spain

"Are you sure we won't get caught?"

Cassandra's hushed concern laced with irrational excitement got Taehyung snicker under his breath. He briefly glanced over his shoulder, seeing her wonderous gaze as she was leaning in to try catching a glance of what he was doing.

"Not if you keep watching for any prying eyes," he countered with a smirk, causing her to mumble a muffled 'okay' into her scarf and returning to stand guard as she trusted him for some naive reason. And he continued shortwiring the alarm system.

Her eyes briefly wandered down to the colourful beige-brown-yellow pattern of wet tiles beyond the canopy, which covered the backyard of Casa Batlló. Quickly heaving them again to look around into the rainy afternoon, ensuring no one was seeing them indeed.

Usually the building and the integrated museum were open till late, 10pm, every day. However, that day and the next it was supposed to be closed for some minor renovations. Cassandra had mindlessly mentioned that as the two had passed by in search for a place to await the rain. Neither one having an umbrella. She hadn't expected him suggesting to break in, knowing it was one of her favourite buildings in the city, clearly joking and not actually meaning it. And she surely hadn't expected herself to agree despite knowing it was all tongue-in-cheek.

Feeling an unknown thrill and rush while standing there behind the fence now, shielding his thievery skills while he worked on the rather simple security system - as he claimed.

"Thought your friend was the master thief," she giggled then over her shoulder before redirecting her focus to their surroundings.

Taehyung only huffed at this. "Doesn't mean I don't have some aces up my sleeve, too." A cocky smirk audible in his voice.

A shiver crept up under her pink woollen coat then and she wondered if he wasn't cold at all with his rather thin coat, which was even left unbottoned. Simply unable to comprehend how someone wouldn't feel the need for a scarf in the with humidity spiked coldness of the city.

It was the middle of winter after all, also meaning it got dark earlier and the rainy clouds surely quickened the process. They still got some time left though. Which unfortunately also meant someone could still see them, despite the possibility being low considering the downpour.

Besides, Cassandra was also uncertain if all the other neighbouring buildings weren't inhabited like this one. She knew the one on the right was something like a parfum museum. The ones on the left looked a lot like office buildings. But the rest around the backyard? No clue.

Before she could voice any of her concerns, however, she heard Taehyung's triumphant cheer. And he got up from the electrical panel, cracking open the backdoor with ease. Holding it wide open for her to hurry inside and observed all nervousness wash away from Cassandra's face the further inside they stepped. Her brown irises big while they looked around the colourful tiles and curves. Their footsteps echoing against them in the empty silence.

"Come, this way!" she beamed with excitement while gripping her backpack tighter and he followed her through the posh dining room to a corridor, until they reached the entrance hall.

The place evoked an underwater environment with its white and light blue. They began climbing up the staircase then, past the lightwell which distributed the air and light that entered through the main skylight on top. Also completely covered in tiles of shades of blue, with more intense colour in the upper part and lighter tiles at the bottom.

There was a strangeness to seeing all those high-built exhalted rooms and spaces deprived of any presence and noise but theirs.

Eventually they reached the top and the entrance to the roof terrace.

It sounded like the rain had stopped by now, the clouds having wandered further away to another city part. But since they were already there, might as well take advantage of it. So she let him take over again, allowing him to pick the roof door's lock.

The roof terrace was dominated on each end by what was popularly known as the dragon's back, which characterised the facade and had been represented with different coloured tiles. However, the main focal point of the terrace were the four crooked and polychrome chimney stacks.

The rooftops of all the other buildings around the blocks visible beyond them. Bathed in a warm hue by the low winter sun that peeked through the now clearing clouds.

Everything glistening wet, reflecting its rays.

"I've never been here with no other people around," she said, taking in the view in awe. Not paying attention to the slippery ground, she'd have landed on the cold tiles if it wasn't for Taehyung's quick reaction. Grabbing her arm and holding onto her tightly.

"Careful, clumsy fellow."

She blushed at his teasing grin. "Y-yeah, thanks."

There were a few chairs scattered around for visitors and they settled for a couple under a porch, spared from the rain. And Taehyung's eyes widened when watching Cassandra unpack a small drawing pad and a pencil. Seeing her beginning sketching on her lap.

It didn't happen often, but there were periods she really got into this often overlooked interest of hers. Overlooked since studying and working had taken up most energy in the past. Not leaving much for anything else. So she tried picking it up again whenever she could, carrying her pad and pencil wherever she went.

He peeked on her paper, seeing the rough outline of the skyline and the roof taking shape on it. And he pursed his lips. "You draw?"

"Mh, a bit. Sometimes."

"Do you have a spare piece of paper?"

Arching a brow at him briefly, she nodded and heaved hers to tear off another one for him. Offering him a pencil as well, which he accepted with a smile.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of calluses on his palm and index finger. From a gun, she concluded.

"You draw, too?" she asked then, adjusting the thick beanie on her head before glancing back down to her drawing pad.

"Hardly. But figured I could pick it up again instead of sitting here idle," he explained with a small shrug and started doodling. "Don't expect anything grand though."

she laughed under her breath. "Neither should you."

They grew quiet with only their scribbling pencils and the passing cars down on the street audible. Until Taehyung took out his phone and a mellow jazz song began accompanying them instead. And Cassandra stole a glance at him.

Over the course of the past three months, he'd tended to stop by in between of breaks from heists. He said it was because he loved the city and perhaps that was true. But she couldn't help and secretly hope it was partially for her, too.

He was still somewhat a stranger in some aspects. And a friend in others. One of these friends you only met once in awhile and yet, it didn't feel weird or awkward. Making her wonder if she would also still get along like this with her actual old friends from highschool and medical school.

And in an odd way, Taehyung felt the same strange familiarity with the young doctor. Cassandra was like a childhood friend.

When he was with her, he didn't feel like an internationally wanted thief, but rather like a normal and perhaps even good person.

She made him forget about what he was when being away from her. And in some naive way he wanted to cling onto that, for as long as possible at least.

After all, they had barely known each other and yet, while spending afternoons together just strolling around, it felt always easy. Effortlessly. At some point they'd even reached the beach, only then realising how they'd had walked up all the way there without noticing. They could always talk about anything and have fun.

Cassandra didn't know she wasn't the only one finding comfort in that.

Much to her dismay, however, they couldn't talk about everything as Taehyung would never tell her any stories from his heists with Jimin and Yoongi.

He lied that it'd be a thief's codex not to speak with an outsider about it, when in reality he simply didn't want her to judge or be scared of him.

He had this justified paranoia that a woman like her wouldn't want to have anything to do with someone like him if she knew any details. After all, he still couldn't fathom the fact she hadn't already run away from the very beginning when knowing what he was.

And besides, him not letting her in on his criminal life would be better in any case. For both of them.

"May I ask something?" she spoke up then, after tucking a coppery curl behind her ear that had gone astry by the breeze high up there. Hearing him hum, she gathered her courage and proceeded. "How did you become a thief? I mean.. did you wake up one day and thought 'yep, that's what I wanna do'?"

It was something she'd always wondered but never dared to mention. However, the sight of his hand reminded her of it again. So she decided to attempt coaxing some info out of him at least. Anything.

Cassandra's unapologetic curiosity made Taehyung burst out laughing, genuinely entertained by her. However, she mistook it for mockery and only pouted.

"Don't tell me if you don't want to. But stop making fun of me," she mumbled awkwardly.

He quickly shook his head, though, stifling another bubbling chuckle. "No, no. It's alright. I don't mind. Just didn't expect that sudden question."

She only hmpf-ed, focusing on her sketch. "So?"

"Well.." he began then scratching his head while contemplating how to explain it, "It's definitely not that I woke up one day and decided to be one. It just.. happened."

Cassandra only shot him a funny look. "Like.. you just tripped and fell into it?"

Wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes again and he bit back another chuckle. Getting the reference.

The cold wind picked up anew, tousling his hair and making Cassandra's body grow stiff for a moment.

"Kinda.. remember Jimin?"

"Of course," she nodded, "How could I forget that cute face."

"Cute face, huh?" he huffed out a laugh, "Don't let him hear that, his ego is already out of proportion."

She giggled, nodding. "Noted. So, what's with him?"

Taehyung sighed into the wind. His pencil pausing for a brief second. "It is a long story.."

"We got time," she shrugged, erasing a part and sketching it again, "But if you don't wanna.."

"I mean.. it's not easy to explain." He lowered the volume of his phone then. "I mean, why did you decide to be a physician?"

"Oh."

She glanced up at him, seeing his mischievious grin which caused her to huff out amused.

So that was how he wanted to play.

"In my case it wasn't anything special, though," she shrugged and went back to her drawing, "I like helping people and I love biology. And I'm interested in how things work. How these different organs and cells interact together." A small smile formed on her lips as the pencil glided over the thick piece of paper. "Between all the subjects and things that interested me, this was the one holding more meaning to me, you know? So yeah.. That was my reason. Nothing too special, really."

Taehyung observed her with a fond smile, finding her reason rather noble than as simple as she made it sound. Returning to his doodles then.

"Not the money or prestige?" he teased then, making her scoff in fake-offence.

"Please, if I wanted just money and prestige I could've studied economics or finances or something like that. Would've been way easier than all the nights studying anatomy and metabolic deseases. Believe me."

He hummed amused.

Of course he knew there was a big portion of doctors doing it for the wrong reasons, but he'd never believed her belonging to them. She just didn't strike him as such a superficial person, even if his analysing skills weren't as advanced as Jimin's, he believed that he reckoned up her character pretty well at least. And he was glad he was proven right.

The setting sun bathed everything in a sepia light. The atmosphere warm and bright despite the crisp temperature.

Although the anew dark clouds nearing from the south did concern her.

"Now it's your turn," she smirked and looked up to the afternoon view to catch more details. Planning to engrave the golden colours of the atmosphere into her memory to add them at home.

Taehyung hummed, scratching his neck with the back of the pencil while contemplating. "Well, for you to understand I have to explain my upbringing I guess," he exhaled almost in defeat then and sat back. Allowing his eyes to wander over the grey rooftops. "My earliest memories consist of a skyscraper in Mumbai, where my father brought me along to a meeting with a 'client'. I was only five back then." He paused, chewing the inside of his cheek as he chose his next words. "My dad.. he did business with shady people, so you could say the apple never falls far from the tree." A hollow laugh left his lips at the irony and he drew an abstract cartoon face. "Hence why he also taught me how to shoot a gun from an early age. I still remember when he did for the first time."

Cassandra only nodded, listening intently. She wanted to allow him opening up fully. "So it's save to assume you must be pretty good with a gun," she said instead.

Her assumptions proven correctly when she saw him nod, sighing.

"Don't wanna brag, but I'm a pretty good marksman. Yeah." His gaze fell.

It wasn't like he ever felt exceptionally proud of his remarkable skills, in fact, he was always quite indifferent about them. However, telling her about them now made an unusual nervousness rise inside him. Fearing her judgement.

"Anyway," he composed himself then, "So you can say my dad wasn't necessarily father of the year, but besides teaching me how to shoot and taking me along to business trips, he was alright and took care of me. But since we travelled and moved a lot and I never got to stay at a place for too long. Which kinda sucked."

A scowl crossed her featured. "Oh, what about school or friends?"

"I had to constantly change schools and always had to leave the friends I found behind."

"That sounds.. hard," she sighed, giving him a look of empathy.

And he nodded as an old Sinatra classic began playing, distracting him for a moment. He ran his hand through his messy waves then. "Yeah.. but it didn't last for too long, so it's okay. Really. When I turned thirteen my dad left me at my grandparents and disappeared, so.. I was able attending school frequently after all."

At this, Cassandra perked up again. Brows furrowed in confusion how he brushed over that grave information so easily. "W-what? He disappeared?"

Taehyung only shrugged nonchalantly. Masking the still lingering hurt and confusion. "Y-yeah.. The only thing I have left of him is his Magnum. He gave it to me before leaving. And I still have it, carrying it around wherever I go."

He knew that he didn't have to tell her all this, but he felt like doing it anyway. Although it wasn't something he talked about often. Or ever.

The only people who knew were his two closest and only friends, and perhaps Seokjin and his interpol agents if they had done their work correctly. However, he hoped that knowing his backstory would at least help her understand it better. And perhaps prevent her from judging him too much.

But Cassandra wasn't judging him. Rather the opposite.

She folded her lips at this, quietly processing his words. And all of a sudden a deep sadness spread inside her instead. The quiet background music coming from his phone emphasising the lingering heaviness.

Obviously she'd already assumed that his life and upbringing most likely hadn't been all sunshine and rainbows - whose really were anyway - but she hadn't expected it to be so sombre. Despite him trying brushing it off and not dissembling it. She could still tell it was a baggage he carried with him by the dullness clouding his usually bright eyes.

"Mh, it's a memento of your father," she concluded then with a nod, more to herself than him. "And that's why you became a thief?"

"No, not really. But it's what pathed the way for me, I guess," he snickered. The laugh not reaching his eyes. And her lips parted but before she could say anything more, he continued. "What eventually made me a thief was when I met Jimin, the most annoying, insufferable and sly skirt chaser at school," he sighed, chuckling under his breath. It was genuine amusement this time. "But he was also the most loyal and reliable friend I ever had."

At this, Cassandra couldn't help but coo, averting her focus from her sketch to look at him with crescent-shaped eyes. "You two are childhood friends, that's so lovely."

Taehyung smiled at her reaction. Finding it unexpected but also endearing. "Yeah, we were school friends. But not right from the start. To me he was just a rebellious and entitled lil' rich brat, a real trouble-maker. I preferred hanging out with the other kids or staying by myself."

She could tell he was holding back a nostalgic laugh and she smiled. "Sounds like a handful," she agreed, "But you still ended up becoming friends."

He scoffed, folding his arms. "I was kinda forced, to be honest. He saw me having a gun one day and then dragged us into a shootout all because he was into that woman - who was at least ten years older than us, mind you." Now getting genuinely upset when recalling the incident at the bar two 13-year-olds didn't have any business to be at. Adding with a frustrated breath, "This idiot never thinks when he sees a pretty girl and the rest of us have to carry the can for it." He shook his head then. "Anyway, I ended up becoming friends with him. We hung up and since thievery ran in Jimin's blood - it was literally his family-business - he began being on the fiddle. And I ended up helping him. And as we grew older it went from robbing liquor to banks to museums and art galleries to.. well, to actual treasures around the world. And on the way, we met Yoongi who joined us. That's the story, I guess."

Cassandra breathed out an astonished "wow", eyes gaping at him in a short silence. "That's.. an intense story," a mischievous smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, "Are you sure you didn't steal that from a film plot?"

He laughed as well, looking down at his three caricatures. "I wished."

The dark blanket of clouds she had noticed earlier had come threateningly closer by now. Covering the right side of the sky completely, while the rest also had a fair amount of smaller, lighter clouds. Still not enough to completely cover it there, though, leaving enough space for the colorful sky to peak through when a more upbeat song began playing.

"You know, it's kinda funny," Cassandra said then, making him perk up. He noticed her lips curled into a small ambiguous smile. Eyes resting on the skyline before going back to her drawing. "We're so different, you and me. But our upbringings still ended up having some similarities."

He was intrigued by this. "Like what?"

She picked another pencil, a thicker one compared to the one she had sketched the buildings in. "My parents are nature photographers, you know, always been travelling around the world. Still do. I barely see them, only when they visit me once every one or two months. And back in the days, they'd take me with them to all the far places," she explained," My earliest memories are of myself chasing pigeons on the Plaza de la Catedral in Havana when I was merely four years old. I remember it vividly. It was a lively, colourful place. I'd like to revisit one day." The ambiguousness in her expression now replaced with nostalgia. "And then when I was old enough to attend school, they left me with my grandparents. Just like you, I grew up with them and suddenly I had something like a stable life. But my parents would still take me with them during holidays, so I still got to travel."

Perhaps that was why to this day, something inside her remained unsettled so she took any chance she got to travel somewhere. Whether it was during her medical internships or for vacations.

The two exchanged a look, holding each other's gaze with a smile of mutual understanding.

The similarity of their childhoods consisting of constant travelling with no real sense of 'home' up until a certain age, was comforting in a way. Although their circumstances being clearly unlike, to know there was someone else with similar experience and upbringings was maybe what really bonded them in the end, despite living so vastly different lives.

They continued sketching in a comfortable silence then. 

The sun neared the mountains in the distance and the golden hue of the atmosphere soon became darker. The clouds which had now covered most of the sky above them, reflecting the disappearing sun's orangy gleam. Bright, fluffy clouds on their right contrasting dark heavy ones on their left. The sky looking like straight out of the renaissance paintings in a museum. And both stared at it in awe.

Cassandra took another paper out and began a new sketch. Hatching harsher shadows on the buildings and clouds. Trying her best to capture the dramatic picturesque view in front of her. And Taehyung observed her silently, admiring the pure concentration in her face.

Soon the darker ones absorbed more of the yellow sky in their purple shades. The sun hidden by now. Only the smaller becoming gleam behind the buildings letting them assume where it was- With pink cotton candy clouds in the far north contrasting the shades of blue around them. Only half an hour later, the sun had set completely. Leaving the buildings standing dark against the still dimly coloured sky. 

Another brisk breeze passed by then and she shivered, causing her tho almost smudge the sketch.

"Are you cold?" Taehyung wondered out loud, making her frown.

"Of course. Aren't you?"

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his coat's pockets. Not because he was cold but out of habit. "Not really, no."

"You may not feel it, but your body might become hypothermic if you're not careful."

He hummed.

"You should definitely dress warmer. Put on a scarf of something."

"Is that a doctor's advice?" he smirked and she puffed out a laugh.

"It's actually a doctor's order."

"Oh, is that so?" His brows rose. Finding her lecturing tone quite amusing as it was contrasting her otherwise gentle and bubbly demeanor. "I should follow it then."

She knew he wasn't taking her serious, but she had done her duty and warned him. It was up to him if he listened or not.

"I like this song," she said then, motioning with her chin to his phone. His brows rose as his gaze fell on it. 'Unforgettable' by Nat Kind Cole was playing. And he couldn't help but beam at her. "So do I."

A tiny waterdrop landed on the back of her hand then. And another one. She looked up, seeing the purple clouds now hanging low above them. Stretching all the way to the pastel pink coloured north side. Another waterdrop landed on her cheek and she realised those weren't normal waterdrops but actual raindrops.

Taehyung had also noticed them, holding the palm of his hand against them. "I think it's raining again."

As soon as he said that, more and more drops fell abruptly from the sky and Cassandra cursed under her breath. Quickly packing up and shoving everything into her backpack. And they hurried inside, following the stairs back downstairs.

They could hear the rain picking up on volume, pattering loudly against the glass of the skylight and the windows.

The stairs led them to the house's main living room, which despite the large picture window that formed a gallery onto the rain-covered main street, was left in an eery atmosphere due to the lack of light. The huge oak doors and the wavy ceiling only adding to this.

Cassandra sat down on the floor in front of the gallery window taking off her beanie. A sigh escaping her lips when seeing the rain pouring down harsher, becoming more violent. Turning into a downright cloudburst. "And I was thinking about taking my umbrella with me, but of course I didn't.."

"I bet it's just another short downpour, it'll be over soon," Taehyung said, taking a seat next to her and resting his arms on his angled legs. He motioned to her backback then. "Are your drawings okay?"

Her eyes grew wide, only now remembering them. She zipped open her backpack, taking out her drawing pad and flipping threw the pages. They seemed alright, no wavy edges, no blurred or dissorted lines. And she sighed in relief. "Yeah, they seem fine."

Suddenly the pad was tucked out of her grip and she watched Taehyung's eyes intently browsing over them as well. His brows knitting lightly, making her wonder what he was thinking about.

"You said not to expect much, but these are incredible," he said then with a straight face, handing her the pad back. Cassandra blinked, hesitatedly accepting it and stuffing it back into her bag.

"I mean.. they were rather casually drawn.. but thanks," she mumbled, not really taking the compliment serious. Knowing they weren't her best works considering their rushed nature and it'd been awhile since she'd last drawn.

Taehyung only eyed her for a moment and shrugged, resting his gaze on the streams of water flowing down the gallery window in front of them. "Sure, but you still captured the atmosphere and contrasts well. I like them."

At this she bit back a genuine smile.

"Oh, well thank you then." She playfully nudged his arm with a wiggle in her brows. "Didn't know you were such an 'art connoisseur'."

He laughed under his breath, sensing she only wanted to distract from the blush on her cheeks. And he let her.

"You know, we've not only stolen jeweles and artefacts. Sometimes we steal paintings, too. Some knowledge must've brushed off on me."

Nodding, she hummed. Eyes joining his in watching the heavy growing rain outside. "What paintings did you steal?"

"Some Manet's, some Rembrandt's, an El Greco.." he mused, "You know, all these portraits they've painted made me realise one thing.."

Intrigued, she peeked at him. "And what?"

He faced her with a lopsided grin. "That I'd like having one myself. Like one of these sleazy rich guys. To put it over my fireplace or something."

Cassandra couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Do you even have a fireplace?"

His grin widened. "I don't even have my own house," he said, laughing along with her now over his own absurdity, "But one day, one day I will."

And they sat there shoulder to shoulder, watching the storm pass by. For a brief second he thought about taking his phone out again before deciding against it. Somehow preferring listening to the pit-a-pat of the rain instead.

»»»

next chapter: 0.3 here

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[madarasgirl]

A Night for Hunting Ch.16 -Just Another Day in Paradise

T/W: Alucard (Ultimate) x F!Reader, soft yandere, pure sugary fluff, romance, slice-of-life, Valentine’s Day @alastorhazbin On AO3 Words: 4673

Happy Lunar New Year! It’s the Year of the Dragon, aka Dracula’s year. 

This was meant to be Ch 17, but I swapped the order between the two chapters because I thought this made more chronologic sense. This chapter also fits the theme of Valentine's Day better! We’re mostly just catching up with what has happened since the Reader moved in before they go on a little date.

There is a lot of narration because I don't have the ability to write that much slice-of-life for Alucard since his in-canon states are usually sulking, violence, anger, emotional breakdown, and cockiness (to hide the emotional turmoil). He's a romantic, but the joys of normal living don't come to him that easily. Same goes for me trying to write it.

A number of months have passed and you were settling into your life at Hellsing, strange as it had become. You continued to work, but were also required to report for training three times a week, where you would proceed to get your butt kicked. Despite the muscle ache and fatigue, it felt good to feel your body getting stronger, even if it sucked to have Alucard see you getting pummelled by the old man Ferguson whenever the vampire happened to drop by and watch. Last week, you finally began firearms training after Captain Ferguson decided your self-defence will suffice for now at your beginner's level.

Alucard was not always at Hellsing. Sometimes he was sent away to other cities for ‘assignments’ for days at a time. When he was not called upon for his services, he would have ample free time, where he mostly stayed in his dungeon staring off into space while sipping his precious wine. It appeared these days, other favourite pastimes were for him to scheme up ways to spook you around the manor and chasing you around the courtyard for sport as you returned from work.

You were quickly learning to check your surroundings for his presence, such as the funny shadows in the corner and misplaced eyes peeking from under tables. You knew to brace for him suddenly coming at you through the walls. But the vampire never terrorized you down in the basement. Whenever you went to see him at night, he never came with the intention of frightening you. It seemed his lair was meant to be a refuge and he reinforced your visits by not scaring you off with negative associations with the place. As if you were Pavlov’s dog in training…

The jerk! He thought he had you in his back pocket already, didn't he?! 

Still, you didn't venture into his dungeon nightly, even if wall lamps had been installed. It was just too uncomfortably eerie underground. The creeping darkness did not relinquish its clutches and every time you descended into the deep cold, it was difficult to shake the fear of the unseen despite knowing that Alucard would be at the end. 

Absent from the dungeon was the sun, which you were mildly surprised to discover you needed, and experiencing it from your balcony was wonderful on the odd days when it wasn’t raining and the sky wasn’t grey with clouds. When you basked in the early morning rays of late winter, Alucard would wait patiently inside your room for you to leave the warm light behind and return to him. He would frequent your chamber when you didn't reciprocate his visits, so eventually you had blackout curtains installed in your windows such that he wouldn’t have to deal with the light.

Your internal clock now operated on its own timeline. Sometimes you were up during the day for errands or the odd morning shift, where Alucard would come watch you getting ready and then see you off. You could also be training late into the night or spending the witching hours with him. There was so little time to be idle. 

With your sleep schedule all over the place, your circadian rhythm was likewise out of whack. When you nodded off in exhaustion in his arms or woke up in one of your beds, Alucard would hum to you occasionally when you were between consciousness and sleep, the enchanting baritone of his voice ushering you off into the safe realm of dreams or guiding you back into the world of wakefulness. He told you it was a lullaby Wallachian mothers used to sing to their babies to lull them to sleep. 

Nightmares were a distant memory. In fact, you never even experienced anything resembling an unsettling dream since moving into Hellsing. You suspected it had something to do with Alucard guarding your dreams, though he did not affirm this. You never expected your lover to do this for you and you thought it very sweet of him. Under the watchful eyes and gentle caresses of the vampire king, you slept more soundly than ever whenever you were at last given the opportunity.

Your most cherished moments were when you read together at night, when you’d sit just close enough to touch, but both be occupied with your own material. Too many times in the past, he came to watch you read. As it became too unnerving, you finally offered to lend him the first books of the series you were reading if he was interested. It was a cosmic injustice that the undead cat was capable of devouring literature nonstop night and day until he reached the end of a book. No eating or resting or even moving from his seat, except the times when he'd pause to fold you in half and–

You had precious little free time, but there were perks to living at an estate like Hellsing. Delicious meals were prepared and laundry services were provided when you didn’t want to do these chores yourself. When you wanted to cook your own food for Alucard and yourself, a smaller, fully equipped kitchen was available so you could be his home chef. What a quality of life improvement! 

You sighed, smiling to yourself as you stretched out in bed and recalled the whirlwind of the past months. At long last, you had a day off to yourself. Alucard was somewhere and you were excited to leave the premises to venture out into the city. Not only would you temporarily escape the polite small-talk and gossip of the serving staff, you could finally also get some fresh air away from the stringent rules of this military compound.

Alucard shadowing you was now a familiar comfort so you knew you were not alone, but there was a purpose to your trip today and with him absent, it was the perfect chance to go.

There was a bounce to your step as you made your way through one of countless identical hallways with freedom on your mind. One painting after another passed by. You halted, your hair standing on end at once when your eyes skimmed over a detail on the wall by chance. Crimson glowed from the irises in a noble’s portrait. Letting out a breath, you put a hand over your chest and scowled at Alucard. 

The eyes curled with laughter. “You are becoming quite adept at seeking out my presence.” The shadows peeled from the painting and the towering vampire stepped out to stare down at you. “You cannot escape from me. I will always find you wherever you go.” He announced with a self-assured expression.

“I wasn’t even running this time,” you replied with an indignant shrug and tugged the straps to your bag higher over your shoulders. “I already have plans today. Find something else to do with yourself that doesn't involve bothering me.” There was a glint in his eyes as that smirk grew wider.

Your brows twitched. “I don’t need an armed escort!”

He was following you down the hall, so you ignored him as you kept walking towards the foyer, now used to the way his smooth gait made him appear as if he was almost floating. When the infuriating vampire remained at your heel several paces later, you spun, bristling as you tried to shoo him off like a pest. “Must you follow me? I’ll be back soon and it’s daytime!” You asked him.

He caught your hands with a light touch and brought his face close to yours, softly rubbing circles on your palms with his thumbs.

“You are my responsibility,” he whispered. 

It was Sir Integra’s command. Vermillion pinned you to the spot and you glared back, pressing your lips together until you broke eye contact first and stared at the carpeted floor. You were his.

Alucard had already decided to join his human on the day’s adventures despite your protests. And so you ended up going shopping with an ancient peacock who didn’t know how not to attract attention.

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

Colourful displays lined both sides of the boulevard and people were queuing outside several of the most popular boutiques. The atmosphere was electric with the air buzzing with life and excited chatter. You would have shared in the high spirits of the strangers around you, if it weren’t for your flashy companion souring the mood.

You were an idiot. You spent so much time researching which specialty stores you wanted to visit, you made no alternate plans in case anyone from Hellsing decided to keep tabs on you. Worst of all, it had to be Alucard. There would actually be no issue if it was anyone but him. All you wanted to do was to buy him a gift! How could anyone so old be this clueless?! 

The flamboyant vampire towered more than a foot over nearly every person around him and people were giving him space. The bright red of his fedora and trench coat screamed, but who were you trying to fool? Alucard would still stand out wearing anything else in each of his forms. It was in his nature for the curtains to be drawn for him on stage. 

The problem was you didn’t appreciate the attention as people gawked at Alucard, even if you couldn’t deny that it was convenient to have the crowd part to make way for the pair of you coming through. You stewed as you tried to think up a way to get him to give you a few minutes alone, but every swoosh of his duster only exacerbated your ire. With his telepathy, he should know what you were up to, so any element of surprise was already ruined.

“I can scent your frustration,” he stated with his signature grin plastered to his face.

“Why yes. Ever since I became incarcerated at Hellsing, it’s been ‘go go go’ all day, everyday. And now on my only full day off in quite a while, I’m stuck with you. Can’t a lady get some privacy?” You railed to air your grievances.

“You are not a prisoner,” he murmured with a frown while gazing down at you. Unreadable golden pools swirled lazily behind tinted lenses.

You rolled your eyes and was about to remind him of all your lost privileges.

“You are not a prisoner,” he repeated with his eyes narrowed, “You are mine.”

You jolted, eyes widening before your mouth clamped shut. The vampire was so casual with throwing the assertion around, especially in public. Of course you knew it already. He told you multiple times before and frequently referred to you as ‘his human,’ ‘his Darling,’ or something to that effect. 

Alucard’s gloved hand remained on the small of your back as he guided you through the throngs, feeling strangely comforted by the claim of possession. It was the same way as he would through the manor, particularly on nights you were feeling intensely uncertain about your place at Hellsing, he would proudly let the world know you were with him.

You wanted to melt into the ground at the thought that being Alucard’s was merely a euphemism for being his prisoner.

Lifting your eyes as you noted the cross-section and stalled, the background noise of the crowd disappeared as you became the only two people in the world. The people flowed around you. You fidgeted from foot to foot as you looked back up at your vampire.

“We’re here,” you mumbled.

Alucard’s gaze snapped from you to the storefront. A chocolate store?

“It was meant to be a surprise.” You muttered with a deflated pout. It really wasn’t that big of a deal for Alucard to accompany your outing, but you wanted to keep the small components under wraps until you were ready to present them together.

When you looked back up, your view was obscured by a huge white palm. Alucard’s hand landed on your head and he ruffled your hair. His expression was warm. “I will wait here,” he said.

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

You made relatively quick work of shopping inside, though you had a blast conversing with the owner and choosing the chocolates for your……boyfriend…

Your choices were loaded with coffee and alcohol-infused truffles. Alucard seemed the sort to enjoy the various champagne, whiskey, and espresso flavours. 

Making your way through the patterned glass exit with the fancy bag filled with premium confections, waves of irritation washed over you upon seeing several young women making eyes at Alucard from a short distance. Luckily for them, they weren’t daring enough to approach the strange man. You pushed the feeling down and went up to him, whose gaze was already fixed on you before you opened the door.

“Little one, shall we depart to your next destination? The sun is rather fatiguing.” He greeted you with a grin as you took his arm.

“I apologize for keeping you past your bedtime. I told you to stay home,” you scoffed while rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you act more like a vampire and stay out of the sun like Seras?”

The original vampire lifted a brow at you. “The police girl refuses to drink and as such, she has not yet become a true vampire.” 

You peered up and let out an exasperated sigh, “Stop calling her that. It’s not nice! She has a name and you’re always too harsh with her.”

“I’m not nice.”

You snorted at the amused vampire as a teen on a hoverboard charged closer at speed until his eyes popped at the sight of the crimson giant ahead, swerving to avoid Alucard and nearly crashing to the side. Expletives were hurled his way by other pedestrians as you and your vampire left the scene without a second glance.

“Little human, you referred to Hellsing as ‘home.’”

“I did…” You tilted your head with puzzlement, not even noticing when the word slipped as you were conversing. When did you start thinking of that place as such when the lifestyle there remained so foreign? You glanced up to study your lover’s face.

Alucard purred softly, the image of satisfaction. Up against him, only you would feel the vibrations of the rumble. "If you were my fledgling, I would not hesitate to feed you. We would have an eternity for me to teach you the ways of our kind."

There was heat in his eyes and you quickly looked away, so flustered your eyes darted everywhere except back at him. You weren’t prepared for ruminating such prospects nor this discussion again. Your companion chuckled at your reaction as he led you through a quieter street.

People meandered leisurely, stopping to point at the latest statement releases of the season. You ambled along awkwardly, caught up in the reveries of your own life for some distance until something in a display caught your eyes. Oh! Your interest had been piqued for months; you even spent hours on researching the specs and other alternatives to this product. You turned your head to stare at it as you passed.

Alucard stopped.

You barely noticed him as your eyes watered at the price until he was slipping away and heading to the entrance.

“Wait! No!” Grabbing onto his wrists, you tried to yank him away from behind. “It’s way too expensive for what it is!”

He took another step forward, dragging you with him, so you raced around to his front to block his approach. 

“If you desire this item, I shall purchase it for you.”

“Alucard, stop! I really don’t need it!” Money was no object to the eldritch terror, but you put your hands to his chest and applied pressure to try nudging him away, to no avail. Several couples who were close slowed to observe the spectacle. A young woman tittered at what she undoubtedly thought was a cute exchange between a dark, dashing stranger and his romantic interest.  

“Sweet, you should seize the things you desire, but if you are unwilling, I shall, as my offerings to you.”

Seize–

Your eyes bugged and you giggled sheepishly at the Medieval man in front of you. You pushed at his chest to try steering him away again with a big smile. Alucard’s brows furrowed.

“Something is amusing?”

You bursted out laughing, but attempted to maintain some decorum, not wanting to cause any more of a scene than you already were.

You whispered so only he heard you. “Alucard, you’re so silly! Sometimes people browse stuff only because the idea of those material goods bring them some joy, not because we actually want or need them. Have you forgotten what it is like to be human? It seems you have a lot to remember about human emotions.” Still snickering lightly, you tugged the large vampire down to lay a peck to his forehead.

You beamed at Alucard before running ahead to the next store, leaving him behind with a stunned expression.

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

You had the wine and the chocolate. And Alucard suggested a much better destination to enjoy them together than your original idea of having them in his dungeon with just the two of you, though you had to make a detour to pick up plastic wine cups.

The rambling hills of Hampstead Heath rolled in tumbling waves over hundreds of acres that embraced ponds and woodlands. You passed the drive leading to the historic grounds of the Kenwood Estate. As beautiful as the building was, the idea was to escape from British mansions for the day.

Dense reeds swayed in coordination with the wind, thick and with the likeness of a woman batting her lashes at a lover. Waterfowl were returning to the ponds and the occasional nature photographer stopped to capture these winged marvels. Alucard took you through trails down the east end of the enormous park, sticking close to the ponds until you reached a clearing, and suddenly, the tranquil stroll through nature exploded with life. 

It had been years since you last sat at this lovely hilltop viewpoint overlooking London’s skyline. Couples abounded in every direction. It seemed romance was in the air this mild, sunny day. Some younger pairs frolicked in a merry gambol while others sat together head on shoulder to enjoy the spectacular view. It was so warm there were even families picnicking.  

Yes, this was superior to that dingy basement. 

Nostalgia hit you hard as you took in the views of home. You used to live in that neighbourhood roughly over there. Day in and day out, you’d make your commute between work and home. And Alucard used to chase you around that area, though most of it was hidden from this vantagepoint. Turning to your lover, you found him lost in thought as well as he gazed into the distance, recalling a past brimming with events unknown to you.

The midnight essence of his locks billowed gently with the breeze. He was so pale. Despite his conviction about hating the sun, once again, the light casted his arresting features with a divine glow. Like a fallen angel, or something even holier. 

From out of the blue, the hilarious image of Alucard as Cupid bubbled up. He was a lanky deity draped in loose robes, wielding a bow and shooting arrows at random pairs of people for his entertainment. That they would fall in love was merely an accidental by-product of his fun. You squashed the ridiculous idea hopefully before Alucard saw it too, but let out a chortle. God of Love? Him? Who were you kidding? Your vampire’s gaze slid sideways to you with a slight fanged smile before he turned his attention back to the cityscape.

The mellow warmth of the unseasonal weather gave you comfort. You came to the realization your previous qualms about the obstacles of being with Alucard were fading. Like leftover winter sludge melting away with the balminess of spring, replaced by your gentle, simmering affection for the vampire. Spring will arrive early, and the barren trees will likely come into bud soon as the season of new beginnings comes into being.

As always, Alucard grounded you too. Watching him stand alone, all of your doubt suddenly went away somehow. You were getting used to the late nights, early mornings, and the smarting bruises from physical training. It wasn’t awful at Hellsing as long as you had him. 

You opted to forego Alucard’s old-fashioned way of taking his offered arm and laced your fingers with his instead. Putting your other hand over the back of Alucard’s, you exhaled. “You probably already knew of all my plans since you spoiled the surprise yourself by poking around in my head.”

You chose a grassy spot where the hill swelled higher to sit and your vampire joined you, throwing his spidery legs straight out as he leaned back on his hands.

“I know of the saint.” He glanced over. “Such an inane occasion.” To need the excuse of some saint’s legacy from over a millennium ago in order to celebrate one’s lover was indeed absurd.

The corners of your lips lifted. “Have you never celebrated Valentine’s before, Alucard?”

“Time spent with you is already the greatest gift.”

His stare was intense and your expression softened, your chest tightening at the sincerity of your lover’s statement, no longer feeling like being a brat. Time was indeed your limiting factor. You met halfway and kissed him with an extended, delicate touch to show him you felt the same way and he nuzzled you, as he usually did.

Yours.

“Feed me,” he murmured as you parted with a soft, dreamy look. This again. You rolled your eyes at his demand, but complied. 

After letting the vampire open his gift himself, you went with a champagne truffle to start –to commemorate the occasion, but also everything that transpired between you. How far you’d come from where you began.

You sucked in a breath as the cold muscle of Alucard’s tongue slipped around your finger after he took the treat. He licked the melting chocolate off your fingertips with a deep rumble. 

“We’re in public!” You gasped and ripped your hand away as he lapped at his lips with a satisfied grin. He sniffed the air.

“Scotch next,” he said.

“Only if you’ll stop being a creep!”

The vampire chuckled as he helped open the red wine. He turned the bottle over to read the label before decanting into the plastic cups. “Ah –an excellent choice.” He eyed the box as you referred to the legend to find his choice of scotch truffle. Not everyone could simply sniff out what was what from several feet away. 

You offered the next piece and he bit into it while holding your gaze. Not bothered by his antics this time, you tossed the other half in your own mouth and savoured the flavours melting into your tongue. Swirling your glass, you took a sip of wine when the chocolate passed, pleased to find the flavours went well together.

Beside you, Alucard sampled his own glass and let out a contented moan. You shimmied closer to rest your head on his shoulder in imitation of the other couples around you and peeked up at him again with a tiny smile. It really was pleasant to see him this relaxed and carefree.

He fed you a strawberry truffle, leaving his index finger on your lips while you chewed, only to stroke your bottom lip after you swallowed. You broke physical contact first, sure the two of you were the subjects of greater scrutiny to whoever watched you long enough. 

“This is why I can’t be in public with you!”

Your companion’s face broke into a wicked smirk. “Still heeding what others may think?”

“If you’d be normal, I wouldn’t have this issue. Not everyone enjoys being at the centre of attention.”

Alucard’s eyes narrowed into slits, though the smile now split his face in half. He was up to something and you were worried to find out what.

He stood abruptly and extended a hand to you, which you hesitantly took with a suspicious side-eye as he lifted you to your feet and you dusted off imaginary dirt from your bottom.

“Would my lady care for a dance?” The hypnotic timbre to his voice distracted you from the question.

Your mouth fell open when it dawned after a moment. You just told him! Centre of attention!

A busker was playing the cello in the park, the sweet melody carrying far into the distance. You knew all the lyrics to this song’s instrumental version.

The vampire guided your left hand to his outer arm to form a closed hold, a playful glint in his scarlet gaze. “H-here? I can’t–” you protested.

He was already moving. It was as if he pushed you along for the first few steps and you faltered, still reeling from the turn of events, but the vampire held you steady. Stand up straight, support your own weight, maintain muscle tone. Keep your weight at the front of your feet. The ballroom teachings from a lifetime ago whispered from memory.

Alucard was an experienced dancer. He led you expertly with fluid motions, drawing you in and nudging you away with clear signals that made it easy to follow. You felt the connection between your bodies. You twirled when he lifted your arm in an arc, spun into his arm backwards when he willed it. You stepped in time to the same rhythm as the background faded.

One step closer.

The chords sang out harmonious and clear. He was speeding up. Gradually, you danced faster and faster, waltzing to the beat in Alucard’s mind, a whirlwind of feet and swirling trench coats under the afternoon sun. You stepped backwards quickly as he rushed forward boldly, all your attention given to him for you to keep up. As was his attention dedicated to you. 

Never once did he step on you, one of his feet was offset precisely between yours whenever he brought you flush with him. Never once did he look away from you or let you lose your balance. Who would have expected this wild beauty to be able to take his battle finesse and flow like water transformed by music? 

Only you and him existed in the world, the colours and promises of a future together swelling your chest with joy that was at last blooming from a once dormant seed, one that only began to sprout in recent times. Despite his annoying quirks, you could envision a lifetime with this man. The idyllic routine of late was not so bad.

The song was nearing its end. The vampire picked you off the ground by the legs, the other hand around your back and spun with you cradled in his arms effortlessly. Your shit-eating grin matched your lover’s.

You finished your dance with one last spin and you curtsied to the audience that gathered. Your heart beat fast as you laughed and jumped at Alucard, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss.

Please don’t let this end. You lost your reservations with the exhilaration, pressing your lips harder against the cool flesh and taking the time to breathe him in as the surroundings returned. 

Looking around, you heard cheers, whooping, and clapping for your performance as you caught your breath. That was so surreal, but it was actually a lot of fun.

The music of your laughter chimed in Alucard’s ears and mind, clear as a ringing bell and pure and indulgent. It was your jubilation in his chest, the innocent joy at being with him. There was a warm fuzzy feeling that flared as you caught his gaze again. Cupping the back of your head, his gaze grew tender and he leaned over to make doling out your affection on him easier on you. Your excitement wafted off your skin. His bangs formed a veil as he pressed your foreheads together and committed this moment to memory.

You were simply too precious for this world.

~To Be Continued~

Next Chapter- True Bravery

Notes:

The material goods Alucard uses are all luxury when it comes to weaponry, costing millions of pounds and a sizable dent in Integra’s budget. But Alucard can also be a minimalist and existed in less than Spartan conditions in the Hellsing basement before Reader. When it comes to his Reader, I think all Alucard would want is her time, touch, and her attention. He doesn’t need expensive gifts from her and would be displeased if she went out of her way to get something exorbitant for him. I actually wanted her to take Alucard to see a Broadway musical for a date, but writing a chapter following a live show’s plot and their interactions was too large of a task.

Reader is finally understanding Alucard's point whenever he declares that she is his and how it’s not a bad thing. It’s not merely a statement of possession, but also a promise.

Please read: Is anyone interested in reading some Vladcard bondage smut? I was staring at a pic of him and then BOOM! Horny! A potential Interlude 3 is brewing. Let me know either in the comments or on my poll to vote anonymously for a few more days. If this isn’t sexy, I’ll just keep my fantasy to myself, let it run wild, and continue with the storyline.

The above fanart is among my favourite images of Alucard that exists. It was created by the incredibly talented ケースワベ【K-SUWABE】 on Twitter (X). Thought it was perfect for the contents of this chapter.

[invsiblestrings]

midnights plot ideas

in honor of dr. swift's latest drop, here are *13* plot ideas based off midnights - 3 a.m. edition. there are some common themes from this album (imo) like learning to love again after heartache, maturing in relationships, wondering "what if?", and manipulating people & situations for better or worse. message me if you'd like to try any of these plots & feel free to reblog.

lavender haze: muse a has always put relationships and domesticity on the backburner, feeling torn between wanting a life partner and wanting to retain their own sense of self. muse b has always loved freely and never felt that happiness and connection were mutually exclusive. when they end up together, muse a has to figure out how to not get caught up in societal labels, timelines, and expectations - while muse b never had any expectations to begin with.

maroon: muse a and muse b met when life seemed simpler - shitty apartments & cheap wine in overcrowded big city apartments. it felt inevitable & easy falling in love then. but when muse a leaves the city & muse b can't (won't?) follow, it's time to see if their connection can survive distance, timing, sobriety, growing up, real life.

you're on your own kid: coming of age in the same small town, it seemed like muse a would always be around, so muse b never thought twice about getting around to finally acting on the simmering hot & cold connection they'd harbored for years. but muse a is getting older now, finding their footing in the world, and no longer content with always coming in last. will muse b ever get it together, or will they get left behind like their hometown?

midnight rain: the golden retriever/black cat trope. muse and muse b were so different, but they always said opposites attract, right? that is, until muse a got it in their mind to propose & muse b said... no. (champagne problems?..) just like that, it was over. and now muse b gets to watch muse a move on - new spouse, new life, and they try to believe they made the right choice all those years ago, but do the "what ifs" keep muse a up at night, too?

question...?: muse a and muse b had one chaotic, silly, perfect night together. for muse a, it felt like they'd finally made it out of the friendzone, like it was really the start of something. but then muse a learned that muse b had a partner all along, and maybe that night didn't mean to muse b what it meant to muse a after all, though they've never actually talked about it.

bejeweled: muse and muse b have been together for awhile now. they've traded the honeymoon phase and butterflies for contentment and routine. but muse a is getting a little too comfortable, and muse b feels forgotten and unappreciated, unsure if they can ever get back to that initial spark. maybe muse a just needs to be reminded of what they have - that muse b has options and can still command attention.

sweet nothing: after years of heartache & insecurity & betrayal, what muse a and muse b have found feels like home & safety & peace. it's the kind of connection that defies definition and makes no sense to the rest of the world and becomes the one thing muse a and b would do anything to defend. it's sacred.

mastermind: muse a and muse b are the ultimate "meet cute" success story. everyone says so. except that it wasn't divine coincidence after all - muse a had their sights on muse b for a long time, planned it all out in painstaking detail, and didn't give up until they could call muse b theirs. and the best part? muse b knew all along - let it happen - because they wanted it just as much.

high infidelity: muse a didn't realize that none of it - the house, the marriage, the picket fence - wasn't what they wanted until it was too late. or was it? now muse a is dipping dangerously into cheating territory and muse b is growing increasingly resentful as the gulf between them grows and grows.

glitch: muse a and b met and quickly became best friends, understanding each other in a way they hadn't found with anyone else. and muse b even became a sounding board for muse a's disastrous dating life horror stories. it worked because muse b was so totally not muse a's type. except one day, it's like a switch flipped & muse b is all muse a can think about, all they want. but how do they explain that to muse b, who so clearly wants to be just friends & has had to listen to all of muse a's flaws and failures?

would've, could've, should've: would it all have been different if muse a and muse b never met? could all the heartache have been spared? and if they could go back, would they even choose to do anything differently? because for all the tears and ghosts of memories and hitting each other where it hurts, there was no other love quite like it.

[diaphanouso]

To Burn in Desire's Name

I've been cooking up a Rolan fic for the last eternity few months, and I'm so excited to finally share a little snippet from it! It started out as a sex pollen one shot (and still will be), but it's gained sentience and grown into a series that will include a sequel following the growth of Rolan and Ruby's relationship with themes of religious sensuality (she's a cleric and I will be leaning into that 😉); a fairytale-style one shot of Ruby's backstory as a child taken and "raised" by a hag; and a gothic horror story about Ramazith's ghost 👀

Anyway, here's a bit from the first fic, To Burn in Desire's Name, in which Tav (Rolan won't learn her actual name until later) leaves a sending stone in Rolan's desk, and that's how they communicate after she leaves the city (snippet contains no explicit content; also please be nice this is my first Rolan fic and it's still an early draft ty😅):

-----❤️-----

Truth be told, he had come to live for these missives, to keenly welcome that most enchanting tingling in his mind, the firm, comforting weight of the smooth stone in his palm, the ghostly touch of copper filament, faint and delicate as a memory, and then: her voice, her laughter, clearer than his own thoughts, precious and intimate as a whispered secret.

This high, the air was as fresh as that in the gardens, the winds lending a slight bite to it. It had become a favorite place of late, a private, serene respite from all the goings-on about the tower. Up here, it was only Rolan and the falcons that wheeled above the city, their majestic wings forming a loose “M” as they rode the winds. Up here, he could let the stress fall from his mouth in a sigh. He could close his eyes, and he could open his mind, let Tav’s words roam freely.

Selune danced before the sun today… my soul still resonates from it

blackest night, but for a ring of brilliant gold — quite like your eyes

Rolan’s eyes fluttered open, bemusement creasing his brow. Selune danced before the sun…? What did it mean, and moreover, what did it have to do with his eyes?

He searched his mind. Other than what was relevant to his craft, cosmology had never been his strongest subject. Selune danced before the sun… Ah.

As a youth, he’d heard travelers spin tales of the moon passing before the sun, turning day to night. Back then, Rolan couldn’t conceive of such a thing, with Elturel's constant daylight. He’d known darkness, but only as something that occurred indoors.

The travelers had spoken of the phenomenon in hushed voices, their shuddering words suggesting terror and awe. But for Tav—and, likely, her fellow Selunites—it was Selune herself. Dancing. Rolan’s mouth tilted into a soft smile.

Tav’s message had had a hushed quality to it, too, but not from terror and awe. It was reverence and awe that Rolan had picked up in her thought-voice. She’d spoken of it like a sacred event. A gift from her goddess.

…and she’d compared his eyes to it. Not that that had to mean anything, of course, and truthfully, it had sounded like an afterthought. But… could anyone blame him if a blush blazed across his cheeks? Or if it called to mind that night at Elfsong a year ago? When Tav had paid him a compliment that made him smile any time he thought about it — which was often:

“I wish you could have seen yourself in that moment, when you rained arcane fury upon the bastard. You were righteous, incredible to behold, even fighting beside Dame Aylin.”

What came after, which he thought of just as often, also made him smile — and had provided Cal and Lia endless entertainment in the weeks that followed.

She leaned in close, and before he had time to recover from whatever alluring scent it was that she carried — honeysuckle? — she’d placed a soft, quick kiss on his cheek.

A kiss between compatriots, a polite peck that meant no more than a handshake or a clap on the shoulder. A brief, platonic gesture, nothing more.

Nevertheless, the tips of Rolan’s fingers found their way to his blushing cheek, where her lips had so briefly and platonically been.

[yakool-foolio]

What is Yuma Kokohead's Arc?

I talked about this a bit before, most notably and recently when asked about Rain Code's themes, so I can firmly say that Yuma's arc is mostly about accepting help from others so he doesn't have to bear the burden of his conflicts alone.

Before giving up his memories, Number One lived a life of solitude (whether he chose that life or not is up for speculation, but knowing the WDO it might've not been chose and rather was forced into to keep his identity hidden). He formed the pact with Shinigami partly because he yearned for a sense of connection to others that he never had before or was taken away from. He wanted to start fresh and understand what it felt like to solve mysteries with his allies, even if it meant leaving his amnesiac self in a bad spot (and all the other pretty bad stuff he let happen *stares at the Amaterasu Express Massacres*). So Number One gets what he wants in a way, but at the cost of putting himself and others through a lot of strife. All so he could finally confront his homunculus copy and teach him the very same lesson he had to learn himself.

Makoto doesn't have to shoulder the responsibility of Kanai Ward and its secret all by himself. He has the trust of the city's citizens behind him, willing to listen to him and help him out. Yuma provides Makoto the opportunity to work alongside those who trust him to find their own satisfactory solution, something that Number One never had.

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

ArShi SS: Crossing Boundaries

Warning: 16+, heavy themes on desire

Note: I watched the kidnapping track where they're just so desperate for each other hence this is the end result. And a little gift for the enthusiastic reaction to the Sobti interview!

(Psst, please do go over and paste your comments in the website as well!)

Chapter 1 | Imagination

The mind does not differentiate between thought and reality. If an athlete simply imagined that they were running across a field track, their mind was stimulated as if it were in reality.

Thus when Arnav woke up mid sleep, drenched in sweat, heart racing as remnants of a sinful dream faded with waking, he knew he had crossed the first boundary of whatever moral decency that existed.

Khushi in a modest red saree with a daring backless blouse with no room for a bra.

He knew that it would just take a flick of a finger to undo the blouse.

What if the saree hadn't been pinned?

He had seen the sliver of skin through the gossamer fabric.

The long lashes wet in the rain, lips quivering in confusion...

Could he assume anticipation? Damn it, he was losing his mind. Playing games with Khushi Kumari Gupta was no longer fun. At first he had foolishly thought that it was a battle of wits and he had been so entertained to put her through menial tasks, watch her intelligent mind get frustrated with the redundancy. She was close to making a mistake, to not finding a creative solution for the assignments.

It had taken him one day to realize her mind, and mouth, were as sharp as a razor.

Thus having her stand motionless, mute, with a coat all day was the masterstroke. He saw the way her eyebrows shot up when Liza hugged him, then why did it piss him further when she seemed perfectly unperturbed when Liza continued to harp praises on him. Why did he need to get her attention on him?

And since when had Arnav Singh Raizada fret over a nobody.

Fret. Arnav scoffed, he was wiser than that. Obsession was the truth. There was something about her, something that frustrated him to no end.

Because having anything with Khushi Kumari Gupta would change the fundamental outlook of his life. She valued love, marriage, commitment and would see lust in the bracket of sin.

Arnav flopped back in his bed, content with being exhausted enough to catch a few more hours of sleep.

Being attracted to Khushi Kumari Gupta would challenge his formative beliefs and there's no way he would be trading his foundation for a passing fancy.

Even in a hypothetical world, Khushi wouldn't change to fit in his life. She wouldn't ever be a safe bet.

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

Khushi couldn't risk fancying Arnav Singh Raizada. Fancy? Khushi sighed in defeat, twisting away in bed, unable to look at Payal's sleeping face nor Devi Maiyya.

She was bothered by her relief in staying back in Delhi. Of course staying back in the same city as Buaji meant the most, but he lived in this city too.

Something bugged her about Arnav Singh Raizada. It almost felt like if she spent another minute in his presence, something might happen.

Something that might fundamentally change Khushi Kumari Gupta.

Something for which she'd trade her strict upbringing and romantic dreams.

In the romantic novels she sneaked in at library, the term fancy felt closest. Because this couldn't be love. But it bore the symptoms of it all.

Yes, she wanted to see him again, yet run away at first sight.

Yes, he made her pulse go faster, as well as her nerves.

Yes, she had dreams where he caressed her hair in her sleep, and a reality where he'd push her buttons to the extremes.

The contradictions ruled out anything that could happen between them. But when she told she couldn't, no, wouldn't see him ever again, she wanted to stay back and look at the disaster on his face.

They had nothing, but it felt like she broke something.

Khushi closed her eyes, shivering at the wind brushing her hair across her forehead.

He stared at her, brushing the hair away. Once to see her, then again to caress her. She felt his strong hands rest on her skin as he carried her, lightweight. The sheer power in his physicality - the heat emanating from his skin or the eyes that just saw right through what she wore.

Imagination was worse than reality, Khushi concluded.

Reality gave one the excuse to state that one didn't anticipate crossing the boundary. But imagination revealed that one was yearning to cross it all along.

A/N: Let me know in the comments how you liked it. And yes this is prewritten and will be posted pretty soon unlike my other stories *cry* - Jalebi Tagging: @butaneandthebeast @shiyaravi @shaonsim @thenainitaldisaster @maansiloves @muttonthings @sapnokiduniyaisalwaysbetter @bengudill @myloveforstuff @laad-governess @laadgovernorandsankadevi @leila1 @lostafpanda @magicfeltmybloop @honeybellexox x @featheredclover @goals1024 @bigfatreader @simplycurlz @persephone-with-a-cat@sankititaliya @ijustchangedmyname @noor1025 @bitchy-bi-trash @thecharlesboyle @minpdnim @starzin8s @zaphbeeblebrox @white-thebeauty @bunnypassionsworld @scorpio-smiles @exosexosekai @whateverworks21 @chutkiandchotte (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

[theyellowstar]

Hi everyone here's my secret boss yaayyy (I'm totally not writing this on the last day)

*anyways,* meet scruffy!

yup, I told you the inspiration would be weird. scruffy is my chapter 5 secret boss for my take for the holiday Mansion dark world, and if you couldn't already tell: yes, he's based on that one hello kitty character (cinnamoroll)

his character, design and aesthetic choices are based a lot off of cinammoroll/sanrio in general.

his Item in the light world is - well, a cinnamoroll plush. or at least, the deltarune universe equivalent of that.

his speech quirk is meant to feel childlike/cute and innocent, although I'm not sure exactly what it would look like. it's a work in progress, mmk? <3

his soul mode is CYAN, but we'll get to that later...

Scruffy is teased in chapter three a couple times. My take has a very small area based off of kids shows, and the miniboss/minigames is based off of a comically obvious hello kitty parody. after you beat the minibosses (based off hello kitty, melody and kuromi respectively) they will open a shop, where they briefly mention how there was supposed to be a fourth member of the show...

scruffy is also teased by a cardboard cutout advert in the cooking district.

scruffy's dark world is the HOLIDAY WORLD, with the fountain being opened in the holiday mansion (aka the mayor/noelles house) I would love to talk about that dark world more sometime, but the general vibe it has is a "late night city in december" feel to it. anyways, scruffy can first be found at the waterfront, an area of the city overlooking the river. he then gets very attached to pretty much everyone, since he's so lonely. he assists you ever now and than In the chapter, opening up a shop and generally just keeping you company.

the secret boss fight:

Scruffy's fight is basically him having a massive panic attack. he realizes that you're going to seal the fountain and dosen't want to be alone again. when you reach the ice palace and are approaching the fountain, scruffy snaps and uses his magic to break the ice palace into two, preventing you from going further. the ice the party stands on starts floating away into the river, and the battle starts. (or something like that idk)

As I mentioned earlier, scruffys soul mode is CYAN. I'll be honest here: I based the Mechanic off of the mad mew mew fight but vision crew did that first. so it's basically the exact same soul mechanic as the cyan soul in vcdr. the heart splits into two halves and you are locked in a grid, but can move the halves of the soul horizontally and diagonally- kinda like a rythm game! think ddr

as for attacks, I have some very vague ideas, so I'll spitball them here. why not

cloud:

a raincloud with a sad scruffy face on it. it will rain down tears the player must avoid to not take damage.

floating hearts: hearts appear below the battle box and float upwards.

star wand: scruffy uses a star wand to call down stars at the soul.

plane: a plane bullet that will occasionally fly through the battle box

head bobbing attack: idk really how to describe this one, not sure what the pulled pattern would be but the "head bobbing" is simillar to that one attack from the uty flowey fight

SECRET BOSS THEME:

while I sadly am not a composer, scruffys boss theme would be pretty unique compared to other sb themes. It would highly be inspired by breakcore/vocaloid/ music, I actually made a playlist of the three songs that inspired me the most! check it out if you want

Listen to ch5 secret boss theme inspiration, a playlist by Theyellowstar2009 on #SoundCloud https://on.soundcloud.com/62Jvg

And that's about all I can show rn. I wish I could talk about his gaster trauma backstory and other stuff, but I'm already basically out of time. so that's all for now, byeeeeee

[t-nd-rfoot]

CWJBHN aka All That Jake Wants

Can we just be happy now? - Jake Scott, Josie Dunne

Summary Jake tries to help you see that you guys can be more than childhood best friends, even if it scares you

Pairing Jake Seresin x childhood best friend!reader

Theme fluff, slight angst in between

Warnings relationship/commitment anxieties, military relationship

Word Count 1.5k

Note Really wanted to try writing something from his POV, so this took awhile to figure out!!! I've been in love with this song since it came out. MAJOR coincidence that the artist's name just so happened to be Jake, but I thought this song fit him really well. And since the song this fic is based on is a duet, I'm thinking of releasing a version from reader's POV, so let me know in the comments if you'd want to read it!

Playlist

If you enjoyed this, please reblog! Reblogs are the best way to support creators (writers, artists, gif makers, everyone!) on this platform. Share the content, share the love!

“Quit it.”

“Quit what?”

“That.”

Jake couldn’t help it. He wasn’t even doing anything except looking at you from the passenger seat. But with the way you stole glances back at him—that playful look in your eyes as you tried and failed to hide your smile, he knew you didn’t mind at all.

“What do you mean? I’m just a mere passenger observing his surroundings, and I just so happen to be surrounded by…”

Ahead of him was a nearly clear sky, with few clouds above still from the afternoon rain. He looked to his right and and saw nothing but sea and sky. And as he turned to his left, he saw…

“…you.”

As cheesy as it sounded, he wasn’t entirely wrong; there really wasn’t much around you guys. But he knew what he meant. And by the way he saw you blush again, he knew you knew it, too. He cleared his throat to clear the lingering tension. “Where are you taking me, anyway?”

“Seriously? You don’t recognize this place?” you mused.

Finally taking his eyes off of you, he looked around and realized your destination. The light drizzle stopped just as you pulled over at the edge of a cliff, the exact cliff you had taken him so many times the last time he visited and stayed with you all those years ago after his first deployment.

It was about a month or so after he returned to the States. He blocked out two whole weeks to visit you in your new city—LA, of all places, so different from your mid-sized town in Texas, but he always knew since you were kids that you were meant for bigger things. This cliff was apparently your favorite place in the area, since you rushed him here instead of to your apartment where he could settle down, and the two of you spent hours on hours catching up. His two-week visit turned into one month, and hardly a day and an adventure passed by that you guys didn’t end up here.

And here you both were again nearly a decade later. Things picked up exactly where they left off, except this trip meant something more. He’s gone too long without you, and he was set on changing that. And with how the last couple of months went, things were almost falling into place.

Almost.

“You really didn’t think you’d leave again without one last hurrah, ‘Res?” you teased. His high school nickname never sounded sweeter, he thought.

The two of you had gotten out to stretch your legs. He took off his jacket to wipe down the remaining droplets on the hood of the car, making a place for the two of you to lean on as you admired the ocean view—a view he could honestly care less about when you were right there beside him. But still, he looked around trying to remember every detail he could.

“Man, I sure am gonna miss this,” he sighed.

“You’re going to get views like this everyday, even better ones. I’m kinda jealous.”

He scooted closer to you till your arms touched. “Yeah, but it’s not gonna be the same.”

“How so?” you asked, leaning into him.

He laced his fingers through yours, playing with it for awhile as you waited for an answer. He looked in your eyes before turning back to the ocean. “For one, I won’t have my burger fix while enjoying the view—”

Laughter immediately flew from your lips as you let go of his hand to elbow him in the side. He flashed his pearly whites at his own corny joke, always taking pride in being the only person to get that kind of laughter out of you. “If only there was a McDonald’s in the sky.”

“A fly-thru,” you played along, “Give it a few fifty years or so. You’ll be their very first customer.”

“Hell yeah, bring back taste to plane food.”

That one moment of normalcy ended as your laughs did. He doesn’t know how, but his hands found yours once again. “But seriously, Y/N, I don’t think I could look at that again without thinking about you,” he said, gesturing to the view in front of you.

“Jake…” you sighed and shied away from him. He lifted himself from the car and stood in front of you, one hand caressing your cheek, the other tucking your hair behind your ear.

This whole trip, he’s dropped little compliments and gestures implying something more. It started out light and playful; he didn’t want to overwhelm you right away. At times, you even reciprocated it. But time was running out; all he needed to know was that you felt something too.

“I know I should have said something sooner. But that’s what I’m doing now, and I’m not going to let another ten or twenty years go by without finally letting you know how I feel,” he confessed softly. He tucked his hand under your chin. “I’ll understand if this isn’t something you want, but give me one good reason why this wouldn’t work.”

The silence spoke for itself the longer you took trying to come up with an answer. He closed the distance between you even more, and when he wasn’t met with any resistance, he rested his forehead on yours. But he could still sense the tension in you.

“If we do this, you leave in two days. Then you’ll be gone for what, six, seven months? Maybe even longer? I don’t know if I can handle that,” you whispered.

“We’ve gone without each other for much longer,” he said.

“But that was different—this is different.” Tears welled up in your eyes. “I don’t wanna lose you, Jake.”

His heart ached to see you like this. Worry washed over him as he wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes. “You’re not gonna lose me, darlin’, I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” you argued back, “what if long distance doesn’t work? What if we do this and realize that we’re better off not being together? Things aren’t going to go back to normal. And you know my track record with relationships, Jake. I don’t wanna give you a reason to resent me if this goes badly. Or worse, something could happen to you out there and I’d never see you again.”

It was that last thing that drew a sharp breath in him. No matter how good he knew he was at his job, the realities of it was something he couldn’t escape. To subject you to that…

No.

He couldn’t afford to think about that right now.

His mission right now was to be with you, no matter how little time he got, and he’d be damned if he didn’t get to make the most of it.

If there was anything he learned about being a navy pilot, it’s to take your shot when you see it. He’s prepared if he misses, but it was better to take a missed shot than none at all, right? Now that both of you laid out your feelings on the table, there was no point in turning back.

He wrapped his arms around and pulled you against him, closing whatever little distance there was left between you. He placed his a kiss on your forehead, his lips soft enough to comfort you, but the kiss itself firm enough to assure you. You buried your head further into his chest as he stroked your hair.

He could have stayed with you like that forever, but the sun had almost started to set; the clock seemed to tick faster and faster.

He had to set things right.

Pulling away, he looked down at you, your eyes still glassy with uncertainty. “Look. I’m not gonna pretend that anything you said is impossible. But isn’t that all the more reason to try? To see if we can beat the odds? It’s not even an ‘if’ for me, Y/N. I know we can. With everything we’ve gone through together, how could we not?”

He watched as you struggled to form a reply, so he continued.

“If it’s the future that’s scaring you, then let’s not think about that now, if that’s what you want,” he assured you, still holding you gently. “We have 48 hours left together, and I don’t want to waste it. That’s 48 hours to just be…”

He wracked his brain, struggling to find the right words.

“That’s 48 hours to be happy. Can we—can we do that? Just be happy, right here, right now?”

His eyes pleaded for an answer. “Well, ‘Res,” you nodded softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “when you put it that way, how can I say no?”

Finally.

Relief didn’t even have time to wash over Jake’s face as he kissed you the moment those words left your mouth. He’s dreamt of this moment for years, but none of those dreams measured up to the real thing. It’s like he knew you both fit like puzzle pieces, your bodies molded together the deeper you kissed.

And that’s how both of you stayed, never letting go of each other as you watched the sun set over the horizon.

It was 48 hours well spent. Tears were inevitably shed as time ran out, but Jake was all smiles even as he departed. Sure, he was more than sad to go, but at least he knew this time—and for the rest of time—that his happiness didn’t have to end.

Disclaimer I do not own Top Gun: Maverick or any of its characters. I do not own CWJBHN by Jake Scott and Josie Dunne. Please do not copy my work or translate without my permission.

Edited tagline and layout

[zh-lele]

Oasis (Preview)

In a hostile environment or in a sequence of unpleasant situations, an oasis provides pleasure.

■Pairing: vampire!Doyoung x club dancer!fem reader x vampire!Johnny

■Genres: supernatural, horror, smut, romance if you want to call it like that (it's not).

■Warnings: mature themes; explicit sexual content, drugs and alcohol involved, guns, violence, death scenes and mentions of it, and some gore scenes. MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!

■Preview wordcount: ~2.5k words.

■Estimated wordcount for the full fic: idk I have like 19k words written so far so this gonna be a long one.

Author's note: hey every1 :) I've been working on this fic for sooo long and it's sooo long don't know when I'll finish it it's all planned out I really just gotta finish the last scenes. But I figured that if you all like this preview a bit I could post it in two parts or something like that. I know this preview won't show much, but I don't wanna spoil !!!!! cuz there will be a lot going on and I rlly like this story, and doyoung to me is like the supreme vampire so finally having him to be one in one of my stories--I'm excited. I hope I can do it justice. Anyway, you all know how it goes: if you like this, comment, ask me more about it, ask to be in a taglist, reblog, etc., etc.. I appreciate you, tysm for the love on my other fics !!!

.scene 01: words that will satisfy me

Lightning split the sky as the rain lashed the roof of the old bus, the drops seeping through the leaks, wetting the worn leather of its seats and spreading on the floor. You were lucky that public transportation was running that night and under those conditions, even more so considering that you had to be on time for your show at the casino—you couldn't afford to lose another night of work to torrential rains, even if it meant walking for forty minutes under the water from your house to the luxurious building.

The dirty streets of Seoul were already empty by the time you got off the bus, except for the old man you couldn't escape from even a single night arriving at the casino. While he wasn't inside, spending what was probably his last life savings on alcohol, drugs, and women (like most of the men you saw every night), he was living on the outskirts; under the big billboard of neon lights and on the fine and cold marble of the entrance serving as his refuge, along with a bed made of cardboard and an old, dirty mattress. Yuta kicked him out every night, especially the moment you arrived and he remembered the old man's presence due to the nasty comments he would give you, as you started up the stairs and toward the big golden doors.

Tonight was no different. Yuta left his position at the entrance as fast as he saw you coming and felt the old man open his mouth—although he didn't have a chance to say anything. As if Yuta could guess his intentions, he was in charge of throwing him in the hands of two high-security guards to the street and under that torrential rain; the homeless man's few belongings getting completely drenched, and causing the man to wail as he wandered off in search of a different place to spend the night. Only a series of what you assumed were complaints and curses came out of Yuta's mouth, in his native tongue.

Yuta lit a cigarette and didn't bother to return to his position. A quick wave of his hands was enough to have another man replace him, while he smoked under the cover of the water, resting momentarily from another night enriching his pockets in the largest casino in the city.

He opened his mouth to speak. A cold ran through your whole body at the same time that lightning struck right on the building across the street, highlighting the silhouette of the Japanese above the violent discharge. He squeezed then opened his eyes, already too irritated by all the interruption, to continue:

"Go upstairs. Dry yourself up and put on some other clothes. Doyoung wants to see you."

"But my show starts at two o'clock."

"Just do as I say."

You hurried to walk on the red carpet, passing between round tables and banquettes padded with burgundy velvet. The smell of alcohol mingled with that of fine perfumes and that of the money, scattered on each table among glasses, cards, and chips, and also kept in the pockets and wallets of the rich.

The back pocket of your black imitation of leather pants buzzed, so you reached for an old phone, its broken screen showing a message from Soyeon where she attached a picture of a ladder; the red neon lights of a "V.I.P." sign shone above it. You wondered why she was at the entrance to the third floor—an exclusive place that humans like you and Soyeon rarely frequented. So you quickly typed a message questioning what that photo meant before going downstairs.

The club was located below the casino and just above the parking lot. The stairs were marked with neon green arrows indicating floor -1 if you went down—your designated place of work. It was a very different world from the casino. While above the gold metal-edged bars gleamed in the warm light of huge chandeliers, below the place could barely be defined; cigarette smoke obscured what little vision the red lights dangling from the ceiling provided, and the confines of the club were lost in darkness, making it easy to get lost in that dive for hours.

The floor was slippery from the amount of alcohol that had already been spilled throughout the night, and you had to be careful not to trip or injure yourself on a dropped glass bottle. It was hard to move through the bodies that wouldn't stop dancing and pushing and gasping for breath as the club got more and more crowded. But still, you made it backstage and to the dressing rooms where you and the dancers were getting ready for the shows every night.

"Girl, you need me to do something for you?"

"Please," you begged while looking at the guy who shared the stage with you through the mirror. "Can you get my dress and my boots?"

Without wasting a second, you started working on your makeup. Red and black eyeshadow that accentuated your gaze, and a lipstick that was about to run out after so many nights of shared use—bloody red is what said on the side of its cover.

The boy returned shortly after with your clothes in one hand and a glass of liquor in the other. He lit a cigarette inside the small space while you changed, his eyes following your every move. Only the music coming from the club filled your ears until you opened the door ready to go out and he questioned you.

"Where are you going in such a hurry? There's still five until the show starts."

"Yeah, I know but…" you hesitated on telling him. It wasn't a secret amongst the human workers that you and Doyoung kind of had a thing—they knew you fucked from time to time, but you had no clue why he wanted to see you at that moment.

Doyoung managed everything and everyone at the club and knew your schedule like the palm of his hand. Work had always been his top priority as well, so you knew for sure he wasn't going to make you show up late on stage. Still, you didn't want to raise suspicions about anything, didn't want people to talk too much.

The boy—that was named Ten and was the second nicest person you knew as soon as you started working at the club—raised his brows at you, growing impatient, making gestures with both his hands for you to keep talking.

"Doyoung wants to see me," you finally concluded. "I don't know what he wants, but it'll be quick."

Ten only hummed and reached inside of his platforms, taking out a small blade and putting it in front of your face. His breath, which smelled like mint and whiskey, brushed your face while he talked. "Be careful." And he hid the blade inside one of your boots.

You gave him a nod along with a sympathetic smile and closed the door behind you on your way to Doyoung's office.

A long corridor connected the backstage dressing room to a mezzanine at the other end of the club. Suspended in the air from one side to the other, its tinted glass walls stretched to the roof of the club. Doyoung kept his office lit to a minimum, and the red lights outside it blocked all vision through the glass and into his office. This allowed him to have absolute control of everything that happened in his club, and to give orders without even having to get up from his chair.

You knocked on his door and looked above, at the corner of the corridor, letting the camera focus on your face. The door buzzed, indicating you were good to come inside.

Doyoung was sitting in his green velvet upholstered chair, facing the glass walls. A suit almost as pale as his skin accentuated his defined figure, even in that position. He turned to you, a welcoming smile adorning his face, and extended his left hand, the one not occupied with a glass feeding his tendencies, inviting you to get closer.

He called your name before holding your hand and bringing it to his lips. A soft kiss on your knuckles, which left them stained with a slightly thick red liquid. "I'll be brief since I don't want to delay us in our tasks, but I had to tell you this in person."

He set his glass down on his desk and moved you even closer, positioning yourself between his legs. He looked over your body with his gaze and dared to open the fine, shiny cloth robe that covered it. He caressed the curves of your hip and passed the palms of his hands over the micro tulle that covered your abdomen until he stopped below your breasts.

"You will dance on the third-floor stage tonight, along with Soyeon," he finally said, his clear eyes piercing your dark gaze. "Whatever happens there, you must tell me. Don't forget who you work for."

You swallowed dry. So Soyeon was at the entrance to the third floor because the two of you would be working there that night. Dancing for the vampires. Anxiety quickly took over your body, and you felt your hands and feet start to sweat. You were lucky Doyoung couldn't notice that temperature change, or he would have given you away.

"Won't you be there with the rest of them?"

This was not going according to your plan.

He denied it with his head. His hands began to move again, caressing your back and reaching the edge of your see-through dress. He lifted it, you felt the cold on your skin, and he squeezed both buttcheeks, awakening the lust within you.

He took a breath of air that inflated his chest, causing the emeralds that hung rimmed in gold around his neck to rise and fall. He moved you at his will until you were sitting on top of him, your sex barely covered by a thong that resembled black leather in contact with his bulge, and you had to make an enormous effort not to forget the plan and take him right then and there. Getting rid of Doyoung would be much more difficult than you had imagined.

"Don't forget who you must be loyal to."

.scene 02: this is not a threat

It is important to create eye contact with the audience when you are performing. That was never a problem at the club, with its stage right in front of Doyoung's office. And while you couldn't see him from your place, you knew that he was always watching you from above, so your gaze was directed most of the time towards his tinted windows. He helped your concentration and allowed you to focus on the dance. On the third floor stage, however, you felt quite lost; too many things happened there.

In the club, just a large group of mortals huddled under the smoke and red lights, paying little attention to what was happening onstage. In the vampires' cave, distractions were everywhere. The white lights that illuminated the stage blinded you from time to time but still allowed you to make out the scenes. Vampires sipping drinks at the bars, smoking around a game of poker, passing through heavy velvet curtains, going in and out of small cabins with humans who had a job other than yours. Some came staggering out of there, like drunk on something and wiping their lips, while others just came out arranging their clothes to resume their activities around a table or on the small dance floor.

But despite everything that was distracting, you were forced to make eye contact. You felt a presence, someone's gaze heavy on your figure, hidden in a dark corner of that exclusive area. The lights spun illuminating him for a split second, but it was long enough for his amber eyes to finally find yours. From that moment on, you felt attracted to the man as if you were magnets. You went down the stairs of the stage and walked between the chairs and tables, making some of the vampires who hadn't paid attention to you yet turn to look at you. Not for a second could you lower your gaze from his or focus on anything other than dancing for that man.

He was sitting in the middle of the round table smoking a cigarette, looking a little too relaxed for your liking. His white shirt was slightly ripped, revealing a barbed wire tattoo that stretched from clavicle to clavicle on his chest; below, on his right pectoral, a spider tattoo. Resting the weight of his body on a semi-extended arm holding a cane, looking too vampire-like under your eyes. His tattoos seemed to end on his both hands: a floral engraving on the back that contrasted with the phrase on his fingers: be afraid.

You got on that rounded table on your hands and knees, not caring about whatever game was going on between the rest of the men and the women who sat with him. You wanted to seduce him, that you knew. And he didn't seem to mind, because when a tall, blonde guy got up to protest, this man silenced him with a simple gesture of his hand. You thought it had to be a common thing amongst these vampires—they held so much power they didn't even need to use many words. So you danced the rest of your choreography for him, felt and touched your body as if your hands were his until the music ended and the lights turned on again.

Reality came down to you as if you were descending from the sky at miles per hour, and you landed on the ground in your black platforms after getting off the table. You felt incredibly out of place, yet an incessant throbbing between your legs and this man's gaze on you was sending your mind into a spiral. You had no idea what just had happened.

His deep voice cut through the air in that cave—like lightning from the storm outside the casino. A chill ran down your back for the second time that night when you heard his voice.

"No one tells Doyoung about this."

But he didn't mean it for the rest of the people seated with him—he knew they would remain silent.

He meant it for you.

The question is: who are you going to listen to?

[summercourtship]

stay to burn (only to drown instead): chapter one: water to tread [part I]

masterpost | ao3 link

jonathan crane x reader; bruce wayne x reader; edward nashton x reader | warnings: canon typical violence, sexual themes | word count: 4218 words

DISCLAIMER: these chapters are not meant to be read alone. not every chapter has content for one of the three pairings listed. this is an ongoing fanfiction that I am cross-posting here on tumblr, not a series of one-shots.

The rain in Gotham was poison on your skin, more acid than water as it hit the city’s streets. It wasn’t doing anything to wash away the grime. Instead, it made it bubble to the surface like a toxic stew of dirt and blood. But you’d lived here for long enough that you were used to it and paid it no mind as you quickly walked home, trying to ignore your water logged shoes and pitifully wet socks. It was much later than you liked being out but your sleazy manager still scheduled you for late shifts despite you repeatedly telling him why you aren't comfortable walking home in the dark.

“Get some pepper spray and don’t flatter yourself.” He’d rolled his eyes when you’d tried explaining, raising his eyebrow as he gestured to your body. You didn’t bother telling him you already had a canister of pepper gel (it’s better than pepper spray) in your purse. And your backpack. And the inside pocket of your usual coat.

You also didn’t bother bringing up Gotham’s stupidly high crime rate and the statistics of violence in the city, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good. You didn’t want to push too hard and end up out in the rain, jobless and soon to be homeless when you wouldn’t be able to afford your rent. And then you’d lose your ability to continue your education, and everything would just keep spiraling downward along the same trajectory until you’re a drophead and trying to bum dollars off the clients outside the Iceberg Lounge.

All of that to say that you had to watch what you said around your boss because you needed your job.

Half of the time, you were able to find someone to cover the night shifts over at the 24/7 convenience store but every now and then they couldn’t (or wouldn’t). And sometimes you decided to just grin and bear it for the money. The shop was understaffed anyway and they made you feel like shit for not being able to work every waking second, even though you explained time and time again why you didn’t want to walk home after eight P.M.

But they thought it would be “special treatment” to only give you the shifts you wanted to work. Or they told you that with the extra money you made you could just order an Uber. But the prospect of getting into a random car was more nerve wracking than the idea of walking home alone at night. So you picked the lesser of two evils and walked.

So, that’s where you were at.

It was better, anyway, to brave the walk home than to be on a bus or in a cab by yourself. At least you could run if something bad happened to you out here. It felt like every other day now there was a bus or train jacking for some asinine reason and you really didn’t want to have to deal with that.

As you walked down the street, you subconsciously adjusted the hood of your rain jacket, but whether you were trying to hide your identity or shield yourself from the rain, it was futile.

Your face was dripping wet, and you were being watched.

You didn’t notice exactly when watching became following (always be aware of your surroundings, but there’s too much to be aware of in Gotham city that you’re bound to miss something), but soon enough you were more than aware of it. A hot itching feeling at the base of your neck started, sending a wave of heat and anxiety over you as you glanced in a passing window to confirm what your mind had been whispering at you.

Three men were following you.

One short and stocky, one tall and gangly. The third, middle one, being completely unremarkable- which is why he scared you the most of the three. It was always those ones who were the most dangerous.

When you stopped at an intersection for the crossing signal to turn in your favor, you glanced around you. Cars sped by, their tires disturbing the permanent puddles on the road. If you were attacked now, would anyone stop? Or would they chalk you up to another number in Gotham’s ever increasing violent crime statistic?

The men had stopped after you halfway down the block, keeping their distance behind you. You allowed yourself to, for a moment, entertain the notion that you were just being sensitive and jumpy. That nothing would happen and you'd get back to your wonderfully warm and horribly cramped apartment with a sigh of relief when you realize that your paranoia had gotten the best of you again.

But in this city, paranoia is akin to safety.

You spared another glance behind you, pretending like you were just checking out the closed lingerie store you had stopped next to while you were waiting for the crossing signal to change. They were leaning against the brick of the next shop down and goosebumps ran down your arms when you saw them looking your way. Really, they were leering and the way they did was enough to set off every alarm bell in your head. Adrenaline burned over your skin as your brain went into a quiet frenzy, trying to figure out how to get out of the situation as safely as possible.

Realistically, you had three options:

Option one: run. (but you must also consider the possibility of falling, being hit by a car if you didn’t look carefully enough, or still being overpowered by the men.)

Option two: fight back. (the option most likely to end with you dead, if you’re being honest with yourself.)

Option three: ??? (there was no option three.)

Turning back to the crosswalk you jolt forward as the little LED man giving you permission to cross the street flashed at you. You quickly crossed, not even checking the street to ensure cars had actually stopped coming. Being hit by a car was the least of your worries (at least they could pay off your student loans).

Sneaking another glance behind you as you rushed onto the other sidewalk, barely sidestepping a large puddle, your heart sunk in your chest when you saw the men start following you again, their dark eyes trained on you like a predator stalking its prey.

Without a second thought, you started running, pressing your way past all the other people walking home. You didn’t even apologize when you jostled them too much and they didn’t seem to care. Really, they barely paid you any mind, adopting the typical attitude of Gothamites: it’s none of my business; I didn’t see anything; I don’t want any trouble.

Always content to stand back and watch, never concerned enough to do anything about it.

You could feel rather than hear your socks squelching in your shoes as you ran through puddle after puddle. You twisted your body, sliding your backpack around to your front. If you could just get your pepper-gel out of your bag, maybe you’d have a chance of escaping this relatively unscathed. Shoving your hand into the front pocket, you fumbled around inside, not caring when your hair ties and period products fell onto the sidewalk. They are replaceable.

Finally, your hand wraps around the familiar canister, your thumb immediately turning it so it was ready to deploy. You should have done this from the moment you left the convenience store but you’d been so ready to leave and so tired that you trusted your luck a little too much.

You’re close to your apartment by now but you won’t risk leading them to your home- your sanctuary. Instead, you make the hasty decision to duck into an alleyway between a diner and a bike shop- both closed for the night. Pressing your back against the dirty brick, you breathe slowly, fighting against your body’s instinct to pant in exhaustion.

You knew that the men were still following you, and that they definitely saw you go into the alley- there were not enough people on this street to hide your movements. All you could do was wait for the light spilling into the alley from the street to be blocked.

You didn’t have to wait a long time- within thirty seconds the slow, wet stomps of boots on the sidewalk drifted into the alley. You held your arm out, desperately trying to keep your grip from wavering.

The second you saw one of the men, you pressed on the trigger of the pepper-gel, but clearly luck wasn’t on your side as it jammed just long enough for the man to rush towards you and knock it out of your hand. It sputtered as it landed in a puddle, useless and dead. The tiny canister hadn’t given you much hope, but even now that was dashed.

The shortest of the men shoved you against the wall, ripping your bag away from where you’d been holding it like a shield against your chest. He threw it to the one who knocked your pepper-gel out of your hand, who immediately began searching through its contents.

The short one slammed you against the wall again, knocking the wind out of your chest, bringing his knee up into your stomach before you could catch it again. You crumpled in on yourself, pulling out every ounce of strength you had to keep your feet steady on the ground. You’re brought back into reality when the tallest man comes behind you and holds you still against him. You lift your impossibly heavy head to stare at the short one, daring him to do what his sleazy smile was implying.

But the man only rears his hand back and punches you across the face.

Pain blossomed from the moment his knuckles met your cheek, an involuntary cry escaping your mouth along with a glob of spit. The man holding you readjusts his grip on you, his arms hooked under your armpits. As soon as you’re able to bring air back into your lungs you renew your struggle against his grip, trying desperately to jab your elbow against the sensitive flesh of his stomach or into his side. Anywhere that might cause him to release his hold on you.

You knock your head back, trying to look up into his face to see if he was bothered yet or if he still had that same self-satisfied grin on his face. But your eyes slip right past his grimy complexion.

Instead, through the sheets of water falling from the sky, through the lights of the buildings, your eyes focused on the clouds. Or rather, what was being projected onto them. It didn’t appear every night but tonight it seemed that somewhere, someone in Gotham needed him.

You certainly did.

“What’s this?” A rough voice broke your focus, wrenching your attention away from the signal in the sky. The one who’d been pawing through your bag held up two thick bundles of money, tied together with rubber bands. You closed your eyes, heart sinking, head dropping against the tall one’s chest.

“Shit!” The tall one laughed at the sight, his chest hitting your back with his boisterousness. But you know it's really not that much cash, maybe $350, certainly not enough to warrant the beating you’d already received. Singles and fives stack up quickly.

You wonder if they’ll be disappointed when they count it out and see it’s not even enough for a month’s rent in this city.

“Now what were you doing to get this?” The stocky one swept his gaze up and down your body, fingers twitching like he wanted to touch you too. “And how much for one night?”

You knew what he was insinuating, but in reality your boss was just shit at paying you everything you were owed on time. Every month or so you’d finally ask him about it and he’d just reach into the register and give you cash. Did it feel illegal, or at least extremely shady? Yes. But you needed the job and you were just getting what you were already due from your work. He’d be in more trouble if he withheld anymore from you than he already did.

“Give it back.” You struggled to get the words out, water and blood pooling on your lips. You tried to wiggle your way out of your captor’s grip again but he didn't let go.

“I don’t think so, whore.” He drops you to the ground, your hip hitting the concrete with a wet thud, landing in a questionably dirty puddle. He swiftly kicked you in the stomach, forcing a wheeze out of your lungs. You curled in on yourself.

The man was rearing up to kick you again, and you wondered if he’s actually aiming for your stomach. In a flash, you can see him missing and instead kicking your face in. You were so certain that this would be what was about to happen that you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the worst pain you would ever feel.

But the kick never comes.

Instead, you hear a deep thud followed by the obvious rustling and scuffing of boots on pavement. Then, the dull sound of punches landing on clothed skin, hushed threats spoken in a low voice.

The men aren’t laughing anymore.

“Go.” It’s not a familiar voice, certainly not any of the three men who’d attacked you. But it couldn’t be who you’re hoping it was, right?

Your bag lands beside you and from the sound of it, it was pitifully empty as the men ran away, almost splashing through the rain in their hurry to leave.

You open your eyes, blinking in the warm light of the streetlamp. You keep your gaze focused on the bricks, watching a soiled band-aid float across the puddle you were currently laying in. Gross.

Two black combat boots stepped into the circle of light, raindrops rolling off the leather onto the pavement.

So it was who you thought it was.

“You’re a bit late,” you cough, grimacing as you attempt to lift yourself. The man says nothing, which is about as much as you expected. You’d read all about him, the masked vigilante running around, trying to save Gotham.

You finally managed to push yourself into a seated position, your clothes now so thoroughly soaked you didn’t mind sitting in the puddle while you attempted to gather your thoughts. You don’t think you could actually stand right now anyway.

“They took my money.” You sighed, more to yourself than to him. “That was like, 30 hours of work.”

How the hell are you going to feed yourself for the next two weeks?

“You shouldn’t be out walking at this hour.”

You finally look up at him, the Batman, narrowing your eyes. Out of all the things he could say, he chose that? You don’t allow yourself to be starstruck, astounded by his overwhelming presence in front of you, instead choosing to be indignant about what he said. How removed from reality it was. You can’t read his expression, what with most of it covered by that mask of his. Maybe he regrets what he said, but it’s just as likely that he sees nothing wrong with it at all.

“I’m going home. I work late.”

Once again, he didn’t say anything, simply watching as you pulled yourself onto your feet. Your footing was shaky but you didn’t feel like you would keel over, at least not immediately. You could make it the few blocks to get back to your apartment.

Then your knee gave out from under you and you’re about to fall right back over when he steadied you with one gloved hand on your upper arm.

Your heart jumps in your chest, any annoyance that you had felt dissipating at his touch.

“Let me help you home.”

His voice cut through the silence between you. Wouldn’t it be nice to be escorted home by the man who saved Gotham on a regular basis? But a moment later your ears pick up the faint sound of a siren in the background and you shake your head, waking up from the awed stupor his presence had put you in.

“I think you’re needed elsewhere.” Bending down to pick up your soaked and empty bag, you gave him a soft smile. “That probably wasn’t for me.” You gesture to the signal in the sky, still projected onto the clouds. You’d always wondered who kept it lit, who decided when the Batman was needed and when he could stay in. As far as you knew, the crime of Gotham never ended. He was always needed.

“Thank you for the offer, though.” You stopped, frowning when you realized that only seconds after you’d finished speaking he had disappeared once again into the shadows.

The rest of your walk home saw your thoughts preoccupied, almost getting hit by a black sedan you’re so distracted.

The Batman had saved you. You! Somebody whose body, if it ever became just a body with no life in it, would’ve barely made a line on the fifth page in the next day’s news.

You moved like a zombie, ambling and slow, through the streets, only waking up from your daze when you arrived at your building. Old bricks with moss clinging on them towered above you, the buzzing light above the main entrance flickering.

Your apartment itself was small, sandwiched in the middle of a hundred year old building that showed its age in the worst ways. The apartment had clearly been renovated at some point to give the main space a more open floor plan, but aside from that it was pretty much exactly as it had been when it was built. Uneven door frames, cracked window panes, creaky floors. But it was your home, your safe haven in this godforsaken city.

Thrusting open the door with a decidedly unladylike grunt (your key got stuck half of the time), you threw your keys on the counter and your bag onto the floor. To your right when you entered was your kitchen, which consisted of nothing more than a few counters in the corner of the main room, complete with a stove in the middle and a fridge on the end of the row. A few nondescript magnets held papers on the fridge- grocery lists, greeting cards, your schedule, a brochure from the Gotham Museum of Fine Art.

You immediately made a beeline for your kettle, filling it with water and perching it back on the stove. In the back of the cupboard is a dusty Bella Reál campaign mug that you should really throw away but can’t bring yourself to. You don’t pick it though, instead pulling out an old Christmas mug. Turning and rummaging through your pantry cabinet, you pull out a well-worn box of Sleepy Time Tea that had been your saving grace this past year.

“God, I wish I was you.” You murmured to the tiny bear on the packet before ripping it open and throwing it into the Christmas mug.

It’s almost November. Close enough. (And you broke your only Halloween mug last week.)

As you waited for the kettle to boil, you moved to the section of the room that you have designated as your living room and office space. Against one wall was a desk with your laptop still open on it, various textbooks, and random documents scattered on its worn surface. Directly next to it (at an uncomfortably close distance, sometimes) was your TV stand with the world’s smallest TV sitting off-center. More books were stacked next to it, ranging from history textbooks to self-indulgent paperback romances. Barely six feet from the TV stand was your couch, and just behind that, with barely any walking room, was a sliding glass door.

You glanced outside the windowed door to your balcony- which was a glorified fire escape, really- and almost shrieked when you noticed a large black silhouette. Heart racing, you yanked open the door, grunting as sticks slightly in the middle. Mustering the most of your strength, you heaved it the rest of the way open.

“How did you find me?” You asked immediately, not stepping away from the doorframe, from the comfort of your warm apartment.

“I have my ways.” The Batman was mostly hidden in the shadows, only the light reflecting off the tiny droplets that had collected on his suit differentiating him from the darkness.

“That didn’t answer my question.” Really, it only raised more. But he didn’t say anything else, so you just sighed and crossed your arms, wincing as the movement sent pain across your skin. “Why are you here?”

Typically, you wouldn’t be this standoffish, even with strange vigilantes that showed up unannounced on your doorstep. But you were tired and had had a rough night- you could say with confidence that it was one of the roughest you’d ever had. Honestly, you just wanted to curl under your duvet and take a nap for three days.

You raised your eyebrows at him, daring him to be the next to break the silence before you realized that he was holding something out to you. It took another second for you to recognize what it was.

Money.

It was crumpled and it was wet but it was money.

“Is… is that mine?” You reach out to take it from him, but he doesn’t let go of it yet. You’re tethered to him, connected by a wad of damp and dirty cash. But you can’t let go of it, you can’t risk him leaving and taking your hard-earned money with him (though you doubt he would do that, given that it's yours).

“What did you do for it?” His voice is quiet in the night air, barely audible over the rainfall and whoosh of cars five stories down below. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Honest work, I swear.” You looked up into his eyes, almost glowing in their darkness, hidden being the mask and a layer of dark paint. You wondered, in the event you ever saw him again, if you would be able to tell what color they were. “A 24/7 corner store, the one on Swift and Broad. My boss just… sucks at paying me.” On time or at all.

He released his hold on the money. You immediately draw your hand back into your personal bubble, cradling the bundle of cash against your chest as if it will disappear again. Who knows, maybe one of those insane city pigeons would swoop down from the sky and snatch it from you to use in their nest.

“Thank you.” You broke eye contact with him, looking at the bundle in your hands instead. “I’m sorry to have put you through this trouble. I’m sure there were plenty of other things to do tonight… Other crimes to stop and all.”

Ever since the Riddler’s murder spree last year, Gotham’s criminals really seemed to up the ante. Sure, before, there’d be a few weirdos every couple of years but now… now it seemed like everyone was trying to outdo one another. All vying for Batman’s attention.

If you weren’t so unnerved by it all, maybe you’d laugh. But instead, all you could wonder as each criminal was taken down and into custody… What now? Which nightmare would emerge from the shadows next?

“It was a slow night.”

“Well, I’m glad it was.” I would have been killed if you hadn’t found me.

“Clean your wounds before they get infected.”

“I will, don’t worry.” You both stand there for a few more moments, before the screech of your kettle breaks the silence. You turned to look into your apartment, sighing. “Do you want-”

But when you turn back to the balcony he’s gone, the droning of the rain suddenly deafening.

“-To come in.” You finish lamely, not even knowing what you would’ve done if he’d stayed and said yes. The mental image of him sitting in one of your mismatched chairs at the table was funny but incompatible with reality.

No, him leaving like this was better. You’d never see him again and would just remember the night where he saved you, perhaps think about it- reminisce, like a little old lady- when you saw him on the news.

You closed the door again, locking it and pulling the curtain closed. The familiar, anxiety-inducing smell of money wafts up to you and you put the roll on the small table by the sliding door, your makeshift kitchen table that saw more use as a catch-all table than as an eating surface.

When you count the money later, you may have noticed that there was more in the pile than you’d thought before. And you know for a fact that your boss would rather die than pay you more than what you were owed.

It seemed that Batman was more generous than he came across.

Sighing, you pushed aside the extra amount (almost $200 of extra amount), deciding that if you ever ran into him again, you’d make him take it back.

After all, you were beginning to suspect he hadn’t tracked down the thieves in the first place.

part two

[ask-a-bot]

So, I’ve asked what your favorite landscape is, but What are y’all’s favorite places to visit here on Earth? Are there any cities, towns, or parks (National Parks like Yellowstone or Glacier National Park) you have or would like to visit in the future?

Loch Ness is very beautiful. Yet it is still quite a lot like the places I'm familiar with in America. Obviously, the plants and animals are different from Pennsylvania, but both have pines, mountains and rain. Scotland has eagles, too – golden eagles and ospreys (fish-eating eagles).

I think the Highlands are more like Tarn. From what I recall, anyway. Lots of open space. The only difference is that Earth has water; Cybertron had oil. I like it here. I like the moors of Scotland and Yorkshire. I would like to see more of this planet.

I've been everywhere that has a racetrack! All over America, Continental Europe, the Philippines, the Isle of Man...

You were supposed to be hiding!

I stayed hidden.

You put yourself in danger, which was bad enough. You also put Dot and her family in danger as well, which is far worse.

Everything worked out and I won't do it again.

You smell of human puke because you still are unable to control yourself.

That was Hot Rod's idea! Besides, I didn't say I won't race – I meant I won't disobey you ever again.

Hmmmmm...

It wasn't my idea.

I am sure Optimus knows, young one. Tell us... are there any places on Earth you would like to visit?

Theme parks! Funfairs! I want to try all the rides! Then maybe we could take a few designs back to Cybertron or something.

How... wonderful.

I wanna see all of it – as much as I can! Dot was telling me about marine centres and aquariums the other day. I'd like to see one o' those for a start.

Marine centres, you say?

There are places like that with rare birds in them! I want to go to one of those. And a science museum! Oh! And a normal museum. I want to learn!