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prxcax · 10 years

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i don't think, i know ; lu & il — drabble;

Tell Me: I’ll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours [be it a love confession, a secret, feel free to specify.] — Specified; Love confession

He's asked Ilya to meet him up at a new place today. Somewhere they haven't been before, not together at least. He doesn't really know where the vampire has been and where he hasn't. But he decided not to care, because he knows it'll only bother him in the end. Just like everything else he doesn't know properly. It's beyond his capacity of understanding how things turned out like this, why he decided to drag the older out like this, for the mere sake of telling him something Luka hasn't told a single person before in his life. Not like this at least. If anything, they have always made the first move and he had just... gone along with it. To see if there will be a little spark or not and in the end he has left then heartbroken with their hopes ruined. It scares him a little now when he thinks of it, because he doesn't want to end up like that. He really doesn't.

It's enough with the already existing ache that taints every corner of his soul.

If he even has one....

He doubts it sometimes. Just like he doubts his own existence and its relevance.

A shake of his head and he casts a glance at his wristwatch — it gleams so prettily in the dim light— trying to swallow the lump ins his throat but failing over and over. His fingers drum against denim-clad thighs, sneakers tap against asphalt and he looks restless when the only emotion that actually clouds his every sense is nervousness. Because it doesn't matter how much confidence he has. There are so many ways in which this little moment can backfire, turn into a complete disaster and he's quite sure it'd break him. At least a little. He can take a lot of physical pain, but he's never been good with the emotional parts. Hence why he barely ever lets himself feel anything for anyone. Unless he's certain they'll stay. Unless he knows they won't harm him.

Consumed for several minutes, he doesn't really realize he's not alone anymore until Ilya clears his throat and Luka flinches. " Sorry. " He mumbles, dumbfounded as his shoulders slump and he pushes off the wall he's leaned against. " Just thinking too much, " He then adds before flashing a small reassuring smile. He hasn't planned anything for this, he just feels constricted indoors, so he starts to walk, pace quite slow. He thinks things true, how to formulate himself, what words to use, how to pronounce them properly because he doesn't want to stutter. All of this is so fucking embarrassing and he's sure the vampire can hear how his heart is racing in his chest. Like it always does whenever he's near.

Luka fucking hates it.

Because it makes things more obvious than he wants them to be.

But he can't really change it so he just lets it be, letting the silence continue as he just.. walks. He doesn't really know where he's going, or why there are no questions but he's too busy for assumptions. Or even thinking. So when his steps automatically steer them towards the, quite small, park he usually visits when he needs to be alone, he just shrugs lazily as his lips part to let a single sigh escape from its prison. In the end he stops walking and he finds it funny how the older male takes a few more steps before he stops as well, as if he didn't notice. It makes him smile and he lowers his head to hide it. " Sorry for dragging you out like this and then being quiet. " He shakes his head a bit, looking up at the elder.

" But Ilya, I really have something I need to tell you. "

And then comes hesitation and he falls into silence, eyes closing and hands shoved into his pockets. He struggles to recollect himself but it's difficult. Why does he have to be so scatterbrained sometimes?

" I think I'm... I think I'm in love with you. "

I don't think, I know I am. I fucking know.

Cursing at himself like he always does, he's terrified to actually look up, and he keeps his head hanging, stopping himself from stepping backwards to flee.

#tarxt #drabble;

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prxcax · 10 years

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.:.

#i am screaming at freaked out luka #this plot is genius #fucking dies in the distance #he's all jittery--

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prxcax · 10 years

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Pulling the bottle of vodka out of the bag, she sets it down just outside the front door to his apartment. She soon crouches down and reaches into the pockets of her trench coat, tugging a handwritten note and a scarlet ribbon out before tying the sheet of paper to the glass bottle into a nice bow. After tidying up the bow, she lifts her gaze up to the door and rises, pursing her lips before reaching a hand out and rapping her knuckles against the wood once, twice, three times. Within a few seconds, she’s already out of sight.

Drinks on me. You need it more than I do.

Take care of yourself, Luka.

The note is signed off with a ‘-IX’ in red ink.

He’s always wary when his door is knocked upon and this is no exception. Because he hasn’t invited anyone over and there are only three people in the city who know his address. He doesn’t want to see either of them right now and he practically groans as he gets himself to rise, leave the comfort of his couch behind to drag his feet over hardwood flooring. He stops by the door for a moment, looks himself over in the hallway mirror and wearing a scold as he undoes the lock and pushes the piece of wood and metal open. To his surprise, he’s faced with no one, emptiness and silence lingering outside, well aside from the cling of glass when his door hits the bottle placed outside of it. It has him surprised and he furrows his brows when he crouches to pick it up. At first, he thinks this is some stupid joke, a game one of his friends decided to play and they’re probably still there somewhere, waiting for him to spot them, but when he reads the note attached to the bottle — after undoing the red ribbon— his eyes grow wide. He tenses and he almost drops the bottle to the floor. Fucking…? He looks around, eyes trained on even the smallest of details. This fucks up his mind greatly, because he doesn’t recognize the handwriting, nor what the note is signed with and it’s kinda spooky. Hell, it’s sending chills down his spine. For the past weeks, he’s been feeling as if he’s watched whenever he does something, as if he’s being followed and if anything, this only confirms it.

He tries to stay calm as he backs into his apartment again, shutting the door and locking it tight, double checking before he moves back into the living room. He sets the bottle of vodka down on the coffee table and he studies it. The seal is unbroken and it’s his favorite brand. This person obviously knows him well, better than many and it has his brows furrowing yet again. He doesn’t stay in the room for long, sneaking into his bedroom — because yes, he is a bit scared— to get his gun from the drawer in his bedside table and he puts it beside the bottle. Better to be prepared than to be surprised. He tells himself, once again inspecting his little gift, lips pressing into a thin line. Then he smirks, because he sees no harm in drinking. Because if this person would have meant him harm, wouldn’t they have tried to get him when he opened the door? Maybe this is their way of trying to catch his attention. So he opens the bottle, takes a whiff of the alcohol that lingers within it and he sighs contently as he brings it to his lips, as he takes the first sip, and not a small one. Warmth spreads through his chest and it feels just right. He leans back against the sofa cushions, taking another sip before he puts the bottle down.

” Thank you for the gift, stranger. ”

He hums a bit, even though there’s nobody there to hear him.

” But you won’t be a stranger for much longer. i’ll find you. ”

He hiccups.

” Bet on it. “

#stilettoxjooyeon #rep;mini #submission #gift #{ HAHAH he's freaking out }

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prxcax · 10 years

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I need booze, I have sorrows to fucking drown.

#lu.:.spe #provide me with company and it might actually get nice #or not

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prxcax · 10 years

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coincidences ; lu & ilh

— Past nightfall is aways the time when he steps outside his own door. August has approached and summer is coming towards it end, leaving the night air a bit more brisk than it has been for the past couple of weeks. But it doesn't really stop him, why would it? He has work today, money to earn and clients to find. His territory has been expanded and he has new ground to cover. So he's quite sure he won't be home until after sunrise or so. Which would be in approximately five hours perhaps? At least it isn't as straining as it sounds, if things work as they should; if he gets by without trouble. He never knows who he'll bump into and he still has more than a few people on his list that needs to be taught a lesson. He doesn't accept late payments, never has and never will. Hell no. It's his money and his work on the line if they don't pay up. Therefore, he never leaves his apartment without his Glock 18 tucked safely in its holster by his hip, accompanied by the small blade hidden inside his boot, just by his ankle. Safety precautions, because he wants to be able to protect himself should his business get risky.

So he wanders slowly, the soles of his shoes clappering against concrete and asphalt, resounding between tiled walls. He's used to the loneliness and the darkness of empty backstreets, of alleys he knows like the back of his own hand and it doesn't disturb him in the least. He keeps his right hand in his pocket, the left one holding the cigarette he occasionally brings to parted lips. Nicotine keeps the longing for the heavier stuff sated for a while, as least for as long as he's occupied during his business hours and he can grant himself a fix later if work goes well. So it's a mere substitute for what he really wants, but it's just as unhealthy and he knows it. But why should he fucking care? There's not exactly someone who's told him to stop and no one who cares wether he does or not. It's his business and he ain't going to rehab for something he can deal with. Fuck no. The thought makes him scowl and he snorts at it, dropping his cigarette-butt to the ground and stepping on it before he continues his nightly wanders, lighting a new one within the next six minutes.

It's one of those nights when it's fairly empty, explainable by the fact that it's just a normal Tuesday and there's barely any business to be done at the beginning of the week. Only the real junkies come out during these days, those who can't go for twelve hours without getting something. He pities them, but then again he isn't so very different himself. He just has... other methods and goes to other measures for what he really wants. So he's surprised when he, in his dazed state of overthinking, bumps into someone else and he groans silently. Because hell, it's annoying to have to apologize and he contemplates it for a moment; considers just walking away but he doesn't. Supposedly that will be one of his greatest mistakes. " Sorry. " He mutters, stopping to glance at the other, clicking his tongue a little. " Didn't see you coming. "

#bleedingxsecrets #para;coi #mem;lu&ilh #{ i got it done yey~]

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prxcax · 10 years

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F is for F:ie

#procax;

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prxcax · 10 years

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#procax;

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prxcax · 10 years

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It's comforting, how the other doesn't laugh at him. How he just.. listens and understands and doesn't make remarks that can possibly be hurtful. Any other person would and supposedly, it's one of the reasons to why Luka likes Baekhyun so much. Even when things turn weird like this, he's still there and the older male is ever so grateful for it, honestly. " I bet you don't... but oh well." He purses his lips for a moment before he moves to rest his head on the younger's shoulder. " I think I like him. I mean I know I do. But to him I'm.. more of a possession than an actual person... I think. Or so I feel. And... I don't know what to do. "

[ ` From the Skies to the Ground (Hold Your Breath). ]

He boycotted what he expected of Sanha to say for himself, but he never really actually thought that they’d ever actually spill over to a speaking extent. For seven years, they’ve known one another, and he’s sure that Sanha’s never been like this before. Baekhyun’s eyes turn full attention to his friend, and he pursed his lips in concentration. There’s a little bit of amusement that came with how Sanha looked so frustrated, but Baekhyun refused to actually let it show. The younger male nodded lightly, “Don’t worry, it doesn’t sound dumb… you know I have stupider problems. I’ll wait for that explanation.”

#acebaek #mini;ftstg(hyb)#mem;l&ba #Protexerase

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prxcax · 10 years

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It's easy to let his walls cave when he's around Baekhyun and it's a bit surprising. Bu he blames it on the fact that they have known each other for so long. He expects the reacting to be strange, but it' still not as bad as it could have been and he's just a tiny bit relieved. " Yeah.... my problem is a person. " He mumbles with a defeated sigh and he rubs at his own forehead gently, eyes shut and of course he looks a little bit annoyed as he scowls. This problem is annoyingly embarrassing and he doesn't really know how to go about it; how to explain it properly. " It sounds dumb I know.. but give me a moment and I'll explain. Or well try to."

[ ` From the Skies to the Ground (Hold Your Breath). ]

It settled something in the back of Baekhyun’s mind when Sanha doesn’t push him away when he pulled him into a hug, but the loose embrace doesn’t leave the other man’s figure. It’s not common for it to be like this, but Baekhyun is far from complaining. The ebony haired male scrunched up his nose slightly at the remark of always being worried about, because it’s a belated realization that Sanha always worried about him, and he’s never shown how much he really did care. It comes as a rush to him when Sanha expressed what was actually wrong. Baekhyun blinked a couple times before tilting his head, scrutinizing his friend for a brief moment. “… your problem is a person—?” he repeated. It takes a long time to register. Wait, hold it— what?

#acebaek #mini;ftstg(hyb)#mem;lu&ba

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prxcax · 10 years

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don't tease me ; lu & il — drabble; [NSFW]

» : a future event my character would like to happen with them + yours [a daydream]

A sigh passes his lips when Ilya pulls back; when he's released and the high from the bite starts to slowly diminish. Fall into oblivion. It does leave him quite drained and he falls back against the sofa cushions without a single word. He doesn't even look at Ilya this time, rather avoiding it for once. It's strange, the sensation lingering in his veins isn't as thrilling anymore. Maybe it is because things are always the same like this. At least lately. So he sighs, covers his eyes with his hand and he can feel the weight of soft cushions shift as the vampire rises to go do... whatever he has to do. Luka is too lazy to even ask.

If he could only turn back around....

Luka mused to himself, silently.

A brief moment of silent breathing is all that passes, before Ilya actually does turn around and he observes Luka with his silvery hues. The latter swallows and he blinks a few times. It's surprising, that little gleam in his eyes that the mortal recognizes. But he has rarely seen it when they're like this, when distanced and it has him wondering. At least for a moment, but not very long. For the vampire isn't slow with his approach and Luka knows better than to be unresponsive. He doesn't want to be unresponsive. Because there's little he can crave in the same manner he craves Ilya's touch.

He's still sitting ( half lying to be honest ) but the closer Ilya gets, the more he straightens himself and he stands up a moment later. Hands grasp for his hips and he's tugged closer, thudding against the vampire's chest and he gasps, unprepared for the spreading sensations of warmth through his entire body. But he wants it, he wants it to badly and judged by the way the elder smirks at him, he knows. There's no need for real gentleness like this, Luka can take a lot more than he looks capable of, something they've both grown to learn. He has pushed his own limits a lot lately and perhaps that's the reason to why he complies so diligently, when Ilya guides him to straddle his thighs. He hasn't really come down from the high of the bite yet and the lingering haze in his mind, the lingering envelopment of bliss, it only serves him right in this situation and when he's properly placed, he grins almost impishly.

The way Ilya's fingers trail over his neck and his collarbones lines his skin with goosebumps and when his chin is grasped, more than a little roughly, he sighs contently into the kiss he's graced with. The way teeth drags over the sensitive skin, how they tease him enough to make his fingers splay over broad shoulders as hands squeeze his hips tightly enough to leave bruises. It makes his senses spark with fire and he presses closer in a silent demand for more. He doesn't know wether he's imagining it or not, but he thinks he can hear Ilya chuckle for that sliver of a second when he pulls back. Luka is panting, his eyelids fluttering open as their features linger only millimeters away from one another's and there's a moment of silent, desirable tension. When their gazes meet and there's no doubt that their need for this is equal and in all honesty, the younger of the two is relieved. He's kept away from others, like he has been told to and he's done so without questioning. He's kept himself away from what he considers regular indulgences and it's been a bit of s strain.

Open-mouthed kisses along his neck has him moaning and he tips his head to the side to allow the vampire more room, lips brushing past the recent puncture wounds and he shudders ever so lightly. It's a good reminder, and his fingers curl into Ilya's hair, tugging gently at it and earning him a muffled grunt. His heart is racing and his arousal isn't exactly discrete, a slight roll of slim hips and he knows he's not alone; he's not the only one on the verge of aching. So he tends to it, pulls back with another little grin upon his lips. He slips off of the vampire's lap, pops the button of his jeans open and tugging the zipper down with ease. He parts the fabric without trouble, without hesitation and he tugs at it gently, to bring it down along Ilya's thighs and he licks his lips at the sight of his protruding bulge.

To say he's eager would almost be an understatement and when he grips the vampire's thighs to keep himself in place, when he crawls a bit closer, he's constantly smirking. Because this will be a first. For the two of them at least and in all honesty, it's not like Luka hasn't imagined doing this. He mouths his way along the outline of the elder's cock, licks along the fabric as he keeps his eyes by the other's features and he can feel his thighs tensing from time to time, see how his expression changes and Luka loves every bit of it, basks in the way he makes the elder react. It's as pleasing as anything, really. He moves up, he caresses along the inside of Ilya's thighs and he tugs at the hem of his underwear with his teeth, bringing them further and further down, tantalizingly slow with his motions as he bares the male's length, centimeter by centimeter. Luka is pleased with the sight, he revels in it like he has done before and as soon as the vampire's underwear reaches his thighs, the mortal uses his hands to tug them down the rest of the way. Delay is unacceptable to him and the air almost vibrates around him as he moves back up, trailing a few wet kisses down the elder's abdomen. His muscles contract at the touch of damp warmth, and Luka dares himself to perform a light nip, chuckling as he pulls back for a moment; a few simple seconds.

He watches Ilya breathe, watches his lips remain parted and the sight is beautifully mesmerizing, better than imagined. Usually, Luka is on the receiving end, Ilya will be his first exception to this little established rule. His breath ghosts over sensitive skin, he grins, eyes glinting with playfulness before he lets his tongue trail up along the elder's length properly and dear god... it feels good already. His tongue presses flat against the underside of the vampire's cock and he uses his right hand for support while the left one squeezes around the base. He trails his tongue up towards the head, he dips the pink muscle into Ilya's slit and he enjoys his taste. He lets his damp muscle circle around the crown for a few seconds before his lips part, only to wrap around the proudly standing erection before him. The vampire groans and Luka takes a lot of pride in making him feel something, even if it isn't much.

The bobbing of his head stars out slow, teasing of course, only to pick up pace a little bit more as he goes on, encouraged by the way the older male's fingers curl into his hair. How his hips rocks just slightly up against Luka's features. It brings him to grasp for lean hips, to push Ilya down even though he knows he isn't really the dominant one in this relationship. But he can't deny that the little sense of control he has like this turns him on; reminds him of his own neglected length tucked away beneath layers of denim and wool. But he ignores it, because it isn't time yet and he'll wait for as long as it takes. He takes the elder in further, he hollows his cheeks and he sucks properly, swallowing around him before he moans, another tactic to tease and he earns himself another sweet sound from Ilya's lips.

He would have been naïve if he thought this would go on forever, if the vampire would be patient with him like this. Of course he isn't. The next time Luka pulls back, Ilya uses his little moment of advantage to move, to pin Luka down against the soft sofa cushions and hover above him with an almost mischievous smirk decorating addictive lips, and all the younger can do is grin in return. His hands smooth over the taller male's shoulders, over the fabric that still lingers and he's itching to get it off, just as much as Ilya seems to itch to get Luka's clothes off as well. It's memorable, the way the vampire's eyes trail down along his body and how his fingers are working his pants open without a single second of delay. He's ridded of every single piece of clothing in less than three minutes and the last piece of fabric falls of Ilya's shoulders accordingly. Fuck. He's deliciously beautiful and it never fails to keep Luka astonished for several seconds. His body is perfection, flawless and so admirable. Luka's own is scarred in several places and sometimes it does leave him feeling a bit insecure around the elder. Not much though, and especially not when the only thing he can think of is how every touch the vampire graces him with feels so fucking good.

There's barely any time for him to react before hands skim down his bared skin, before his breathing hitches as Ilya spreads his legs. The mortal is panting, body squirming in anticipation and when the vampire holds his fingers out for him, he does get the hint quicker than he ever has before. He sucks the digits into his mouth, he trails his tongue over each one of them, coating them in saliva until Ilya retracts them. Luka stills, lets the vampire handle his body in whatever way he wants and when the first digit is pushed pas his ring of muscle, he bites back a moan. The second makes his back arch prettily and the third has him quivering as the elder works him open without hesitation. Luka whines when he pulls his fingers out, his chest rising and falling quickly as he gasps for air, as his eyes linger by the elder as he props himself up on his elbows.

He waits and he anticipates and his skin rises in goosebumps when the vampire lines himself, when he prepares. His moan is choked when Ilya pushes inside, because it isn't slow and the stretch burns just a bit; pains him enough to squirm but fuck... he loves it. And he loves the way the elder doesn't wait for him to adjust, doesn't wait for any sort of consent before he begins to move. The pace isn't slow, it isn't gentle. It's rough and quick and it sends waves of pleasuring warmth through his entire system, makes him moan over and over as he seeks purchase upon a pale back. his nails dig into skin, body rocking in pace with every performed thrust and it's in these moments he knows. Luka knows he belongs entirely to Ilya and he probably always will. He moans his name over and over and he appreciates every little sound the vampire makes, treasures them as well as he can. His mind is a complete mess, sweat clinging to his brow and his swollen lips remaining parted as he scrunches his eyes shut. He feels as if he's falling apart, as if he's splitting in half and as Ilya pushes his hips down, gripping on spots where he's already sore, he can't help his own whimpering. He's close, so close...

" Luka? "

He flinches, eyes wide open as he tries to locate the sound of Ilya's voice. He doesn't know where it's coming from and it's distressing. Then he remembers his little daydreaming and his cheeks grow red in less than a second. It's not the only part of him that has been affected, of course not and he rolls over to rest on his stomach instead, desperate to hide himself. Because he's embarrassed and it's fucking dumb. So he doesn't respond and soon enough, the vampire emerges from the kitchen with a quirked brow. " How many times have I told you to answer when I call your name? " The elder questions and he shoots the younger a look that speaks of inquiry, and perhaps a bit of disappointment. " Sorry. " Luka then mutters and buries his face in one of the pillows, sighing.

Why can't anything ever be true?

#tarxt #drabble #mem;lu&il #{ there u go. 2096 words of crappy writing. crawls the fuck away and hides bc so embarrassed }#{ excuse all my typos--}

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