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sundaysundaes · 4 years

Text

Love Bites

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

Summary: Supernatural creatures don’t scare you, so when the cute neighbor who lives just across the hallway offers you a chance to move in for cheaper rent, you agree in a heartbeat--even when he consumes human blood on a daily basis.

Warnings: Smut, vampire sex, sex in front of a mirror, blood sucking, unprotected sex, slight choking. For the sake of the plot, Y/N is slightly intoxicated in this fic (drunk sex). Please don’t read this fic if this makes you feel uncomfortable. I also don’t approve nor allow taking advantage of your romantic partner while they are under the influence of alcohol.

Supernatural things don’t really scare you. Growing up in a family that tells urban legends and mystical myths as bedtime stories makes you feel somewhat reserved toward spooky stuff, to the point that you won’t even bat an eyelash during a jump scare at literally any scary movie out there. It’s not like you’ve seen any supernatural creatures with your own eyes but you believe in their existence, especially when you live in a town where freaky things happen on daily basis.

You’re not sure about werewolves and zombies, but vampires do roam the earth the second the moon replaces the sun. It’s not merely a rumor anymore, it’s a fact. But they keep their presence in secret, trying to act as humanly as possible so they won’t gather unnecessary attention. And since no one has found any dead bodies with bite marks or severe blood loss, people don’t really identify them as a threat. You perceive things in a similar way. As long as they don’t bother you, then you can co-exist in peace. That’s what you believe.

So when you visit your neighbor in the middle of the night, the cute guy—probably still in his early twenties—who lives just across the hallway, you figure you’ll see him smiling back, maybe even offer you a cup of coffee out of courtesy. Now, you don’t usually barge into someone else’s apartment even when the front door is unlocked, but seeing how the two of you are already on a first-name basis, always greet each other with a nod whenever your eyes make eye contact, you think to yourself, “Yeah, he wouldn’t mind if I come in, would he? What’s the worst thing that could happen? He’s too cute to be a serial killer anyway.” Which, you realize soon enough, was a poor, terrible logic on your part.

But you turn over his doorknob with a click and invite yourself in.

So clearly, you do not expect to see him sitting bare-chested on the couch with his girlfriend’s legs hooked around his waist. Clearly, you do not expect to see his hand yanking at the roots of her hair, forcing her to expose the column of her neck and making her call his name in the most wanton moan you’ve ever heard in your life—even if you’ve had a fair share of watching porn movies (for research purposes). And you most clearly do not expect to see him sinking his canines deep into her skin, not caring when trails of blood start to taint her bare shoulder and groaning in bliss as he relishes the taste of her blood.

So naturally, the only thing you can think of is:

Oh shit.

“Wait!” A hand finds its way to tangle around your wrist when you slip behind his front door to run back to your own. His icy cold skin makes you flinch in surprise but you keep your face still. As you turn around to see the owner, you’re greeted by the sight of him with his eyes turning as dark as the night. His brunette hair is made of curls and waves, seems unbelievably soft and silky with bangs almost covering his eyes. His lips and cheeks are smeared with fresh blood, possibly from trying to wipe his mouth in hurry with the back of his hand. His fangs are no longer shown and although he seems breathless, you can tell he’s not breathing from how still his chest is moving (but you’re too distracted with the sight of how toned it is). His black jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips, unbuttoned but not yet unzipped, and it’s harder for you to not stare at his v-lines compared to the amount of blood that painted his lips.

Trying to act nonchalant, you simply ask, “Yes?”

“This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, so you’re not a vampire drinking blood from your girlfriend’s neck?”

He gapes, eyes growing wide, before, “Okay, then it is what it looks like.”

You retract your hand, giving him a formal nod. “Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, as in, no problem. You have a kink. I understand.”

“No, I mean—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, somewhat dizzy from your reaction. “Why are you so calm about this?”

You frown. “I’m confused. Would you rather have me freak-out and tell our landlord that you’ve been spilling maiden’s blood on his carpet?”

“Well, no, but—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Also, I’m a professional. I don’t leave stains.”

“Congratulations, I’m impressed.” You clap your hands twice, face blank. “Well anyway, I guess I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to sneak into your apartment without permission and disturb your…” You scratch your cheek, attempting to find the right word. “Late night snacking time—”

“Oh, God.” He rubs his palm over his face but before he can protest any further, his lover is calling him from the inside of his room.

“Lee Donghyuck, come back to me. I haven’t come yet.”

You stare flatly at him, trying not to look as judgmental as possible but most likely failing terribly at it. “She sounds nice.”

He mirrors the look on your face. “Yeah well, she tastes nice.”

“Ugh, too much info there, buddy.”

“No, I mean, her blood, not—” You’re not sure whether vampires can blush but this one surely seems like one. “Why did you even come here again?”

“Oh, that’s right.” You remember. “This is totally cliche and I wish I could say a better excuse but I was making coffee and ran out of sugar. Do you have some I can borrow? And maybe some cream?”

“Seriously?” It’s supposed to be a sarcastic response, but when he sees you nodding your head, he adds, “Do I look like I drink coffee in my spare time?”

“You spend eternity without drinking coffee?” You gasp, laying a hand on your heart. “I feel sorry for you.”

“Leave. Please.”

***

On the next evening, you find yourself crossing the hallway and knocking on his apartment’s door again. Knowing how patience has never been one of your virtues, you try to turn his doorknob after your third knock. Like last night, it’s unlocked with a click so you invite yourself in, calling his name.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you here—”

“I really need to fix that stupid lock.”

The sound of his voice startles you when he suddenly walks into view, but not as much as the sight of him with a white towel hanging around his neck, his wet hair dripping water to his bare chest, and another towel wrapped around his waist.

He notices you’re staring so with a small smirk, he comments, “So you’re fine seeing me with human’s blood on my face but completely left in shocked when I’m half-naked?”

You put your best effort to act unfazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You do know us vampires can tell when you’re lying, right? We can hear your heartbeat.”

“And yet, you didn’t hear me coming into your apartment last night.”

“I was…” He narrows his eyes. “Distracted.”

“You mean you were too horny to notice.”

“You—” He exhaled loudly, perhaps a habit he invented to make him seem more human. “Why are you here again today?”

“Can’t I greet my neighbor?”

He snorts loudly but walks away, throwing himself on the couch. “Seriously, why aren’t you surprised about this?”

“About you being a vampire? Or about your God awful taste in women?”

“Yeah?” He mocks back, making a face. “As if your boyfriend Mark Lee is any better.” When he sees a blush blooming on your face, he snickers. “Enlighten me, Sweetheart. How does it feel to have a lover that only last for one minute during—”

“Okay, I’ll take my words back. Everything. Can we move on, please?” You try to yank yourself back to your normal state, even when you feel downright ashamed. “So, this vampire thing. How long have you been a vampire?”

“Long enough.”

“How old were you when you first turned?”

“Young enough.”

“How often do you drink human blood?“

“Often enough.”

You glare at him, earning a sly grin in return. “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?”

He sends you the best serious expression he can manage. “Serious enough.”

“Right, okay, I’m leaving. Have fun being an asshole for eternity.”

But the second you turn around in your heels, Donghyuck is already on the other side of the room, closing his front door and leaning his back against it. “Now, now, you come in as you please, uninvited. You don’t think I’ll let you go just like that, right?”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you want?”

“I think it’s something that we both want.” He steps closer, voice sounding smooth and alluring. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”

You gulp, suddenly becoming nervous. He’s an arms reach away, and then closer, and closer until you can feel his cold fingers tracing against your cheekbone, lifting your face so his eyes are locked with yours.

“I’m—” You can feel your breathing starts to stutter. “I’m not giving you my blood.”

“But it’s not blood that I want from you.” His eyes are half-lidded, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about this so much lately.”

Your heart feels like a ticking bomb inside your chest. “A-about what?”

“About our rent. Do you want to move in together so we can split the rental fee?”

***

It’s both ridiculous and dumb, his offer to move in together for cheaper rent, so it’s even more ridiculous and dumb when you agree to it. There are several reasons that make sense, actually—at least, to you anyway: 1) your neighbor may be a vampire but he’s super hot and although that doesn’t make everything okay, it does make his offer sound incredibly tempting, 2) your landlord is going to raise the rent in the following two months, 3) your part-time job’s salary can only cover so much of your living cost and you have no savings whatsoever, 4) if you can ignore the fact that he brings random girls at night for midnight snacks, he becomes much, much hotter.

Of course, there are risks to think about as well. Sharing a place with another person can bring trouble, so you can only imagine how troublesome would it be to share your home with a vampire. What if he gets too thirsty and starts drinking from you instead?

You gulp. The thought of it is actually kind of… sexy.

Mark. You mentally slap yourself in the head. You have a boyfriend. Stop crushing on your damn neighbor.

Well, there is nothing serious going on with Mark actually. You guys were just lab partners in high school, went on a couple of dates, had a terribly awkward first kiss, had a heavy make-out session with him ejaculating under one minute when you dry-humped him on the couch of your living room.

So yeah, nothing serious.

“My apartment or yours?” You ask after a week has passed by, the second he opens his door for you. “Your apartment is bigger, but mine is cleaner.”

“Whatever you want, Sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t mind as long we can split the fee.”

“Yeah, why is that? You’re running out of money?”

His smirk instantly falters. “Well, it’s not exactly easy for vampires to get a job these days.”

“You literally have superhuman skills.”

“Well, you guys have the technology!” He throws his hands in the air, absolutely disgusted with the word by the sight of it. “And the Internet! Sure, I can run pretty fast, I have super hearing, I can see in the dark but these fucking technologies can do literally everything I’m capable of—and everything I’m not capable of—with only a few clicks!”

“Do you need a hug?”

He’s still pouting but shrugs. “Can’t hurt.”

“There, there.” You give him a pat on his back as he leans down so you can reach his height. “I’ll teach you some basic stuff to get you updated.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll get through this.” You pull away, squeezing his shoulders. “So, about moving in together. Shall we talk about house rules and stuff?”

“Sure, but before that,” he smiles, opening his door wider for you. “Come in. I don’t bite.”

It’s something about him using that poor choice of words with that teasing smirk on his face that makes your stomach feel uneasy but you nod and let yourself in. As he closes the door, he adds, “Unless it’s what you’re into.”

“Getting my blood drunk by a vampire?” You scoff, trying to steady your racing heart though he can probably tell already. “Why would it be something I’m into?”

“Well, my ladies surely enjoyed it,” he chuckles and you secretly think to yourself, yeah because you’re fucking hot, that’s why, but you keep yourself ignorant on the outside. “But if you’re ever curious,” he coos, eyes nearly glowing as he pushes his bangs back with one hand, “I’m down anytime you want.”

You shudder, but from disgust or excitement, you’re not sure. “Thanks, but no thanks. So, house rules?”

***

It turns out to be shockingly easy to share an apartment with an undead creature of the night. Your source of information regarding vampires are from the collection of your young adult supernatural novels, ranging from something serious like Interview with The Vampire, to something mediocre like The Vampire Diaries, and something absolutely ridiculous and downright outrageous like Twilight. So it’s not really surprising when your first assumption of vampires are dead people who look unusually pale but strikingly attractive, have constant frowns on their faces as they brood over literally everything that’s happening as if they’re constipated all the time (they’re not, since vampires don’t have that bodily function anymore) and kill people in their spare time by sucking their blood dry.

But Donghyuck isn’t like that at all, to the point you have to convince yourself that he’s a century-old vampire and not a brat going through puberty.

Because Donghyuck isn’t pale, his skin is tan as if he was kissed by the sun when he has been hiding from it his whole life. It’s smooth, unscarred, and almost golden under the fluorescent light of your apartment.

He’s not heartless either. He cried during watching Hachiko even when the dog owner was still alive and well, shouting, “Bad shit is going to happen. Bad shit is going to happen to the dog—look how cute that dog is—look just how fucking cute he is—he doesn’t deserve any pain—if this dog dies by the end of the movie, I will combust,” to the screen. So the thought of him killing someone by sucking their blood dry? Seems very unlikely.

And he’s not broody or angry all the time. He’s extremely playful and annoyingly mischievous. He keeps his stock of blood in empty bottles of red wine and places them inside the fridge with a handwritten note that says: “It’s really just wine, Sweetheart. I bought some as a housewarming gift. Come take a sip.” You did, once, out of curiosity, and from that day on you promised yourself that you’d never ever trust his words for as long as you live.

Being a monster, he should’ve been the cause of fear, but in reality, he gets scared from a lot of things—even the things that shouldn’t scare a baby. You will never forget the day when a loud crash came thundering from his room, two seconds before he came barging into yours, screaming with wide eyes, “THERE’S A COCKROACH FLYING IN MY ROOM!”

“And what did you do?”

“I THREW THE TV AT IT BUT THAT FUCKING THING STILL LIVES!”

“WHAT?! But that’s our TV!”

“IT WAS FLYING TO MY FACE AND I PANICKED—WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

Even a butterfly that sneaks in from the window makes him jump on his feet. It was cute the first two times it happened, but seeing how he keeps on throwing random things—your phone, included—to keep the bugs away, you probably should start adding another house rule.

Speaking about rules, they’re pretty basic. It’s settled that you’ll both do your cleaning separately. No borrowing things without permission, no spending too much time in the bathroom because although he doesn’t need to go to the toilet, Donghyuck enjoys drawing himself a warm bubble bath for hours, as he takes a sip of his ‘red wine’. And you’re fine with him bringing girls over to your place as long as he does his midnight snacking in his own room. You were against it before but then you figure that you’re going to have Mark in your room from time-to-time (your date night is cheaper this way) so you really don’t have the right to forbid him.

But man, if only you could take back your words.

Because when Donghyuck said his ladies surely enjoyed it when he drank from them, you didn’t think that they would enjoy it this much. And you didn’t think that drinking blood from a human equals having sex with them all night long.

The sound of “Aah, yes fuck me just like that,” and “Bite me again, Lee Donghyuck, I want you to bite me as hard as you fuck me,” can be heard coming endlessly from his bedroom whenever he brings a girl—sometimes even two, for God’s sake—over. You have to plug your AirPods into your ears, blast the volume to the maximum until you can literally feel your ears going deaf while pulling a pillow over your head. And even then you still can hear them. Your apartment has excellent sound-proofed walls so your neighbors don’t really hear the loud screeches they’re making, but for you who sleeps in the room just across the living room? A living hell.

Fortunately, it doesn’t happen every day. It doesn’t happen every week, even, since he always keeps some stocks of blood in the fridge.

“Did you take this blood from those girls?” You grimaced one night, as you opened your refrigerator to slide in your pudding leftover and noticed three huge bottles of red wine completely filled up to the brim.

He laughed, waving a hand. “Of course not, stupid. How could I even do that in the first place? I bought some blood bags from the hospital, obviously.” He was sitting on the couch before but when he delivered his next line, he suddenly stood behind you, lips hovering dangerously close to your ear. “And just in case you’re wondering,” you could feel his smirk grazing your earlobe. “I only drink directly when I want to have sex.”

The heat was spreading almost immediately to your cheeks so you hid it by throwing a punch to his stomach, which he easily dodged. “Still,” you complained, “There’s blood in my fridge.”

“Hey, I never complain when you keep your celery juice in there.” He scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t eat or drink human foods, but who the fuck drinks celery juice?”

***

Donghyuck is also exceptionally talkative, you’ve learned along the way. It’s nice to have someone to fill the silence, moving from one random topic to another, never letting an awkward pause hang for too long. But he can also be exceptionally annoying when you have some papers to do and he’s bothering you because he’s bored out of his mind. He’ll start pestering you with questions—unimportant questions—like, “If you only have one eye, are you blinking or winking?” Or “Why is it that when you are sleeping it's called drool but when you are awake it's called spit?” And the stupidest of them all, “Why did Superman wear his briefs on the outside of his tights? This question intrigues me.”

And you’ll eventually start to lose it, throw a pillow to his face and yell, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”

But by the end of the day, it’s really fun to have him around. Not just because you can secretly enjoy the sight of him coming out of your shared bathroom with only a towel hanging low around his hips, but also because he’s a vampire and you can spend your time doing actual research about it.

“So,” you began one day after the sun has set and he crawled out of his room with the biggest bird's nest on his head. You had a romance novel on your lap, your fingers running through the pages. “Are you like an actual vampire or are you the romanticized, somewhat gay vampire they usually depict in books?”

“Well, I’ve never been with a man but I don’t really oppose the idea.” He took a seat beside you on the couch, laying his feet on the coffee table. You kind of just stare at him, not exactly judging his words, just… bewildered.

He noticed the look on your face. “When you’ve lived for a century, you gotta learn how to keep things interesting, even if that means having a dick in my mouth.”

“That’s…” You swallowed. “Not exactly something I want to imagine.”

“You should, though. Try picturing me with your boyfriend Mark for a sec. Don’t we look hot together?” You had to look away when he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You just had to.

“So, these vampire books you said you read,” he went back to the previous topic after cackling for a whole ten seconds at the flustered look on your face. “How do they depict us exactly?”

“You’ve never read one?”

“Have you ever read any books about humans written by vampires?”

“Fair point. Well, it said that vampires couldn’t see themselves in the mirror.”

“Myth,” he replied, leaning his head against the couch. “I can see myself in the mirror and I like seeing myself just as much as you do whenever I come out of the bathroom.”

You almost blurt out the cinnamon cookie you just ate. “Excuse me?!” You cough, eyes starting to get a little teary. “Who said I like looking at you?”

“You don’t?” The way his eyes twinkled made you a little bit weak. A smirk grew apparent on his face. “You sure about that?”

You cleared your throat, flipping another page of your book. “Next question,” you continued, ignoring the soft laugh he emitted. “Do garlic, holy water, and silver scare you?”

“They don’t scare me,” he clicked his tongue, vexed by the way you composed your words. “I just don’t like them.”

“Right, so that’s a yes. Do you have to be invited in to be able to enter someone’s home?”

He tightened his jaw, quietly murmured, “Yes.”

“Can you read someone’s thoughts?”

“No, but I can tell how they’re feeling through their heartbeat.” His eyes were boring into yours, lips curving upward. “Like you, for example. I can tell that whenever I’m around you, your heartbeat runs just a little bit faster.”

You glanced away, rubbing your nose. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Ah,” he showcased his perfect marbled teeth as he grinned knowingly. “Just like that. Your heartbeat is increasing again. Are you lying to me, milady?”

“You’re freaking annoying, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm.”

“Speaking of that,” you immediately said, knowing it was the perfect chance to avert his attention to another topic. “Can you charm someone?”

“With these looks?” He gestured to his entire body. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” But when you started scowling at him, he added, “But if you’re talking about mind compulsion, yes, I am able to do that. I can erase and alter people’s memories, even controlling them only by making eye contact.”

“That sounds pretty convenient.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like doing it.” He shrugged, staring at the ceiling with droopy eyes. “Hypnotizing them to get what I want just doesn’t sit right with me. I want to feel a connection, you know?”

“So doing one night stands with vampire groupies is the perfect way to earn that connection, I suppose?”

He tilted his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “You really know how to attack someone’s pride, huh?”

“Part of my charm,” you mimic him with a nod. “Okay, next question. Can you die with a wooden stake piercing your heart?”

He rolled his eyes. “Everybody dies with a stake in—what is this, an interrogation?”

“Do churches—”

“Okay, Sweetheart.” He closed your book, smiling at you though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I think that’s enough. My turn.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, not really pleased with the way he just suddenly changed the direction of your conversation. “What do you want to know?” You indulged him anyway.

He tilted his head, propping his elbow on his thigh, fingers tapping against his cheek as he rested his chin on his palm. Gazing at you intensely, he asked, “Are you a virgin?”

It didn’t take even a split second for you to blush. “T-that’s—What kind of question is that—”

“Ah, so you are.” His smile grew a bit larger, but you weren’t sure whether he was amused, aroused, or just excited to mock you about it. “Is that why you’ve been staring at me a lot lately? Because you’re curious?”

“For the last time,” you emphasized, though your heart was hammering against your ribcages. “I wasn’t looking at you. I never—”

“You’re adorable when you lie,” he snickered, a lopsided smile painting his face. “Your heartbeat sounds like you just did a marathon. Are you okay?”

You threw your book at him, successfully wiping the smirk on his goddamn perfect face, and raced back to your own room.

“Ah, she’s really cute.” Was the last thing you heard him say before you slammed your bedroom door behind you.

***

For a vampire, Donghyuck’s presence is as bright as the sun, always managing to lift your mood whenever you’re too stressed about your college assignments or too exhausted from your part-time job. Of course, he’s also the cause of your stress more often than not, but whenever you get into a fight with him—usually because he’s so disorganized and you’re too obsessive to keep everything in order—it doesn’t last long and ends up with him making you the best dinner you’ve ever had to compensate, even when he’s not the one at fault.

Donghyuck doesn’t consume human food but he makes the best cuisine you’ve ever tasted in your life. And also the sight of him wearing your pink apron while humming to a Michael Jackson’s song with his bangs tied to the side using your hairclip is really, really something to behold—which is weird because that obviously doesn’t scream sexy in any way, or masculine even, but it makes your stomach do somersaults most delightfully.

“Dinner is served, Milady,” he says, laying down a plate of Spaghetti Aglio e Olio in front of you, making you gawk at the sight. “And it’s special because it contains a lot of garlic—seriously, like a lot. I had to put some gloves on and everything.”

“You’re an angel.” You nearly cry and it’s not an exaggeration. “I can’t believe you did this all for me.”

“Well, I haven’t really thanked you for covering my rent last month so…”

“It’s fine, you can pay me back later.” You take a hold of your fork, already wetting your lips in anticipation, and waste not a second longer before you dig in. When the cheese melts inside your mouth, you almost moan in joy. “Oh my God, this is so good. I love you.”

He chuckles, suddenly standing behind you, leaning forward so he’s next to your ear. “Yeah? How much?”

You raise your silver spoon in the air and he immediately leaps to the other side of the kitchen, startled and scared out of his mind. “Hey, that’s not nice! I thought we’ve talked about this!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you take another spoonful of it. “Man, you should really make a job out of this,” you comment. He only cooks whenever he feels sorry for you for going through a hard day—whether it was because of him or something else—but if that’s what it takes to have this magnificent dish entering your mouth, you don’t mind suffering more often.

“I really should, huh?” He takes a seat on the kitchen counter, his legs dangling a few inches in the air. “I’m really running low on money.”

“I thought vampires were supposed to be rich and like, noble.”

“You’re confusing us with Aristocrats.” He grieves. “Do you think I can get a night shift at a restaurant downtown?”

“Oh, I actually know a place. I’ll take you there tomorrow.”

“Like on a date?”

You almost drop your fork. “Why do you have to make everything weird?”

His cheeky grin is contagious but you’ve become a master of handling your expression. “I just like seeing you blush,” he confesses. “Have I told you how cute you are?”

“Today? Not yet,” you mutter as you munch on your food. “Yesterday? Approximately two hundred and thirty-five times.”

“Then I’ll try to break another record today.” He throws you a wink.

“Shut up and let me eat in peace, please.”

***

“Donghyuck-ah.”

“Yes, baby?”

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop posting a goddamn selfie every ten minutes!” You almost throw your phone to his face but since it’ll be a waste, you decide to throw your shoe instead. “I didn’t teach you how to use Instagram for this!”

Donghyuck easily dodges every single thing you’re throwing at him. “Didn’t you tell me to promote my cooking skill? That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“How does this—” You show your phone’s screen to him, almost smacking him on the face with how fast and hard you’re doing it. You slide your thumb over his Instagram feeds, showing more than fifty different pictures of his close-up face and he just made that account two days ago. “—promote your cooking skill?!”

“But, look,” he guides you, clasping his hand to yours so you’re both holding your phone. He taps from one picture to another. “This is me holding a spatula. This is me boiling water and this is me pouring barbecue sauce—”

“Oh my God.” You almost yank every hair out of your head—or out of his head. “I follow more than four hundred people and all I can see is your damn selfies!”

“Correction, my damn cute selfies.” He pecks your cheek. “You’re welcome, babe.”

But all jokes aside, it actually works. His adorable selfies—no matter how bad you hate to admit it—are attracting more followers each day that by the time a week has passed by, he has gained more followers than you (and you’ve had your account for three years, shame on you).

And on the following two months, he gets his first endorsement deal.

“I can’t believe this,” you say, gaping as you stare over his shoulder to look at his phone’s screen, shamelessly reading his direct messages. He’s getting an offer to become a brand ambassador for this little bakery with a cover photo of a lady with chubby cheeks baking cupcakes. “I can’t believe there are people crazy enough to hire you.”

“Hey, privacy!” He immediately stands up from the couch, covering his screen with his palm. “I could’ve been sending nudes!”

“You’re sending nudes?”

“Well, not my nudes.” He rolls his eyes.

“How is that any better?!”

“Look, I’m busy. I got a gig.” He grins proudly. “I’m on my way to becoming a celebrity, babe. Do you want my autograph now before it’s too late? I could sign your bra if you want. I mean, I’m totally down if you want me to sign your tits, but if you ever think that could be awkward—”

You smack his head with a spatula.

***

It’s your first date night after nearly half a year of not contacting Mark due to him going overseas for student exchange, and you’re nervous for various reasons.

First, you haven’t told Mark you’ve been sharing a place with a guy.

Second, you certainly haven’t told him that this guy is a vampire.

Third, you absolutely in any way cannot tell him that you’ve been secretly crushing on this guy while your boyfriend was away studying.

And last but not least, you know that if anything happens tonight, whether it ends up with you fighting with Mark or finally losing your virginity to him, Donghyuck can hear every single thing.

So you barge into his room, hand laying on the front of his bedroom door as you push it open. “Donghyuck-ah.”

Like always, he’s laying idly on his bed, head almost dangling on the edge of it with his phone in his hands. “Yes, baby?”

You sigh, rubbing your temple. “How many times should I tell you? Don’t call me that.”

“You’re not my baby anymore?” He fakes a loud gasp. “I am shocked.”

“Mark is coming over tonight.”

His movements stop abruptly. “I didn’t realize you were still with him.”

“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be? He’s been nothing but sweet to me.”

His eyes lose the mischievous spark he usually displays in them. “And yet, you keep drooling over my body. Can’t say I’m not hurt.”

“I never—” You exhale loudly, throwing your head back. “I’m not going to have this argument again. He’s coming over tonight to have dinner—”

“But you’re a shitty cook.”

“By dinner, I mean take-outs,” you admit your defeat. “Anyway, I came here to ask you a favor.”

“Sweetheart,” he calls, turning over to his stomach so he can face you without having to see you upside down. “I know I said I wanted to make things interesting, but having a threesome with you and Mark? So suddenly like this? Don’t you think it’s gonna be a little awkward between us? I barely know the dude. You should at least tell me what kind of person he is, whether he likes action movies or romantic ones, whether he blames someone else when he farts—I need to know him before I have his dick in my mouth.”

Talking to him gives you headaches, you should’ve really come prepared. “Are you done?”

“Do you still want me to continue? Okay, well—”

“Shut up, please for the love of God, shut up.” You should take your leave before he starts yapping again. “Look, that super hearing thing you do? Can you turn it off just for one night?”

“Sure thing, click,” he says, snapping his fingers near his ear. “Done. Now I’m deaf.”

You flatly stare at him. “I’m serious.”

“Whaaaaat? I can’t heaaaaar youuuu.”

“Hyuck!”

He groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “Well, it’s not like my ears have on-and-off buttons I can just switch, okay? What do you want from me?”

He’s right, there’s nothing you can do. “Then, can you leave the apartment for the night?”

He opens his mouth wide, hand going to his chest. “You’re kicking me out from my own apartment? This is heresy!”

“Donghyuck-ah, please!” Great, now you’re stomping your feet like a child. “I just really need some privacy for tonight.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get laid, aren’t you?” He raves mockingly, but his eyes are somewhat bitter. “Seriously? With that guy? I think you could do so much better, Sweetheart.”

Vexed, you jeer back, “Yeah? And who do you have in mind? You?”

You’re not sure whether it’s your words or the way you say them because his eyes suddenly turn darker, almost glowering at you but it only happens for a second or two so you’re not sure if you even see that clearly.

“Well, it’s not my business, is it?” He casually chirps, smiling at you again though something still feels off. “Don’t worry, I won’t eavesdrop on you two. I have a lot of kinks but voyeurism isn’t one of those. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

“You…” Something feels really off with the way he’s acting. It’s like he’s visibly upset but trying to act nonchalant about it. “You’re sure?”

“You have my words.”

“Okay then.” Whatever it is, you figure you can deal with that later. “Well, I’m gonna take a shower.”

As you shut the door behind you, uneasiness starts to fill your chest.

***

Your date with Mark is going well. It’s going so well, even, that you end up lying on your bed, perfectly naked, lips swollen from his kisses, with him hovering on top of you, both breathless and speechless.

And unfortunately for you, also clueless.

He has a packet of condoms in his hand, and no matter how embarrassing it is for you, you already have your legs spread on the bed, waiting for him to… well, do whatever it is he’s supposed to do. Perhaps it’s okay for you to be clueless about sex because guys usually take the lead, right?

Wrong.

“Okay, wait, let me just—” Mark’s fingers are shaking due to anxiety. His poor, innocent mind cannot handle being so painfully turned-on and awkwardly embarrassed at the same time. Your boyfriend has always been awkward with literally everything, which kind of makes him adorable but it does not come as cute—not in the slightest—when he’s doing the exact opposite of what’s he’s supposed to do. Somewhere deep in his mind, he probably knows that he’s supposed to tear apart the packet sexily with his teeth, put the condom on within seconds, and thrust into you as painlessly as possible. But in reality, what’s currently happening is he tries to catch the condom that flew out in the air after he managed to tear the packet apart with his shaky fingers. He then progresses to try putting on the condom for approximately fifteen minutes while flinching several times when he accidentally slaps the elastic band against his cock.

The whole thing is a fucking disaster (no pun intended) and all the passion, desire, and arousal that you once felt swirling in your stomach vanish in an instant. And when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, it does, because being a virgin himself, Mark doesn’t really know where to, for the lack of better words, put it in.

“Mark?”

“Y-yeah?”

“That’s my asshole.”

So with a reassuring (fake) smile, you lay a hand on his chest and gently push him backward, trying not to wince in chagrin when you suggest, “Maybe we should stop and try again some other time?”

You two dress back into your clothes in silence and after you escort him to your front door, Mark tries to kiss you at the same time you’re leaning in for a friendly hug so it ends up with him knocking his teeth against your forehead.

When he’s gone, you close the front door with a sigh, pressing your spine against the wooden surface as you soothe the pain on your temple away with your fingertips. It doesn’t take long before Donghyuck peeks his head from behind his door. Noticing you’re alone, he steps into the living room, leaning against the wall just a couple of meters away from where you’re standing.

“So,” he begins, acting casual, “How was the date with—” He suddenly bursts out laughing, one hand holding his stomach as he nearly tumbles down to the floor, cackling like a mad man. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but man, did he really put it in the wrong hole? Oh God, this shit is just beyond me, man.”

With your shoulders slumped forward, you walk back into your room, trying to gather back the pieces of dignity you have left.

***

“You know what I should do?” Donghyuck asks with a game controller in his hand. To stop him from making fun of you and your terrible incident with your boyfriend, you’ve borrowed a PlayStation from your cousin. Even though he claimed that he despised technology, Donghyuck is actually brilliant when he puts his mind to it. It doesn’t take more than two hours for him to master the game, already adapting to every button of the controller, even manages to land a few high scores in the last ten minutes. He used to prefer to live in the old school way, but that soon changed after your influence.

“Pray to God for forgiveness so He won’t send you to hell?” You offer, as you take a seat next to him on the carpeted floor, crossing your legs, eyes staring idly at the screen.

“Cute, but no.” He clicks some buttons aggressively, trying to reach yet another high score. “I should become a historian. I mean, I’ve seen things happened with my own eyes—the first world war, the second world war, the birth of Jesus.” He sneaks a glance, but seeing no reaction coming from you, he juts out his lower lip in disappointment. “It’s cruel that you don’t indulge me with my jokes these days.”

“Oh, so you want me to respond? I thought you just liked hearing yourself talk.”

“Heeeeeey,” he hisses, leering at you. “I know you’re hurt that your boyfriend tried to butt-fuck you but don’t throw this all on me.”

Oh my God. “Right, then let’s try this.” You have no choice but to please him this way before he destroys whatever is left of your pride. You do a quick search on your phone, throwing a random question from what you found in the article. “Who led our country in 1950?”

“Easy. The guy with the bald head. No, wait, is it the skinny one with the huge mole on his neck?”

“Name, Hyuck. I need a name.” You exhale in exasperation.

“Oh, I got it! The one with the annoying high-pitched voice!”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to remember shits that happened seventy years ago?”

You give him a look, eyes staring at him lifelessly. “You’re right, you should totally apply for the job. You’ll nail it.”

***

“I can’t believe this.”

“Saying that multiple times won’t really change anything, Sweetheart.”

“I can’t believe this,” you repeat, this time while standing up from the couch, slamming your fashion magazine down to the table. “I can’t believe our air conditioner broke when it’s nearly thirty degrees outside! Aren’t you hot?!”

“Am I hot—” He snorts, flipping a page of his novel. Yes, it is actually quite bizarre that he spends his spare time reading. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m hot. Haven’t you seen the number of girls I brought into this place?”

“Ugh, God!” You plop back into your seat, throwing your head back in vexation. “What are you even reading?”

“That vampire book you talked about yesterday.”

“Which one?”

“The one that’s interesting.”

“Oh, Interview with The Vampire?”

“No.” The way he rolls his eyes as if he’s disgusted with your guess is beyond you. “Twilight.”

“Oh my God, stay away from me.”

“What—this is actually good!”

“These vampires sparkle under the sun—aren’t you, at the very least, offended? Because I’m livid and I’m human.”

“That’s what makes it interesting, actually,” he retorts, eyes moving back-and-forth as he reads through a passage. “They’re so different than us in real life, so it’s like seeing through a new perspective. I’m Team Jacob, by the way.”

“Good Lord.” You palm the side of your face. “You’re more than a hundred years-old but you have the taste of a teenage girl going through puberty. I’m ashamed of knowing you.”

“You’re just cranky because of the weather.”

“I’m literally dying.” You can feel sweat drenching your back, all the way to your shirt and you just took a shower twenty minutes ago. “You’re lucky you’re immune to temperature changes.”

“Then wanna sit on my lap?”

Your ears must be playing tricks on you. “Excuse me?”

Donghyuck sighs, closing his book and throws it away to the side. Turning to you, he repeats slowly, dragging out every syllable. “Do. you. want. to. sit. on. my. lap?”

You send him a blank stare, annoyed. “I heard you, asshole. I’m not an idiot. I’m just shocked at your offer. You’re really going all out in harassing me these days, aren’t you?”

“What—” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’m a vampire, remember? I have cold skin. Here,” he takes one of your hands, sliding it down his shirt as if it’s nothing, and presses it against his stomach. “Can you feel it?”

All the blood rushes to your face, making you feel lightheaded but also conscious of how his skin feels under your palm. It is cold, though not as cold as he’d made a big deal out of it. It’s like the room temperature during the spring season, at most. But compared to how sizzling it is right now, his skin is nice to the touch, relaxing even.

But all that thought just goes straight out of the window when he shifts on his seat and you can feel his abs muscles contracting.

“Whoa,” he stops, looking at you. “Are you okay? Your heartbeat is insane.”

You smack him on the head and try to suffocate him with your cushion. It doesn’t work since he doesn’t breathe, but at least it can stop him from seeing how red your face is turning.

But when another day passes by and your landlord is still taking his sweet time trying to find a cheap handyman to repair your AC, you decide to take on his offer. You know it’s weird for roommates to cuddle but, as you try to reason within yourself, you will be sitting on the-sexiest-man-you’ve-ever-witnessed-with-your-eyes’ lap, your back pressing against his (hopefully) bare chest, and snuggle close until your body heat is no longer screaming at you in agony. You don’t really see any problem with this. After all, you have been imagining how it would feel to sit on his lap every time he does that manspreading thing on your couch.

So really, what’s there to lose?

“Okay,” you begin, standing in front of him in an already awkward position. “So, how can we do this without being weird about it?”

Donghyuck tilts his face up, leaning his back against the couch, phone in his hand. “Do what?”

“Do…” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “You know, what you offered yesterday.”

“Hmm?” He raises his eyebrow in question, but the way one side of his lips is curving upward betrays his act. “I forgot. What exactly did I offer to do?”

“You’re seriously going to make me say this out loud?”

“Baby, I’m clueless.” His smirk grows wider, his voice filled with allure. “Please. Enlighten me.”

He’s toying with you, that’s for sure. And no matter how much you want to feel those arms around you, there’s no way you’re gonna let him degrade you like this. “Fine, then forget it,” you sulk, turning around on your heels with your scarlet cheeks puffed out but Donghyuck laughs in the most innocent way when he’s clearly nothing like that in reality. Calling your name in a sing-song voice, he circles his fingers around your wrist and tugs you back until you tumble down to his lap.

“You’re never honest,” he says, his velvety voice suddenly only a whisper away. His arms are tied securely around your waist, pulling you close until you can do nothing but lay your back against his chest. “But you’re cute so I forgive you.”

You can’t form a word, too busy trying to compose yourself. You can’t hear his heartbeat—since he’s the creature of the undead, obviously—but you assume with the proximity you’re being, you would’ve definitely heard it if he had one.

You didn’t notice it before but now that you’re sitting on his lap, your palm pressed against his thigh for stability you realize that he’s wearing black ripped jeans with holes that are oh so terribly distracting. If you dare to move your finger, you’ll be able to trace the smooth skin at the inner part of his thigh.

You gulp hard.

You can hear him snickering behind you. “Thinking about something dirty?”

You almost swallowed your own tongue. “What—no!” Flapping your hands in panic, you almost fall from his lap but his fast reflex won’t let you, as he embraces you tighter, making you fall back to his chest with a small oof.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he chuckles lowly, his lips grazing against your earlobe. “This is nice. We should do this more often. You fit perfectly in my arms.” He says his line with sincerity with no trace of humor or teasing in it, which effectively make you curl your toes in bashfulness.

“You’re gonna have a heart attack if you keep your heart rate going like that, Sweetheart,” he titters.

“Yeah, well,” you try to push him away by pushing your palm against his cheek. “Unlike you, I don’t really spend my time snuggling with the opposite sex, so of course I’m nervous.”

“You’re sure it’s not because of me?”

“Absolutely. In fact, I’d most likely have a bigger reaction if Mark was the one holding me instead.”

The way he suddenly goes stiff intrigues you, but you don’t dwell on it. “Is that so?” He simply retorts back, tone suddenly becoming cold and it makes you feel uneasy.

“So, uhh…” Your breathing tatters when he becomes mute, only the sound of the ticking clock on the wall can be heard. “Wanna watch a movie?”

He only hums, placing his chin on top of your head. Since he’s always so talkative, it gets really tense when he’s quiet. “Did I offend you or something?” You question.

“I don’t know, did you?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”

“Then let’s just leave it at that.” Seeing how you keep fumbling with the remote in your hand, he snatches it away and proceeds to switch the channels. “We’re watching Twilight.”

“Nooooooo, not again!”

But his arm, as he raises it high in the air, is longer than yours so you can’t steal back the remote no matter how hard you try. And as you jump up and down, shifting back and forth on his lap, Donghyuck warns, “I don’t know if you’re doing this on purpose, but if you keep doing that, I’m gonna get a hard-on.”

You immediately stay still, hands tucked neatly on your lap, chest thundering. “You—Why—” You shake your head, flushed. “How can you say things like that?”

“Things like what?”

“Sexual things like that.” The more you reveal your thoughts, the harder you blush. “Don’t you have any shame?”

“What, I can’t be honest?” He snorts. “I didn’t mean to harass you or anything. Just letting you know in advance. It’s completely a guy thing.”

“No, it’s not just that. You always flirt with me—calling me baby, telling me how I look cute all the time when you don’t even mean it—“

You’re interrupted with a loud sigh accompanied by an impatient groan. “Turn around, look at me,” he orders and his tone is irrefutable. When you turn slightly, making eye contact, Donghyuck has his eyebrows furrowed, almost glaring at you. “I know you’re gullible, and I know you’re dense when it comes to things like this but I swear to God, if you don’t start taking a hint, I’m going to have to push you against the wall and kiss you to prove my point.”

You’re dizzy and nauseous, and your stomach is flipping like crazy and you’re conflicted between believing him or laughing at him because although he looks dead serious right now, you can’t help but wonder what if, after you give in to your feelings, he sends you that signature cheeky grin of his to reveal he’s just joking all along? You’re not even brave enough to imagine, even when the vivid image of him pushing you against the wall, his knee slipping between your legs while he brings your wrists over your head, holding them still with one hand is enough to keep you awake for hours.

So you decide to take the easy path. “Okay.”

He blinks. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You shrug, acting casual. It’s really a miracle that you don’t stutter when you deliver the next line. “You told me to take a hint, that’s what I’m doing.”

He raises one of his eyebrows, confused. “Just like that? You’re not gonna say anything more? Or do anything about it?”

“Nope.”

Slowly, there’s a shift in his expression. He shakes his head, tongue protruding against the inside of his cheek both irked and amused. “You’re really something.”

Surprisingly enough, he leaves it at that. Though it’s somehow uncomfortable, you follow his lead and just lock your eyes to your tv screen as he chooses his movie.

You have no interest in watching Twilight—absolutely nothing, zilch, zip, nada!—so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your eyelids start to become heavy in the first thirteen minutes of the show. You would’ve fallen asleep way sooner though, if you weren’t too distracted with the way he laid his hand on your thigh, sometimes unconsciously rubbing or squeezing it with his palm when he got a little bit bored with the scene, making your breath hitched in your throat.

The room’s temperature is still hot even when it’s in the middle of the night, successfully making your bangs stick to your temple but Donghyuck is quietly humming something to himself. Soft, melodious sound is resonating from his chest directly to your ear and you begin to drift away, floating into your dreamland.

***

“Hey, wake up. It’s almost morning.”

Your bleary eyes are greeted with the dim light of the room. The TV in front of you has already been switched off so the only thing that can be heard in your apartment is the buzzing sound coming from your fridge and the faint ticking clock.

“What time is it?” You rub your eyes, not aware that you’re still sitting on his lap, with your spine leaning against his chest. It’s until you feel his arms loosening around your waist that you begin to think, oh fuck, what have I done?

You immediately jump off his lap, tripping over your feet but manage to hold your balance by placing a hand on the coffee table. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You screech, face aflame. “You kept holding me in that position all night?”

“Yeah.” He stretches his arms above his head, cracking his neck. “I wanted to wait until you wake up by yourself, but you know, the sun is about to rise.”

You’re still pretty much flabbergasted by the whole thing. “You really should’ve woken me up.”

“Well, you seemed like you were having the best sleep you’ve ever had.” He stares at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “Was it that good being in my arms?”

You’re about to explode. “Okay, wow, look what time it is.” You try to look at your wrist and mentally slap yourself harder when you realize you’re not wearing a goddamn watch. “A-anyway, you really should go back to your room before it’s too late.”

He shakes his head, chuckling at your stupid antics as he stands up from the couch. He ruffles your hair once, making a mess out of your strands before he heads back to his room. As he slides open his door, he spares you a glance over his shoulder. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You kept calling my name in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?”

Whether it’s true or he’s just flirting with you to get your reaction, you don’t want to know. “Just go to your room!”

***

A few moments after the sun sinks below the horizon, Donghyuck comes out from his room with bleary eyes and his shoulders slumped forward.

“Good morning, Princess,” you joke, your hands busy mixing coffee powder, sugar, and milk to make your own version of Dalgona coffee. Donghyuck scratches the back of his head, his eyes are barely open as he heads to the kitchen, not even sparing you a glance. When he opens the fridge, he groans loudly, noticing that he forgot to restock his red wine. He slams the door with a loud huff, drags his body to the dining table, and sits down with his cheek pressed against the table. Seeing how you’re not paying him any attention, he groans again, louder and whinier this time.

“Okay, what?” You ask, leaning your back against the counter, a cup of coffee in your hand.

“I’m thirsty,” he grumbles, jutting out his lower lip.

“Then drink.”

“I don’t have any money to buy even a bag of blood. Why do they have to make it so fucking expensive?” He pouts. “I mean, I can always steal one but I’m scared of being caught.”

“Scared of being caught? You, with your superhuman speed and strength?”

“Well, they have those security cameras installed all over the place! I don’t want to get arrested or worse, go viral!” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes at his nonsense. “These fucking technologies, man, I swear to God, they’ll be the death of me someday.”

“Then just go outside. Our town is filled with walking blood bags.”

He groans again, now pressing his forehead against the table. “Man, the effort I have to make just to survive. I’m so done with drinking blood from slutty girls. They’re bitter.” He sticks out his tongue at the memory.

“Yeah, why is that? Why do you only drink from them?”

“Because they’re the only ones who’ll agree in a heartbeat.” His voice is muffled as his lips are brushing against the surface. “Also the sex isn’t too bad if you can ignore how annoyingly loud they are.”

“Trust me, I’ve tried.” You grimace at the flashback. It really has been a while since he brought one of them back to his room and you were ecstatic about it, knowing you were the only girl he had been giving his attention to. “Why don’t you just compel someone to give their blood? You can erase their memories too after you’re done.”

“I’ve told you, I don’t like doing that. It makes me feel like a monster.”

It’s cute, you suppose, the way he tries his best to defy his nature. “Then…” You tap your fingers against the mug, somehow feeling uneasy. “Why don’t you try being in a relationship with someone? I’m sure they’ll be willing to give you their blood if they like you that way.”

“Yeah? With who?”

“I don’t know, like…” Your cheeks grow hot, bringing your face down to hide your eyes behind your bangs. “Maybe just someone you like.”

“Are you volunteering?”

The way he suddenly has you backed against the counter, trapping you inside his arms, and whispers seductively with his lips almost grazing your own make you jump on your feet, your cup slipping off your fingers, crashing to pieces when it hits the marbled floor.

“Careful!” Donghyuck holds you by the waist, stopping you just a split second away from stepping on the broken glasses. You realize your hands are fisting against the back of his shirt, embracing him for support without knowing. You pull away immediately, clearing your throat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he says, letting you go. “I mean I did, but not like this.”

You sigh. “It’s okay, just step away. I need to clean this up.” He tries to help but you won’t let him, because having him in such proximity is going to blind your senses, unable to function properly. Even just thinking about the way his strong arm fits the curve of your waist already makes you lose focus that you end up cutting your finger with a shard of glass.

He catches the little surprised yelp that escapes your lips and immediately bends down to check on you. “See, this is why I told you to let me clean up instead,” he complains, carrying you to the sink and drenches your finger with running water. “Let me see.” With a hold around your wrist, you can barely do anything but to let him examine your cut thoroughly. “Well, it’s not deep but it’s… still…”

Noticing how he trails off, you look up to check on his face seeing how his eyes are now glowing a bit brighter, his lips parted as if in awe from the way droplets of blood seep from your fingertip, trickling all the way down to your palm.

“Hyuck…?”

His eyes are drifting back and forth from your face to your cut and you know where this is going but when he brings your palm closer to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the blood off your skin, you nearly collapse to the floor.

“Hyuck—” You hiss, cheeks reddening as you try to retract your hand but his hold is firm on your wrist. He licks his way up before he brings your fingertip inside his mouth. Donghyuck has his eyes closed, a moan almost falls from his lip when the coppery taste taints his tongue. He sucks on the wound, wanting to taste more, to rip your skin apart with his teeth and—

“Hyuck!”

He blinks awake, shocked when he sees your face painted with fear. His fangs are drawn out but he immediately retracts them back before you get a detailed look, his face flushed as he takes a step back.

“S-sorry—” He looks away, rubbing his nape with shaky fingers. “I didn’t mean—shit I really have to go—I have to drink—” and when you blink your eyes, he’s vanished from your sight.

With your heart thundering inside your ribcages, you lean back against the kitchen counter again, your legs trembling under you.

That was close. So fucking close.

There’s a fear growing inside you but it’s not from the memory of him with his fangs extended like the true monster that he was. You’re not scared of him, you’re scared of yourself because you know you want him, you want him in any way possible. You want him to belong to you, to be with you, to be desperate for your touch, your blood, your presence, your everything, just as much as you are about him.

You bury your face in your palms. I am so fucked.

***

Hours turn into days and days turn into months, and before you know it, it has been a year since he moved into your apartment. The friendship that blooms between you feels nice and you want to keep it that way but it’s getting hard when he keeps on bringing random girls in skimpy dresses back to his room. You used to be furious by how loud they were being, but now you’re pretty much angry just simply by imagining him being with someone else. And it doesn’t even have to be sexual—just picturing him bonding with another person, even when it’s not as strong as what you two have, manages to irk you so much.

The thoughts of him keep revolving in your head no matter how hard you try to push them away. It even puts your relationship with Mark in jeopardy, as you can barely pay him any attention. It doesn’t surprise you at all when he decides to break things off, saying something cliche like, “I think we’re better off as friends,” and “It’s not you, it’s me,” which in normal circumstances will piss the hell out of you but when that happens, you simply just reply, “You’re right. Let’s be friends.” And there are no hard feelings—no feelings at all, even, which is weird considering you were only a month away from having your first anniversary with him.

Now that Mark is out of the picture, you can finally bring all of your attention back to Donghyuck. But the more you think about it, the more you’re not sure about the whole thing. He’s a vampire, isn’t he? What future do you expect to have with him? Let’s say you date him and things go well with your relationship, and then what? He’s going to stay young with that cute, boyish look on his face and you’re gonna be all wrinkled and gross, how are you ever going to be able to stand that? What if he wants someone prettier than you? What if he gets bored?

Or maybe it’s just lust you’re feeling. You don’t love him, you’re just physically attracted to him. That’s right. Strictly physical.

And yet, as you see him dressed up in a white buttoned-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, running a hand through his hair and pushing back his bangs to showcase his temple, you thought: fuck.

And when he smiles at you, as he places a plate filled with the exact dish he knows you love down to the dining table, saying, “I went ahead and did some research about you. I was about to buy you some presents but I thought it would feel more personal if I cooked something for you so,” and stopping to gaze at you with tender eyes before he adds, “Happy birthday, Sweetheart.” You thought: Jesus fucking Christ, just marry me already.

Donghyuck goes all the way with everything, from placing scented candles on the table, playing soft music in the background, even escorting you to your seat, pulling your chair back for you, and placing down a napkin on your lap. It’s too much for your poor brain to comprehend, and your chest is suffocating from all the feelings swirling behind it and Donghyuck looks so beautiful—almost goddamn ethereal even—in that shirt, in that hairstyle, in the dim light of the room.

“You’re not hungry?” He asks when a few seconds have passed by and you haven’t munched at your food like a caveman—because that’s what you usually do.

“I’m—you—” You splutter, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before you try again. “You look nice.”

You can already tell that he’s about to say something along the line of “But baby, I always look nice.” So when he just softly smiles back and thanks you about it, telling how you look just as nice when you know you look like a storm just hit you, you’re pretty much lost for words.

“You seem exhausted,” he comments, frowning in concern. “Hard day at work?”

You can’t trust yourself that you won’t start rambling nonsense again while answering his question so you decide to just reply to him with a timid nod.

“Why are you so nervous?” He laughs, eyes turning crescents. “Your heartbeat is going through the roof again.”

You loathe yourself for being so transparent. “I’m nervous because you’re suddenly being so nice. I can’t help but think you have a hidden agenda or something.” That’s a lie. A complete lie.

And you’re sure he knows it. “And what if I do?” He asks, raising an eyebrow seductively. “What kind of a hidden agenda do you think I have for you?”

Why is it so fucking hot in here?! “I don’t know…” You start fiddling with the fingers you have on your lap. “Drinking my blood, maybe?”

His expression is a mystery to you, even when his smirk seems familiar. “And would you be okay if that’s true?”

You can’t answer but fortunately for you, Donghyuck lets out a chuckle, telling you he was making a lame joke. You force yourself to laugh but it sounds like a wheeze so you stop before it gets even more humiliating.

Donghyuck walks to your side with a bottle of wine in his hands, sliding glass to your side as he says, “Wine, milady? It’s not blood, I swear.” And you believe him because this time, the liquid seems more ruby than crimson.

“You really need to relax,” he comments as he leans his back against the edge of the table, raising the glass of his usual red wine in the air before he clanks it gently against yours. “To the cutest, sweetest roommate in the world.”

You immediately take a sip to hide the blush that creeps up your face, flinching when the burning, mildly bitter flavor hits your tongue. You’ve never drunk any alcohol in your life and although this first experience feels rather unpleasant, you keep chugging more of it down your system.

“Does it taste good?” He asks, secretly smiling to himself as he witnesses how fast you’re drinking the whole glass down. You shake your head in response, which earns another laugh from him.

You’re not sure whether it’s because it’s your first time drinking alcohol or you just have a low tolerance when it comes to it, but you can feel yourself getting both lightheaded and drowsy. Donghyuck who takes notice of that, move you to the couch so you can rest more comfortably. “I better take this away,” he says, circling his lean fingers around your wine glass but you push him away.

“No,” you say, eyes a little bit unfocused. “I’m fine. Pour me some more.”

“Don’t you think it’s enough?”

“Just another glass, Hyuck, don’t be a bitch about it.”

He’s taken aback but collects his composure within seconds. “All right, just don’t blame me for it,” he states as he pours you another one.

“I have a question for you, Lee Donghyuck,” you coo as he takes a seat on the coffee table, facing you. “Does everyone’s blood taste the same to you?”

“It differs, actually,” he answers, taking a sip of his own drink. “But only faintly. I’m not that picky about it.”

“And how does it feel having your blood sucked by a vampire?”

“You’re asking the wrong guy.” He sways his head from side-to-side in amusement. “I mean, of course, I can have my blood drunk by another vampire but I’m not that kinky. I know some vampires who are into that kind of shit though.”

“Well, by the sound of your girls screaming like they were giving birth, it’s either very painful or very…” The sight of him staring at you intently, taking in your features, nearly throws you off tracks. “Pleasurable.”

There’s an awkward pause and silence hangs around to fill the space before Donghyuck speaks again. “How come you’re asking me these questions?”

“Because that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” you confess, not sure why, but you’re feeling very brave at the moment. “And it’s not just about you drinking my blood, but more about you entirely. You know what I mean?”

Donghyuck places his glass down on the table, leaning towards you. “Not sure, but I’m all ears.”

“I… just…” It’s getting harder to speak when he’s so close, you can start locating every tiny mole he has on his face and his neck. The small one near his Adam’s apple is the one that distracts you the most. “I just think we’re compatible with each other, you know? And I’ve never enjoyed someone’s company this much before. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re both endearing and freaking annoying at the same time—how is that possible?”

But Donghyuck isn’t laughing. His eyes are deep and dark, raking over your profiles with so much intensity but when he swats the bangs out of your eyes, his touch is tender. “What else? Tell me more.”

You lean closer to his touch like how a kitten would, making him gulp slightly at the sight. “I get so vexed whenever you spend your time with anyone else. I know I have no right to be jealous since we’re just friends but I can’t help it.” You sigh, rubbing the side of your face with your palm. “It’s so fucking tiring to think about you this much when I can’t have you.”

You’re too lost in your own thoughts that when Donghyuck reaches out a hand to touch your face, you jump in surprise, spilling wine all over your blouse. “Shit, this is my favorite shirt,” you whine, sliding your glass down to the table. “Can you get me some tissues?”

But what he does is lifting your body with both of his arms and carry you to the bathroom. You cling onto him with a yelp, trying to keep yourself away from falling even though you’re sure he’s perfectly able to hold your weight.

Donghyuck places you down on the bathroom counter, your fingers dangling at the edge of your sink. Sitting up straight, you begin to feel conscious of your surroundings. “What are you doing?”

“It’s your favorite shirt, right? We need to wash the stain before it sticks,” He explains, his fingers going to your collar. You nearly stop breathing when he asks for permission to undress you, “May I?”

You swallow hard before you weakly nod.

He takes time unbuttoning your shirt one by one when you know he can rip it apart easily with one finger. He’s so gentle, his touches are paper-thin but whenever his icy fingertips make slight contact with your skin, it sends electricity to every inch of your body.

When he manages to untangle the clothing from your body, you’re only left in your bra and your black satin lace cami top. You can tell he tries to be polite by not staring at what you’re wearing, and instead immediately drags your blouse to the sink, drenching it with water.

“Where did you place the detergent again?” He asks, reaching up over your head to check on the top cabinet and he’s so fucking close that you can see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he speaks. And it’s really, really tempting to just lean over and—

Donghyuck flinches when he feels you sinking your face in the crook of his neck, mapping your lips on his skin, breathing in his scent. You don’t know how vampires usually smell like but Donghyuck reminds you of summer even when you’re not sure how summer smells like. It’s funny how you’re not making sense, even in your own thoughts.

Pushing you away by the shoulders, Donghyuck’s eyes gleam in the way you’ve never seen before. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I…” You can’t form a word—you can’t even form a thought as you’re too busy staring at his lips, how smooth they look, how thrilling they must feel against your own. And maybe he’s thinking the same thing about yours because when you lean in for a taste, he meets you halfway.

It’s warm and it doesn’t make any sense, because the rest of his body is icy cold but as you press your mouth against his, all you can think about is how his lips are warm and soft, so fucking soft and delightful and maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but you don’t care.

You breathe heavily through your nose, yanking at the collar of his shirt so he’s closer to you than he’s ever been, and you tilt your head slightly, angling your face so you can meld your lips deeper against his. He instinctively reacts by holding the side of your face, fingers slipping between your strands, tips curling around your nape.

He kisses better than any man you’ve ever been with and you’re sure he’s better than any man you’ll ever date in the future because Donghyuck knows what he’s doing, even when he’s caught by surprise.

Sliding your hand up to his chest, you can tell how his skin stands in contrast to the warmth of his mouth and it makes you shiver, your breathing rags, and you moan into his mouth, tracing your tongue along the puncture of his fang that’s still retracted, almost as normal as a human’s but something inside you tells you it’s not going to stay that long if you continue doing this.

So anticipation builds inside you because there’s absolutely no way you’re going to stop what you’re doing.

But Donghyuck is surprisingly more chivalrous than he looks. He pulls away, giving you a few inches of space to break the attraction. It’s not enough, your mind is still heavily clouded by the thoughts of him, so you reach up to kiss him again, catching his lower lip between yours.

“No, wait,” he says, voice sounding breathy though he doesn’t breathe. He circles his fingers around your wrists, holding them down against the counter so you won’t be able to move.

“Let me just kiss you,” you plead, eyes dazed and desperate. “Please.”

His chuckles are soft, almost inaudible. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not, I swear.” It’s horribly embarrassing how you’re itching for his touch as if losing physical contact with him causes you madness. “Hold up your fingers and ask me to count them. I’ll guess it right, trust me, so can you just—” You try to move your hand to pull him close but his grip around your wrist is stronger than your strength. “Hyuck—”

“Look, I want this just as much as you do—” He hisses when you’re using your knee this time, sliding it between his legs, giving him the friction that he needs. “Fuck. I probably want this more than you do, but—” He loses control for a split second, re-attaching his mouth to yours with so much fervor, tongues desperate to taste one another. The way you whimper against him makes him groan, his hand sliding down your thigh and spreading your legs apart so he can fit himself between them.

It’s when his fangs suddenly puncture your lips, drawing a hint of blood and making you cry out in surprise that he wakes up from his reverie, pushing himself away immediately to the other side of the room. You almost topple forward from suddenly losing him to lean on but manage to keep your balance by gripping at the edge of the counter.

Donghyuck turns around, facing the bathroom tiles as he leans one hand against the wall while his other one covers his mouth.

“Hyuck—”

“Sorry, let me just—“ His shoulders are shaking, trying his best to calm himself and the thirst that overwhelmed him earlier. “They’ll go back in a minute.”

“No.” You jump down from the counter, moving to his spot with careful steps. “Let me see them.”

He shakes his head, still not turning around to face you.

“I want to see them, Hyuck.” You place your hand on his shoulder, caressing him gently until he finally submits to your touch.

You only ever saw him with his fangs retracted twice in your life but even then, it was always too dark and too fast for you to see him properly. Now, you can take your time.

He’s so fascinating.

His eyes, as they peer into you in concern and uncertainty that he might hurt you, are glowing brightly in the color of topaz and they’re strikingly beautiful that you can barely look at anywhere else. His fangs are larger but he can still hide them behind his lips if needed. It’s the way they become frighteningly sharp that sends a shiver down your spine but you brave yourself enough to reach out to him.

“C-can I touch…?” You hesitantly ask, and he looks conflicted by the question but soon gives you a timid nod. He parts his mouth slightly so you can trace your fingertip along his cuspid, and you flinch as it feels like a knife splitting your skin.

He hastily pulls back, terrified at the thought of hurting you. “You’re okay?”

“Do it with me.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath, your heartbeat going crazy. “I want you to drink from me.”

“You’re crazy—”

“Please.” You lay a hand on his chest, tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to his eyes. “Just try, Hyuck…”

The glimmer in his eyes shows that he’s yearning to fulfill your wish but he cups your cheek again, telling you, “You’re gonna regret this in the morning.”

“I won’t.” Your fingers find a home in his waves. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time so—”

A high-pitched yelp escapes your lips and you have to muffle the rest of your scream by mouthing against the fabric that covers his shoulder because Donghyuck doesn’t waste any second after he heard your confession. His canines are prickling against the skin under your jaw, just between the earlobe and the collarbone. And it hurts when he sinks them—so, so badly—that tears begin to form almost instantly behind your closed lids. Donghyuck suddenly lets you go, his eyes widening as he gazes at the way blood is gushing through his bite mark. “Fuck,” he says, “How can you taste so—” and he dives in again, moaning rather loudly when the warmth of your blood fills his mouth, swallowing a big gulp each time. “So fucking good,” he murmurs in pleasure, tightening his hold desperately around your waist as if you’re the thread that keeps him alive.

The pain only stays for a few seconds before a rush of endorphin seeps into your skin, running through your veins and pumping euphoria to every inch of your body. You slowly relax against his chest, eyes becoming half-lidded as you go into a trance, heartbeat slowing. You’ve never done any methamphetamine in your life but you imagine that it must feel somewhat like this.

“Hyuck…” You breathe out, feeling a little bit lightheaded, the strap of your camisole falling off your shoulder. You can feel your knees slowly giving out under your weight. “I… I can’t stand…”

He yanks himself away for a second, only to lift you so you can wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck. He carries you back to the counter, placing you down in the same spot as before, your legs dangling in the air.

“Better?” He asks, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb along your cheekbone. You nod, eyes going down to focus on his fangs again. His lips are painted with your blood, with some of it trickling down his chin. He’s a monster and he definitely looks like one, but his eyes are tender and his hands are silky smooth on your skin.

He slides his hand down to the hem of your camisole, fingers rubbing against the fabric as he peppers soft kisses along your jawline. “Is this one your favorite too?”

“Huh?” You’re having the hardest time trying to focus. “Oh… No, not really.”

“Well, then,” his lips are still sucking bruises on your neck when he rips both of your camisole and your bra with one flick of his hand, exposing your bare chest to the air, making you jump in surprise.

“Hyuck—” You’re silenced with another kiss, and it’s so consuming, so deep, so wild that you nearly sob against his mouth. The taste of copper makes you frown in discomfort but the knot starts to loosen when his tongue darts out to meet you in a messy kiss.

His hand is going down to your breast, cupping the side while he runs his thumb along your sensitive bud, making you rake your nails against his back in response. His other hand is tracing the curve of your waist, going down to your hips before he tears your skirt away, tossing the clothing somewhere across the room, following your previous ones.

“Tell me if you want to stop,” he says, hooking his hands at the back of your knees before he pulls your legs forward, pressing his hardness against the wetness of your lingerie. You whine, circling your legs around his waist for stability, and murmurs, “No, don’t stop, please,” against his ear.

It’s not fair that he’s still fully clothed so you frantically toy with the buttons of his shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders with so much eagerness before you roam your lips to every inch of his exposed skin.

Donghyuck licks along the wound of his previous bite, emitting a sinful moan from the back of his throat when your blood sparks ecstasy in his mouth. His fingers are tentatively rubbing you over your lingerie and you beg with your lips muffled by the skin of his chest, “Take it off, just take it off, please—“

You can feel a tiny laugh reverberating from his chest over your desperation but you don’t care. You really are that desperate.

Donghyuck is more than willing to comply, sliding the lingerie down your thighs and you help him push it off your legs completely. You guide his palm to your heat, his fingers immediately sliding between your folds, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. His mouth finds his way down the valley of your breasts and goes lower and lower until he has his head between your thighs.

You nibble at your lip in anticipation when he presses open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh. Donghyuck makes sure he has his eyes fixed on yours when he dips his fangs into your supple skin, making you quiver with the sensation.

“God, Hyuck.” You’re going insane, you can feel it. “I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me.”

And he probably is too because he’s abandoning all of his self-control at once. The way he sucks bruises on your skin, lapping at the trail of blood that painted your body is almost animalistic, raw passion mixed with lust and uncontrollable desire. He unbuckles his belt in hurry, pushing his jeans and boxers down just low enough to release himself from its confines. You can feel his tip grazing against your clit before he glides his length down your folds, pulling you by the legs so you’re almost laying down on the counter, half of your back pressed against the mirror behind you.

His eyes are hooded but they speak reassurance when they bore into yours. “I’ll be gentle.”

Now that it finally sinks you’re going to do this for the first time, your lustful desire gradually changes into jitters. You nod, permitting him to proceed.

The feeling of him stretching you little by little is absolutely painful and he can tell that too, hissing, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” as his eyebrows adjoin in the middle. You can barely stand the pain and you’re about to stop him by reaching out a hand, but he grabs your wrist and sinks his teeth to your skin.

Another jolt of pain sends tremors all over your body but just like before, another rush of endorphin hits you like a wave, gradually reducing your pain until you’re in haze again, blissful even, but also even more aroused than before, hungry for his touch.

“You’re okay?” He asks, licking the blood that trails down your arm. “Are you still in pain?”

You’re breathing hard but you can feel your heartbeat slowing. “Stop talking and fuck me already.”

His glowing eyes are gazing down at you with desire, intense with lust. He runs his tongue along his lower lip once, smirking as he says, “Yes, Ma’am.”

Even when he said he was going to be gentle with you, he’s doing the exact opposite. Or maybe he is going gentle, which only makes you wonder how wild can he be when he’s not holding back. The thought of him losing control of his mind as he pounds into you senselessly makes you shudder, tightening yourself around his length unconciously.

“My God.” The feeling of your heat enveloping him—squeezing around him—makes him drop his temple on your shoulder, dissolving him into a groaning mess. “You are driving me insane, do you know that?”

“Don’t hold back,” you hold his face, caressing his sharp jawline with trembling fingers. “Just do what you want.”

“But I’ll break you.” Although his eyes seem like he’s about to grant your wish.

You let your tongue slide up from his chin to his lower lip, stopping just to whisper, “Then break me apart, I don’t care,” before you crush his mouth with yours again.

Donghyuck’s thrust is both deep and hard, knocking your breath with each pound as he holds you by your hips, nails clawing into the skin. Maybe it’s the trace of endorphin left in your body that heightened all your senses while at the same time washing all your pain away because everything feels so unbelievably good. His touches, his kisses, his thrusts, and the way he moves his hips faster and faster until you can’t properly breathe—everything feels amazing.

And his voice—God, his voice—the way he moans and grunts against your ear, or when he sprouts expletives while he buries his face deep in the crook of your neck, lips scorching against your skin, makes you think fuck why did I waste a fucking year doing nothing when I can have him like—

You’re interrupted from finishing your thought when Donghyuck suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper from the loss, and turns you around, forcing you to land on your feet again, your stomach pressed against the edge of the counter. You place both hands on the marbled surface as he pulls your hips closer to him, pressing his hardness against your behind as he presses his chest to your spine.

“Come here, look,” he says, holding you by the chin and lifts your face so you can gaze directly into the mirror. He shifts his hand, now holding back your bangs so your eyes are reflected perfectly. “Look how beautiful you are,” he purrs near your ear, the tip of his nose brushing against your jawline.

It’s both embarrassing and arousing to see yourself being held domineeringly by him, the curves of your body fit his perfectly even from behind. Your lips are bruised and swollen, blood smears messily around your neck, your wrist, your thigh even on your hips from the way he trailed his coated fingers along the skin.

Donghyuck raises two of his blood-smeared fingers to your lips, mixing your lipstick with your own blood before he slowly drags his fingers away, painting blurred lines of crimson to your cheek. He sighs at the sight, eyes half-lidded as they glow brighter. “If I’m a monster,” he says, voice low and breathy, “Then you’re a fucking goddess.”

You shudder and avert your gaze, ashamed of how sultry you look in the mirror and how sinful his gaze is as they rake over your body. He presses close, completing the dip of your spine with his chest like a matching puzzle. His fingers curl around the front of your neck, forcing you to look at your reflection once more as he licks a stripe up your wound. “We look good together, don’t you think?”

You’re breathing hard, chest heaving up and down with each breath. “Hyuck…” You crave for him to fill you again like before. “Please, just—"

He glides his hand down between your legs, teasing you with small touches but strong and fast enough to make you quiver. “So sensitive too,” he chuckles, nipping slightly at your earlobe. “You’re so fucking cute.”

Before you can retort anything back, he pushes the head of his cock into your heat again, agonizingly slowly at first but slams the rest of it with one snap of his hips.

“I’ve thought about this—about us—I think about you a lot,” he confesses, with low groans interrupting his lines. “You’re really driving me insane with that face of yours, your lips, your voice—whenever you call my name, whenever you pout after losing an argument—the way you secretly stare at me wherever I go—”

“I don’t—” You gasp, thighs trembling under your weight and he wraps an arm along your stomach, holding you still while he pushes in deeper. “I never—”

“And the way you lie just like now, with that blush creeping on your face.” He chuckles, kissing the middle of your shoulder blades. “Fuck, you’re so cute—so fucking cute that it pisses me off whenever you talk about Mark when we both know he can’t satisfy you the way I do—he doesn’t understand you— doesn’t get your stupid jokes—” He begins to fall out of rhythm, hips moving faster with each thrust. “He doesn’t deserve you—I deserve you.”

You catch the sight of your reflection, noticing how he sometimes throws his head back in pleasure, his strong hands gripping on the sides of your waist as he rolls his hips again and again, thrusting into you until you can only cry out his name and nothing more. It’s too obscene, too erotic for your eyes to witness, and when he locks his gaze with yours in the mirror, you nearly faint.

“H-Hyuck—” You reach out a hand back, trying to find his for support but he holds your wrist against your spine, pumping into you with strong strokes, leaving you with no options other than pressing the side of your face against the marble countertop, mouth parting in a silent scream.

The sounds of his groans and your whimpers echo through the bathroom walls, along with the sound of your skin meeting his. His teeth prickling against your shoulder, his eyes going to see how you look underneath him in the mirror before he sinks his fangs deep into you, making various sounds of pleasure as he drinks your blood.

The sensation of his thrust, his fingers slightly choking you as he holds you by your neck, and the amount of endorphin that washes over you soon drives you to your release and he embraces you closer, feeling every shake that you emit directly with his body. And maybe it’s from the loss of blood or everything else combined, but your vision starts to blur and suddenly your world turns black.

***

When you wake up, you’re laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling you’ve seen a million times with your eyes barely open. You’re still pretty much in a haze, not sure if you’re still floating inside your dream or back in reality. It’s until your door opens with a click that you can start to differentiate.

“Ah, you’re awake.” He peeks inside through the door holding your favorite mug, already dressed back in his favorite black tee and matching jeans. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. Can I come in?”

He walks in without needing an answer and, weirdly, he doesn’t seem nervous or awkward when the sight of him already makes you blush fervently and your heart races fast. A flashback comes in like an unstoppable train and you almost reach out a hand to your neck, wanting to know if his bite mark is still there.

The way he acts is so natural that you begin to wonder whether all that happened was simply your imagination. But when you try to move your body, jolts of pain runs like electricity to your bones, making you freeze instantly. It feels like somebody is trying to crack your head open, tearing your body apart and you fall back to the bed, weak and exhausted.

“You all right?” He immediately rushes to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed, checking on your face. “You lost a lot of blood, so I wouldn’t move too much if I were you. I brought you some coconut water, here,” he places the mug down on your nightstand. “And some supplements too. They’ll help with your blood loss. I’ll cook some fish and eggs for dinner later.”

You can only nod, too tired to even speak. His eyes begin to soften, his fingers reaching out to caress the strands of your hair. “I guess I went a bit overboard, I’m sorry.”

“A bit…?” You croak out.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats but can’t help a smile forming on his face. “I tried so hard not to, but you were so cute.” He leans closer, his lips hovering above yours but he rethinks his decision before he closes the gap, and moves to press a gentle kiss on your forehead instead. “You should get more sleep,” he murmurs against your skin. “Call me when you need help. I’ll be right outside.”

And he doesn’t spare you a glance as he stands up from the bed, but the way he trips on his feet once makes you realize that oh, maybe he’s embarrassed about all this too.

“Hyuck.”

He stops in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder as he lays a hand against your doorframe. “Yeah?”

“Where does this leave us?”

His face slightly goes stern. Turning over to face you, he questions further. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” you pause, wetting your lip in anxiety. “Do you want us to pretend it didn’t happen?”

His eyes darken, somehow seem a bit upset. “Do you?”

“I… Uhh…” The way your heart is beating so fast makes you feel nauseous. “I don’t, but—”

“Then don’t suggest something like that,” he sighs, walking back to your bed again. He kneels on the floor so you’re eye-to-eye, squeezing your hand with his larger one. “Don’t scare me, okay? I finally have you where I want you.”

You look away, attempting to hide your flustered face. “But then, what are we now?”

“I don’t care what we are. I just want us to keep doing this.”

“Doing what, sex? You drinking my blood?”

“No, idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, yes, of course, that too. Plenty of that. But what I meant was I want to continue to have this kind of relationship with you. Us living together, making fun of each other, having dinners together, even spend hours watching re-runs of your stupid tv shows—”

“They’re not stupid.”

“They’re stupid. I only watch them because of you. You are my favorite show.” He winks, breaking the tension and you blurt out laughing, shoving him playfully by the shoulder. But when your giggle starts to fade, Donghyuck leans in to cup your cheek, smiling softly. “I just want to spend more time with you, as long as you’d let me. So can we have that? Please?”

“I…” You’re so captivated by his features, especially the shape of his lips. “I guess…”

“You guess?” He scrunches up his nose. “You’re playing hard to get again? Seriously? After all the begging you did in the bathroom?” Seeing you blush only makes him want to tease you harder. “What was it that you said? God, Hyuck, I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me—“

“Okay, shut up, geez!” You slap a hand against his mouth, steam practically coming out of your ears. “Yes, we can have that. I’d… love to have that actually.”

Kissing your inner palm, he lovingly smiles against your skin, appreciating your honesty. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Sweetheart?”

***

Read the sequel here

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headaching · 3 years

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because they're always sad, i give you domestic witty banter zukka fighting about the dishes after their first* kiss

Suddenly, Zuko pulls away from the kiss and whispers, “Wait.”

Fear courses Sokka’s veins as he asks, “What’s wrong?”

Zuko glances at the sink in concern. He murmurs, “Are you really not gonna wash the cup?” Sokka rolls his eyes and tilts Zuko’s head to one side, pointing his worried stare toward the dining room.

Between sporadic kisses along Zuko’s jaw, Sokka observes, “You’re insane.”

When Zuko peels away and proclaims, “I’ll do it,” Sokka grabs his hand, effectively halting him.

“Hold on,” Sokka says, pulling Zuko toward him. Zuko sighs and plays with the collar of Sokka’s shirt. “If I wash the mug right now, will you go with me to the top secret surprise location?”

Zuko says, “You won’t give me any hints?” and pouts his lower lip. Sokka doesn’t hesitate to kiss it and shake his head solemnly. Zuko rolls his eyes, but concedes, “Fine.”

Victoriously, Sokka grins and lifts Zuko without warning. Zuko gasps and hisses, “Sokka!” but his legs hook around Sokka’s waist all the same. Sokka ignores him and walks Zuko farther into the kitchen. He sets him down on the countertop beside the sink and accepts the unamused glare waiting for him.

“What?” Sokka asks. “You never heard of sweeping someone off their feet?” He nudges Zuko’s cheek with his knuckle and Zuko swats at him.

“You’re not funny,” Zuko dismisses, but when Sokka leans in and places his hands on either side of the counter by Zuko’s hips, his legs easily accept Sokka’s torso.

“Good thing you’re not paying me to be funny,” Sokka says, and Zuko gives him a funny look.

“I’m not paying you at all.”

“You’re not?” Sokka asks, then kisses Zuko demonstratively, slow and delicate. By the time they pull away, his fingers have gravitated to Zuko’s hips, and Zuko’s to Sokka’s neck.

Zuko’s smile says, You’re stupid, one Sokka’s quite familiar with. “Smooth,” Zuko breathes and Sokka shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Go on,” Zuko says, pointing at the sink. “I’m not paying you to stand around.”

Sokka shakes his head, but he walked right into that one. “You’re the boss,” he replies, pulling his hands away from Zuko in defeat. Sokka separates himself from Zuko entirely to stand in front of the sink.

As Sokka wets the sponge and lathers it with dish soap, he notices Zuko’s fingers drumming steadily against the counter. “So…” he says, and Sokka waits for him to continue, but the only sound in the room is running water.

“So?” Sokka repeats and nudges Zuko’s leg with his hip.

After a shallow breath, Zuko asks, “What does this mean? For us?” Sokka can hear the apprehension in his voice, hesitant and quiet.

“What do you want it to mean?”

Zuko’s eyes fall to the ground and he repeats, “What do you want it to mean?”

Sokka sets the cup in the sink to point a soapy finger at Zuko, “I could do this all day, handsome.” Though Zuko’s scowling, Sokka celebrates the blush in his neck. Sokka inches his finger toward Zuko’s face, prompting him to push his arm away.

“Don’t,” Zuko whines and wipes his cheek, even though Sokka didn’t touch him. “I don’t want soap on my face,” he grumbles, and Sokka scoffs.

As he goes back to the task at hand, Sokka replies, “I thought you’d be into that since you have a hard on for bleach or whatever.” Zuko’s leg swings forward and jabs Sokka’s arm, only momentarily throwing him off balance. Sokka grins if only to himself as he rinses the dish for a final time. “Hand me a towel?” he asks when the water’s turned off.

Zuko doesn’t move, his indignant expression still fresh from the bleach comment. Sokka sighs and sets the cup on the counter, then occupies the space between Zuko’s legs once again. With a smirk, Sokka reaches into the drawer between Zuko’s knees and procures the towel himself. “I forgot,” Sokka murmurs, his voice low, “I’m on the job.”

Finally, Zuko’s stubbornness subsides as his fingers caress Sokka’s shoulders. “You didn’t answer my question,” Zuko points out, and Sokka sets the towel on the counter next to him to rest his palms on Zuko’s thighs.

“You didn’t, either,” Sokka counters.

Zuko huffs, “Sokka,” and throws him a serious look.

Sokka smiles just a little and presses into Zuko’s legs. “Zuko,” he says slowly, reveling in the quieting effect it seems to have on him. Sokka’s smile drifts away as a memory sparks his mind. “Do you remember what you said that night?” Sokka asks.

Zuko’s eyebrows furrow. “That night?”

“The night,” Sokka reiterates with a pointed look. “You know.” Zuko waves a hand in the air, indicating he remembers. He nods slowly.

“Yeah. I said a lot of things that night.” Zuko’s eyes fall past Sokka’s shoulder sheepishly. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“You said you weren’t ready,” Sokka explains, and his throat begins to close at the memory. “When you talked about dating someone, you said you weren’t ready.”

Zuko makes a funny noise resembling a laugh. He tugs Sokka closer, their lips a moment apart. “I was always ready for you,” he replies like it’s obvious, and to him it is, Sokka realizes. Tears sting his eyes as they did that night, but for completely different reasons.

“What do you mean?” Sokka hears himself ask, but mentally, he’s far away. I was always ready for you.

“Come on,” Zuko scoffs, accented by an eye roll. “Isn’t it obvious? Hasn’t it always been obvious?”

Oh. Everything stops. Then, it all falls into alignment, a straight line in Sokka’s brain.

Wildly, Sokka begins laughing, to Zuko’s confusion. “Yes,” he manages eventually, “it has always been obvious, hasn’t it?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Zuko, it’s been you since the day I met you.”

Across Zuko’s face, Sokka studies the array of emotions starting with joy and ending with shock. “What?” It sounds numb, unsure.

Sokka has to remind himself it’s okay to be honest now. “I thought you wouldn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want to risk what we have, or make things difficult if—”

“But that’s what I thought,” Zuko interjects, and Sokka wishes he could know what he’s thinking. Sokka thinks he might be having an oh moment of his own. “Shit,” he whispers, and Sokka can’t help but smile.

“Yeah. Shit,” he repeats. Zuko’s hands leave Sokka’s back to hide his face in his arms as he groans, embarrassed.

“It’s been, like, two years,” Zuko says to the floor. Sokka’s hands are still on Zuko’s thighs, so when he turns his palms upward, he’s cradling Zuko’s hands. When Sokka’s thumbs caress Zuko’s skin, Zuko looks up from his hideaway with soft, affectionate eyes. “That’s so much wasted time,” he adds, his tone regretful.

Sokka’s fingers leave their resting glace to glide over Zuko’s shoulders and press into the muscles gently. “We have now,” Sokka replies hopefully, and tilts Zuko’s chin down with one hand. “Let’s not waste any more time,” he whispers, and Zuko’s lips are against his.

The kiss is delicate and encapsulates Sokka in safety, along with Zuko’s hands cupping his face. Zuko kisses him in quick succession a few times, then pulls away to touch their foreheads together. His eyes remain closed as he asks, “Is this really happening?”

Sokka exhales a fond breath and replies, “I hope so.”

Zuko’s eyes open and Sokka pulls away enough to look into them. He finds happiness, and maybe a little uncertainty, but he’s not worried. Sokka is confident he can fix that. Suddenly, Zuko takes a sharp breath and rolls his eyes. “So, that surprise location…” Sokka knows the suspense is killing him, but that’s part of the fun.

“Right. Ready to go?”

“I guess,” Zuko huffs, and uses Sokka’s shoulders to jump from the counter onto the floor.

When Zuko turns for the doorway, Sokka stops him with, “Wait.” When Zuko turns around, Sokka makes a show of picking up the cup and drying it with the towel. “My work here isn’t done.”

“Oh, right,” Zuko says, throwing his hands up. With the wrung out sponge, Sokka wipes the counter where Zuko was sitting.

“Gotta clean this since someone had his ass all over it,” Sokka says provokingly, then shakes his head in faux dismay.

“Shut up,” Zuko mumbles. Sokka puts the sponge, towel, and mug in their proper spots, then reports back to Zuko with his hands behind his back. Zuko claps sarcastically, if a clap can be sarcastic, and says, “Good job. That only took about—” He checks a pretend watch, “five times longer than it would’ve taken anyone else.”

Sokka’s pout is immediate. “Does that mean I don’t get a tip?” Zuko’s lips shrug to one side in consideration.

“I guess I’ll give you one,” he decides, then pecks Sokka on the lips. It’s far too fast for a tip in Sokka’s opinion, but before he can voice it, Zuko’s already running for the door.

His laugh is giddy and taunting, but Sokka isn’t far behind him. “Get back here!” he yells.

“Come get me!” is Zuko’s reply, and it’s on.

The sounds of thudding feet and unabashed laughter ring through their apartment like a song.

#* it's not really their first kiss but that's a different part of the story :^)#zukka #zukka fic #zukka fluff #zuko #sokka #modern au #becks #my work #side note i would’ve done this better and more even if i knew this would happen but alas

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Tied With a Bow

A Holiday Drabble! I wrote this on my break so hope y’all enjoy it (please let me know what you think!)

Warnings: nonconsent/rape, kidnapping, mentions of stalking.

You open your eyes but the world remains black. You smell a fire and hear the crackle; the warmth waver against your bare legs. Your jeans are gone, the rest of your clothes too. All that hides your body is an unseen bra that tickles the front of your breasts and a thin, barely discernable thong.

You shiver. Your blindfold is thin and cool. A thick length of ribbon knotted at the back of your head.

You remember slivers of what came before. Christmas Eve. You just finished up with your mother for the night. Your parents left the next morning for a Caribbean getaway and you were content at a quiet day to yourself.

You never made it home. You recall that much. The footsteps just behind you and a glimpse back revealing nothing more than the snowy yard and your parents' glowing decorations.

It happened in the car. The engine rumbled and you drove off without haste. You remember a rustle behind you and suddenly a hand around your mouth. You lost control and it all went black.

Then you were here. You sit there for what feels like forever in the din of the fireplace flickering on the other side of your blindfold. You smelled pine and felt the nip of snow as it rattled the windows.

Then voices. Deep, unfamiliar. You hold your breath and wriggle in the chair. Your hands are bound behind you and your ankles to the wide legs, you can do nothing but listen as the strangers come nearer.

"If you weren't do damn late," the words grow clearer and your veins sear with adrenaline,

"Your present's just in there."

You're frantic as footsteps sound on the floor.

"Oh? You actually got me something this year?" A sardonic chuckle dies halfway as the steps stop. "Buck?" His tone turns to surprise.

"All yours," the other man responds, "a few scratches but she's in good shape."

"How--" he clears his throat, "wait..." suddenly the footsteps are marching towards you. You panic and struggle to free yourself. The chair rocks and is caught before it can fall over. A hand grabs your chin and stills you. "It's...her? You know?"

"All those solo missions. Always distracted. You usually catch on when I tail you but," the clap makes you flinch, "Surprising but I suppose you need something."

The hand falls away and you feel the stranger move past you. "And?"

"And what?"

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

"She's cute. Sweet. Hell, if I'd seen her first, I might have been the same way." A sniff between words. "How did you find her anyway?"

"Just... chance. I..." the man is hesitant. You're petrified. He's been watching you but you don't know who he is. "She has a family. They'll look for her."

"Let me worry about that," a snicker.

"I..." he's breathless as your heart is pounding.

"Hear that," the other taunts, "go on and introduce yourself. Maybe she won't be so nervous."

There's a silence and you sense more movement. He's in front of you, you know it even though you can't see him. He says your name and you scrunch your nose to keep from crying.

"Get away from me," you utter, "go!"

"Sweetie," he touches your knee and you try to shake him off. His hand grips you tighter. "I'm not going to hurt you." He sighs. "What did you do to her? You have to tie her up like this?"

"Got in a bit of a bender but she's fine," the other assures, "you can untie her but she's your problem then."

The man lets go of your knee and reaches around your head to untie the ribbon. He kneels before you as he looks you over, rubbing the ribbon between his fingers. You know him. You've seen him before, but never in person.

Steve Rogers is even bigger in real life. He smiles. Those blue eyes that always seem warm in pictures are startling.

"Please, let me go," you whine.

His brow twitches and he tilts his head; confused, pleading, you cannot tell. But you know from that look he won't oblige.

"You're scared?" He leans back on his heels. "You know who I am?" He watches you and all you can do is gape back at him. He holds out his hand. "I'm Steve."

He realises his mistake as you only blink at him and he drops his hand. He rubs his palms together and hesitates before he stands.

"I'm sorry about my friend," he looks to the doorway, "Buck, can you get her a blanket?"

The other man huffs but you hear him go. Steve turns to the fire and stoops to move a log from the metal basket onto the dwindling embers. He turns back and shifts his weight on his feet.

"I... I want to untie you but you can't run." He says carefully.

"If you think I'm going to run, why would you want me to stay?" You hiss.

"You can," the other man speaks as he enters. "One of us will catch you."

You glance over your shoulder as he nears and hands Steve the blanket. He watches and lets out a breath.

"I dress her up all nice for you and you’re coverin' her up?" he tuts.

You recognise him too. Captain America's ever loyal sidekick, Bucky Barnes. He grins as he meets your gaze and winks.

"Isn't she cute? Maybe I should have put her in white." Bucky sneers and smacks Steve's shoulder.

"You're scaring her," Steve smacks him with his knuckles, “sweetie," he turns back to you, "will you be good if I untie you?"

You look between him and Bucky. You squirm and blink away another wave of terror.

"Please," you whisper at first then repeat yourself louder.

Steve nods and rounds you. You feel him picking at your binds as Bucky rolls his eyes.

"Don't say I didn't try to help," Bucky grumbles and goes to the fireplace. "Any plans for her? I'm sure you've been thinking about it for a while."

"Enough, Buck," your hands fall loose and Steve comes back around to free your ankles. He looks up at you. "Please, don't listen to him."

You don't say anything. The whole situation is too confusing. Surreal. Your ankles come away from the chair legs and you slide forward. Steve stands and catches you by your shoulders before you can stand.

"You okay?" He plays with the fringe at the edge if the blanket as it rests over your shoulder.

You sit back and shrug away his touch.

"I don't understand," you say, "I really don't."

"I didn't think it would be like this--" Steve is interrupted by a scoff and sends Bucky a sharp look. The latter raises his brows and strolls from the room with a sarcastic salute.

Steve backs away and you watch as he passes the chair you sit in to sit on the long sofa. He pats the spot beside him.

"Can we talk?" He asks as if you could day no.

You rise and sweep the blanket around you before it can fall. You near him and sit as far from him as you can.

"I didn't think he would... it's my fault. I just could never build up the to-- to--" he looks down bashfully and drags his nail along the faded denim along his thigh. "To say hello."

"How do you... know me?" You ask.

"MrsRogersTeddy?" He smiles as his eyes flick up. The username, almost forgotten, has you pressing yourself against the arm. You shake your head at him in disbelief.

"I haven't posted in years," you murmur, "how..."

"Well, that's why I went looking. The blog was inactive but I love your stories. They're so good."

"They're trash. Sometimes you just get so bored that living in dumb fantasies is better than anything in the real world. They were just stupid fics. They didn't..." his face falls and you speak slower, realising you've said you much, "mean anything."

He frowns and sits back, deflated. His fingers tap on his jeans. “They mean something to me.” He says deliberately. Slowly, he turns. “Don’t I mean anything to you?”

“I don’t know you,” you regret your words the moment they hang in the air before you.

“Then why would you write about me? Why?” The vein in his forehead sticks out and his jaw squares. “I don’t get it.” He grabs you before you can react and pulls you to him. The blanket slips between your bodies. “You wrote about us!”

“No, no, they were all made up. It wasn’t about--”

“Shhhh,” he hushes you as his hand stretches across your throat. He flexes his fingers as he pushes you onto your back and lowers himself with you. He crushes you beneath him as he frames your faces with his hand. “You love me.”

“No,” you murmur, “Steve…”

“Don’t.” His voice is harsh as you stare up into his eyes. His pupils dilate and he smashes his lips into yours.

You push against his chest, the blanket twists at your waist. The bra, a dark blue with white fur trim, threatens to reveal all. His hand brushes down your neck and arm as he traces the length of your body to your hips. He pulls your leg around him as he moves between your thighs.

A rush of panic rises within and you whimper into his mouth. Your head is spinning and you can’t breath. You can barely think. You’re trapped with a stranger. Smothered by THE Captain America. And for days, weeks, months, who knows, he’s been stalking you. You never knew. How could you? It was unthinkable.

He draws away and gazes down at you. “Say you want me,” he purrs.

Your lips part but you can’t speak. He doesn’t wait anyway as he kisses you again. He’s tugging at the thin string of the thong, exploring your body with his hands. He shoves his thumb beneath the cup of the bra and teases your nipple. He grinds against you like a puritan.

You gasp as you turn your head away. You gulp for breath as his lips continue to your throat. He’s ravenous, unstoppable. He’s kissing, nipping, and sucking your flesh. You grasp at his thick bicep and claw at his firm chest. He is immovable but you are not.

His hand slides along your pelvis. The thong is scrunched from the friction of your bodies. He hums as he grazes your cunt with his fingertips. He nuzzles your neck and fumbles with his fly.

“No,” you beg, “Steve, please…” you’re desperate. “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I’m not,” he groans as he wriggles and pushes down the top of his jeans and rolls down the elastic of his briefs. He struggles for a moment and you refuse to look anywhere but the ceiling. “I’m not, I’m not…” he recites more to himself than you.

You kick your heels into his legs but he doesn’t even flinch. His hand is still moving between you. You feel him prod along your soft thigh. You writhe, you need him off of you. You’re sweating, stolid. You’ve never been so afraid. He drags his cock against your folds.

“Steve--”

He claps his hand over your mouth and enters you in a single thrust. You exclaim into his palm as he shakes and holds himself deep in you. His head hangs beside yours and his fingers curl as he muffles your distress.

He rocks his hips carefully. You squeeze him between your thighs unable to do much else. It hurts how full you are. Each time he tilts, he’s deeper inside you. Your walls cling to him and you close your eyes to the world. You want to forget where you are but you can’t as he brings you back each time he moves.

His tempo builds steadily. You ache; for him, because of him. Your body rebels as your mind shouts for rescue. There is no escape. You are caught in his embrace; in his scent.

He lifts himself and his hand falls away from your mouth. You bare your teeth as he pins your shoulders and holds himself over you. He slams his hips down and you yelp. Your lashes flutter open and you see a beast atop you. He is not the saviour painted across glossy magazines and inky newspapers. He is a man, base and bestial.

His flesh slaps loudly against yours. You peek down at the joining of your bodies, his shirt rides up on his firm stomach as the thong digs into your skin. Your tits are out as the bra slides further down your arms and torso.

He growls and your eyes meet. He hums but not for long, instead grunting with each thrust. He licks his lips as his gaze ventures down. He sits back and holds your hips. You cover your face with your arm. You’re cumming. You don’t want to but you can’t stop the tide that swirls around you. You’re drowning. You’re lost. You cannot find your way back in the storm.

His voice is louder. His groans carnal. He raises your left leg to rest against his chest. He hugs it as your muscles strain. You’re quaking, the entire couch is trembling. He bites his knuckles to stifle a cry. He bucks wildly as he spills into you.

When he is still, you feel as if you are still moving. Your thighs tingle and your vision clouds. He drops your leg and bends over you as he catches his breath. He blindly cradles your face as his breath washes over your chest.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” a shadow appears behind him. You see Bucky watching you with a grin. “So… where’s my present?”

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes x reader #drabble #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #one shot #holiday #captain america #mcu #marvel #fic #dark!fic #dark fic

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the-iceni-bitch · 4 years

Text

I’m Going to Take Care of You

Pairing: Thor/Fem-Reader

Words: 3502

Summary: A fun night out with the Avengers makes you realize you want something more from you friendship with Thor.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, size kink adjacent, fluff, SMUT, 18+

A/N: Whoo, I managed to keep it under 4000 words this time y’all. I loved writing Thor though. He’s such a sweetheart and really treats our reader right! Please enjoy and message if you want to be added to my permanent tags list!

“I got shots, bitches!!”

You set your carefully balanced tray on the table in the middle of everyone and started distributing tiny glasses around, grinning around the table as you did so.

“Goddamn it, Y/N. You and Nat are trying to kill us” Clint groaned as he took his shot from you and looked at it like he was about to throw up.

“Suck it up Barton.” Tony scolded. “These girls are out drinking us and refuse to black out before they do. Knock it back.”

You made sure everyone got a glass before taking one for yourself and settling back on the couch.

Nat downed hers easily and gave you a knowing grin once the taste hit her tongue. Clint, Tony, and Sam tossed theirs back together and immediately started spluttering and coughing. Steve paused before bringing his glass to his lips when he saw their reaction.

“Son of a bitch, what the fuck is this?” Tony exclaimed, grabbing a glass of water and chugging it as Clint headed to the bathroom, looking like he was going to hurl. Nat clapped her hand against Sam’s back as he tried to get a hold of himself. Steve was just looking at his shot with abject horror.

“We’re in Oslo so I got us Aquavit!” You grinned at Tony as he stared at you murderously. “Oh, my god Rogers, suck it up and drink it, it’s not going to kill you.”

Steve gave a shrug and chugged it, sucking air through his teeth and wincing as he swallowed. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’ve told you a million times, Y/N, you’re the only one who can drink that shit.” Nat laughed at you as Sam waved her off, his coughing fit finally ending.

“You’re all just pussies. Where the fuck is Thor? He always appreciates new liquor.” You searched the club for that giant golden retriever of a man before you heard his deep voice behind you.

“Is that more liquor? Excellent!” he exclaimed as you turned yourself around to give him a grin and handed him the last shot. He threw it back without hesitation and gave an appreciative nod. “What is this delicious nectar? We should get a bottle.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” You said, giving the rest of the group an exasperated look as you headed over to the bar, and returned with a full bottle of the spicy liquor and two clean highball glasses. You poured yourself and Thor two hefty portions and sat beside him on the couch.

“You two are insane.” Tony said, shaking his head as you tossed your drinks back and poured two more. “How are you still standing, Y/N? You’ve had almost as much to drink as a literal god!”

You just laughed at him giddily. You were pretty drunk at this point, but there was no way you were going to let anyone outdrink you tonight, you wanted to let go.

You had just finished your fifth mission with the Avengers. You had been apprehensive when you first moved onto the compound six months ago. You of course already know Nat and Clint, but it was a tight knit group, and you sometimes felt like a spare tire.

You spent most of the first few weeks in the lab, working on your serums and formulas, doing calculations into the small hours of the morning. Tony did his best to engage you, but you both only had the most basic understandings of each other’s fields. You did develop a healthy respect for each other during that time though, and you started to feel more at home.

Nat had finally convinced you to join the rest of the team for a workout after you had been there for a month. You were concerned about losing yourself and accidentally injuring someone, but Nat almost shoved you onto the mat to square up against Steve. She sat there with a smirk as the group watched him chase you around the mat, growing more and more frustrated as you slid out of his reach over and over. When you accidentally threw him into the ceiling one handed, you were sure they were going to shut you out. But Thor started laughing hysterically as the rest of them started teasing Rogers, and just like that, you were one of the group.

Thor and you bonded the most for some reason. You made each other laugh constantly, and being able to complain about your crazy families with someone else was a relief. You’d often stay up late together watching stupid movies or drinking some new liquor or beer you had discovered. He had once mentioned that he missed the tasted of mead, and the next day you surprised him with several large bottles you had gotten from a friend who brewed it on his property upstate. Sometimes when you got drunk enough, he’d let you braid his hair in intricate styles, not feeling an ounce of embarrassment when Tony would give him shit the next morning.

You became sparring partners as he was the only member of the team who could actually get you in a hold, and that translated well to you partnering on missions.

This latest one had been a doozy, busting an arms dealing ring that was suspected of distributing old HYDRA equipment. It was a success overall but had been exhausting. Nat and you always did your best to come up with some sort of morale booster after a mission and you somehow had convinced the team that a night of clubbing in downtown Oslo would be just the thing.

“Aww shit, is this Ghostface Killah?” You asked the room as a new song started. “This is my song! Let’s dance!”

“Girl, you have the best taste in music.” Sam said as he followed you onto the dance floor while Nat tried to coax Steve and Tony to join you. Thor tossed back his drink and strode after you.

The Norse God was a surprisingly good dancer. He didn’t seem to have the hangups you noticed from most white guys about their movements.

“This is a good song!” He shouted at you over the music “It reminds me of ‘Krakemal’.”

You had no idea what he was talking about so you just grinned at him as you whipped your hair around and swung your hips, losing yourself in the music. You loved dancing.

The song ended too soon and Tony came to let everyone know that Clint had finally stopped vomiting and the group was going to head back to the safehouse. Thor threw you over his shoulder as you headed out the door, making you squeal as he gave your ass a playful slap, not putting you down until you were walking down the street. He grinned down at you and started telling you a story about a snake. You were staring at him, breathless and giddy from the alcohol and you laughed when his story reached its conclusion, suddenly realizing that you were going to sleep with him.

He walked forward to chat with Steve and Nat put her arm through yours to chat.

“Sooooo…” she said slyly. “What’s going on with you and Point Break?”

“Oh god, Nat. I’m pretty sure I’m going to let him fuck me tonight.”

She laughed at that, tossing her head back. “Jesus Christ, it’s about time!”

You slapped her arm lightly and told her to shut up.

“You couldn’t have come to this realization a little earlier, Y/N? Now Tony’s going to win the bet!”

“Fuck, you perverts bet on when me and Thor would sleep together? Was anyone else in on this?”

“I mean, it was just me and Clint to start off then Tony found out and looped in the rest of team into it. He made a spreadsheet and everything. Rogers took some serious convincing. That big puppy thought it was ‘inappropriate and mean-spirited.’ Of course, then he walked in on one of your sparring sessions where you let yourself get pinned by that himbo a little longer than necessary and turned over his money with no problem.”

“Great. You guys are such good friends.” You said sarcastically.

“Not our fault you two idiots don’t have the emotional intelligence to just get to it. I’ve gotta tell the rest of the team to make sure you guys have some privacy.”

You hissed and tried to grab her as she scampered away to talk to Tony, who turned back and gave you a thumbs up and massive grin. You slapped your palm into your face and rubbed your thumb and forefinger into the ridges above your eyebrows.

“So, Natasha told me I should come back here and talk to you. She wouldn’t tell me what about and just laughed when I asked.” Thor had a look of slight confusion on his face as he rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, pulling the bottom edge of his shirt up enough to expose the top of his boxer briefs and give you a glimpse at his happy trail. You felt yourself clench and fought the urge to moan.

You arrived back at the safehouse then, and Tony and Natasha did their best to usher everyone upstairs discreetly. She gave you a wink as she followed behind Steve at the back of the group and disappeared from view.

“So, more drinks?” Thor clapped his hands and rubbed them together, heading into the kitchen as he shed his coat.

“God, yes!” You followed him, removing your own coat and tossing it onto the couch. You had no idea how to approach this without making things painfully awkward.

He found an opened bottle of mead and poured you each a glass, leaning back against the counter as he sipped at the sweet liquor.

You peered at him over the edge of your glass as you contemplated your next move. His plain white tee was just tight enough that you could see the shape of the muscles in his torso. His arms were crossed, making his thick arms flex deliciously. You wanted to take a bite out of his bicep. You moved your eyes back up to his face and found him staring back at you. Neither of you said anything as you gazed into each other’s eyes.

“Fuck it.” You said, tossing back the rest of your drink and setting the empty glass on the counter before you took three steps forward and pressed the front of you body into him, pulling his face down to yours and kissing him hungrily.

You felt his posture change as he set his own glass behind him before grabbing your hips and drawing you even closer to him. You felt his cock starting to harden through his jeans and you let out a moan. He growled softly into your mouth before bringing one hand up to the back of your neck and drawing you away from him briefly as he studied your face.

“How drunk are you, Y/N?” he asked, a look of concern on his face.

Your inebriation had faded on the walk home and that kiss had sobered you up considerably. “Just buzzed.” You told him, breathlessly.

“Good.”

He didn’t say anything else, just put a hand on your ass and lifted you to wrap your legs around him as kissed your neck, scraping his teeth along your collarbone.

“God, keep doing that.” You said, twisting your hands into the back of his tee as he dipped his tongue into the hollow of your throat.

He gave a low hum against your neck and you felt it resound in your core, a rush of arousal soaking your panties as you felt your cunt throb with desire.

“Not gonna make it to the couch.” He whispered into your neck, sucking softly and raising a small bruise.

“Fine.” You couldn’t focus on anything, his mouth was so good and felt like it was leaving a trail of fire wherever it met your skin.

He moved forward and lowered you onto the counter gently. He brought his mouth back up to yours and kissed you softly as he moved his hands from your hips to the buttons of your blouse. He started undoing them slowly, his thick fingers moving nimbly down the front of your torso. Once it was fully open, he slid the blouse down your shoulders and discarded it to the side.

He brought his large palms up to your breasts and kneaded them gently. You groaned into his mouth and drew him closer to you with your legs, forcing the hem of your skirt up around your waist. You ground yourself into the front of his jeans desperately.

His fingers found the clasp at the front of your bra and unhooked it as he brought his mouth down to your breasts. He pressed the flat of his tongue against one nipple before swirling his tongue around it and sucking on it softly, making you gasp.

“Fuck, just like that baby.” You scrabbled your fingers over his back as he mouthed at your breast and drew his shirt over his head. He broke his contact with your skin for just a moment to throw the tee somewhere else, then moved his attention to your other breast, laving his tongue over the nipple slowly and making your pussy clench so hard it was aching.

“Shit, Thor, I need you.” You whined at him, clenching your thighs around his hips, trying to get some sort of friction to relieve the tension you were feeling in your core.

“I need to make sure you’re ready for me, beautiful. Don’t you trust me?”

“Mmmmm, yes!” you gasped as one of his hands moved your panties aside and he brushed his fingers against your folds, making you twitch.

“Oh, good girl. I just want to make you feel good, sweetheart.” He swirled one finger through the arousal at your entrance before inserting it at a deliciously slow pace.

You clenched around him immediately, letting out a whimper as he started moving it in and out of you slowly, stretching you from the inside a little further each time before adding another finger.

Your breath hitched and you tried to buck your hips into him but his other hand moved to press against your abdomen, pinning you to the counter.

His face came back up to yours as his fingers flexed inside of you. He brushed a soft kiss against your lips as you swallowed a moan.

“I know pretty girl, but you’re going to be happy I’m taking my time in a few minutes.” His third finger slipped into you as he gave you another kiss before he moved his face between your legs.

You did your best to keep from screaming when his tongue found your clit and started drawing soft circles over the tiny bundle of nerves. He curved his fingers inside you and pressed them against your sweet spot before he stretched you even further by adding a fourth finger.

You bit your lip so hard you drew blood. His tongue had increased in pressure and speed while his fingers stretched you so good. When he started sucking you lost it. You let out a thin wail as your body went rigid with pleasure, releasing to make every muscle tremble. He kept his fingers fucking into you at a steady rhythm as you rode it out. He removed them once you had finished and you let out a groan at the feeling of emptiness.

He smiled up at you before giving your pussy a kiss and standing up, releasing his hold on your abdomen. “I think you’re ready now gorgeous.” He murmured around a grin.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him as he drew your soaked panties down your legs and threw them to the side with the rest of your clothes. He then unzipped your skirt and added it to the pile before he moved his fingers to the fly of his jeans.

You felt your pussy clench as he drew the zipper down slowly and you stared at him through your lashes darkly. He bent over briefly to remove his pants and underwear and when he stood up, all the air rushed out of you as you understood his insistence on preparation.

He had the biggest cock you had ever seen. It was almost as thick as your wrist and quite a bit longer than the span of your hand. Your mouth filled with saliva as he gave it a few pumps and stepped closer to you, dragging it through your slick folds to coat it in your arousal.

“I’m going to go slow, love. You promise to let me know if it’s too much?”

You bit your lip as you nodded at him, not trusting the integrity of your vocal cords at the moment.

He bent forward over you and gave you a gentle kiss as he breached you with just his tip and you let out a sigh. He drew his hips back slowly before moving into you a little further. He continued this slow pace, pulling out just a bit and before breaching you further, waiting to feel you stretch and relax around him before he pushed into you more.

It seemed like forever before his hips were flush against yours and you were stretched around the whole length of him. You had never felt so deliciously full and you let out a low moan to let him know how good you felt.

“You’re doing so good baby.” He whispered to you and you couldn’t help giving him a wide grin that he returned. “I’m going to move, now, ok?”

“Fuck, yes please.” You whimpered as his hips started to move.

He kept his mouth on yours as he picked up the pace, exploring every inch of your mouth with his tongue. You tangled your hands into his hair and snapped your hips to meet his thrusts, the only sounds your soft moans, the slap of flesh on flesh, and the obscene wet sucking sounds your pussy was making as his cock thrust in and out of you.

You felt your pleasure starting to coil in your core and you cried softly into his mouth, urging him on as he moved one hand between the two of you to work your clit.

You came around him suddenly, every muscle in your body vibrating as the biggest orgasm you’d ever had ripped through you body. You had to bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming, and he growled into your ear as his paced picked up even more.

He drew your knees up to your shoulders as he kept thrusting into you. The change in position was too much for your overworked clit and you came again immediately, tears leaking down your cheeks as you tried your best to be quiet.

He saw the tears and started to slow down, a look of concern written all over his face, until you hissed at him.

“Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

He gave you a grunt that may have been a laugh and rotated your legs to your right side, the twist in your spine arching you so your chest pressed up into his, the coarse hair dusting him rubbing against your sensitive nipples and making you whine.

You felt yourself building again and you dropped your head back against the counter, preparing yourself. Thor’s hips started to stutter as your final orgasm wracked you, and he released right behind you as you twitched and fluttered around him. He bent back down to kiss you, his long hair brushing against your chest.

You opened up to him and let his tongue run against yours gently as he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you with a soft ache between your legs.

“How you feeling sweetheart?” He asked you, one hand cupped against your cheek as he watched your face, wanting to be sure he hadn’t hurt you.

“God, that was amazing.” You grinned at him, groaning as you stretched underneath him, knowing you were going to be stiff and sore tomorrow.

He gave you a swift kiss before scooping you off the counter and wrapping you around his torso. You nuzzled yourself into his neck as he started to carry you upstairs.

“Let’s get you a bath, beautiful. Make sure you’ll be able to walk in the morning.”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Mmmm, baby you know just what I need.”

“Of course I do, Y/N.” He looked into your eyes, a serious expression on his face. “I’m going to take care of you.”

You couldn’t express how happy that made you so you just hummed against his shoulder as he kicked open the door to the bathroom. You didn’t even care that you had left your discarded clothes downstairs for poor Steve to find when he woke up for his morning run.

Permanent Tags:

@drabblewithfrannybarnes

#thor x you #thor x reader #thor odinson #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #marvel fanfiction #reader insert #smut #chris hemsworth

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amelinksanatomy · 3 years

Note

scouts first birthday please

First Birthday

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! I'm sad we didn't see Scout turning one... I hope this is okay!

"Amelia, where did you put the smaller balloons?" Link asks, looking over his shoulder at Amelia who was sat on the floor wrapping the last of Scout's gifts.

"They should be in the bag with the other decorations."

Link continues rustling through the paper bag of various decorations Amelia had purchased for Scout's first birthday party, "They're not in here babe."

"What?" Amelia stands up and starts walking over to where he was stood, "No, no, no. Don't tell me I forgot them."

Amelia starts frantically pulling everything out of the bag before slumping down in the chair and putting her head in her hands. She stressfully rubs her forehead, "Great. Well. That's another thing I've screwed up as a Mom."

"Hey, hey. No, Ames, you haven't screwed anything up." Link says quietly, standing behind her and rubbing her shoulders comfortingly.

"Yes, I have. Scout loves balloons, it was the one thing I wanted to make sure we had." Amelia pouts as Link sits in the chair beside her and reaches out to take her hand, "We've got balloons, those big helium ones, he'll love those."

"I know but it's first birthday and I just wanted everything to be perfect."

"Babe, it will be perfect. You've gone above and beyond, he's gonna have so much fun. You are the best Mom, Amelia, I mean it. Scout is so lucky to have you. I will go out and grab some in a minute okay?" Link reassures, caressing her hand with his thumb.

Amelia glances around at the half decorated apartment and half wrapped pile of presents, "Can you believe our baby is gonna be one tomorrow?"

"I know. Seems like just yesterday I was nearly passing out in the stairwell after you told me you were pregnant." Link laughs, nudging her shoulder causing Amelia to smile "Well, in your defence, I did kind of drop that bomb out of nowhere and then run off so..."

"But, it turned out to be the best thing we ever did huh. We made a pretty amazing kid." Link smiles, squeezing her hand, "We did, he's perfect and I wouldn't change any of it."

The two pause in silence for a second, taking a moment to bask in the memories of the past year before Link looks over at her and smirks, "You wanna go make another one?"

Amelia rolls her eyes dramatically and smacks his chest, "Shut up."

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

"Good morning, my sweet boy." Amelia says in her quiet baby voice as she walks into her sons nursery and sees him standing up in his crib, "Mama! Mama! Mama!"

Amelia holds her arms out as she walks towards him. Scout begins bouncing excitedly, holding onto the side of the crib and giggling. He'd been doing this every morning when Amelia comes to get him up for the last month but it makes her heart melt every time. Amelia smiles as she reaches into the crib and lifts Scout into her arms, holding him against her hip. She rocks him gently and places a kiss on his head, "Happy first birthday little man, I love you more than you're ever going to know."

Amelia sits down in the rocking chair placed in the corner of the nursery, adjusting Scout in her arms before opening her shirt to allow him to eat. She'd decided to start weaning him off of breastfeeding when he turned one since he was now only feeding once in the morning and one before he went to sleep. But, now it had come to that day, she was starting to get upset about it coming to an end. She'd loved having the time with him to be close and bond.

"You know," Amelia whispered, looking down at Scout as he ate, "This time a year ago, you were still in Mommy's belly. But, I had no idea that I was going to get to meet you that same day."

Scout stared up at her with his big blue eyes as she spoke and he fed, "I started having contractions when I got to work but I didn't think they were real since you'd scared us the same way the week before. Daddy wanted to take me on one last date before we had you. I said no because I wanted to keep doing surgery, of course. But then, a few hours later, my water broke and you were coming. Daddy was fixing our friend Richard so he couldn't be there when you were born but he met you very soon after. He was so in love with you from the second he saw you. So was I. When Carina put you on my chest for the first time, I could not stop crying at how perfect you were. When I heard you cry for the first time and I knew you were healthy... It was the best moment of my life. I just held you against me and stared at you for what felt like forever. You were such a surprise to me and your Daddy but, you are the best thing that could have ever happened to us buddy, we love you so much. Happy birthday baby."

Scout started to wriggle in her arms, "Oh, you finished angel?" she asks, pulling her shirt back over herself as she sat the baby up, listening to his sweet voice as he mumbled to himself.

"Let's go find Daddy and you can open your gifts, how's that sound?"

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

"Dada! Toy!" Scout holds up the firetruck he'd just unwrapped towards Link, "Wow buddy! Now you have a firetruck to go with your ambulance!"

The living room was now covered in shredded wrapping paper, piles of toys and clothes and the balloons Scout had been fascinated by. Link had made them pancakes, Scout's new favorite, before all the gift unwrapping. Amelia had been sat on the couch, making sure to snap pictures of her baby's first birthday morning. It was only 10 A.M. and Amelia had already cried on three separate occasions.

Link had just taken Scout to his room to get him dressed. Of course, Amelia had laid out a pre-prepared outfit since Link has proved on multiple occasions in the past year that he is incapable of dressing Scout well, or at least, up to Amelia's standard.

"Here he is!" Link exclaims, walking back into the room holding Scout's hand as he waddles along beside him.

"Oh, look at you!" Amelia smiles widely, "Mommy's big boy, huh!"

Amelia lunges forward and lifts Scout into the air, spinning him around causing him to fall into a fit of giggles.

"You ready for your party sweetheart?" Amelia ruffles his hair, "You're gonna love it huh. Well, of course you are, you're gonna be the centre of attention!"

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

"...Happy birthday to Scout, happy birthday to you!" the party sung in unison as Amelia holds Scout on her hip, standing across from Link as he held the cake.

Everyone cheered and clapped as Amelia helped Scout to blow out the candle. Scout, loving the attention he was getting, started clapping and bouncing on Amelia's hip. Every body in the room started cooing at how cute he was causing Scout to giggle ever harder. Amelia kissed her son's head gently as she looked over at Maggie, who she'd put in charge of filming this moment, to make sure she was still getting it.

In the split second Amelia had looked away, Scout lunged forward in her arms and plowed his hands into the cake. He was laughing as he pulled his tiny fists away, waving the handfuls of cake he had taken in the air.

Amelia gasps, her jaw falling open, "Oh my god! Baby, what did you do?" she asks, her baby voice making an appearance.

"Link! Why didn't you stop him?" Amelia pouts, "I wasn't looking! No one was looking and that's probably why he did it, huh bud, you wanted the attention!"

Scout giggles loudly and holds his cake filled hands in the air again as all their friends and family began laughing at him.

"Ames, don't worry he didn't do too much damage, we can still eat it." Link says, placing the cake down on the table and turning back to face Amelia just in time to see Scout reach a hand up and smoosh cake onto her face while he laughs, "Mama!"

Cake falls to the floor as Amelia's jaw drops open once more. She shoots Link a sharp look as he laughs.

"'Have a baby, it'll be great, best experience of your life' they said." Amelia says sarcastically, holding Scout tighter against her body and starts tickling his side as he falls into another fit of giggles, "They don't tell you about being caked by your own child!"

Maggie walks over, still holding her phone up to catch this all on video before turning it off and putting it down on the table. She laughs and holds her hands out to Scout, "Here, ill get him cleaned up while you... get yourself..." Amelia rolls her eyes and nods, handing Scout over to his aunt.

As she walks away, Link smirks at Amelia as she takes a napkin and begins wiping her face. Link leans in to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her back. Amelia pouts as he pulls away, "Well, this really didn't go to plan."

"Oh babe, look, he's having a great time." the parents look over to where Scout was sat playing with his new toys happily, sharing them with Leo and Mer's kids. He was laughing and smiling and clapping his hands in the air, "You did a great job with the party and he's loved the attention. He's just starting to become his own little person."

"He is. Our perfect little one year old."

#amelink #amelink fanfics #amelinkfanfics #amelink fics #amelinkfics #amelink fic #amelia and link #link and amelia #amelink baby #amelink fanfic #amelia x link #amelia shepherd and atticus lincoln #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #atticus link #greys fics #grey's anatomy #greys

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hana-bean · 3 years

Text

Close to you (3/7)

I will always be by your side Though I can do nothing else

---

His eyes fluttered open, hearing the faint sounds of chatter from outside his closed bedroom door—all female. Seiya stayed still for a few moments to process his incapacitating physical pain and his surroundings, the decor reminding him of the meeting room from the previous night. After a few more seconds of waiting for the rest of his body to wake up, he also recognized more than one of the voices; Serenity stayed true to her promise by releasing Yaten and Taiki from the detention center.

Seiya staggeringly readied himself for company, taking advantage of the unused toothbrush before dressing in the previous night’s clothes. He grabbed his cane and hobbled out and down the hallway until he happened upon a bright dining room, the chattering voices no longer muffled.

He was met with the scene of a transformed Yaten and Taiki, as Sailor Star Healer and Sailor Star Maker respectively, standing while surrounded by five women including Serenity. She was clothed in a flowy white robe while holding an ornate teacup in one hand as she poked at the purple band on Maker’s arm with the other. The four other women asked questions as they more or less kept their hands to themselves.

“So what happens when you get all sweaty? Does the leather not stick to you?” One woman with long dark hair inquired, rubbing her hips while imagining the discomfort of leather adhering to skin.

“No, actually it kind of expands when we get hot.” Healer answered, mimicking her movements. “The gold part in the middle is actually a separate pair of shorts.”

The gaggle of gals looked at each other with a synced resounding of, “oh” and steady nodding. However, the sight of Seiya was caught by one of them, and a woman with half of her long golden hair tied up in a red bow pointed at him as he leaned on the doorframe.

“Hey, there’s the other one!”

As all eyes were directed his way, Serenity’s gaze was warm and welcoming, paired with a smile emitting breathy laughter. The sweet sound serenaded Seiya’s heart into continuous drumming.

Healer and Maker then immediately charged him, taking him in tight embraces from both sides around his neck and waist, ignoring his grimace.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Maker whispered with a sigh of relief.

“What?” Seiya wrapped his free arm around her waist. “Of course I am.”

“These chicks are weird.” Healer’s voice cracked in his other ear, also at a whisper. “I can’t tell if they’re gonna eat us or become our best friends.”

Seiya snorted. “Probably neither. You barely suffice as an appetizer, and you’re mean.”

Healer growled before she pulled away to dead-leg Seiya. While Maker and his cane saved him from completely wiping out on the floor, his wobble was hard to miss.

“Seiya, are you okay?” Serenity approached the trio, a worried expression hovering over her teacup.

“Yes, your highness.” Seiya straightened up as he shot a glare toward Healer, who stuck her tongue out back at him. He softened his face with a smile as he looked at Serenity. “Trying to get used to bowing with one leg.”

“No need to do that! Please sit down!” She shuffled toward a chair at the table and pulled it out.

“You’re too kind, your highness.” Seiya began to make his way over to the offered seat, taking the opportunity to press his cane on top of Healer’s foot using all of his weight. The Starlight’s breath caught in her throat as she let out a quiet squawk, hiding her tears and yelp in Maker’s shoulder.

Once Seiya was seated, the rest of the women huddled behind Serenity to get a better look at the third alien guardian in his male civilian form, all the while blushing at his telepathically agreed-upon handsomeness. However, the queen found herself staring and smiling a bit too long herself and had to be elbowed by a green-eyed brunette to come out of her daze.

“So uh, um... these are my friends and our fellow guardians—Ami Mizuno, Rei Hino, Makoto Kino, and Minako Aino!”

Each woman perked and waved at him when their respective names were said as Seiya smiled and tilted his head forward as a greeting.

“Ooh, Ami, tell them about what you're doing!” Serenity got excited and patted Ami’s arm repeatedly and eagerly, then turned around to wave Healer and Maker back over. While both obliged, Healer seemed to have picked up Seiya’s limp suddenly.

Ami nodded and took out her crystal cell phone from her back pocket, swiping and tapping around a few times before addressing the three foreigners.

“As of five AM this morning, we’ve been scanning a database of alien artifacts and antiques registered with the CTDAAA. Anything considered to have royal, historic, or scientific significance from another planet that is brought to Earth must be registered in this database by law. So if the incense burner you’re looking for is in fact here, theoretically we should find it from this scan.”

Maker cocked her head. “Theoretically?”

“Yes, well, the merchant would have had to register it themselves. Of course, many things are smuggled, especially if it’s illegal or has been reported stolen. Or perhaps they simply don’t want to deal with the paperwork and waiting periods.”

Healer crossed her arms. “So how far along is the scan?”

“A whole point-three percent!” Ami’s voice and expression held sarcastic enthusiasm. “This database does span the whole planet.”

Serenity sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Well then, I guess the only thing we can do now is eat!”

The rest of the women erupted in agreement and dispersed to find their seats at the table. As Seiya watched Serenity head for the chair next to his, something within him said it was okay to grab for the royal hand. And to his surprise, he was faced with her kind and curious cerulean eyes.

He tried to gulp down his blush and excitement, but the feeling of warmth on his ears told him that did nothing.

“Thank you… your highness… for all your help. And happy birthday.”

She wrinkled her nose as she grinned, squeezing his hand in appreciation.

---

Waiting in the queen’s chambers, Ami, Rei, Makoto, and Minako each gasped and held their breath as Serenity emerged from the bathroom.

“So?” Minako widened her eyes, expecting good news.

Serenity couldn’t bring herself to share in the shared anticipation and shook her head to relieve them of their happy mood. The four women groaned.

“I’m so sorry.” Makoto took the queen in an embrace.

Serenity released a sound between a sigh and a sob, sinking into Makoto’s chest. “What is wrong with me?”

The rest of the group took that as their cue to join in on the hug.

“Nothing is wrong with you.” Rei stroked her back. “You still have plenty of time.”

“But how long will that take? Another four years… four-hundred years?”

“When it’s meant to happen.” Ami rested her forehead on one of Serenity’s buns. “You know Chibi-Usa will be here. You need to trust destiny.”

Serenity sniffled. “Yes, that’s true. But it’s just… I don’t understand why it’s taking so long.”

“It'll happen, Serenity. But on the bright side: at least you can drink today.” Makoto’s mouth twisted in a smile as she pulled back from the group hug.

The others let up as well, allowing Serenity to dab her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and nod in agreement. “Sure. I just wish Mamo was here.”

“Is he still in LA?” Ami furrowed her brow.

“Yes. He was supposed to come back yesterday but there’s been a series of bad storms over there and he’s been stuck. They’re saying flights won’t open up until the end of the week. Then he has to go straight to Canberra.”

Rei scoffed. “That sucks. I’m sorry that happened.”

“Don’t be.” Serenity hugged herself and shook her head. “I’ll have an eternity of birthdays for him to attend.”

“At least we got cute men to hang out with this year.” Minako raised her eyebrows to indicate her impish thoughts. “I call dibs on the short one.”

“Dibs on Seiya!” Rei clapped and raised her hands.

Serenity dropped her jaw in disapproval. “Rei, you can’t call dibs on him.”

“What?” Rei’s jaw also dropped. “Mina just called dibs on Yaten!”

“Yes… but… Seiya’s injured. That’s a little messed up, don’t you think?”

“The man has a limp, he’s not braindead.”

“Okay, but his whole body is still healing! You saw how he almost collapsed this morning—”

“If he’s horizontal, it won’t matter—!”

“Okay-okay-okay!” Makoto, unable to contain her smile, walked in between the bickering duo as she held her palms out on each side of her. She then turned her attention to the fiery guardian, speaking through laughter.

“Rei, it would seem that our queen has already called dibs on Sailor Bar Fighter—”

“What? No!” Serenity tried to sound as offended as possible, but her blush betrayed her.

Ami gasped. “Serenity! How could you?”

“Ami, it’s not like that!”

“You know he does look a lot like Endymion…” Minako tapped her pointer finger to her chin.

“Mina! Don’t!”

Rei rolled her eyes with a smirk, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I guess since it’s your birthday, you can have him—”

“Rei, stop it!” Serenity threw her hands up before rubbing them down her face in distress and then defeat. “Fine, have at him, and have fun doing all the work!”

“I need some exercise anyway.” She blew a kiss.

Minako looked over at the only two women who had yet to call dibs. “So who wants lanky legs?”

Makoto and Ami met each other’s gazes, their eyes squinted in opposition.

“How should we do this?”

“The old-fashioned way, of course.”

If an arm was covered with a sleeve, it was rolled up. Or if it was bare, it was being massaged in preparation. Both then slapped their right hands together and curled their fingers into each others’.

“One, two, three, four, I declare a thumb war!”

While the rest of the group was distracted with the competition, Serenity walked over to her birthday bar cart stocked with cakes, pastries, and premade mimosas and poured herself a full flute of the orange drink. As she emptied the glass down her throat in only a few gulps, she secretly hoped Seiya wasn’t attracted to Rei.

---

Please note if you would like to follow this story, I will be updating the rest of the chapters under the tag: hana bean close to you and other iterations of the spacing. I love you all!

#hana bean close to you #hana-bean close to you #hanabeanclosetoyou #hanabean close to you #seiya x usagi 4eva #seiya x usagi fanfiction #seiya kou fanfiction #seiya usagi fanfiction #seiya x usagi

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shiberpostshere · 4 years

Text

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

20. Chapter Sixteen: Happy Realisation✨ (Meant as a sarcastic remark to the Reader, wishing her Happy Realisation like Happy Birthday)

Previous Part✨ Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

Word Count: 2.2K (😳)

🌸

The Special Weekly Segment, Weekly Flower Delivery had thoroughly infiltrated your mind with admiration of love and swooning until you remembered that you decided to justify your feelings about Seonghwa, with Seonghwa by talking to Seonghwa.

Oh, Park Seonghwa.

What are you going to say? For starters, you had few options you considered:

1) 'Hey! Crazy story. Remember when I liked you in high school but I think it was childish, so I'd like to know what are your present thoughts about it?'

Fairly normal but quite formal.

2) 'Hello there kind sir. Would you like discussing our past embarassing affairs, mostly the mortifying felony committed by me over a glass of liquor?'

It feels like you're asking for great lord's hand in marriage, one who owns expansive estates in the 1740s.

3) 'Hey, Seonghwa, so you know how we've been spending some time together and I have been thinking about us, together, as in a dating, you know what I mean?'

'You know what I mean?' What are you about to do? Transcend into a rap battle?

At the end, you considered it's best to say what feels appropriate at the given situation.

Hopefully, it's appropriate.

The Dazzling Night group is buzzing excitement of accomplishment after the special segment.

The atmosphere shifting from a rather intimate confession to a declaration of never fading love has successfully set a mood for the team to celebrate the well executed show with chicken and beer by the riverside at midnight.

Yeosang and Mingi leave before the rest and decide to get the food on the way to arrange a seating area for comfortable dinner.

The remaining ride in Seonghwa's car after he frantically arrived at the studio looking fresh and clean.

After a short ten minute ride, you breathe in the gusts of winds, carrying a gentle scent of the river.

The location is a little crowded for the night but might disperse as the clock ticks by.

It isn't difficult to spot the waving figures of Yeosang and Mingi in a quiet corner, keeping a safe distance from other groups for private, mostly chaotic conversations of the group.

Jongho collapses on the mattress within a second of spotting it.

"This is the life of a successful segment planner." He states with a deep inhale.

"Okay bragger, save this for later. I'm hungry." Mingi pushes the boy out of the mattress, rolling him onto the grass but Jongho has no plans of sitting straight.

Yeosang twists open a bottle with fizzle. "We need to make a toast."

The rest of you begin arranging your dinner in front of the widespread, breathtaking view of the river and the brightly lit bridge.

Seonghwa and you begin unpacking the boxes of variety of chicken while Hongjoong pours out drinks for everyone.

"A toast? Why? Are we already done with Dazzling Night for this semester?" Hongjoong comments without looking up.

Yeosang gives him a look. "C'mon, read the mood." He falls back beside Mingi. "Seonghwa loves giving speeches anyway. We love a sentimental mood setter."

You nudge the mentioned boy. "Oh? Then I'm looking forward to it too!"

He plops down and rolls his eyes. "For once can you guys stop ganging up on me?"

Your best friend props up his body lazily, supporting his weight on his arms. "Make a toast, make a toast, make a toast."

You snicker and shake your head at the lack of enthusiasm. "Wow, you surely want him to make a toast."

Hongjoong offers you a small cup of beer. "Okay then, would you like to make a toast instead?"

Taken aback, you study the amount of twinkling eyes settled on you. "Oh, hell no." You thrust the cup at the suggested person.

Seonghwa looks at you with dramatic betrayal written all over his features. "My knight in--" His eyes study your frame, "My knight in jeans and flannel, I thought you'd surely save me."

The entire group bursts out in laughter.

Placing a hand on your hip, you gulp down the contents of the small cup. "Why did the ganging up shift from him" You jab a thumb at innocent looking Seonghwa, "To me?"

Jongho simply shrugs. There's an evident satisfaction displayed in his slackened movements.

You feel comfortable as well.

You're used to, no, you are loving the playful bantering but god forbid, you'll never admit this out loud, especially in front of the teasing devil himself.

"Alright, alright" Seonghwa refills your empty cup and lifts up his big one. "Here's a toast to not even a week into Dazzling Night yet to the most talented group of people making everyone's night, especially each other's by working together and supporting each other. How's that for a sentimental toast?"

All of you raise your plastic cups in unison with a gentle 'cheers' and down the booze in one shot.

Mingi wipes his non existent tears. "Fantastic. I'd like to thank my mother, my father and mostly importantly the baby account I followed on instagram two weeks ago which gives me joy---"

He is unable to finish his speech of 'gratitude' as Yeosang shoves him away with a quick push, making the tall boy almost land sideways on top of sauce pouches.

🌸

Throughout dinner, you simply cannot stop smiling or almost rolling over the grass.

It is truly a wild dinner.

One moment Hongjoong slaps away Yeosang's hand from stealing his well deserved chicken wing and another Jongho suddenly belts out a song to honour the evening, earning loud claps from the people seated nearby.

The conversations begin with Seonghwa and Hongjoong reminiscing their first meeting together, makes it's way through the emotional valley but eventually returns to the clowning station.

Time passes by quickly as you munch over different kinds of delicious chickens melting on your tongue with new flavours everytime you grab one from a different box.

Yeosang takes all the credit for the ten out of ten dinner and all the guys agree with the chicken maniac, as addressed by his friends.

As the night gets darker, people start disappearing slowly and you begin to notice the questionable amount of empty beer bottles lying around.

"I think I'm drunk." Hongjoong presses his temple with a wince.

Yeosang grabs the elder's arm and leans into his shoulder with a pout. "Yeosang wants to eat more chicken."

Jongho breaks into a fit of coughs while Mingi throws back his head, booming with laughter.

"Did he just refer to himself in third person?" Eyes wide, you turn to Seonghwa for an answer.

"Yeosang transforms into a cute little kid when he's drunk, he has a low alcohol tolerance." His cheeks are slightly tinted with the pink colour. You don't know if you should be trusting his tolerance either.

"Oh my god, I should totally make a video." Mingi pulls out his phone but Jongho is quick enough to snatch it.

"You don't want to see tomorrow's sunrise?"

Out of everyone, maybe even you, Jongho appears the most sober, as if he hasn't drank at all.

Hongjoong's hand gently pats the drunk one's back. "C'mon, it's getting late, let's go to the restroom and sober up so we can leave."

Jongho leaves his place with a sigh. "I'm going with those three, I think they need some supervision."

Seonghwa places down his refilled cup. "Good idea. I'll stay back with (y/n) and clean up."

You nod. It is indeed getting late.

The three drunk ones trudge towards the washrooms with a normal walking Jongho following behind.

"Let's clean this up, shall we?" You eye the mess scattered around.

As you try to lift your body with much difficulty, a hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you down causing you to yelp.

"But you wanted to talk." You breath hitches for a moment as he turns sideways to place his forehead on your shoulder.

Oh, how you had hoped for him to magically forget about it.

You lift up his head with the support of one finger. "Are you sure you aren't drunk?"

His hands pat his cheeks a few times. "Definitely not drunk." He inches a little closer. "So, tell me."

A chuckle leaves your lips at his attempts to appear sober. "Oh, well, I don't know how to bring this up and I'd rather talk if you will remember this tomorrow as much as I want you to forget."

His shoulders slump. "Oh, (Y/N), is this about our cute little history that you find embarassing."

"What? How did you know that? Wait, who told you---" You blabber out surprised and to deepen the surprise he places a finger on your lips.

"Hey, hey, calm down." His eyes land on the finger and he quickly retrieves it. He clears his throat. "I mean, it is a little obvious. I think it is obvious to everyone but you."

Your cheeks heat up a little at his statement. "Obvious? Okay, since it is that obvious. Yes, yes I am a little embarassed, maybe more than a little embarassed."

Seonghwa tilts his head to the side, an intense look in his eyes. "That's not what I meant (Y/N) but tell me what are you embarassed about?"

Gathering your legs closer to your chest, you place your chin in between the knees. "Well, you know" You let your words trail but draw in a deep breath. "I was fifteen and what happened was silly and ever since we started hanging out together, I feel really comfortable with you and you're really nice. Oh my god, I'm getting nowhere with this." Your feet begin moving in a continous motion.

Seonghwa fixes his posture and sits up straight. "(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You look up.

"I liked fifteen year old you. A girl who liked me, often encouraged me even though she didn't understand 11th grade struggles but it's not something that I look back at and make fun of but it's a fond memory that there was a cute girl who liked me back when I was young and too tense for a 17 year old boy." His precise answer tugs a string of your heart.

"Yeah, you were too tense for a 17 year old boy. Remember how you often lectured me like you understand all concepts of the world at such an young age." You comment with an playful smile.

A picture of a young Seonghwa passionately explaining time management like a professor pops up in your mind with a young you listening as if he's reciting a romantic poem. Oh, how smitten you were.

Funnily enough, you still are.

Seonghwa pushes his fingers through his hair with a shy smile, eyes focused on the night sky. "Oh my god. I can't believe you remember that."

You bump your shoulder with his. "How can I forget, you were adorable."

A stange energy is brewing within you. This comfort is unmatched.

He turns to you, fingers suddenly grab your cheeks. "Don't get cheeky with me now." He says in an extremely soft voice.

"Hey, this is not fair. What are you doing?" You get a hold on both of his hand to remove them but fail.

He pulls them a little before letting them go, you rub the sore spots. "You're as much as a troublemaker as you were back then, you just hide it now. Don't you?"

Maybe it's the courage supplied by the little alcohol in your system or maybe it's just him, you grab his face with your hands.

His eyes widen at your actions. "What are you doing?"

You gently bump your forehead onto his. "I'm trying to be bold and knocking some sense into you."

The shocked expression subdues into a serious one. One you hadn't expected to see. "I wouldn't suggest that. What if I really end up forgetting what you're about to do next?"

As soon as he speaks those words, you let go of his face and create a safe distance between you two. "What do you mean? I wasn't going to do anything but bump my forehead with yours! What are you thinking!"

He begins stuffing the empty chicken boxes into each other pretending as if you weren't just inches apart a second ago.

"What if I end up bumping my forehead even harder than you did?" He asks with the most false concern present on his face.

You grab the nearest bottle cap and aim it right at his forehead but he's too quick to catch it. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

"YOU stop being cheeky, can't you tell I was trying to flirt with you!" You let both of your hands rest on your hips.

His mouth forms an "O". "I mean, I should definitely do that, I have the right to. It's not like you know that I've been flirting with you all this time."

You freeze for a moment, eyes blinking twice. "You've been flirting with me?"

He throws up his hands in an exasperated gesture.

"Wait, you've been flirting with me? You weren't just having fun making me suffer by being extremely kind and nice yet teasing and--" The long list of conversations run in your mind and then it pings. "Oh."

Seonghwa begins clapping. "Thank you so much for finally noticing."

Your fall down on the support of your knees.

"Oh my god, Park Seonghwa has been flirting with me all this time"

You realise you've said it out loud and wish to sink further into your hands.

"Yes, I have been." His fingers gently ruffle your hair. "Now, clean this up before Jongho comes back and grumbles about it."

You slowly lift up your head and look at him casually collecting the mess, unphased.

"You're not going to let this one die. Are you?" Hesitant, you await an answer.

He chuckles. "Of course not."

"Fantastic." You stand up, unable to shake off the realisation.

🌸

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

🌸

A/N: This user is about to lose her sanity because Tumblr does not save her drafts and likes messing with her already remaining braincells. (I edited this once, I'll edit it again tomorrow)

BUT! THOUGHTS? what do we think after reading this chapter?

After writing this I low-key wanna start a written fic he-he.

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! 💫

🌸Tags:

@enigmaticsal @stardusthyuck @preets-kpop-world @missiopk @rae-woo @sanisms @retrofuture-ism @jiyeons-closet @hongjoongsnoona @seong-hwa1998 @veeeenus4 @mochibabycakes @vhschs @kokoboxp @choisaniskillingme @vantclavs @f-iyan @staywritten @cobbiebaexqueen @uppiespuppy @mingiflower

🌸Unable to tag: @mingiibabieee @dreamie-deonghwa

🌸

Do not repost, modify or claim the writing or images.

#ateez #ateez social media au #ateezsmau #ateez sm au #ateez text au #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez fake texts #ateez au #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jung yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #jung wooyoung #song mingi #choi jongho

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thorin-is-a-cuddler · 4 years

Text

Backrow shenanigans and front seat bonding

A/N: What even is this? It is a mix of emotions I’m having for the Umbrella Academy siblings. Bear with me... just a little.

The Umbrella Academy is driving in a car and shenanigans ensue. Set in Season 2, but in absolutely no particular scene. I’m getting Avengers 2012 vibes from these Umbrella Academy fanfics you too??

Vanya and Diego were in the front seats as the gang made their way to Elliot’s house. They hadn’t been together like this in so long it nearly felt unnatural.

Diego couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he felt like something was different about Vanya now. And probably also about himself. Gathered like this, with all of his siblings, the changes got more evident. None of them were still the same as they had been during their first doomsday.

He was surprised when he felt a rush of warmth inside of his belly as he looked over his shoulder. There was Luther who had over the past weeks become much more of a brother to Diego than he had been in a long while. There was Allison who was even more annoying than she’d already been. There was Five who seemed to always be on a mission to safe his family. There was Klaus who was... Klaus. A very reliable character. And then there was Vanya.

And Vanya was surprising Diego more than any of them.

When she looked at him from the driver’s seat with a big smile, he realized that all he really wanted was to protect her, keep her safe. His chest was very eager to get puffed out while something like a big brother instinct took over. He slightly shook his head at himself, but was able to huff gently at Vanya’s smile and give her a small one of his own.

Vanya furrowed her brows with a laugh and looked from the street to Diego and back. “You okay, Diego?”

A little embarrassed due to the curious heads that immediately leaned closer to the front from the backseats, Diego slid down in his seat a little and put a hand on his forehead. “Yeah, sure. All good.”

Vanya scoffed with amusement and started fumbling around with the radio station. “Maybe a little music?”

“Oh, yes, music!” Klaus exclaimed, clapping his hands and making Allison laugh as he started bumping his hip against hers.

Luther groaned and looked out of the window. “But nothing that Klaus can sing along to.”

“Ex-a-cuse me!” Klaus turned around and meaningfully looked at his brother who was hunched in the storage room of the car. “I can sing along to aaanything.”

“Then no music, please!” Luther called to Vanya who was just about to find a good frequency. Klaus was waving his hands around in front of Luther‘s face, acting like he was going to slap him. His brother didn‘t seem very impressed by that.

„Oh, really?“ Vanya exclaimed disappointedly. „But this is a classic, Luther!!“ She eagerly turned the music up and started shaking her shoulders around and lip-synchronizing the cheerful words of the Beatles.

Oh, please, say to me, you‘ll let me be your man!

Oh, please, say to me, you‘ll let me hold your hand!

„I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAAAAAND!! I WANNA HOLD YOUR HAAND!!!“ Klaus shrieked extra annoyingly, making Five cover his ears in distress.

Vanya almost doubled over from her sudden urge to laugh and Allison joined in the horrible singing with Klaus, despite actually having a beautiful singing voice.

Luther‘s face in the rearview mirror made even Diego crack a smile.

„Vanya... please...“ The strongest of the seven (Ben was chilling right next to him, hi Ben) members of the Umbrella Academy said in a desperate tone.

„Sorry, what? I can‘t hear you!“ Vanya grinned into the rearview mirror as she turned up the volume of the music even more.

Diego chuckled into his palm, pushing his temple against the window and glancing at Vanya with yet again surprised amusement.

Klaus took this as his cue to turn around and screech extra wildly into Luther‘s face.

„YOU SOUND LIKE A STRANGLED COCK!“ Luther yelled and actually made to grab for Klaus‘ throat, but his fingers barely stroked the skin around his neck, leading to Klaus pulling up his shoulders to his ears and giggling squeakily.

„Oh no, no! That tickles!“

„Well maybe this will shut you up!“ Luther threatened with a sudden sinister grin as he leaned over Klaus‘ seat and wiggled his fingers into the unprotected ribs of his skinny brother.

Klaus lost all artificial idiocy immediately, pulled his elbows to his sides to cover his ticklish spots and sank into his seat as giddy laughter took over him.

„NonononOHAHAA!! QUIHIIHIT IHIHIT!! GAHAHAHA NOHOT THAHAAT!!!“ He started kicking out his legs uncontrollably making Five hiss as his knee got hit quite harshly, before Allison managed to grab the legs and pinned them to her lap to keep his flailing from causing any further harm.

„Is this screeching better than before?“ Five yelled, putting his head up on his hand to look out of the window and acted like all that nonsense didn‘t concern him. There was a smirk on his features though.

“Is anyone going to mention that Luther just said ‘strangled cock’?” Vanya asked in Diego’s direction, making him snort with laughter instantly. The two of them were only capable to seize their laughing fit when Vanya almost drove them off the road.

„NOHOHOHO ALLISON!! NOHOHO NEEEHEHED FOR THAT!!!“ Klaus exclaimed, sniffing traitor potential in the air as Allison‘s nails slightly started skittering over his kneecaps.

„I’m just protecting you from hurting yourself, sweetie!“ Allison cooed while circling his knees with her index fingers. „No need to be so modest!“

Vanya laughed out loud at that again, because if there was one thing in the world that didn‘t define Klaus, it was the word „modesty“. Diego grinned at her softly and shook his head at his siblings.

Luther was by now half in the back row as he leaned down to dig his fingertips mercilessly into Klaus‘ sides and ribs. He was wearing an unusually bright smile.

„DIEHEHEGOO HEHELP ME!!!“ Klaus squeaked at the top of his lungs when Luther managed to dig his thumbs into his hip bones despite his very desperate struggles to keep his hands away from there.

„You had it comin‘, Klaus.“ He simply stated and kept his gaze up front, the incessant laughter a much better frequency in his opinion than any radio channel.

Vanya looked at him now with a slightly unnerving playful smirk. He pulled his shoulders back and glared at her suspiciously. He was really trying not to smile too much, but that was hard with the backseat basically bursting from fun. (Except for Five, of course, who didn‘t interact, but also didn‘t intervene. He was just a happy bystander, whereas Ben was ravelling in Klaus‘ giggles even more than Diego was.)

„What are you lookin‘ at?“ He growled at her and was shocked at how lightly he had said that. Almost playfully. The hell. He wasn‘t that much of a playful fellow...

Vanya snickered at his reaction, her eyes so bright that Diego once again felt a a pang of affection for her in his chest. There were a lot of pangs in there right now. Pangs for Klaus and Allison, for Luther and Five and for Ben, too, because he could just imagine how happy this car ride must have been making him. So much affection wanted to bubble out of Diego and destroy his reputation - a reputation Diego believed he had - but he couldn’t quite let go of his defensive nature. Maybe he just needed a little push, a little nudge. And maybe Vanya was on the best way to deliver just that.

“PLEASE PLEASE I CAN’T HANDLE NO MORE PLEEHEHHEEASE!!” Klaus’ struggles were getting lesser and his wheezing laughter started to sound weaker. Even Luther was able to register when someone had had enough and therefore stopped his tickling hands, crossed his arms on top of Klaus’ backseat and took to looking down at him with a smug expression on his face.

“None of that, you big mean-o!” Klaus held a finger in Luther’s face and slowly started sitting up, groaning like he had aged years during that tickle attack. “I have seen rock bottom, but I keep getting up...”

“Even now, you can’t shut up for one second, can you?” Five groaned and buried his face in his hands, making Klaus chuckle good naturedly. He did look utterly stunning now. As if the tickling had worked like a magical refreshing means on him.

“Well, no, little Grandpops, I will not remain silent. Not after what I have just discovered.” He dramatically put his hands on his hips, taking in a deep breath.

“And what would that be?” Five asked rather sarcastically.

“Never trust nobody!” Klaus answered, his voice becoming a snarl as he turned towards Allison and quickly grabbed her sides with a need for ticklish revenge. His sister was lost to cheerful laughter in no time, trying to get rid of his hands by bending over and wrapping her arms around herself, but Klaus wasn’t easily shaken off.

“KLAUS NOOHOHO!! I BARELY TOUCHED YOU!!”

“Youuuuu siiideeed wiiiiith the enemyyyyYYY!!” Klaus spoke like an old wizard on a bridge, sneakily worming his hands under Allison’s elbows to get at her ticklish sides, keeping her in stitches. Luther made moon-eyes at them from the backseat while Five shook his head like he had given up on humanity - which he probably really had.

At the same time in the front seat: Diego was by now watching the backrow shenanigans in the rearview mirror with a fond smile on his face. That was until he met Vanya’s smug look in it which immediately seemed to make him lose all interest in the fun. He cleared his throat, looked away and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Just when he was certain that she would not say anything about his strange behavior, he felt a ticklish jolt run through his body from a spot just above his hip. He made a strangled noise and quickly pushed his elbow over the sensitive area where Vanya had poked him, a look of utter shock on his face. He saw Vanya’s mischievous smile and felt a giddy feeling rise in his stomach.

“Ey,” he whined with an audible grin on his face, “what did you do that for?”

“Lighten up, you big moron!” Vanya chuckled and punched him in the arm.

“Ow!!” Diego complained, his smile spreading on his face, a short snicker escaping him at the impact of Vanya’s fist.

“Just give me one of your prettiest smiles!” Vanya demanded with another nudge to his shoulder. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, all the while smiling and trying his best not to. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to at least give Vanya a hard time about it.

“Come oooon. Is that all you’ve got? I’m devastated!”

Diego huffed when Vanya’s fingers collided with his side again, trying to find a way through his defensive arms to get at some ticklish spot that would make him laugh like Klaus had. But Diego didn’t give her enough space for that and she was no match for his strength. Therefore she quickly had to change tactics.

In one swift motion, she wrapped her hand around Diego’s knee and started squeezing. And Diego had so not seen that coming. With a loud howl, he quickly bent over and tried his best to tear her hand away from his ticklish knee again, but she was very determined not to let go now.

“OH NO NO VANYA NO!! PL-PLEHEHHEASE!! JUST NOT THAT!!” Diego threw his head back against his seat and tried to keep Vanya’s hand away from him, but she was on him now, her hand finding the way to his stomach and tickling there and her hand finding a way to his ribs and tickling there too and Diego was lost to laughter now. Unstoppable laughter that kept coming, despite the pain that was rising in his stomach.

“Oh, you two as well now??” Five yelled as he looked over Diego’s seat to get a closer look at them, rolling his eyes and dropping his face in his palm.

“FIVE!! T-TELL HER TO LOOK UP FROHOOHONT!!” Diego cackled, tears of laughter coming to his eyes. “PLEHEHEASE!!”

“I’m looking up front just fine!” Vanya replied, the biggest smile on her face as she managed to bond with Diego in a way she had never been capable of before. How could Five have interrupted that moment for her? Easy. He just couldn’t.

Sighing about himself, he leaned forward between the two front seats, getting hit in the head by Allison’s flailing arms and almost knocked out by Diego’s twitching elbow, to grab for the volume on the radio.

“What did you say, Diego?” He repeated Vanya’s words from earlier as he turned up he music. “I cannot hear you!”

He sat back in his seat then, arms crossed in front of his chest and nodded to himself, quite pleased with just listening to the music around him.

Oh, yeah I, tell you something, I think you’ll understand.

When I say that something: I want to hold your hand.

I want to hold your hand.

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jerkbitchidjitassbutt · 5 years

Text

What If I Told You (9)

Characters: Jensen x Reader; Jared Padalecki; SPN Cast members at times.

Summary: You and Jensen have been the closest of friends for years after meeting on the set of SPN, but what will happen when you and Jensen have a kissing scene?

Warnings: Cursing; divorce; break up; angst-ish at times, but mostly fluff. For this chapter: Canon divergence from the show, spn-related sadness.

I consider this an AU, as Jensen is divorced from an unnamed ex in this fic. This is completely a work of fiction, and I wouldn’t want his reality to be any different, this is purely for entertainment.

A/n: Just a tiny bit more until the big one. Flashbacks are in italics.

The darkened wood of the porch swing rasped slightly as you swung back and forth, but the only sound that rung in your ears was your own heartbeat. Jensen’s eyes glazed as they stared into yours, the words he’d just spoken hanging heavily in the air.

“I was begging myself not to leave you.”

He gave you a small smile, as if to say a million words with a single action that was only meant for you.

Leaning slightly into his side, the scent of his aftershave filling your senses, you reassured him, “Don’t worry, Jay. I promise, I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered.

His dimples appeared as he gave a genuine, gorgeous smile. “You know…” he began, gazing at the jade lawn and blossoming blooms of the small garden, “this is a pretty nice place.”

Taking in the scenery, you agreed. The home itself was picturesque. “Yeah. Something I’d like to have one day.”

Jensen gripped your hand tightly before Clint whistled for you gently, hoping to usher you into the waiting SUV to take you back to set. Jensen, Jared, and Misha had one more scene to film on location at the ‘borrowed’ house with the red front door and another down the road, but it was already nearing four o’clock in the afternoon and you were due back at the studio for make-up and wardrobe removal.

The two of you stood from the swing on the front porch and, to your surprise, Jensen walked you down the steps and sidewalk to your bodyguard’s vehicle.

Jensen quickly stepped in front of you to grip the handle, opening the back door and gesturing for you to slide in.

“Ever the gentleman.” You giggled, feeling a rush to your cheeks.

“Well, you know me… gotta keep it interesting.” He smirked.

You halted before stepping in through the open door and turned to face him. Jensen had caged you within the frame of the door and his body, resting his hands both on the door and the cool metal of the car’s frame, blocking you from the remainder of those on set. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust those he worked with, but he was a man that enjoyed his privacy, especially with those he was closest to.

You felt suddenly small in the confines of the space and under the watchful gaze of Jensen. He was the person you felt most comfortable around and knew you to the depths of your secrets, yet in this moment you felt as though all new ones were coming to the surface. You wrung your hands into knots behind your back as you swayed onto the balls of your feet, anxiously posing, “So, I guess I’ll see you at Rob’s thing tonight?”

“Yeah. Yeah—I’ll be there. I want to say ‘screw it’ and run off with you now and, uh… have that talk, but you know how it is. I’ve got to get back in there.” He said, seemingly nervous as well, but also collected and steady.

“No, yeah… I get that. No worries.” You sputtered, casting your eyes to your shoes for no reason at all, other than to avoid his.

“Hey.” He said, releasing the hand that was holding the door to tuck it beneath your chin, he index finger and thumb planting themselves to turn your face to him. “It’ll happen sweetheart. I promise. I’m anxious too, don't worry.”

You smiled in his embrace. He had an unexplainable gift of knowing precisely what you needed to hear. It was almost as if you were consistently thinking that you were going to wake up and it would all have been a dream; the kiss, the message, the emotions he had expressed, but he was doing everything to ensure you knew it wasn't.

“Okay. Promise?” you said with a smirk, extending your pinky finger.

He eyed your outstretched hand with a grin, releasing your chin to lock his smallest finger with yours. As he enclosed it around his own, he tugged it gently towards him, pulling you closer to lay a gentle, quick peck of a kiss to your lips that left a tingle in its wake. “Promise.”

He retreated to the sidewalk as you hopped onto the leather seat of Clint’s car and shut the door for you, waving as the car sped off down the street.

You cast your eyes out of the darkened glass of the window, eyeing the man who had shaken you to your core who was still standing on the gray sidewalk. He seemed even more beautiful in the late afternoon light that shown behind him, blooming in iridescence and arcs of color.

Secretly, Jensen was as nervous and apprehensive as you were, but he couldn’t deny any longer that this was what he wanted and now—now he was sure you felt the same. All of the trepidation from days past was slowly dwindling to new nerves; now he just wanted to make everything perfect. If he was honest with himself, this was no longer a question of whether, it was a question of how.

.....

Yesterday

“Hey man, glad you made it.” Jared said, not standing from his seat on his couch when Jensen let himself in through the front door of his apartment. Gen and the kids were with family in Austin in their new home, so Jared was by himself for the majority of this season.

“Yeah, thanks for the call.” Jensen said sarcastically.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I… interrupt something?” he enunciated.

“No.” Jensen replied immediately and a little too quickly. “No. Well—maybe? I don't know.”

That was enough to make Jared quickly stand. His long limbs carried him to where Jensen was pacing, fists shoved tightly into his leather jacket when his friend reached him. “Tell me what happened.”

“Well.” He began, “We kissed.”

“Yeah, and?” Jared probed.

Jensen looked at his friend with a slightly stunned expression, “I… I don't know, man. I don't think I’ve ever had a kiss like that. It was just supposed to be rehearsal kiss, but I couldn’t stop myself.”

Jared hid the smirk that was sneaking below the surface, an unmistakable glint in his friend’s eye—it wasn’t just a kiss. There was more to be told. “Okay, what else happened?”

Jensen paused, his eyes widening with realization as he replayed the rehearsed scene in his mind, “I said her name.” he all but sighed.

“Huh?” Jared asked, confused.

“In the scene… I said Y/n instead of Y/c/n… when I said, ‘I love you’. It was part of the script and I—I messed up. I let it slip.”

Jared could sense the battle raging in his friend’s mind, so he pushed further, “Okay, so what is it?”

Jensen raised a brow, curious as to where his friend’s mind was leading, “What do you mean?”

Using his height to boost himself, Jared perched against his kitchen counter, his long legs and torso making it easy to prop his hips against the marble and gestured towards his friend, “What’s holding you back? What’s making it so hard for you to admit that it wasn’t a slip up at all, but that you actually do feel that way for her? You said it was about your friendship—that you didn’t want to ruin it, but could it be something deeper than that? I get it if you’re scared, man. You don’t want to get hurt again or put yourself out there if it’s not given back. But answer me this… Was there anything behind that kiss that makes you question it? In that moment, did you even question if she felt it too?”

Jensen let himself relive the feeling of holding you in his arms, the softness of your skin underneath his fingertips, and the fire that erupted in his chest the minute his lips touched yours.

Jared’s lip curled at the edges as he watched Jensen’s expression shift from shock and confusion to realization as he asked, “Do you really think she—”

“Yeah.” Jared interrupted, clasping his friend on the shoulder. “Yeah, I think she does. Now, the only question is: are you going to let your fear of ruining your ‘friendship’ ruin any chance with her, or are you gonna go for it? Because, if you want my advice—which you always do…” he said, giving a slight, boastful bow, “I think you should go for it. No more games, no more ‘what-ifs’… nothing. Just take the dive.”

Jensen felt his chest tighten with excitement at the thought. Giving his friend a nod and a smile, he left with a resolve and a dinner appointment with the executives of the studio fast approaching, one which he could only hope would pass quickly.

After reaching your voicemail later that night, he only contemplated stopping by your place about five hundred times before returning to his own apartment, sauntering in through the hallway littered with photos. He wasn’t always a nostalgic or ‘feely’ guy, but when it came to his friends and family, he liked to have a reminder of who was behind him through it all. He passed photos of his parents and siblings, of childhood friends who stood the test of time into adulthood, and of Jared and Misha.

Jensen took pause in front of one taken about a year ago, of the two of you on set in Impala. You were nestled under the crook of his arm, tucked into his side and holding him around his waist, but your face was beautifully lit up with laughter. Your eyes were closed, and a brilliant smile made your cheeks a rosy tint. He had just told you what was probably the lamest joke in history, but it tickled you to well into tears after the photo was snapped.

Trust. Laughter. Safety. Excitement. Love. Everything he’d ever want in a relationship—and it was right in front of him.

He couldn’t wait anymore, he had to jump in.

.....

Jared bounded down the front steps in his Sam Winchester attire and clapped Jensen on the shoulder, “Hey man. You gonna take my advice?”

A grin fell upon his lips as your car slipped from view, “Yeah… Yeah, I am.”

A/n 2: I received an anon ask when I was looking for fic ideas(see below) for a Jensen x actress!reader fic a while ago, but recently got hit with a spark of inspiration. This is based off of the song “What if I Said” by Anita Cochran and Steve Wariner and will be a short mini-series. Also there is a wife mentioned in some parts, but I purposefully left this person nameless as to not insinuate anything for Jensen’s real life.

Anonymous said: Hi! Just saw your post about looking for fic ideas. I’ve had this idea that I really like where reader is an actor on Supernatural and is friends with Jensen. They have a scene where they have to kiss or even just have to be right up in each other’s space and it makes them realize they like each other. It’s probably a common thing to write about, but I thought I’d ask anyway. Thanks!

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yesmrskarsgard-onhiatus · 4 years

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My Dirty Dancer Part 3 - Revenge (Bill Skarsgård AU)

{Authors Note ~ Here was go! Part 3! I’m so excited for you guys to read this! Thank you to everyone who’s showing support through this series I really appreciate it! ❤️}

Previous Chapters - Part 1 / Part 2

Next Chapter - Part 4

Tag List ~ @simplyrucas @billofourtime @walkxthexmoon @butterscotchseventeen @bskarsgardlove92 @b-afterhours

"Make sure you loosen up your hips guys, feel the music pull the movement from you." You call back to the class of holidaymakers who were following your dance instructions. Holding the sides of your ruby red skirt next to your hips you kept up the simple one, two, three, four movement of the Merengue while looking back at the class in the mirror before you. They weren't the worst class you'd ever taught, but unfortunately most of the men had no idea what loose hips were, and looked more like confused chickens pacing back and forth than anything else. Still, you carried on calling out the moves and demonstrating them to the beat of the music, watching your 'students' in the mirror. That was until you saw a familiar person standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and carefully watching what you were doing. "Bill..." You sighed under your breath, not looking over to him and instead turning round, smiling to the class and skipping round them, watching their movements and trying to pretend that the feeling of two emerald eyes burning into you didn't make your stomach twist with nerves. Eventually your eyes wandered over to him and were met with a dark brooding gaze, hard and intimidating.

Obviously he was pissed about what you said the night before. And you still had 25 minutes left to teach.

"Ok, I hope you enjoyed that everyone! You were all amazing!" You called to the class, smiling sincerely as you watched them disperse and walk out from the studio room. Looking over to the door you didn't see Bill anymore, and assumed that he'd left - finally. So you turned around and walked over to the bench, collecting your bag and hooking it over your shoulder just as you heard a slow sarcastic clapping coming from behind you. Slowly, you straightened up and sighed. He hadn't gone. "So, not exactly a newbie after all. You've got the 'fake excitement and enthusiasm for the class' perfected." His deep voice resonated throughout the room, filled with so much dominance and tinted with aggression that it made you shiver just to hear it. You rolled your eyes at his words, fixing your hair while still looking out of the window. "Unlike some people, I don't have to fake my emotions." Was your retort, turning around to face him and finding him standing only inches from you. "Oh!" A gasp fell through your lips as your eyes had to immediately adjust to look up into his. "You sure about that, Y/N?" Bill looked down to you, his voice quiet but still carrying power with it. His eyes darted down to your lips as he closed the distance between your two bodies, backing you against the wall. "I mean, are you really sure? Because the emotions I just saw from you were completely different than what I saw you feel yesterday-" He moved his hand to your face and gently took your bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger, running the pad of his thumb across your lip with his eyes still boring into yours. "-When we were dancing together...I felt it..." Bill whispered to you, lowering his face closer to yours. Your heart was racing, and your knees were threatening to give way as you felt your back press against the wall. "Well...W-Why were you staring at me anyway? Got nothing better to do?" You tried everything in your power to force your voice to be strong, but it was barely above a whisper. He chuckled lowly before you, moving the hand that was next to your face to the wall beside your head, and doing the same with his free hand, completely trapping you. "Well, actually I'm not very happy about what you said to me last night, about me being desperate." He growled to you, his lips now moving right next your ear as he spoke. "So let's see how this affects you." Then his lips connected with your neck, just pressing gently at first before he began to suck on the skin just below you ear, biting it gently as he made a path down to your collarbone. Small moans left his mouth and reverberated through your body, making every part of you weak for him. Doing your best not to make any noises of pleasure, you clenched your jaw, small whimpers leaving your mouth. God, he was good at that. After a few moments of mark-leaving, Bill pulled back staring you straight in the eyes before biting his lips a little as he regarded the red spots on your neck. "Let's see who's the desperate one now, shall we?" He scoffed as he saw your shocked and frankly bewildered face, then turned on his heel and was gone before you could respond properly.

~A month later~

"I cannot believe he did that to you!" You were sitting on your bed, legs pulled up to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, watching your friend wave her arms around wildly in disbelief. You had finally found the courage to tell her about what had happened with Bill in the studio, after a month of small incidents with him that consisted mostly of him touching your arms gently, kissing your neck or lips when no one was looking and winking at you nearly every time he saw you. "And before that he'd just been standing there watching you while you taught?" Lizzie turned back to you, tilting her head as she poses the question even after hearing the story multiple times. "Yeah, for like half an hour. Just watching me." You shivered at the thought.

After Bill had left the studio you had immediately made your way back to your cabin, shoved your bag on your bed and changed out of your dress. For a few minutes you had looked at yourself in the mirror, examining the small but noticeable red marks left on the skin of your neck. They were gone within a couple of days, three at the most, but they still served as a reminder of what had happened. "I cannot believe him!" The loud voice of Lizzie pulled you back to the present. "I mean Jesus Christ you were only here for one day and he already started preying on you like that! He's such a dick!" Her fists were balled up and her jaw was clenched, and when you looked closer you saw small tears welling in the corners of her eyes. This went deeper than just a friend wanting to protect you. Slowly, you turned and stood up from the bed, walking over to her and resting your hand gently on her shoulder. "What is this Liz? What's really wrong here?" Your voice was quiet but carried with it a strength you knew she'd need. The brunette looked at you at first as if she had no idea what you were talking about, but as your eyes conversed silently with each other, her gaze softened and moved to the floor. "Y/N...You've only been here for a month...well you were only here for one day when you saw what Bill is like." Her eyes met yours once again, presenting you with raw emotion that made your heart ache. "Well...I was here when he arrived. I've seen all the changes within him and been witness to all the despicable things he's done...To others and to myself. He doesn't care about who he hurts, or how many times he hurts them. He gets what he wants and then leaves." Her hand grasped yours. "He doesn't feel genuine emotions toward people. The only time you see how he actually feels is when he's dancing. That's it." As you listened to her words your face fell, but you kept your hand on her shoulder and gave her intermittent squeezes, reassuring her that you were there for her. "I'm sorry honey. That sounds awful." Sighing softly you pulled Lizzie close to you and enveloped her in your arms. "Thank you. But it's ok Y/N, it's ok, because I'm not going to let him do what he's done to you and get away with it." She mumbled into your shoulder before pulling away and looking straight at you. "He's not going to get away with it." Then, quicker than you could respond she had walked out of the room and then out of the cabin, leaving you to wonder what exactly she was planning on doing.

#bill skarsgard #bill skarsgard x reader #bill skasgård #my dirty dancer #bill skarsgard au #bill skarsgard fanfiction

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imagineredwood · 5 years

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Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Pairing: EZ Reyes x Camila (OC)

Warnings: None really, a bit of angsty-ish parts

Word count: 3.2k

Translations: perdón - sorry, No te preocupes - Don’t worry.

Camila focused on herself in the mirror, blending the last of mocha brown eyeshadow into her crease. Putting the brush down, she sat back some and looked over her face, eyes stuck on her lips. She looked over her organized lipsticks, over the various shades of nudes she had. Movement in the doorway caught her attention and she looked through the mirror behind her, finding EZ standing there at the doorway, arms crossed across his chest and a smile across his lips. She returned the grin and he pushed himself off the wall, walking toward her slowly. He came up to stand behind her while she sat at the vanity, hands resting on her shoulders as they maintained eye contact through the mirror. She pouted as she looked at him and he copied her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what lipstick to wear.”

EZ came around her and looked down at the organizer over the various lipsticks before looking back at her whole face.

“Where’s that one that you wear a lot? The glossy one?”

Camila furrowed her brows and looked around, picking up her usual sheer shimmer gloss and holding it up to him.

“This one? I wear this almost every day.”

EZ nodded and gave her a smile.

“I know. It’s my favorite. It doesn’t hide these.”

He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her bare lips, tugging her bottom lip down slightly as she smiled. She kissed his thumb slowly before he pulled away and he smirked.

“Don’t start anything we can’t finish. We gotta leave in 20 minutes.”

The brunette gave a laugh and held her hands up before taking the tube of lip gloss back from EZ’s hands. He made his way back behind her and adjusted his kutte as he watched her slather the champagne gloss over her plump pout. She smacked her lips together and then nodded.

“Good choice, mi amor.”

He smiled gently and held his hands out to her to help her stand from the bench. She grabbed onto them and allowed him to pull her up, his eyes locked on her mouth. His voice was low as he spoke.

“Definitely should’ve stolen a kiss before you put that gloss on.”

Camila beamed and tapped the tip of his nose with her index finger, throwing a wink.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait until we get back from El Padrino’s party.”

With a nod, EZ sighed and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek.

“I guess so. Now get dressed.”

Camila saluted him sarcastically and walked past him toward her closet where the beige dress was hanging. She didn’t escape without a swift pat to the ass as she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“What do you think?”

EZ turned around and looked at Camila as she stood there, dressed and ready to go. His mouth hung open slightly as he took her in. Her hair was flowing, shiny and healthy as ever but it was neater, more sleek that her usual purposefully messy waves. It was pushed back from her face some, her features front and center. She wore a little more makeup than usual, but her skin was still coming through, glowing from within. The beige dress showed a little more skin than usual as well and EZ couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing over the bronze of her shoulder and chest, legs out and calves defined in her heels. The brown of her dress contrasted well with the brown of her skin and she looked like a goddess. His goddess. EZ stood from the couch, eyes still glued to her and she smiled softly under his gaze. He was looking at her in a way he hadn’t before, and she knew it was because he was seeing her in a way that he hadn’t before. He walked up and reached forward, resting his hands on her ample hips, loving how the fabric accentuated her shape. His eyes moved from her body back up to her eyes and he smiled as she looked up at him through dark lashes.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, querida. Like a dream.”

She gave a nervous chuckle and instinctively looked down at her toes, painted white and sticking out of the tips of her heels. EZ’s finger made its way under her chin and pulled slightly, angling her head back up to meet his eyes once again.

“I mean that. You look beautiful, Cam.”

“Gracias, Ezekiel.”

He smiled again and nodded, the hand that was holding her chin now sliding to hold on the side of her head.

“De nada, mi Corazon.”

Her smile was bright then and she playfully pushed at his chest.

“Stop, you’re making my cheeks hurt.”

He chuckled softly to himself and apologized, running his hands up and down her bare shoulders.

“Let’s get going, mami.”

He slid his hands down her arms and let them rest on the small of her back, guiding her toward the front door of her home and opening it for her. They walked out together onto the driveway, Camila’s heels clicking on the pavement as they went passed EZ’s bike and toward her car. She handed him her keys and motioned to the driver’s seat.

“You know where we’re going.”

He took the keys from her hand and went with her to her side, opening the door for her and helping her in before closing it behind her and jogging around to the driver’s side. He hopped in and started the car up. Backing up the car, he pulled out of her driveway and started down the road, reaching over to rest his hand on her thigh as he drove. Camila looked down at his hand, veins running along the back of it and then looked over and him, both sharing small smiles before looking away. EZ pulled his eyes back to the road while she looked out of the window and watched the buildings pass, their smiles still in place.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Camila looked around as EZ helped her out of her car.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

He said nothing else as Camila kept taking in the scenery of the ranch. The cars were lined up along the parking on the side of the landscaping, a huge country club in the middle. Camila looked to EZ and he half smiled, half cringed.

“El Padrino used to head the MC but he stepped down. He’s…working something else now. Better money.”

Camila nodded and held onto his arm as they walked toward the building together.

“Clearly.”

He chose to leave it at that, now not being the time to get into Marcus’ shift into the cartel and his shaking up with the Galindos. He was sure Camila know enough to know that this wasn’t a place that could be rented by any old MC member, ex-president or not. He allowed her to hang onto him as they walked in, a man in a three-piece suit waiting at the door to open it for them. EZ ushered Camila in ahead of him and they walked to the side, most people dressed for the occasion save for the noticeable matching kuttes of the Mayans. Angel, Coco, and Gilly spotted EZ and Camila before they could notice the boys and started making their way over to them, Camila smiling as soon as she laid eyes on them. Gilly pushed forward ahead of Angel and Coco with a bright beaming smile, all teeth as he whistled and held his hand out to Camila.

“Fuckin’ look at you!”

She placed her hand into his and he spun her around once before she pulled away laughing and blushing.

“Chill.”

Gilly kept his grin and released her, Angel stepping up next and wrapping his arms around her tightly, not having seen her for a whole week now.

“You do look nice.”

She nodded and reached down to gently grab the sides of her dress, pulling them out to display that dress.

“Nicest I’ve looked since my Quinceañera. I’m sure I won’t be keeping these shoes on for long.”

They continued to say their hellos and Angel lead her and EZ back to the rest of the MC to say hello as well. After a million hugs and kisses, Camila felt EZ grab her upper arm and maneuver her to the side, Marcus standing there in the nicest suit of all beside Bishop. They both looked over as EZ and Camila stepped closer. Bishop smiled brightly and opened his arm to her, Camila stepping into his embrace and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, Bish.”

“Hola, cariño.”

Bishop released her and then motioned to Marcus with his other hand.

“I don’t believe you two have met.”

Camila shook her head and smiled warmly at Marcus, sticking out her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Marcus. I’m Camila.”

El Padrino returned her smile and bypassed her hand, leaning in for a hug of his own. She returned the embrace and they pulled away, Marcus speaking first.

“Nice to meet you too, Camila. I’ve heard about you.”

Camila smiled nervously.

“Good things, I hope.”

Marcus nodded, patting Bishop’s shoulder.

“Only the best.”

Camila looked back to Bishop and he nodded once, a lopsided smile on his face. Marcus clapped him on the back and motioned to the wall of doors on the back wall, a beautiful garden outback with chairs lined up for the ceremony.

“Everyone can start getting their seats. I put you all in the first and second rows.”

Bishop nodded and they clasped their hands together before pulling away, Bishop starting to lead the MC outside.

They all took their seats, some people already in theirs. It wasn’t an overly large crowd when taking into account how may loved ones, friends, acquaintances, and associates a man like Marcus had, but there were an easy seventy people. Camila was sat between EZ and Angel and she continued to look around, a quiet scoff coming from Angel. She looked toward him and pushed her shoulder into his.

“What are you making noises over there for?”

The older Reyes brother shook his head and looked back at her.

“Leave it to you to be sitting in a mansion like this but be focused on the bushes.”

Shaking her own head, she grinned, and Angel returned it.

“I missed you, Angel. And they’re not bushes, they’re shrubs.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

“You want something to drink?”

Camila looked over to her right at EZ.

“Uh, what do they have?”

“Champagnes and wines that cost way too much, probably.”

Camila nodded, knowing he was right and gave a shrug.

“Get me a White Russian if you can. If not, I don’t know, get me apple juice.”

EZ laughed at the jump in her preferences and so did she, closing her eyes as he leaned down and kissed her temple.

“I’ll be back.”

Camila nodded as EZ walked away from the table and looked down at the bright white tablecloth, running her finger over the fabric. She looked over the entire cloth before she turned her attention to the ceiling, looking over the intricacies of the architecture. At the boxed dropdowns, the arches of the walkways that reach all the way up, the thick pillars at the entrances and exits. She looked around the entire hall, taking in everything and before long she looked down at her rose gold watch, seeing that EZ had been gone for ten minutes now. Looking around, she figured he must’ve gotten caught up with someone, the life of a prospect never being easy. She started people watching then to pass the time as was startled as she felt a hand come to rest on her shoulder. She looked back and saw Angel standing there, pulling out the seat that EZ had been sitting in and taking a seat in it himself beside her.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Camila shook her head quickly, thankful for the company.

“Don’t worry about it. I was just caught up in my head.”

Angel nodded at that and took a sip from his beer.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

A silence fell over the two of them and Camila continued to look around, her eyes finally settling on EZ as she picked him out of the crowd. She saw him standing there, a beer in one hand and her White Russian in the other. He stood there holding both and talking to someone standing in front of him. There were people crowded around and Camila couldn’t really see who he was speaking to but as the group moved, she saw the blonde woman that had been at the restaurant, then the bookstore, then Kevin’s photo. It was Emily, with her blonde hair and black dress, a small smile on her face as she spoke with EZ. They spoke back and forth, and Camila couldn’t help but wonder if he had been there with her the whole time. Angel followed Camila’s eyes and winced, shaking his head as his baby brother.

“You ok, Cam?”

She turned toward him swiftly and then nodded.

“Yeah. Just want my drink.”

She gave a little laugh, but Angel could tell there was more to it. She shook his head feverishly, pointing at Emily with the mouth of his beer.

“Do you know who that is, or?”

Camila nodded and looked back at him.

“Yeah. He’s told me. She came to the bookstore once and we saw her at a restaurant when we first got together.”

Angel stayed looking at his baby brother and Emily, a small flame of anger starting to burn in him at that thought of EZ having seemingly forgotten about his new girl in exchange for catching up with the old one. Suddenly Camila looked at Angel again and this time she stayed looking, her eyes showing that she had something she wanted to say. She battled with herself for a member before finally speaking.

“They were serious, weren’t they?”

Angel stayed quiet and Camila spoke again.

“He says that she was just an ex, but I can tell there was more to it than that.”

At that, Angel nodded. He took a swig of his beer once again.

“They were a little serious, yeah. They were together when EZ got locked up. High school sweethearts, that kinda shit. She uh…”

Angel trailed off, wondering if it would soothe her or anger her if he told her the truth. Camila had seemed to be a levelheaded person so far as he was concerned and he opted to tell her the truth, hoping that the added clarity would ease her worries.

“She was pregnant. He ended things, she was pissed, got rid of the kid to spite him, it was a whole big fucking mess. Then he did all those years and she kinda faded away into the past.”

Camila nodded, listening to Angel and looked back at her boyfriend who still stood there with Emily.

“Until now.”

Angel grunted and even with as stupid as he felt his baby brother was being at the moment, he decided to try and help him out some.

“She’s married to Marcus’ boss now. That’s why she’s here and why we’re all here. It’s all business.”

Camila gave a big nod now, understanding much more. She wasn’t just his ex, she was once the mother of his first child, now wife of his MC’s business partner. She felt the bubbles of jealousy start to settle some, a slow song now being put on by the DJ. Couples stood and made their way to the dancefloor, hold and embracing each other, swaying slowly to the ballad and Camila felt a wave of loneliness come over her, wishing that she could’ve shared the dance with EZ. She took a deep breath though and let it out, just thankful for him and the moments that he had spent with her, including bringing her to this function with him. She had never known there was so much history with Emily and now that she knew the truth, she still had patience with him. His leaving her alone so he could catch up with his ex when he had asked her to come was making it a little harder to be patient though. Instead, she put on a smile and turned in her chair to face Angel.

“So, have you been cooking lately?”

Angel spoke to her enthusiastically about the dishes he had been trying, the ones he had nailed and the ones that had made him gag. He told her about how good his homemade meatballs had been and how even Felipe had taken down the recipe. They were still talking when EZ came back, hurrying to place Camila’s White Russian down in front of her only for them to both look down at it and see the clear ring floating on the top of the drink, all the ice now melted.

“Sorry, baby. I got caught up,”

Camila nodded and EZ could see that her body language was off. Pulling his eyes away from her, he looked at Angel and saw the disapproving look on his face, lips pursed slightly. EZ hung his head some, knowing then that if Angel had noticed, there wasn’t any way that Camila hadn’t. Angel’s eyes felt like they were burning holes into the side of EZ’s face as he stared at him and he picked Camila’s cup back up, smiling at her to try and smooth things over.

“Let me get you another one.”

Shaking her head, Camila pushed a smile. EZ had seen enough of them to know easily that this one was fake. He gingerly placed the cup back down onto the table and looked at Angel to see if he would get up and give EZ back his seat. All Angel gave in return was a defiantly angry look at his baby brother and EZ swallowed dryly, wondering if Camila had told Angel she was upset. He reached down and grabbed one of her hands, pulling at it softly.

“Let’s go dance.”

Camila looked up at him and just like that, the song came to an end, the couples starting to return to their seats. Smiling sadly, Camila ran her hands over her thighs, smoothing her dress as she stood.

“It’s ok. I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”

She leaned over and pressed a kiss to EZ’s cheek before pulling away and grabbing her purse, letting her hand rest on Angel’s shoulder as she walked away. Making her way back to the lobby where the restrooms were, Camila passed the dessert area and across the lobby. As she walked into the hall where the bathrooms were, a man in a charcoal suit stepped out of the male door, dark hair combed neatly, his salt and pepper sprinkled beard outlining his features. He looked up as her heels came into view and she stepped back, both smiling.

“Ay, perdón.”

“No te preocupes, señorita.”

He took a step back himself and motioned for her to go first which she did with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“De nada.”

She went into the female bathroom while the man headed back to his table and his wife. The girl clearly had no idea who he was, but he knew who she was, and he stole a glance to the Reyes brothers sitting together many tables away, the older one clearly chastising EZ. Looking away, he trained his eyes back on his wife who was smiling at him and holding out a plate of red velvet cake.

“Here, Miguel. They had one of your favorites.”

taglist: @caramara3 @lostgirl219 @mrsjaxtellerfan @actuallyazriel @vannabanana1995 @unnecessarypineapplesstuff @thegreat-annamaria @negansdirtygirl22 @svintsandghosts @piccasoe @tobesurroundedbysplendidthings @jadert15

#ez reyes #angel reyes #Mayans MC #imagines #el destino #mayans imagine #bishop losa #ez x camila

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ceruleanmusings · 4 years

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hope floats | stiles x perrie

Of course I can’t have Tessa without Perrie so here’s a gift for @sgtbuckyybarnes! I love seeing your edits on my dash (you’re hella talented!) and I love your writing and your OCs and you so I hope this puts a smile on your face!

-----

“You know, when you invited me over, I thought we were actually going to hang out,” Perrie commented, placing a hand on her hip.

Stiles blinked at her over his shoulder, his eyebrows crinkling. “We are hanging out.”

“Yeah, but I thought that meant playing Mario Kart or watching Star Wars. Not painting a room.” She waved her arm around the room in question, careful not to touch the wall she’d laid a layer of primer over. Sniffing, she brushed the sleeve of the blue flannel shirt hanging off her frame. The scent of Stiles wafted off the arm of the shirt, kicking out the pungent scent of fresh primer. It was a nice change from the burning in her nostrils; soothing and warm and woodsy.

“If I had asked you to help me paint, you wouldn’t have come.”

Scoffing, Perrie crossed her arms. “Yes I would.”

“Sure Pear.” Stiles rolled his eyes and turned away from the wall he had been working on. Perrie stepped back as he lowered and shifted the large roller in his hands, pressing the foam tip against the paint tray by his feet. Reaching back, he messed with the bill on his ball cap by his neck; the band across his forehead shifted from side to side. “Look, my dad’s been working long hours lately. He keeps saying that he’s going to get this done but then something comes up and…” he blew out a breath. His freckled cheeks bulged at the effort behind it.

Perrie licked her lower lip, dropping her hand from her hips. “Papa Stilinski still eating badly?”

Stiles snorted. “I found a package of hostess cupcakes in the back of his closet.”

“What were you doing in his closet?”

Stiles’s eyes shifted for a second. “Well…well I wasn’t snooping!” At the incredulous look on Perrie’s face, he continued, “I was looking for something.”

“For what?”

“The cupcakes.” Perrie laughed and Stiles rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Perrie, I’m leaving in a few months. Dad hasn’t been alone and…” His long, slim fingers drummed against the shaft of the paint roller and the tip of his tongue swiped against his lower lip. When she spoke again, his words were so soft she almost missed it, “I just want to make sure he’s here when I come back.”

Clicking her tongue, Perrie stepped forward, making sure to lift her feet so as not to trip over the tarp covering the carpeted floor. Once close, her hand clapped down on his shoulder and she gave it a squeeze, smiling up at him as he looked at her beneath his unfairly thick lashes. “I’m sure he wouldn’t dream of anything else, Frecklebutt.”

Stiles let out a little sarcastic laugh and, before she could move, he lifted the paint roller and dabbed it against her nose. Stepping backward, she let out a noise of indignant shock but the smile curling on her lips and the sparkle nestling in her eye let her amusement shine through.

“Cheap shot, Stilinski!” she said, wiping the paint off her nose. It smeared a bright white streak against the sleeve of the flannel. For a second her nose wrinkled and she felt guilty for soiling it but then she shrugged. Stiles had yanked it out of his closet and thrown it at her to use it and she was sure more paint than that would end up on it anyway. She didn’t let herself think too long about the fact that he let her wear one of his most prized flannel shirts without a second thought. There was nothing to unpack there. Really. Clearing her throat, she looked around the empty room.

It was bare of everything that used to fill the office, leaving the very dark gray color behind. Even the bright shaft of sunlight from the blind-less windows didn’t seem to help brighten the place up. It still felt cold and drab; boring and unexciting.

“I got this powder blue color. Think it might be a bit too bright but, uh, the people at the store said it would be fine,” he replied. He lifted his chin, jerking it towards the four cans stacked in the corner closest to the door. A wireless speaker docking station sat atop of it, waiting to be put to use.

“Powder blue, huh?” Perrie lifted her eyebrows. “Any particular reason for that?”

“It’s…uh…it’s a nice color?”

“Do you want to make sure your dad doesn’t forget you or are you planning on haunting him while you’re at college?” She had to ask; he wouldn’t be that forthcoming with his feelings otherwise. And she knew, deep in her gut, that it wasn’t a coincidence he picked the same color as his jeep for the color of his dad’s office. She’d spent so much time in that jeep, riding around town with Scott and Stiles and sometimes just Stiles that she could recognize the color down to the smallest bit of pigment.

Talk about them leaving, about graduation coming around the corner came in small bursts. He’d always bring it up during a comfortable lull, when they were laying on the floor of his room after stuffing their faces with pizza, when they were sitting in his jeep when he’d dropped her off, taking her time to get inside. Because moments like these, when it was just her and Stiles, were few and far between.

Not that she particularly noticed. It’s just, well, it had always been the three of them: Scott, Perrie, and Stiles. And soon it wouldn’t be. Scott would cart off to UC Davis, Stiles was going across the country, and Perrie was shooting for University of Georgia (they had a good criminal justice track). And, sure, maybe she and Stiles would be closer, mere states away, but…it was states away. If she wanted to see him, she could just hop on her bike and take a ten-minute ride to see what he was up to. In a few short months she’d have to plan meetups in advance. Who does that?

Beacon Hills spoiled her, that’s for sure.

Not that she’d ever say it out loud, but it was…nice. Being able to talk to him was nice. Being able to see him every damn day since kindergarten was nice. Cracking jokes and staying up conducting research and trying to study as he rambled on about something new he learned about reptile copulation when he got distracted by Wikipedia was the best! If she didn’t even want to think about leaving, she couldn’t imagine how Papa Stilinski was feeling.

And they were friends.

Just friends.

“Well, let’s hope with how calm things have been lately that it’s not the latter,” Stiles said.

Perrie squinted at him, focusing in on the weight to his words. “You sound disappointed,” she ventured.

“I’m not.” Right. And I’m the next in line for the throne. Her sarcastic thought must have read on her face because he sighed and continued, “I mean, it’s nice to not have to worry about what’s going to try and kill me when I wake up in the morning but….”

“But?”

“I don’t know. It’s…like…sometimes I don’t know what to do. To help or be useful if…there’s nothing to be useful for. It’s dumb, I know.”

“Hey, you’re not dumb. I get it. C’mon, I’m not like Scott and the others. I’m just human, like you, and I’m not some gunslinger like Braeden or an archery master like Allison. We just…gotta do the best with what we can. And you’re the best at figuring things out.”

“S’not that hard, not when people leave such obvious clues…”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you help and you matter. Just because you’re leaving Beacon Hills doesn’t mean you don’t. You’re going onto bigger and better things. You’re going to Quantico for fuck’s sake. People from here don’t do that unless they’re meant to do big things.”

“Well, gee, Pear, don’t get all sentimental on me.”

“I’m not, doofus.” She made a show of lightly punching him on the shoulder, knocking it backwards. “I’m just trying to make you be less stupid. I should be getting paid for that overtime work. In fact, I should be getting paid for this too. I’m giving up some much needed girl time due to your lies.”

“I’m planning on feeding you. Is that not enough?”

“No. I may get lung damage from these fumes.”

“Can’t make things easy for me, can you?”

“Of course not. Where’s the fun in that?”

“You know it’s rude to have it at someone else’s expense.”

“Do you ever listen to yourself when you talk?”

Exasperation radiated off Stiles in waves. “Shut up and help me paint, okay? I’m definitely not going to pay you to stand around and rag on me all day.”

“You’re lucky I’m available for that for free,” she said and flashed a cheeky grin. He shot a mocking smile back at her and shook his head.

Still grinning, she turned and approached the speaker system. She picked up his abandoned phone on the ground and swiped her thumb against the screen, quickly completing his lock pattern. Clicking her tongue, she brought up the music player and flicked her thumb through artists until she settled on something with a happy hum. She set the phone into the docking station, turned up the volume, and bobbed her head to the beat of the music, a nice fuse between retro surf-rock and ska with a touch of punk thrown ontop.

“These guys are good,” she said over the undulating guitars; she could almost see the ebbing and flowing waves in her mind. The blue paint Stiles was pouring helped.

“Yeah? I think so too. Just found ‘em online. Scott pointed me in their direction. They’re called Slow Kids at Play.”

Whipping out her phone, Perrie quickly typed the band’s name in google. “They’ve been around since 2009…call themselves musical geniuses…huh.” She brought her phone closer to her face, nearly going cross-eyed as she examined the screen. “Drummer’s pretty cute.”

“Let me see.” She barely had time to react when Stiles all but snatched the phone out of her hand. Her cry of protest was buried beneath the flourishing chorus. And so she stood back and waited, studying the side of his face, the furrow to his brows, the purse of his lips followed quickly by the clench of his jaw, sharpening the strong outline and…

Hmmm!

Her lips all but curled like a Cheshire cat. She briefly ran her tongue against her lower lip and crossed her arms. “You know, it’s interesting. I didn’t think your eyes could change color like that.”

“What?” Stiles’s head whipped up. “Change color, waddya…? Oh no. No. No no no, this can’t be happening to me. I knew I should have looked into that damn dog biting me but Scott said it was just scared. Because who wouldn’t be scared at having a needle shoved in their ass? Okay, okay…” he took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, his shoulders all but hovering by his ears. “Just…just rip off the bandage. What color are they? Gold? Red? Orange?”

“Green,” Perrie replied.

Silence. Then—

“Oh, god!”

“Stiles!” Her utterance of his name was wrapped up in a laugh that had him looking at her in a way only he could muster: half apprehension, half confusion, with one eye squinted and the other widened to owlish levels. “They’re…they’re green!” she wheezed. “Like envy.”

“I…what?” Stiles shook his head, looked at the phone in his hand, back to her, back to the phone, and then to her again. “I’m not…no way. I’m not jealous.”

“Envious,” she corrected and at his hard look she shrugged and said, “blame Lydia; you know how she gets about vocabulary.”

“This isn’t about vocabulary.”

“You’re right. It’s about you being envious.” She snatched his phone out of his hand and locked the screen with a press of her thumb to the side.

“I’m not.”

“Right, because it’s normal for your face to do that…that thing.” She poked his cheek and he swatted her away.

It was, actually, but once upon a time it used to be directed at Lydia and at any guy that dared to breathe in her direction. And Jackson. Dear god, Jackson. Stiles could have set the poor bastard on fire with the hatred in his eyes whenever he spotted Jackson grabbing Lydia, pulling her into a kiss, nuzzling his nose against her hair, holding her around the waist.

She knew that look on Stiles’s face because it was frequent, because it was so stark, because it was a look she worked hard to keep off her face lest he finally figured it all out.

“Just help me paint.”

Perrie flashed finger-guns at him and turned to her wall, ready and waiting to be painted. She picked up her abandoned roller, waited for him to roll his in the blue paint before she took a turn, turned back to her wall, and rolled one big, wet, spongy striped against the white. No turning back now.

They worked in silence, the music pouring out of the speakers jumping from one to the next as the genres shuffled. The mirth that once danced on her lips died a little every time she peeked a glance at Stiles over her shoulder and at some point she knew she was frowning and that Stiles would catch on and try to figure it out—because he always figures it out. Until he doesn’t.

Perrie sighed. Was it that terrible? Being envious or jealous or whatever over the fact that she could be interested in someone else? Was it such a joke to be dismissed without even giving it a second thought? Giving her a second thought? Just this once? It was supposed to be a joke but…well, the joke must be on her. Her mouth twisted to the side. Maybe it was all for the best, leaving. Graduating. Maybe then she’d finally give up the excruciating hope that, someday, things would be different. Not change, Stiles didn’t react well to that, but…different.

“Pear?”

Perrie turned, lips pressed together, eyebrows lifting in a silent question that was broken by a messy, sticky, swatch of blue pressing up against her cheek and across an eye. The pungent, sharp odor of paint shot up her nostrils and, when she spluttered, it lay thick across her tongue.

“Oh man, that’s the oldest trick in the book!” Stiles’s eyes sparkled, like the glitter-dotted surface of a wave.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight—kinda didn’t help that she was breathing in some harsh chemicals, thanks—and her fingers tightened on the shaft of her roller, wishing they were digging into the collar of his own flannel shirt as she yanked him towards her, getting up close and personal, smashing through that boundary that read just friends in big neon letters.

Instead, she twisted her hips, grounded herself, and pushed forward, running her own roller up his face. “Ha! Gotcha back!” she crowed, watching in satisfaction as he dragged a sleeve against his shirt; the red and black squares now marred with blue.

It was an all-out fight after that; running around the small room, tagging each other with their extended reach as much as they could. Footsteps dotted the tarp covered floor and odd paint splotches covered the primer and, if it were possible for the sky to melt, it would’ve been nestled within Perrie’s hair.

Their breaths, heavy with jubilant exhaustion, were stuttered by leftover laughter as they knelt on the floor. The remnants of their fight stared back at them. When they locked eyes their laughter started all over again, underlined by the bouncy pop song crooning that it’d make them lose their minds.

“Oh man, I’m hungry,” Perrie said, putting a hand to her grumbling stomach.

“Yeah, me too.” Stiles held his hand out to her. She grasped it and, in one swift and smooth yank, she was pulled to her feet. He swatted at his dark jeans, grimacing at the bright blue streak. Then he shrugged. “Want to go to Ruby’s?”

She looked down at her paint splattered shirt and jeans. “Like this?”

“Of all places, I don’t think Ruby’s cares much about dress code.” He swung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. Beneath the heavy weight, with the collar of the patterned fabric brushing up against her neck, her cheeks blazed and a. Their hips bumped as they walked together, Stiles steering her towards the door. “My treat.”

Reaching up, Perrie grasped his hand. He laced their fingers together. “My two favorite words.”

Her? Perrie Simmons, give up hope?

Now that was a joke.

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #stiles x oc #teen wolf oc #oc: perrie simmons #my writings #fics for friends

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pietrotheavenger · 5 years

Text

learn to love

summary: steve and y/n don’t get along. now, they have to.

pairings: au!steve rogers x fem!reader

warnings: hangovers, alcohol, swearing, arguing

a/n: don’t be a silent reader!!! please leave feedback

series masterlist

the following morning, simon, sophia, and sawyer tiptoed into steve’s bedroom. y/n and him were snuggled up one side of the bed, his arm holding her close to him. her head was tucked under his chin, her face partially hidden. somehow, they slipped onto his bed without waking them, despite the fact that all of his younger siblings could not stop giggling. they grabbed the sleeping couples phones off of the bedside table and took group selfies on both devices. steve didn’t have a password, so they easily set one of the selfies taken as his lock screen and messed around on his phone. simon was taking the selfie, holding the phone at arms length and managing to fit in everyone on the bed. sophia had a wild grin and a thumbs up while sawyer scrunched up his face and stuck his tongue out. simon stuck with a classic pout. one by one, each of them fell asleep in bed, leaving steve to a surprise when he woke up.

he yawned as his eyes flitted open. the first thing he saw was sawyer’s foot in his face. he shoved it away and surveyed the scene in front of him. “what the fuck?” he murmured to himself. he had no idea how they all had pulled it off quietly. he was rubbing his eye when he noticed that he was cuddling with y/n. she was still fast asleep. he stretched out until something in his back cracked and then returned to his original position. he ran his fingers along her side until she stirred and finally woke up. “good morning,” he smiled. his voice was deep and scratchy with sleep.

“fuck off,” she responded, burying her face into his chest. he laughed as he rubbed her back. her head was throbbing.

“wake up, i’m bored.”

“shh. go back to sleep,” she mumbled.

“we have company,” he said.

she looked up at him. he had a look of serenity at his face as gazed at her. his eyes were hooded and a lazy smile played on his lips. “your eyelashes are so long,” she marveled.

his smile grew and he replied, “thank you.”

she hummed back and raised her hand to gently touch them. “soft,” she whispered. she slowly sat up, her back on the headboard as she examined the scene around her. “when did they come in?”

“i have no idea.” he wrapped his arms around her waist, his head on her stomach.

she grabbed her phone and scrolled through her notifications as she ran a hand through his hair. “you’re awfully clingy first thing in the morning,” she commented.

“fuck off,” he exhaled. he was being lulled to sleep by her motions.

she had a text from natasha from the night before. have you killed each other yet?

she took a picture of steve fast asleep in her lap, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks, and sent it to her. “he’s like a koala combined with my ex boyfriend. clingy and won’t leave me alone.”

she checked her work email and social media. when she locked her phone and set it beside her, she noticed that sophia was awake.

“morning,” y/n yawned.

“good morning,” the younger girl replied. “i hope you don’t mind that we’re all in here,” she added.

“oh, it’s fine,” she waved it off. “i understand that you haven’t seen him in awhile. you want to spend every second you can while he’s still here, even if you’re both just sleeping.”

“exactly,” sophia smiled.

“steve made me drink a gallon of water before i went to sleep and now i really have to pee. but…” she trailed off and gestured to the blond, who was coiled around her.

“just shove him off,” sophia laughed.

“maybe i will,” y/n poked her tongue out and slowly began to remove his arms from around her. he stirred on tightened his grip. she groaned. “steve, i have to use the bathroom,” she said, poking his cheek. he grumbled something unintelligible back. her headache got more intense. she pinched the bridge of her nose, “i’m going to beat your ass,” she told him, without thinking. she only realized when sophia giggled. she tried to play it off by sugaring up her words. “c’mon babe.”

he pulled his arm away, and moved back onto the pillow. but, he was the one who was sleeping on the edge of the bed. she had to crawl over his body and finally she was free. she began rifling through her luggage when suddenly she remembered something.

she and steve had kissed last night.

she physically face palmed and couldn’t help but groan. luckily, sophia didn’t react. she quickly grabbed everything she needed before rushing into the bathroom, where the first thing she did was throw up into the toilet. she took a quick shower before dressing a tight fitting striped tank top, and her favorite pair of medium wash jeans. she returned to the room to put her dirty clothes back. sophia had disappeared, leaving simon to cuddle a pillow, and sawyer at the foot of the bed, somehow hoarding all of the blankets. they were both fast asleep. steve had also left the room. she found one a brown cardigan of his and pulled it on, as it was chilly in the massive house. she dusted on some light makeup before heading downstairs.

as she entered the kitchen, she pulled her hair into a scrunchie. there, she was greeted with mrs. rogers, bucky, and pietro chatting around the island. “good morning everyone,” she waved.

they all turned to look at her. “the life of the party,” bucky remarked.

“that bad, huh?” she scratched the back of her head. “i’m sorry about that-” she began but mrs. rogers cut her off.

“oh, no need for that. when i met joe’s parents, i got blackout drunk and made a fool of myself,” she shared. y/n tried not to look to shocked, but the boys reacted quite loudly, laughing and gasping in shock at the seemingly put-together woman. they tried to pry her for more information, but she would not budge. “i’ve said too much.”

“could you point me in the direction of some aspirin?” y/n asked.

“medicine cabinet,” pietro pointed to what he was referring to. “i’ve had my fair share of hangovers at chez rogers.”

“like when you boys stole beers from steve’s dad?” mrs. rogers teased.

“well, i don’t remember that,” bucky replied, sarcastically.

they continued on with the conversation as y/n snacked on a bowl of grapes. she stood at the island, lost in thought and half paying attention to the people around her. she didn’t even notice steve come in until he wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her cheek. he buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply. she threaded her fingers into his hair and gently raked her nails over his scalp. he was freshly showered and smelled heavenly. “good morning,” he mumbled, kissing her neck before pulling away.

“morning,” she smiled at him. he slapped her butt as he walked to the cupboards to get a glass. she yelped and playfully glared at him.

bucky faked vomiting. “you both are too much,” he told them.

“stay jealous,” steve responded, blowing him a kiss.

“anyways, now that sleeping beauty is awake, i think it’s time to go,” pietro spoke up, scooting back his bar stool.

“go?” steve looked to his mom.

“brunch,” she answered. “and then, i wanna take y/n shopping,” she added.

the couple shared a look. “okay,” he dragged it out. “well, i’m starving,” he clapped his hands together.

they piled into bucky’s car and drove to whatever overpriced restaurant that the boys had in mind. they got a table outside so y/n had an excuse that wasn’t pertaining to her hangover tonwear her sunglasses. she immediately ordered a mimosa and downed half of it before settling back in her chair.

“day drinking, are we?” bucky commented.

“i’m on vacation,” she shrugged.

“take it easy,” steve told her, a bit of a warning in his words. “you being mimosa-drunk is not the best idea if you’re gonna be hanging out with my mom.”

“at least i’m not vodka-drunk,” she retorted.

“i would prefer for you to be sober,” he bit back. he took a deep breath to keep his head level and to prevent a full blown argument.

“getting drunk is the best hangover cure,” pietro piped up.

she raised her glass and said, “cheers, i’ll drink to that,” and threw back the rest of it. she flagged down a waitress and ordered another one.

needless to say, she was a bit tipsy and slurring her words when they returned to his house. steve made her drink loads of water before attempting to tell her to lay down on the couch. “i don’t need you fucking drunk around my mom,” he hissed at her.

“cuddle me,” she pouted.

“will you lay down?” he asked, hands on his hips. he’d managed to get to sit down on the couch, but he wanted her to rest before going out again.

“if you cuddle me,” she reached her hands out for him. he sighed and took her hands, settling into the couch and pulling her into his side. she laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes. “i’m sorry i keep getting drunk. i don’t know how to cope,” she said quietly.

he trailed his hand up and down her back, collecting his thoughts for a moment before saying, “don’t feel bad.”

“i do,” she responded immediately. “i feel like i’m gonna blow everything.”

“hm, i trust you,” he hummed.

“i don’t like you very much, but you’re a good cuddler,” she spoke while yawning. “got me falling asleep.”

“i’ll add it to my résumé,” he chuckled. he looked down at her just as she looked up at him.

“i broke the contract last night,” she said in a hushed tone.

“i know, babe,” he whispered back. “we still have other rules to break.”

“no, we’re not gonna break the contract, again,” she insisted.

“what even were the rules?”

“no kissing, no posting on social media, no being an asshole, and no falling in love,” she rattled them off.

“we’ve got three more rules. three out of four is pretty good if you ask me.”

“no more breaking rules,” she insisted before drifting off.

“no more breaking rules,” he echoed. he stared off into space, letting his thoughts wander. he flinched when his mom called his name. his eyes flitted to the clock in the corner of the room. half an hour had paused. “in here!” he responded.

she entered, her purse in hand, saying, “have you seen y/n?” she paused when she saw the couple on the couch, a smile slowly creeping onto her face. “so cute,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her chest.

steve hummed back, looking down at the sleeping girl in his arms. he brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. “do you want me to wake her up?” he asked, not looking away.

“we can just go when she wakes up,” she answered. “i can get the laundry done in the meantime,” she added, breezing out of the room.

y/n sighed in her sleep, bringing her hand up to his chest and clenching a fistful of his shirt. he smiled to himself and thought, oh fuck me. he was catching feelings.

his mom managed to drag him into going on the shopping trip. sophia willingly tagged along. for the entirety of the outing, he acted coldly towards y/n. he opened doors and held her purse when she went into the fitting rooms, but he stood off by himself. at one point, mrs. rogers had told y/n, “oh, you can call me sarah.” she had looked to him, her face giddy but he didn’t even bat an eyelash at her.

eventually, she had to approach him. “steve? is everything okay?” she put her hand on his bicep.

“i’m fine,” he brushed away her touch.

“are you sure?”

“yes.”

“i don’t think you’re fine,” she pried. she took a step closer and he took a step back. that hit like a dagger in her heart. “steve,” she said, her voice cracking with hurt.

“just fuck off, y/n,” he told her, shrugging.

“why can’t you just talk to me?”

“why can’t you just fucking leave me alone? jesus,” he scoffed. “i can’t get a goddamn break from you.”

“you don’t need to get pissy with me. if you think i’m being too much, then tell me.”

“well then, you’re being too much. will you shut up, now?” he crossed his arms over his chest.

“you’re being an asshole,” she said through gritted teeth. there was a hint of warning in her tone.

“well, i guess that’s just another broken rule,” he smiled coldly at her.

“fuck you,” she spat, before turning away and stalking off.

his shoulders dropped and he rubbed his hand over his face. he exhaled a long breath. this trip was going to be a lot more difficult than he thought.

infinity tags:

@ssweet-empowerment ; @stardustandbucky ; @abuckyrogersworld ; @freightcarcap ; @c-a-v-a-l-r-y ; @coffeebooksandfandom ; @somethingmoreclever ; @2dreamcatcher8 ; @illegalportkey ; @fuckthatfeeling ; @xxashy999xx ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @tuliptx ; @wwhitewwolff ; @thisismysecrethappyplace ; @appreciating-chase-brody ; @renanyx ; @maladaptive-ninja-returns ; @marvelrose ; @sophiealiice ; @dreamsfollowed99 ; @galacticstxrdust ; @fitzsimmons-is-forever ; @dumblani ; @i-padfootblack-things ;

learn to love tags:

@youunravelme ; @cailin-lefantasy ; @thatoneslytherinbeater ; @i-padfootblack-things ; @clockworkherondale ; @clean-and-claire ; @tits-out-for-cevans ; @evverything-plus-anything ; @denzmallows ; @ibxxmc-blog ; @pinknerdpanda ;

#steve rogers #chris evans #captain america #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #captain america x reader #enemies to lovers #slow burn #fake dating #au #marvel #fan fiction

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vorish-musing · 5 years

Text

A Night They Won’t Forget

Here’s another IT Chapter Two Story! Sorry this took me so long, I just wanted to make this perfect for y’all!

Summary: This is the first time Richie has eaten someone, and boy is it a wild ride, with a slight surprise for y’all ;)

Note: This story contains G/t, Soft, somewhat unaware, Non-Fatal vore, and if you don’t like it, please skip this story.

Last note: This takes place before IT Chapter Two, but when they’re all adults.

Warnings: Fearplay, Digestion mention (Doesn’t happen), Cursing, some pain, nothing fatal.

Richie took another drink from his glass of whiskey he was holding, he sat at his desk in his dressing room, trying to compose himself before he got on stage. As he poured another cup for himself, he grabbed some chips from a bowl close by.

“Why now?” he spoke quietly to himself “why couldn’t this be after the show.” he took deep breaths, his stomach twisting in pain. He tried grabbing more chips, but it never worked. It never worked.

He leaned his head down, his forehead on the edge of the desk, he stared at his feet on the ground. He just had to let it pass. Just like every other time this happened. He just hated how much it hurt this time.

Ever since Richie could remember, he had these… cravings. They happened every once and awhile, and they were the worst. No matter what he did, they would never go away. He would eat until he was nauseous, drink until he blacked out, and he would smoke weed until he threw up. He just had to let this pass. That's all he could do.

A knocking at the door brought him out of his headspace, sitting upright like nothing was wrong. A young man in his mid to late twenties opened the door. He had messy brown hair, and eyes that looked terrified. Yep, definitely an intern. He looked frantic opening the door, only to slightly compose himself seeing Richie, who felt bad for the kid.

The man spoke with a soft, nervous tone “uh… you’re on in five Mr. Tozier.” he looked back down at his sheet, crossing something off.

Richie just chuckled “Mr. Tozier? Really?” he spoke sarcastically. The man the intern immediately backed down hearing this, thinking he did something wrong. “Just call me Richie, Kid.”

The intern turned a bright red, smiling sweetly, “sorry…”

“Don’t worry about that kid, you’re boss probably scared you shitless about the ‘talents’ that go on the stage, right?” he gestured to himself as he said talents, clearly making a joke.

The man laughed “yeah” he was about to say another thing but looked at his watch once more “oh shit I have to run, sorry.”

“Again, don’t worry about...it.” he slowed his speaking, the hunger hitting him once more like a punch to the gut. The man was already closing the door, not noticing Richie go down.

That was another thing. When he would look at people, he would get hungry, which freaked him out the most. He didn’t know why. It was like the craving was for them, but that couldn’t be possible, it was impossible for him to go through with it, let alone gross for even thinking about it.

‘Just keep drinking, you’ll get through this’

He couldn’t remember getting on the stage, or the show itself, he just heard people laugh, and knew he was getting through it. His head was in another place though, he was keeping the pain down as much as possible, masking groans as coughs and speaking louder when his stomach would make noise.

“Thank you everyone for coming, I don’t usually get to say that outside of bed, I’m Richie Tozier, goodnight New York!” he walked off the stage as fast as possible, the crowd clapping him off. As he passed the crew someone handed him another glass of Whiskey, which he greedily took and downed in an instant, handing the glass back, cringing as the alcohol burned his throat.

“Richie that was perfect, the crowd loved it!” his manager spoke, “Now I know you’re not feeling well, so I’ll let you get a good rest tonight and see you tomorrow before the next show huh?”

‘Yeah Whatever.” he waved off his manager, making a beeline for the back exit, so nobody could see him, and he could get fresh air. He opened the back doors, his manager calling for him once more before the doors slammed shut.

Richie slumped against the wall, taking deep breaths and trying to compose himself. He held his stomach tightly, it had never been this bad before, why now?! Maybe he needed an ambulance? Maybe it wasn’t just the cravings he was feeling, is this what starvation feels like?!

“Oh shit”

Richie jumped at the new voice, turning his head around to see a man around his age standing there. The man had dark brown curly hair, and eyes that were almost recognizable. Richie definitely recognized the man, but he couldn’t remember who he was… weird.

“Sorry…” the man spoke, “I didn’t know anyone was back here I was just…” the two made eye contact, and the man's eyes widened, “Oh shit… you’re Richie Tozier, if this isn’t weird to say, I loved your show tonight”

Richie smiled through the pain, he would rather not be speaking to someone when he was like this, but he always liked talking to fans. “Thanks man.” he sighed ““Sorry dude, I’d love to talk but I’m not feeling--”

And there was another punch to his stomach, he lurched over for a second, it seemed to hurt more with this man around. His vision became very fuzzy, all he could focus on was this man in front of him, who was clearly saying something that he couldn’t process.

Richie’s stomach growled softly, he cringed as thoughts of eating this man crossed his mind. He backed away, worried that he could accidentally hurt him somehow. His senses Heightened as he kept making eye contact with the man, he swore he could smell him, and he smelled good… not like hygienic or clean....appetizing.

The man came closer with a look of concern, speaking words Richie couldn’t hear. Richie backed up again, trying to keep distance between them.

“You have to get out of here man, I don’t know what's happening to me.” he spoke, his voice filled with fear, he bit his lip trying to hold back his urges. The man gave a confused look to Richie, and Richie spoke again “Dude just get the fuck out of here this isn’t a jo--”

And everything went black.

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

All he wanted to do was have a good time and watch a live comedy show while he was visiting New York. He heard that Richie Tozier was a good comedian, so he came.

But Stanley didn’t know what to make of this situation, he couldn’t tell if Richie was on drugs or if he was just insane, but it was starting to freak him out.

“Dude Just get the fuck out of here this isn’t a jo--” Richie’s eyes dilatated, he stopped talking, was this an overdose?! Before he could get a word out, Richie pounced on him holding onto his shoulders, it didn’t hurt, but it was extremely uncomfortable.

“What the fuck man?!” he tried getting Richie off of him, but the man was holding him down tightly, he definitely did not look as strong as he was. Stan began to feel really dizzy underneath Richie, his head spinning, he shut his eyes, expecting to pass out.

Stan screamed when he opened his eyes.

Richie was still on top of him, but he was much bigger than before, he was like a giant. He frantically looked around, seeing everything else as giant. He had shrunk. He looked back up to Richie, who was staring at him with hungry eyes, it took him a moment to realize Richie was looking at him as something to eat.

Something in him, something he had either repressed or forgotten came screaming out

Run

And he did, he got up from the ground, and began running, what was a few steps to get out of the alley before had become a long run for him. He ran, hoping that he could be fast enough to get away from the comedian.

Unfortunately, he was no match for the giant behind him, who simply picked him up with his thumb and index finger. Stanley yelped as he was hoisted into the and brought up to Richie’s face.

Stan stared into the giants blue eyes, shaking profusely, “Please…” he begged “Put me down, I won’t say this to anyone who would believe me… the famous Richie Tozier tried to…” he couldn’t say the words, he even know if Richie was going to do that, and he didn’t want to give him ideas. He looked for sympathy in the giant's eyes, but there was nothing, he wasn’t even sure Richie was fully aware of what he was doing. He was almost out of options “I-I have money, I’ll give you all I have just plea…”

His words trailed off as he was brought closer to Riches face, most notably, his mouth. His heart drops.

Stanley began struggling in the giant’s grip, “wait please!” He kicked Richie’s fingers, trying to make him let go, but it was no use. Richie opened his mouth bringing Stanley's head and torso inside.

He immediately started yelling, screaming, punching doing anything he could with the part of him inside of the mouth to get outside of it. He didn’t dare move his lower half though, his hips rested on the comedian’s teeth. He didn’t want to think about how this man could literally bite him in half without another thought.

Just when Stan thought it couldn’t get worse, the tongue below him started to move, soaking him and his clothes in saliva almost instantly. He cringed at the strong scent of Whiskey reeked around him.

As the tongue moved the top half of him around, Stan noticed in a really strange way, Richie seemed to be somewhat gentle, the didn’t even feel any pressure on his waist from the teeth. This didn’t change the fact he was in the process of being eaten though.

Stan got to a point where he couldn’t keep his legs still any longer, he began kicking outside of the mouth. He could feel the impact of him kicking something, he hoped maybe Richie’s nose, but that victory soon ended as he felt his legs be restrained, forcing his lower half to stay still.

Suddenly, he felt gravity shift around him, making him slip lower into the mouth, closer to the dark red throat.

He screamed once more, hoping the comedian-turned-cannibal could hear him “Don’t do this!” He felt Richie stop what he was doing for a quick second. Stan hoped he got through to him, everything went quiet.

And then Richie swallowed.

All the anxiety that was slowly leaving came rushing back through Stan’s veins as his hips and thighs entered the mouth, and his head and shoulders slid into the tight throat.

He winced at how tight of a fit this was, could he even fit? He then heard Richie cough, like he was trying to get stan out of his throat. He began to go backwards, his shoulders coming out of the throat. Richie was choking on how big stan was compared to the esophagus. He began to squirm more, trying to get Richie to cough him out.

Unfortunately, this small setback didn’t stop Richie, he swallowed once again, hard.

Stanley was shoved right back into the throat, making him yelp in shock, he was almost sure he was going to get out.

Richie began swallowing faster, the throat and esophagus stretching to fit Stanley. The man struggled as much as he could, but it was so tight he could barely move, he could only manage a few wiggles here and there.

A part of him still couldn’t believe this was real. This had to be fake, a dream, anything! But the other half knew that dreams were never this vivid, he would not be able to feel the muscles pushing him down further. he could never think of this either. This was so...fucked up.

He felt his legs slip between the teeth, and down into the throat, Richie swallowing them greedily. “You… gluttonous bastard!” Stanley cried out as his fate was sealed, there was no escaping now.

A wave of confusion came over Stan as he heard Richie take a deep breath once he was away from the windpipe. Could he not breathe doing this? He thought to himself good, fucker deserves to choke on the people he kills.

Stanley stopped struggling for just a moment, the word ‘kill’ never went through his head before, but it was obvious that would happen. He didn’t think of what was waiting for below him, he didn’t want to think about it. He just hoped it would be as quick and painless as possible.

He then felt the pressure around him release as he slipped into the stomach, the smell of alcohol worse than it was before, it was enough to make his eyes water. The stomach greeted him with a loud growl.

Stan Immediately got up and began kicking, punching, and pushing on the walls of the stomach, he knew that he could hurt the comedian, so even though he was doomed, he was going to give this fucker a bad case of indigestion.

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

Richie’s throat felt twisted and mangled and tasted like stale whiskey, his eyes were crusty and his vision blurry, he blinked until his view became clear. Once his spinning began to slow down to a slow throbbing pain, he realized that the pain in his stomach had subsided and was instead replaced with a feeling of satisfaction.

As he looked down at his body which was originally laying on the ground, but now sitting up, he examined his surroundings but quickly became distracted when he noticed his stomach, although not in perfect shape before, had seemed to have gained an extra inch or two to it.

He then felt a strain in his throat, he held his neck, it felt like it had been stretched wider than it should’ve been.

He was trying to remember what had happened, he was outside… a fan of his came around and he blacked out. Maybe the guy just freaked and left? But why was he in this much pain? As that thought crossed his mind, he felt something hit his kidney, hard.

He was knocked right onto his knees, holding his stomach, his whole abdomen hurt, he looked up expecting someone there, but nothing. It took him a few moments to realize the kick came from inside

He felt nauseous, shit, did I eat a rat? What the fuck?! He knew that idea had crossed his mind a while back, but he hoped he would never do that. Couldn’t he get a disease from that? Maybe the bubonic plague?

“fuck me” he held his stomach down, he noticed that the thing stopped moving once he put his hands on his stomach, maybe it was digesting?

“Oh fuck don’t think about that shit” he held his stomach tighter “its going to be fine, if you throw up maybe it’ll not be dead.” He carefully let go of the organ, just in time to see whatever was in his stomach push, making a small bump. “What the fuck...”

“Someone help me! Oh fuck...Help!” Richie Froze, turning his head around, hearing a very faint and muffled voice, he first thought he was hearing things, until another hit in his gut alerted him that the voice wasn’t out there with him.

It was in him.

“oH GOD WHAT THE FUCK?!” he yelled loudly, covering his mouth so other people wouldn’t hear him and show up.

Did he actually eat someone? That couldn’t be possible! But… he heard something in his stomach…and his throat did feel quite stretched out. carefully, he pulled his shirt up.

Maybe it was because he watched too many horror films, but he had expected to see the outline of a person protruding out of his skin. When he saw just smooth skin, and his stomach pushing out a slight bit, it made him feel a little more relieved.

Richie took a deep breath, and brought a shaky hand to his belly, and carefully pressed a finger down on his skin.��

Instantly the thing in his stomach began to move wildly, he jumped, pulling his hand away “fuck that fuck that fuck that” he spoke, leaving the alleyway and making his way to his car.

He heard muffled yelling as he got into his car, he paused. “H-hello?” if he was going crazy, at least he was alone, and nobody could hear him.

He winced as the man inside began moving again, this time kicking him harder and harder with every kick.

“You fucking bastard! People will know I’m gone! I have a wife!”

Richie froze, this was not a dream. This was real, he had eaten someone, and if he wasn’t mistaken, it was the fan who he had met only a half hour ago. Richie took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was shaking badly. How could he let this happen? Why now?

He cringed feeling the man writhe in his stomach “can you stop fucking moving for one fucking second?!” he yelled, slamming his hands on the steering wheel. “I didn’t want to fucking do this y’know?! I didn’t want to kill anyone!”

Richie wanted to cry, but he held it back, even though he was by himself, he couldn’t seem weak. Even in this state.

Stanley went quiet as he was thrown about in the stomach, the man’s screaming voice all around him, he covered his ears. He could hear the man's heartbeat going a mile a minute. “You didn’t want to kill anyone?! YOU ARE A CANNIBAL!” he kicked once more, this time in the pancreas.

“No, I’m not!” Richie yelled “I didn’t even know I could actually DO this!” Richie took a deep breath, he needed a drink to calm him down, he had to get home “What’s… what’s your name? Are you hurt?” They seemed like silly questions, but nothing sillier than what was going on.

“You want to know my name? Really? Do you talk to your victims like this all the time? Or am I just lucky?!” the other question sunk into him though, he’d been in there for a while, and the digestion process should have kicked in by now, but he felt no pain, not even a little tingle, it just seemed like he was sitting in saliva and alcohol. “I… I’m not dead” he spoke at a normal tone. More shocked than angry now “how is this possible”

“I’d tell ya if I knew the answer man.” Richie grabbed his keys, turning on the ignition. “tell me if you feel anything, I’ll try and get you out as soon as I can. I… I’m fucking sorry”

“You really don’t know what you did…” silence on the other end, he was right “Stanley. If you want to know.”

Stanley…. It sounded so fucking familiar, but then again there were probably a million people named Stanley. “We’ve never met before this right?”

“Not unless you’ve been to Atlanta and stalked me”

Both were silent on the ride to Richie’s house, both stunned into silence at the events going on. Richie could feel the man moving around in his gut, and in a dark way, it felt...okay? Sure, he could feel the man shaking profusely, but something in him really liked the feeling of being full, having someone in his stomach felt really good.

He can’t make a habit out of this.

Richie made an abrupt stop as he parked in his parking spot, he felt the man tumble forward, he turned a bit red “Sorry”

“That's the last thing you should be sorry about tonight”

Richie made his way up to his apartment, shutting the door and locking it, he was thankful he didn’t have a significant other or any kids, so he could relax and figure out what the fuck happened without anyone else knowing.

“I’m...gonna try throwing up. Hopefully this works. If not, we’ll try something else.”

It didn’t work, nothing did. Stanley tried to climb up Richie’s throat, but it was too painful for either of them, Richie tried pushing on his stomach to get stan out by force, hurt like hell and didn’t work either.

Richie dropped the floor in his kitchen “maybe if I get really fucking drunk--”

“You are not fucking drinking with me in here”

“What else are we supposed to do man?!” Richie poked the bulge in his stomach, “We’ve been at this for an hour, I don’t even think I have a gag reflex anymore”

An hour. Stanley seemed to lose track of time, and he was shocked to hear that he’d been in there for an hour.

“Y’know, you’re probably gonna be fine.” Richie sighed “I mean it's been a really long time, and you’re not even a little dead.”

Stans eyes narrowed, “doesn’t mean I want to be in here!” he pushed on the wall, it tensing up in pain. It was gross, but there were worse things that could happen.

“That's not what I’m saying dude” Richie winced, rubbing his stomach carefully, it was very tender from all the beatings it had taken throughout the night. “All I’m saying is that we don’t have to destroy my body, we don’t have a time limit, so we can just chill for a bit.”

Stan could hear the pain in Richie’s voice, but he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t feel bad for the guy who shrunk and ate him, that's ridiculous. He rolled his eyes, there was no way he could chill inside a stomach. “Fine”

Richie sat in silence on the floor by his couch, trying to give his throat and belly a break from all the abuse. Stan probably didn’t realize how hard this was on Richie physically. It hurt like hell, and he was pretty much responsible for this person to live or die.

God, this was to fucked up! He ATE somebody! And he liked it! He could still taste stan on his lips, a faint taste, but it was clearly there. it was unlike anything he had ever tasted, he couldn’t describe it, all he knew was that it tasted good. Even though it was painful, he actually liked when Stanley moved around.

It was quiet, calm, and it even felt like Stanley was trying to relax as well. And in that moment, a lightbulb clicked on in his head.

He began to focus on Stanley’s form, every movement, every breath, everything. Richie took his hand, carefully pressed on his stomach, not where stan was, but just underneath him, almost instantaneously, Stan started squirming.

“What is that?!” he was scared that they were wrong, that the digestion process was about to begin.

“Relax, I’m doing something” Richie spoke, silencing Stan, He couldn’t explain, he was afraid that if he did, it would be harder to do.

Richie took a deep breath, preparing himself, then winced as stan entered the Esophagus once again, stretching it out a little too far for Richie’s comfort. He tried slowing down the process to minimize the pain, but it didn’t help.

Stan gasped as he was squished into the esophagus, barely able to move, he was shocked that he even got out of the stomach this quickly. Out of instinct, he tensed up and began shaking. Just then, he stopped moving, he heard Richie's heart speed up and the man begins to breathe heavily, like he was scared.

“What's wrong?” Stan called out, worried that he’d be muffled more than before.

“R...Relax.” Richie’s voice was strained, he sounded like he was in a ridiculous amount of pain. It made Stan realize what he was doing. Stan regulated his breathing, clenched his jaw and relaxed his body, hoping for Richie to continue.

Stan felt his body being pulled up once again, it was a much different experience this time, last time it was terrifying, almost painful and confusing. This time it was almost a relief to be in the esophagus strangely enough.

When Stan passed the lungs, Richie froze, realizing he couldn’t breathe, Stan was blocking his airflow, he cringed, pushing the man up faster, putting himself in excruciating pain, trying to breathe again.

Finally, Stan’s head and shoulders entered the mouth, Richie opened his mouth putting two fingers in to grab him, it took a few seconds but Stan finally exited the throat, Richie coughing loudly and dropping Stan on the couch beside him, taking deep breaths.

Stan covered his eyes at the brightness in the room, Stanley was covered in saliva, his hair sticking up in places and shaking at the change of temperature as well. He uncovered his eyes to see Richie. there were tear stains on his face, he looked extremely exhausted and he was holding his throat.

Richie, held his hand up as if to say ‘hold on’, before getting up and stumbling to the other room. Stanley didn’t move a muscle as he waited for Richie to come back.

Stan got a good look at his surroundings, everything was so big compared to him, he seemed so… vulnerable. He hoped that Richie didn’t have any pets.

Stanley was snapped out of his thoughts as Richie re-entered the room with a huge glass of water, drinking very quickly, most likely trying to ease the pain.

Stan watched as he drank, it sent a shiver down his spine seeing the man's Adam’s apple bob up and down with every gulp. It made him realize how easy it was for Richie to eat him again if he wanted.

Richie took a break from drinking, and looked down at Stanley, who was shaking like a leaf. He turned a bit red, placing the glass down and sitting on the floor, trying to become eye level with the shrunken man. Instinctively, Stan moved back.

Richie adjusted his glasses, “sorry” his voice was hoarse, it sorts of hurt to speak, but nothing really stopped Richie from speaking when he wanted to.

Stanley shook his head, communicating that it was okay.

God it was so awkward now, what do you say to someone who you just ate and coughed up? as Richie was thinking, Stan spoke first.

“How do I get back to my regular size?” that thought never occurred to Richie until this moment. He felt so stupid, of course this man couldn’t spend the rest of his life as a Ken Doll. Stanley saw the look on Richie's face, “you don’t know how to do that either…” he sounded disappointed.

“The last thing I remember before waking up was you coming closer to me.” Richie shrugged apologetically “Do you remember how you shrunk?”

Stanley thought for a moment then his eyes lit up, the moment flooding back into his head. “You jumped on me, and you were grabbing onto my shoulders tightly. Then I felt dizzy, then I was like this.”

Richie nodded, slowly bringing a hand closer to Stanley, this time the man didn’t move away, and Richie placed his hand on him. He scrunched his face up, closing his eyes to concentrate, ‘regrow regrow regrow’ he thought in his head, hoping that it would work.

He opened one of his eyes, Stanley staring at him with an unamused gaze. He was still tiny. “You look ridiculous” he didn’t say it in a mean way, it sounded very lighthearted, and Richie knew the face he was making was probably not the best looking.

“Don’t make me eat you again” he retorted, stan just rolled his eyes, they both knew Richie was in no state to even try, with his throat in pain and how much the act fucked him up mentally.

Richie then tried again, this time taking a deep breath, and letting go of any frustration. He closed his eyes, and didn’t think of anything, he left his mind blank.

Stanley became very dizzy, which was a good sign since that is what had happened before, he began to grow, slowly, but it was still progress. Richie opened his eyes to see Stanley growing back up to size, and he was amazed. He could actually do that! He could make people grow and shrink!

When Stan was back to his normal height (Richie Hoped) the man stood a slight bit smaller than Richie, but not as small as before.

“You can use my shower if you want to get all of...” he gestured to stands saliva coated body “that… off of you”

In any other situation, Stan would be embarrassed, but after everything, all he wanted to do was get cleaned up and leave. He just nodded silently.

Richie to the Hallway, “First door on the right, towels are in the cupboard beside it.”

Stan nodded once more, turning and walking to the washroom. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to get super fucking drunk.”

Stanley laughed to himself as he shut the door, quickly getting into the shower. The water was warm, it reminded him so much of Richie’s stomach, but not the scary parts.

Now that he was thinking about it, being in there wasn’t terrible, definitely not a vacation spot, but not as horrifyingly traumatic as he thought it would be.

Stan shook his head, what was he thinking?! He could have died! But... he didn't. He was probably the only person to be eaten and survive. That had to be somewhat interesting to anyone.

He laughed out loud at his thoughts, his mind was so twisted around from what happened, he couldn’t tell what was right or wrong anymore.

Stanley shut the shower off, hopping out quickly. He noticed a small pile of clothes on the sink, with a sticky note right beside them.

He made his way to the sink, picking up the note. The writing looked like a ten-year-old wrote it, or maybe a drunk adult. It was still legible thankfully

‘Thought you’d need these, unless you want to walk around in slimy pants :) -Richie’

Stan's face flushed a bright red. Richie came into the bathroom while he was showering! He wanted to be angry, to go out and yell at the man for his idiocy, but he didn’t have the strength to anymore. And Richie was doing a nice thing by giving him clothes, and it was clear that Richie didn’t want to watch him shower, if he did, he'd probably be in there now.

Stan came out of the bathroom, wearing Richie’s clothes, his folded neatly as possible in his hands.

Richie was on the couch with a bottle of vodka and a few shot glasses. The man was in the middle of a shot as he noticed Stan out of the corner of his eye. He put the glass down, smiling as he held a different shot glass up for him.

Stan shrugged, he never really liked to drink, but today was an acceptation, he felt like he needed it. He walked down to Richie, sitting beside him, and taking the shot glass out of his hand.

Richie grabbed another shot, smiling at Stan, “Cheers” he spoke, taking the shot without reacting to the strong alcohol.

Stan followed suit, reacting to it the complete opposite, making a face as it burned his throat Richie laughed, Stan glared jokingly.

“God what the fuck was this night” Richie spoke, the smell of alcohol on his breath strong. “Can we never speak of this again? I’d rather not be labeled as a monster.”

“Who would believe me, Hey everyone! I was eaten by the famous Richie Tozier! Get your pitchforks and torches!” he called out, making Richie roll his eyes

“Y’know, I like you man. Taste pretty good too” Richie covered his mouth, clearly not wanting to say that out loud, “fuck” he spoke through his hand. “I’m too fucking drunk”

Stanley stared at Richie, somehow not freaked out by the comment “So… this the first time you’ve done this, Right” he was trying to change the subject to spare the other man from further embarrassment.

Richie nodded, “I’ve… always had cravings for it, I guess this is what happens when I don’t… fulfill it?” he shrugged, not really knowing how to explain it “I’m sorry it had to be you.”

Stanley shrugged, he couldn't say it was okay, but he wasn’t mad anymore. “Lets just...go our separate ways, not talk about it?”

Richie nodded, “do you want me to give you a ride to the venue again? Its not far from here.”

“No, I took the subway. Is there a station near?”

Richie gave him the directions, there was one station only a few minutes away.

“Do you want the clothes back? I can send them to you”

“Nah, keep them, something to remember me by”

“I don’t think I’ll forget this any time soon.” Stanley laughed softly, getting up from the couch. Richie followed, stumbling a bit. They both walked to the door in silence. Richie opened it, but before Stan could leave, he spoke

“What's your name? Like...Full name.”

Stanley looked back in a bit of confusion, why did he need to know? “Stanley Uris”

Richie Held his hand out “Goodbye Stanley Uris, hope I’ll get to see you again” he didn’t think he would, but it was a nice thought.

Stanley shook the other man's hand, smiling “Goodbye Richie Tozier.”

Stanley left, Richie closed the door, and they went their separate ways.

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

Around a year later, he was just finished a show at the same venue, he had just finished, and was doing a slight meet and greet.

When the crowd was basically gone, a woman came up to him, “Oh my god! You were amazing!” she spoke with the most cheerful voice he had ever heard. It was one that brought a smile to your face.

He smiled “thank you, I know” he winked jokingly.

She giggled sweetly “my husband told me that you changed his life, and I can see what he meant, you’re really great!” she turned around “honey come meet him!”

Stanley came around the corner, and Richie froze, “you” he said quietly to himself, making sure nobody could hear him. Stan was even wearing the clothes he gave him.

Stanley smiled “Its nice to meet you Mr. Tozier”

Without warning, he pulled Stan in for a hug. The man first yelped in surprise, then embraced it.

His wife smiled “Hon?” she asked Stan “I’m going to go to the washroom, I’ll be back” and she left without another word.

When the two let go of each other, Stan noticed Richie was smiling an insane amount. “What happened to going separate ways?

“I wanted to see you again, see if you’re still a cannibal” he spoke quietly, making sure nobody eavesdropping could hear.

“Why? Come back for more?” the two laughed, it all seemed funny now, since then Richie had eaten a few people to make sure he wouldn’t go insane again. Only people who were drunk or wouldn’t remember when the evening was over.

“I just wanted to see you, I’m glad your doing good.” Stan spoke, his voice sincere and friendly “I should go meet back with my wife.”

“Yeah… glad to see you’re still around though” Richie spoke as Stanley left.

“You too”

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

And there we go! I hope you guys enjoyed reading this, I enjoyed writing this!

#soft vore #safe vore #non fatal vore #fearplay #g/t vore #digestion mention #extreme cuddling #unaware vore #male vore #Williams Writing

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