#his maiden name sorry buddy
Note
ok but ellie x milf!reader 😵💫😵💫 she’d be feral
Strings ✩ [ ellie williams ] ✩
Oh, anon. I love the way you think.
just a girl (part two)
guitar teacher!ellie x milf!reader
✩ wc: 1.3k
✩ summary: Ellie's day gets a bit more exciting when she meets her favorite student's mom.
✩ cw: ellie having absolutely no game
"That's perfect, buddy!" Ellie exclaimed.
Jackson abandoned the guitar he was holding to throw his arms up in victory. Ellie managed to grab the instrument before it went crashing to the floor, but her heart raced at the prospect of it breaking.
A quick glance at the clock told her she had a few minutes left of the lesson, so she strapped his guitar back in its travel case. When she had the bag zipped up, she pulled her rolling chair in front of his seat to could give him a few parting words.
"You did great today, little guy! I'm going to give you some homew—"
Jackson's hands shot out in front of her face, tiny fingers wiggling erratically.
"Ellieeeee, my fingers hurt!"
With a sigh, she pushed his hands back into his lap.
"That's okay! It's supposed to at first. But if you keep practicing, you'll build up callouses on your fingers and it won't hurt anymore."
Ellie regretted her words when she saw his nose wrinkle. He curled in on himself, horrified by her statement.
"Callouses! What are those?"
She suppressed her laughter at his reaction, leaving a gentle pat on his shoulder to calm him. He was pouting, eyes on his feet as he swung them back and forth under the chair. His legs weren't long enough to reach the floor.
"It's just extra skin. I have lots of them! Here let me show you," she said, pointing to his right ring finger. "You've already got one from holding your pencil at school."
Nose still wrinkled, Jackson held his right hand in front of his face. He peered over his hand to hers, trying to get a look at her callouses.
A gentle knock at the studio door pulled Ellie from her thoughts. It opened with a click.
"Hey, Mrs. Y/L/N. Jackson did great today. He learned all about—" Ellie stopped in her tracks because that was not Jackson's elderly grandmother standing at the door.
Jackson shot up from his seat, a ball full of energy. He ran right at you, sending you sprawling backward into the open door. You cringed at the loud bang of the knob against the wall.
"Mommy!"
"Jackie! Calm down!" you scolded, trying to gain control over the wild child's movements.
Ellie was frozen in what could be called shock. She was positively, wholeheartedly, absolutely starstruck, and she almost wished it was Jackson's grandmother because she didn't think she'd be able to form any words for this gorgeous, otherworldly woman.
She scanned your hands and barely hid her smile when she saw. No wedding ring.
"Sorry about that. I'm Jackson's mom. Usually, my mom is the one who picks him up, but I reworked my schedule. It should be me who gets him from now on."
Despite the 7-year-old's size, you threw him up in your arms like he was nothing. He clung to you like a spider monkey, legs wrapped around your waist.
She'd do the same thing if you gave her a chance. God, she'd do anything to get-
You were speaking to her. And she was staring at you, lips slightly parted, like a complete idiot.
"W-well, it's great to meet you Ms...Y/L/N? I'm Ellie."
She bit her lip, silently praying that you went by your mothers' last name. Please. Please. Please.
"Oh, I know who you are," you winked, and Ellie's soul just about left her body, descending into whatever special layer of hell was destined for lesbians who got the hots for their favorite student's mother. "Jackie tells me all about you. And please, call me Y/N. Mrs. Y/L/N is my mother."
She swallowed heavily. You went by your maiden name. The longer she looked at you, the more she noticed and her pounding heart was short-circuiting. God, your hands, your hips.
She pushed a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. Did she look alright? Ellie didn't exactly have to worry about how she looked all day when teaching guitar to children. She wished she wore the green flannel instead of the red. An ex once told her it made her eyes look brighter.
She realized she was taking too long to respond again when you cleared your throat.
"Are you alright, Ellie?" you asked, an innocent smile on your face.
She was sure you were doing it on purpose. You had to be.
"Mommy, look! Ellie says I have a callous," Jackson exclaimed, pulling his face out of your neck to show you his little finger.
"Wow! Let me see!"
His adorable voice ripped Ellie out of her thoughts again. She pinched her forearm with her left hand, desperate for something to ground her.
"Here, let me get you his stuff," she mumbled, happy for something to do as she shoved the rest of Jackson's things into his travel bag.
Your fingers brush over her entire freckled hand when she handed you the case. Ellie couldn't help it. She visibly shivered against your touch, wondering where else you would touch her if she asked. She just needed one chance.
She allowed herself a second to look at your hands, which most definitely just touched her on purpose. Even Ellie wasn't delusional enough to believe that was an accident. She couldn't stop her thoughts from going to a darker, more intimate place.
"Should I give you my number?" you said, trying to wrangle your son and his bag at the same time.
She tried so hard to stop it, but nothing could prevent the rosy blush that spread across her cheeks. She felt it go all the way to her ears and down her neck. Yes, yes, yes. Give her your number. Give her everything. She could take it. She could take anything you give to her. Anything you wanted.
You smiled wide, teeth shown in a grin that almost doubled as a laugh. Your hand reached out to squeeze her shoulder, nails gently scratching against the flannel.
"Just in case something happens. With Jackie," you clarified.
Ellie had to physically shake her head to pull herself out of her thoughts. It was so wrong to think of you that way. Of course that was not what you meant.
"Right," she said, taking your phone from your waiting hand.
Hands shaking, she managed to put her number in your phone. There was no way you missed the way she was shaking when she handed you the phone back.
"Great! Now tell Miss Ellie thank you!" you said, turning toward your restless son.
Ellie kept forgetting Jackson was there. There was never a quiet moment with him, but he was silent now, eyes scanning between you and her.
"Bye! Thank you!" he said, hopping down from your arms and grabbing your arm.
"Bye, Jackson! Don't forget to practice the notes we learned, okay?" she said, feeling bad for neglecting her favorite student for a moment.
"Thanks, Ellie," you said, sending her another wink.
You let your son pull you out of the room, and as soon as you were out of sight, Ellie let herself fall against the door. She was ready to shut it and lock herself away for the rest of the afternoon, but she stopped breathing when she heard a voice from down the hallway.
"Mommy, do you think Miss Ellie is pretty?"
Her heart skipped another beat or two as she awaited your response.
"Well...um—She's a great teacher, isn't she?" you said, voice strained as you tried to come up with a response.
He was giggling now and she could see the look on his face. She had never met a happier, more expressive child.
"I think Miss Ellie thinks you’re pretty. Just like Hannah in my class! She always says..."
The rest of his sentence faded as you walked out of her earshot. Ellie cursed under her breath and added being exposed by a literal seven-year-old to her list of things that would torment her while she was trying to fall asleep.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
a/n - I kind of feel like this is going to flop, so let me know if you want a part two!
#ellie tlou#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams#ellie williams x female reader#lesbian#tlou#ellie x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams imagine#ellie x y/n#sub!ellie#bottom!ellie#guitar teacher!ellie#answered asks#hundredandsix
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The Story of Minglan
Minglan, save me 😭
I have one more day of work tomorrow before I can take a couple of days off. I've been working 10-hour days for the past twenty days (well, 9, with a one-hour break in the middle) straight. I have so many non-work related things to do but I will probably do none of them and just sleep. I'm just so drained and counting on a c-drama to give my brain an extra boost to get me through tomorrow, though Minglan at this point in the show is probably a bad choice. The Empress Dowager and the stupid court politics just exhaust me and I'm just hoping for a miracle at this point 😭😭
***
Does anyone actually care about these random people and their manufactured drama?
We see so little of Molan and Changbai, Rulan and Hualan have dropped off the face of the Earth and instead, we are here debating if this rando raped that other rando or if he was set up over some dumbass scheme I couldn't care less about. If all this doesn't start becoming relevant with super speed, I will be very pissed off.
***
How convenient 🙄
So, was she murdered or did they pay her to kill herself?
***
OMG!
Is this the first time we've seen her with her hair down? She's so pretty!
***
Ah, so that's what we are getting at.
Honestly, I am not buying the whole contrivance. If the Emperor had simply said, "Gu Tingye, you go!" I would have been aboard at once, it would have made sense, it would have been what was expected. We really didn't need this whole mess with their army buddies. All it did was annoy me.
***
I am so looking forward to this baby because there will 100% be some drama like Madam Qin trying to smother him in his cradle or something and I need this drama to go back to being interesting ASAP.
***
LOL. LOL. LOL.
There is a reason the plot is pushing so hard to send him away right at this precise moment. Sorry, Minglan, but I am looking forward to your attempted murder.
On the bright side, at least they can't stuff him with another concubine while he's away on the pretext that his legal wife is pregnant, eh? 🤣🤣
***
Wait, where is Nanny Chang?
Why isn't she with them already?
***
Granny's back, at least.
Small comforts.
***
LMAO, drag her Minglan.
This aunt Kang is the most pointless villain on this show and it is about time Minglan stopped putting up with petty bullshit.
***
LMAO, shut up, bitch.
She has several, all of whom could eat your shitty ass for lunch and still walk away hungry.
***
What even.
Again, I ask. When does Minglan start murdering these people?
***
LMAOOOOOO 🤣🤣
Nanny Chang going out to murder people is fine by me, too!
***
LMAO, merchandise?
Is this a translation thing or do they really call it that in Chinese? Like bun in the oven?
***
LMAOOOO 🤣🤣
End her, Nanny!
***
Nanny is taking no prisoners today!
58 episodes into this drama and this is the first time I'm seeing someone openly tell a bitch to fuck off 🤣🤣
***
OH MY GOD, SHE JUST KEEPS GOING!!
***
Ah, so her true surname is Wang after all!
I keep wondering why they address her by her married surname when all the other women keep their maiden name even after they marry, including her sister.
***
LMAO, is she for real?
Bitch, Gu Tingye will skin you alive!
***
AAAAAAAAND SHE'S BACK!!
I AM LIVING FOR THIS CARNAGE!! 🔥🔥
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“Do you love me?” Eddie x Fem!Reader SMUT
Cw: Intercourse, swearing, head (both recieving)
YOU MUST BE 18+ TO READ YOU WEIRDO
˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧⁎˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧
The way you and your lifelong friend, Eddie, became 'friends with benefits' was... To put it bluntly, interesting. In fact, it wasn't some kind of contract or mutual agreement. It just sorta happened.
You and him were cleaning up the school's basement together after a D&D meet. Tension between you two had been especially high that week. He couldn't make eye contact with you in the game, he'd brush up against you every time you bent down to pick up something...
And you.
You couldn't explain this sudden attraction to him. You were like a cat in heat around Eddie, and it was embarassing. He'd smile at you and you'd feel heat pool between your legs. You'd take a break cleaning the basement just to get a glance at him doing his thing. When he brushed against you for a third and final time, you had subconciously let out the smallest of noises just to get his attention.
You two had a lot more to clean up after that.
Originally, you thought it was a 'one and done' thing, but one time in the school basement turned into another time in his van, a third time in your room, a fourth, fifth, sixth time...
Now, the two of you are home for the summer after your first year at college, and nothing changed. Anytime you could visit him or vice versa, you did.
But lately, you noticed things were getting more personal. He'd throw in more pet names, kiss you for longer, hang around longer.
You don't mind it at all. It's cliché, sure, but you'd give anything to just word-vomit all your feelings to this man and go from fuck buddies to something more. But it doesn't work like that.
You had just finished moving back in when you hear the phone ringing.
"Hello?" You answer.
"You officially back home?" Eddie asks, eagerness prickling his voice.
"Yup, you?"
"Obviously, where else would I be callin' from?"
You can hear the smile in his voice. "Right, sorry... Hey, wanna do something? I'm done unpacking and I'm bored as all hell."
"That's why I called. A/C's broken here, and I've got nothing better to do..." He pauses. "Not that I would want something better to do-fuck, that came out wrong."
You smile at him getting flustered. "Come over, we can walk around the town and get shakes or something?"
"Sounds fantastic, I'll be there in ten." You heard him hang up before you could say anything.
Sure enough after 10 minutes, his van is in your driveway.
You open the door to greet him, and suddenly it's just like that evening in the basement again. He's wearing a cut up Iron Maiden shirt, jean shorts, and his frizzy hair is pulled into a ponytail. It's enough to make you lose it right then and there.
You close the door behind you, sunlight already far too hot.
"So..." Eddie turns to you as you both start walking down your driveway. "Rate your freshman year out of 10."
"Hmm... Solid 9. What about you?"
"10 all the way, especially since I wasn't too far away to see you." You can't tell if it's just the heat, but Eddie's face turns pink when he says that. He looks away as if he'd said something wrong.
"Ohoho, really? That's all that made it good?" You're studying him while he isn't looking at you. The way he fidgets with the frayed ends on his shorts, the way his happy trail peaks from underneath his shirt... All you want to do is rip it all off of him.
"Well yeah dude," His eyes still won't meet yours. "You're like, my best friend." He says the last few words in an overly excited, high pitched voice to make you laugh.
"Right right, I forgot." You smile when he flips you off as a response.
You and Eddie come back an hour later; sweaty, tired, and hot, to a note on the refrigerator.
It's from your mother. Your sister needed summer clothes and the mall is having a sale, so the house is empty for the afternoon.
The two of you are in your room now, fan blasting as you try and cool down.
All Eddie can focus on as he leans agains your dresser (besides the blistering heat) is you. You're rambling on about some drama between your two roommates, and though he is listening, he has to admit he's getting distracted. He's drinking you up like he's dying of thirst. He's watching you run your hands through your hair, watching your smile beam when you talk about your favorite roommate, studying how the sunlight from your window highlights your eyes, your lips, the frizzy parts of your hair.
He's taking this little secret to the grave, but he's madly in love with you. So in love it scares him, and everytime he sees you it gets more and more difficult not to say anything.
"Yeah, so that was my entire life second semester." You pause and look at him.
"Hm? What?" He stiffens, hoping you knew he was listening.
He looks absolutely gorgeous. His lower back's pressed against your dresser, hands in his pockets. You sit there and he takes his ponytail out, tossing his hair around and running his fingers through it before putting it up again.
"Are you alright?" You ask.
He looks down at you and smiles. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
You get up from your bed, your eyes never leaving his. "What are you thinking about?"
He swallows, and hesitates before answering. He's been acting off all day but you can't figure out why just yet.
"You, sweetheart. Who else would I think about?" He looks as if he had no control over saying any of that, but he doesn't try and take it back either.
"Hm. Sweetheart... That's a new one." You move closer to him.
Sweetheart. The name rolls off his tongue like he's called you that for years. "What else are you thinking about?"
"Do you want my honest answer?" He brushes a stray piece of hair from your face.
"Why else would I ask?"
He leans down to whisper in your ear. "I wanna fuck you until your damn bed breaks."
You lift his chin up with your finger to look at him. He's got a look in his eyes that screams desire, but something's different this time. Before you can figure it out, he kisses you. Suddenly, you're in this alternate universe where you and him have been the love of each other's lives for years. A universe where the two of you aren't one random date away from losing each other.
Rarely do you two ever kiss like this outside of hooking up. Eddie would remain celibate for the rest of his life if it meant still being able to kiss you, but that's something he'll take to his grave. You wish things were different between the two of you. Lord knows just how much you're keeping from him, and you wonder if it's the same on his end.
After a while, you pull away. He looks lost without your lips on his.
"Lemme taste you, please?" You whisper in his ear.
His eyes widen at your bluntness, but it's nothing he isn't used to.
"Shit- you can do whatever you fucking want to me." He starts undoing the buttons on his shorts but you stop him.
"I'll take care of that."
You let him stand and watch as you slide his boxers off. His heart nearly jumps out of his chest as soon as you give him that innocent look, gazing up into his eyes.
"Fucking take it, please." He nearly can't get the words out as you lick up the shaft.
You're bobbing your head as you make an attempt to fit all of him in. All composure he had is lost now as his vocabulary becomes a string of curses, moans, and Y/n's- and you can't help but admire how hot he looks when he's like this. His hand clamps over his mouth as he sinks into your dresser, his other hand buried in your hair.
"Fuck, your mouth always feels so good angel." He huffs, his raspy voice broken up by his moans.
You switch your mouth for your hand, sliding it up and down just slow enough to make him suffer for his orgasm. Minutes pass as you watch him struggle to catch his breath, struggle to stand without his legs trembling. Your mouth is back on him, dragging your tongue across his tip.
"Y/n- God, please please keep going- fuck."
"Mm," You feel his cock twitch, and you remove your mouth with a popping noise. Soon after you watch him cum, and you do nothing to stop it from spilling out onto the floor. Eddie takes a moment to collect himself. You look up at him and take this view in as he's gripping your dresser, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. His arousal drips down his shaft before you lick it off of him, earning a shiver from him.
"You're fucking evil." He groans.
You give him a mischievous look. "Then you're fucking evil."
"Yeah? Can evil get back on her bed then?"
Something about the way he asked has you far too excited. It's the raspiness in his voice, the quiet muttering.
"Hmm..." You pause. "I think so."
"C'mon hun, lay down for me."
His voice sends shivers down your spine, and you obey him. Every minute he isn't touching you is a minute wasted- it's torture.
He takes off your shorts, sliding them off you and tossing them aside like they're nothing. Before he continues, he leans down and kisses you. As his one hand holds your leg down, his other trails up your thigh. He's taking his time, like he's afraid he might wake up and you'd have disappeared.
He starts by rubbing circles on your clit through your panties, getting quite the reaction from you already.
"Take it off please." You whimper. His hands always work like fucking magic on your skin, but you're impatient.
"Of course, angel." He smiles when he notices the blush creep across your face and takes off your panties.
Eddie wraps his arms around your thighs, making sure to spread your legs as wide apart as he can. He's got you locked in, as he always did when he ate you out.
"Don't make me wait, Eds..." You pout as you look at him.
"I've just got such a pretty view, I can't help it." He makes eye contact with you, making sure to maintain it as he kisses the insides of your thighs. His eyes refuse to leave yours even while you're shivering, even while you're gasping and squirming under his grip as his tongue swirls around your clit.
He's excited, his ego inflates every time you moan his name and, quite franky, it's his favorite sound. You're trying so hard not to buck your hips against it his mouth while he latches onto your clit, sucking and kissing the over-stimulated nerves.
He looks up at you, watching the way your back arches and you cover your face with your hands.
"So shy all of a sudden, angel. You know you taste so fuckin' good, I could do this to you for hours..." And he has before. You can't even tell him you're about to come you're so caught up in his fingers digging into your thighs, his tongue, his words... the way he has to look at you every so often.
Your chest is heaving you're panting so heavily. Eddie listens to your whimpering moans while his one hand leaves your thigh.
"God, you sound so pretty." His hand drags across your skin and you nearly jump.
He scissors two fingers in you, his mouth and fingers creating a rhythm that drives you wild. The feeling of his fingers in you makes you flinch, little moans and yelling his name spilling out of you.
A tightening feeling makes itself known in your stomach and you start to tremble while he laps up every drop that floods out of you. All you could muster up to say was a string of curses.
You sit up after a few seconds of staring at the ceiling.
Eddie looks proud of himself. You're absolutely destroyed, but he doesn't want to be done yet- and he's hoping you're thinking the same.
"Do you... Wanna stop here?" He asks.
"God, no." You pause for a moment. "Get on the bed, I wanna be on top this time."
He looks excited, and you definitely don't have to ask twice before he's switched places with you.
You waste no time crawling on top of him. The look in his eyes is screaming infatuation for you. You're avoiding his cock completely, and the frustration on his face is priceless.
"Be patient, hun." You lean down and kiss him, feeling him abdolutely melt beneath you. He's desperate to touch you, his hands slide up your back. He's gently dragging his hands along your back and you shiver, gasping into the kiss.
Eddie nearly loses it.
You pull away, pecking his lips, then his neck. You're fucking dripping for him, but you just want to tease him first.
Until...
"Please." Eddie huffs. "I need to feel you on top of me."
You smile. "Ohh, alright. You've waited enough."
He looks relieved as you sit back up, guiding yourself to slowly sink onto his cock. You whimper in response, and it's a sound he loves.
"C'mon, princess." His hands are on your waist as he guides you to move up and down.
You're huffing and moaning as you bounce on his cock, his hips bucking so much it's shaking the bed. You both are looking in each others eyes, and there's something so voyueristic about it. Neither of you can control yourselves. He's moving you on him like you're a goddamn fleshlight- and he's touching you everywhere he can. Your hips, your waist, your tits- anything.
Eddie's soft moans and whimpers are driving you crazy. He's looking at you on top of him like you're the 8th wonder of the world, you've never seen him so infatuated with you.
"I love when you look at me like that." You catch him in the act, and his face turns red as he looks away. "Hm? You don't enjoy watching me use your cock for my own pleasure?"
"'Course I do..." He says. "My favorite view."
"That's what I thought."
You pick up the pace just a little bit, and his grip on your hips tightens.
It's all too much. The room is hot, and you both are sweating. He's groaning out from under you, squirming and bucking his hips from overstimulation. You're listening to his heavy sighs and his deep, raspy groans like it's a song- one you never want to end. Your back is aching, your stomach is in knots, but you haven't finished yet.
"Shit." Eddie huffs. "You're so fuckin' hot on top of me, doin' such a good job, hun."
His hands are rubbing both of your nipples, and he can't get enough of seeing your tits bounce. He moves his hands to your waist, then your hips.
“C-Can’t get enough of your hands, hun.” You say. It comes out shakey.
He's yelling and telling you to keep going just as he reaches his climax, but you keep going to reach your own. You give him no time to collect himself, and it drives him up the wall. His mouth is open as curses and groans flood out of him.
"I fuckin' love the way you move, angel.” He mumbles. “Fuck- I love you."
"Ohh fuck." Your back arches, and a shiver runs through your body. He watches you clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling a long, whimpering moan as you orgasm.
You both pause.
You heard it- clear as day.
"What did you just say?"
Time freezes.
He looks at you as if he'd just said something horribly wrong.
"Shit. I didn't mean to say that."
"It sounded like you did." You're panting still. "Eddie. Do you… Do you love me?"
He looks terrified of what will happen if he tells you the truth.
"I need you to be honest." You break the silence yet again.
"Why?"
"Can you just fucking tell me?" You're not breaking eye contact.
"Yes-Fuck! Yes I did! And I'm sorry I said it." He looks humiliated.
"Sorry?" You slowly get off of him to put your clothes back on, wincing as you do so. "Why would you be sorry?"
"'Cause like, this isn't a... Y'know." He's getting up now too, grabbing his boxers.
You've got your shorts and shirt back on, and you stand and look at him.
"Do you want it to be?"
"I can't answer that, Y/n." He's nervous, he can't even begin to predict how you'd react. He's running his hands through his hair and picking at his nails.
"Answer or I'll just keep pestering you about it." And he knows you will, you're quite good at the whole pestering game.
He draws in a breath before letting out a deep sigh.
"I mean, yeah. I do. But if you don't and I just ruined things, I want you to tell me."
"You didn't ruin anything, Eds." You look at him, making sure he knows you're serious. "Have you ever considered that I might've felt the same?"
He looks shocked for a moment before saying, "No. Why would you?"
"Do you not see where I'm going with this?" You pause, and he doesn't seem to suddenly understand. "I'm fucking in love with you. All I've wanted is a relationship out of this."
"Well why didn't you say anything?"
"Same reason you didn't."
He comes up to you, taking your hands in his. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I've wanted nothing more than to be your boyfriend since we became friends."
"It's okay, really. I could have said something, too."
"So then... Do you ya wanna be…?" He looks at the floor, and for someone who’s literally fucked you in a bathroom stall once, he’s incredibly awkward now.
"Hmm. I'll have to get back to you on that." You snicker. "God, this is so cheesy. Of course I will."
He smiles and kisses your forehead.
"Alright, can we do something about this fuckin' heat?"
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson#eddie stranger things#stranger things smut#stramger things#stranger things#smut#80s
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@anecia Okay so since you mentioned that Y/N got a tattoo of Alcina’s name, I have to see this experience. Like Alcina’s reaction to it and what happened when Y/N came home to show Alcina. This is just if you want to. Thank you and have a good day!
Okay, cool! Let’s get into it! Post this ask is talking about here!
Y/N: *Fighting back tears of pain as they get a tattoo of Alcina’s name on their arm* S-so, you done yet, man?
Sal: *Giving Y/N their tattoo (Have you seen his “Mother” tattoo? He probably didn’t do it himself, but I bet he gives anybody a tat if they ask for one.)*
Sal: Almost done, Y/N! *Finishes the last letter* There, all finished!
Y/N: *Leans back in relief* Awesome! Do you have a mirror I can look at?
Sal: *Hands one to Y/N*
Y/N: *Panics* This is completely illegible! I can’t even read it!
Sal: *Rolls his eyes* That’s because you’re looking in a mirror, Y/N. The image is reversed.
Y/N: Oh… Hehe. Sorry for doubting you, buddy. It looks good, then! Nice job!
Sal: *Blushes from the compliment* I’m glad you like it. But are you sure that’s all you want? I can add more details or-
Y/N: *Still in a tremendous amount of pain but trying to act tough* NO! I mean, uh… *Shrugs* Nah, I don’t want to shock Alci too much. Plus, you can always add more later, right?
Sal: It’s up to you… *Knows that Y/N’s feeding him bullshit*
Y/N: Great! Well, I guess I better be on my way! *Rushes the hell away from Sal before he can do anything else*
Sal: Wait! I have to give you the care instructions!
Y/N: It’ll be fine! I’ll keep it clean don’t worry! *Runs home*
Sal: *Lost in thought* Oh, Y/N. You’re hard to love, but you’re harder to hate… Okay, that’s a lie. I knew you’d be my best friend from the moment we first met. *Tears up thinking about his best buddy*
Back at the castle
Y/N: *Runs in, looking for Alcina* Babe! I’m home! Where are you?
Alcina: I’m in the kitchen, draga!
Y/N: *Runs into the kitchen, ready to show Alcina their tattoo* Alci, I have something to show you! I- wait, what are you doing?
Alcina: *Wearing one of those frilly pink aprons that moms from the fifties wore* I’m making the girls maiden sandwiches for lunch. I have to cut the crusts off or they won’t eat. You know how they are.
Y/N: *Horrified* Did you say “maiden sandwiches”? And you’re making them on the counter? Where I make my cereal?? … Also, you have to cut the crusts off? That’s adorable!
Alcina: *Incredibly glad that Y/N is easily distracted, wipes her hands off* Well, did you have something you wanted to show me?
Y/N: *Remembers why they raced in there* Yes! I’ve got something I think you’ll really like!
Alcina: *Slightly worried because most of the surprises Y/N has given her in the past have been wildly dangerous or just straight up stupid* Okay… *Winces* Show it to me.
Y/N: *Lifts up their sleeve* Ta-da! Take a look!
Alcina: *Eyes widen when she sees her name on Y/N’s bicep* Draga! You did this for me? *Suddenly a bit teary*
Y/N: *Runs up to give Alcina a hug* Yeah, babe! Sal did it for me! Do you like it?
Alcina: *Leans down and gives Y/N a kiss on the lips, truly touched that they wanted to get her name permanently placed on their body* I love it, Y/N. This means so much to me. *Gently holds Y/N’s face* Did it hurt, baby?
Y/N: *Blanches, wants to look strong* What?! No! But you know me, I just have a really high pain tolerance!
Alcina: *Feels her heart melt because now she KNOWS how badly it hurt, Y/N’s always been bad at telling a lie* Well, it makes me very happy to know that people will have proof that you belong only to me! *Smirks at Y/N*
Y/N: *Cheers* Yeah! And look, I can make it dance too! *Starts flexing their scrawny arm (I’m self projecting here lol)*
The tattoo: *Wiggles in response to the movement*
Alcina: *Laughs at Y/N’s display, plays along* My brawny little Y/N. *Can’t help but pinch Y/N’s cheek at their cuteness*
A week later
Y/N: *Bedridden because they let the tattoo get super infected, decided to blame Sal so they wouldn’t get in trouble*
Alcina: *Has been taking care of Y/N, berates Sal when he comes over to visit* Salvatore! How could you be so irresponsible with Y/N’s tattoo?! They’re your best friend! You should know better!
Sal: W-what?! Y/N left before I could give them instructions on how to take care of it! Y/N was in a lot of pain and they were afraid that I was going to add more detail to it and ran away!
Alcina: *Pinches the bridge of her nose, annoyed* I apologize Salvatore. I should have known this was Y/N’s fault.
Alcina: *Rushes up to the bedroom where Y/N is resting* Y/N! Why did you blame Salvatore? He did you a favor and you treat him like this?!
Y/N: *A bit groggy from pain meds, looks at Alcina from under the covers, eyes widen and they laugh nervously* Hehe… So, I may have over-exaggerated a bit. Sorry, babe.
Alcina: *Thinks Y/N looks really cute snuggled up on her bed, calms down a bit* I guess you getting sick is your punishment for lying.
Y/N: *Excited* So, I’m not in trouble?! I thought you were going to ground me… *Smiles at Alcina*
Alcina: *Suddenly remembers another reason she’s pissed at Y/N, growls* Let’s not get carried away. Why didn’t you get some more detail on that tattoo?! Aren’t I worth it?!
Y/N: My arm went brrrrr :(
Masterlist
#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#re8#re8 village#re8 lady dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu x reader#y/n is stupid#re8 shitpost#re8 incorrect quotes#alcina dimitrescu x y/n#alcina dimitrescu x reader#resident evil village#resident evil 8#salvatore moreau
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Intro dialog for every Guilty Gear character day 3: Johnny
Sol: Your bounty is high enough to pay for my trip to the moon three times over.
Johnny: You ain't the first person to try to claim that bounty, you ain't gonna be the last.
Ky: You were also orphaned by the Crusades?
Johnny: That bloody war took many a good man's life.
May: When are you going to let me pilot the May Ship again?
Johnny: The last time I let ya drive her ya nearly crashed into Illyria Castle.
Axl: Out of curiosity what's the craziest thing you've ever stolen?
Johnny: Alright, now I wont say which, but one of the Kings of Illyria’s crown is a fake, if you know what i'm saying.
Chipp: Come on, you're wearing all black and you wield a katana, just take the full plunge and become a ninja.
Johnny: Sorry buddy, but if I became a ninja, I would just be too cool for the world to handle.
Potemkin: I'm here to retrieve stolen property from Zepp.
Johnny: What are you talking about? I haven't taken anythin from you guys… recently.
Faust: How’s… May’s… Condition???
Johnny: She’s doing a lot better thanks to you, Doc.
Milia: I work for the government now, so I have to take you in.
Johnny: I’m sure ya asked for this job personally, to see good old Johnny.
Zato: This is nothing personal, I'm just doing my job.
Johnny: And when I cut ya down, it also won't be anythin personal.
Ram: I'm confused, I thought pirates were supposed to be in the ocean, not the sky.
Johnny: Ya don't have to have such strict definitions for everythin sometimes a spade is just a spade.
Leo: A lawbreaker stands before me, and I will be the mighty judge, jury and executioner.
Johnny: I’m startin to think this ain’t no jury of my peers.
Nago: Your swordsmanship, it reminds me of samurai from ages past.
Johnny: You lookin to relive some of your glory days? Because I'm more than willin to help.
Gio: Look I have my orders to take you in, but I still owe you one, so even if I win I'll just say you gave me the slip.
Johnny: Ah that's sweet, looks like it ain't a dog eat dog world after all.
Anji: Steal from the rich, give to the poor, you’re a real Ishikawa Goemon.
Johnny: First time I heard that one, normally I get Robin Hood.
I-No: Don't even try it lover boy, I'm way out of your league.
Johnny: Damn, and I had a great witch related pick up line and everything.
Goldlewis: Outlaws like you give us cowboys a bad name.
Johnny: Nah, lawmen like you ruin the real spirit of the cowboy.
Jack-O: Is that a cowboy costume? Shouldn't you have a gun not a sword?
Johnny: It ain't no costume, I'm the bona-fide real thing.
HC: Ah the showdown, the best part of any western movie.
Johnny: In a quick draw it all comes down to who's faster, unfortunately for you.
Baiken: Put that sword down, you ain't no damn samurai.
Johnny: Cowboy, pirate, samurai, what can I say I have a lot of feathers in my cap.
Testament: I hear you've adopted many an orphaned child from the Crusades.
Johnny: I'd like to think your old man Kliff woulda been proud of me.
Bridget: Your bounty is HOW MUCH!!!
Johnny: Run along now lass, bounty hutin ain't nothin you want to involve yourself with.
Sin: Hey man, your ship looked so cool while I was riding next to it on a dragon!
Johnny: You did what now?
Delilah: Your ship was nice… um, thanks for letting me ride in it.
Johnny: Ah much alleged, good old Johnny's always willin to lend a helpin hand.
Asuka R#: I am not the real “That Man” I am simply a clone.
Johnny: So the coward made a fake to hide from his past, I see how it is.
Asuka R Kreutz: I am deeply sorry for all the pain my past actions have caused.
Johnny: Ah ain't that sweet, ya apologized, to one person who you helped make an orphan, what about all the rest?
Elphelt: Is that a noble outlaw, coming to steal this fair maiden's heart?
Johnny: Normally I'm the one who uses the cheesy pick up line, feels weird, the shoe being on the other foot.
ABA: Your ship is a whale, yet you didn't paint it blue, what is wrong with you?
Johnny: I didn't paint the May Ship, she was just born that way.
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TWST fic: they meet
Summary: (this one pretty much is what it says on the tin)
Word count: 1,165 words
Warnings: references to spiked drinks and ableism
Cleaned it up a tiny bit for posting. @inmateofthemind 's headcanon co-ed mage school (Corlux) is referenced here. Also featuring Kallisto's maiden name! I have so many feels about Chrysanthos's parents I need to just write the two of them together as much as possible, this is just the first one, and no, I am not apologizing, you can't make me.
—————
“Don't drink that.”
“Huh?”
The stranger didn't offer any further explanation until they'd made it out to the terrace, and even then she didn't say a word until she'd plucked the glass from Ilias’s hand and tossed the entire thing over the railing and into the hedges down below. Ilias stared down, openmouthed and flabbergasted for perhaps the first time in his adult life, as she spoke again.
“Sorry if I made a scene or put you on the spot back there,” she began.
“You just—” he stammered, his voice very, very small and full of shock and awe. “That was crystal— a Jupiter family g— and you— threw—”
“If they want to get their chitons in a twist over one little glass, let them,” she said, letting out a small huff and adjusting the large glasses on her face. “They don't scare me. Besides, I didn't see any of them trying to call out Adonias for harassing you, or his buddies for spiking your drink when he did. And my jaw would've hit the floor if any of them actually stepped in to stop you from drinking it.”
A chill raced up his spine, a chill that quickly morphed into an icy anger. So that was it. He should have suspected that there was more to the mocking and harassment than simply trying to make him lose face in front of literally everyone. Inhaling deeply, Ilias breathed out, trying to release some of the immediate tension and regain his usual cool composure. Well, Adonias had lost on both fronts today, and while they were small victories, they were still victories.
He turned to regard his strange savior, who was also turning to look him over.
“To whom do I owe my thanks?” he asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth fast before he could worry about seeming rude.
The woman jolted, her eyes going huge behind the glasses and her face turning a bit pink.
“I- I'm Kallisto. Kallisto Euphemia,” she answered, all the rock-solid confidence from a moment before now gone from her voice. “And, I'm guessing you are…” She trailed off, abruptly looking down at her shoes.
“Adonias thinks he's funny, using the same nickname he teased me with in middle school,” Ilias muttered. “I appreciate you not laughing.”
“A-anyone who thinks calling someone else ‘mentally ill-ias’ is funny,” she said, her voice just a touch steadier this time, “can sit on a cactus.” Clearing her throat, she asked, “Your name is Ilias?”
“Of the Shroud family,” he confirmed tiredly, resting his elbows on the balustrade. “The guests none of the ‘great’ families want at their parties. I'm sure you saw my brothers inside at some point.”
Kallisto walked a little closer, linking her hands in front of her in a demure way that appeared very practiced. “You think nobody wants you at their parties? Why?”
He let out a soft snort. “That's just a fact of life for us,” he said, without animosity or condescension. “The twelve great houses and all the lesser houses never are happy about needing to invite the Shroud family to anything, even the strictly necessary stuff. It's always been that way, and that's not counting if the Jupiter family gets a patriarch who finds it more convenient to just forget to invite us.”
Kallisto let out a grumpy hum of consideration.
“Anyway, thanks for the save. I owe you one. Sorry for spoiling the fun.”
“Y-you didn't spoil—”
Ilias turned and looked at her, smiling ruefully, and her mouth shut with a click. He nodded, having expected as much. “Yeah, I did, I know,” he said, sighing and standing up straight again as he looked at her. Neither notably short or tall, with hair the color of dishwater up in a messy bun, dark blue eyes and deeply tan skin. The glasses and her nondescript, unflattering clothes made it difficult to tell at first, but she seemed to have a round face that balanced out a full mouth and somewhat chubby figure. She stood very poised and rigid—maybe she was a Corlux alumnus?—and looked like she was trying very hard to embody plainness enough to blend in with whatever wallpaper she stood near.
Something about it felt forced or false, or both.
Ilias slid his hands into his pockets and turned to walk away. It was the safer bet.
Still, he couldn't act like a total asshole.
“Have fun at the party or whatever,” he said over his shoulder.
“Wait, you're leaving?!”
She sounded genuinely shocked.
“Yeah, this scene blows,” he answered. No point in not being honest. “Not worth my time. Besides, my brothers will find me later, so it's no big deal if the middle child goes AWOL for a while.”
He continued towards the stairs that led down from the terrace, ready to make a fast escape, but apparently Kallisto wasn't easily deterred.
“Wait a sec!”
He paused and looked back over his shoulder. What was up with her anyway? If she truly was anything like how she tried to appear, then this stupid party wasn't something she gelled with either.
“What?” he asked, withholding a sense of irritation.
“Do you—” she started, then stopped, incoherent noises coming out of her mouth and growing increasingly higher in pitch until, haltingly, she managed to speak. “Would you- like to, er- go? Get a be-v’rage? At a place??”
Ilias blinked rapidly, baffled. “Huh?”
Kallisto helplessly pointed at herself, him, the hedges where she'd tossed his glass, back to him, and then between him and herself, her face going redder and redder by the second.
“I-I-I uh, I um. I owe you? A drink?” she finally said.
He blinked again, slower this time.
He had…
No clue what to make of this woman.
Still, she was being a hell of a lot nicer to him than anyone from any of the other houses had ever been. Euphemia…the name tickled at the back of his mind but he couldn't place what family that was or where they ranked among the others.
He looked her over again, and maintained in his own mind that the image she was presenting was almost totally at odds with whatever she was trying to hide. And yet, he felt a small spark of intrigue. Besides, crafted mousy appearance and all, she was—he had to admit it—cute.
“Yeah, okay,” he answered at last. “Sure.”
A look of utterly stunned surprise came over her. “Uh?”
“Let's go,” he said. “Get a beverage at a place.”
He turned back and started down the stairs, hearing her follow a moment later.
“You're buying,” he added, feeling like she probably needed a reminder. Whatever confusion he'd dealt her probably had temporarily fried her brain.
“If I do,” she said carefully, “will you answer some questions for me?”
He shrugged. “Depends on the questions, I guess.” After a beat, he added, “Might also depend on the drink.”
“I'll- I'll be s-sure to er, indulge you, then.”
—————
Taglist: @elenauaurs @blithesharem @tixdixl @inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @ramshacklerumble @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @thehollowwriter (let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for my writing and posts about my OCs!)
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Fires of Heaven: Chapters 44-56
What have I done. Okay. Let’s see:
Rand et Aiel drive Couladin’s forces away from Cairhien. Mat, in his increasingly desperate attempts to get away from the battles, keeps finding more battles. He and his band encounter Couladin’s forces – and it’s Mat who kills Couladin. I wonder how many times Rand’s personal battles will be fought by his friends (I mean, all the time, they’re friends, etc.). I’m just thinking about how Couladin, in the grand scheme, is a specifically personal to Rand antagonist – and Rand is not allowed (by the Maidens, then by Mat killing him) to face him and satisfy his personal desire for revenge. You have slightly bigger things to focus on, buddy.
Once Couladin is dead and Cairhien is safe-ish – Mat’s growing his personal army (which he acquired ON ACCIDENT) and they’re marching under the name the Band of the Red Hand (?), which was an army during the Trolloc Wars (?) and the last of them died defending Manetheren.
The Tairens, who Rand sent to keep them out of Tear/Trouble, have decided Cairhien is theirs and he meant for them to conquer it and parcel it out amongst themselves. Rand’s like “that’s adorable. No, I don’t want the Sun Throne, and no, the rest of you bitches can’t have it either” which the Cairhienens like, anyway.
Meanwhile, Nynaeve has accidentally started another riot. The first one was on purpose. This one is because she asked both Masema and Galad to procure her a ship, and they’re on opposite sides. So once the Whitecloaks seized the ship, Masema’s people were like, wait a fucking second. Anyway, they have to leave town in a hurry, and Nynaeve learned an important lesson about Galad.
Nynaeve makes the boat take refugees on board. She and Elayne and Brigitte make up & are less frustrated with each other again. They do also have the Sheinarans with them! They make it to Salidar, Sheinarans and a few of the refugees in tow – and have an unpleasant awakening to the fact that they are Accepted again, and not full Aes Sedai. They’ve gotten used to being the ones in charge of what they do and it’s back again to the trenches of higher education.
They start to teach the Aes Sedai about the Dreaming world, and Siuan nabs Nynaeve to also teach her. The angreal they have that lets them reach the Dreaming will work for any woman, whether she can channel or not. Nynaeve makes Siuan agree to a deal: she’ll teach Siuan, and in exchange, Siuan, Leane, and Logain will let Nynaeve examine what Stilling has done to them. Let’s GO.
Back in Cairhien, Rand is preparing to move against Sammael, since that’s the bitch who has been sending followers to harry him and cause him problems. Then Mat brings news that Morgase is dead (as far as they know, okay?) and Rand pivots. He decided to leave Morgase in Rahvin’s hands and focus on Sammael and Cairhien. Before they take a strike team of Aiel to Caemlyn, a couple of key things happen:
Mat’s main Aiel squeeze Melhindra tries to STAB HIM. She is a DARKFRIEND. Mat kills her.
Moiraine takes them down to the docks to meet with DESTINY. I mean LANFEAR. Lanfear is pissed because Rand’s been sleeping around, what a hussy, and in the ensuing chaos, Rand’s dealing with the whole “I can’t kill a woman” thing and also the “a dead man is trying to take over, fuck OFF, Lews” thing. He freezes at the moment when he could’ve killed Lanfear, and Moiraine takes the opportunity to tackle the Forsaken through the Doorway to Faerie. Lan’s bond is transferred to, uhhh, someone else, and the compulsion on him forces him to leave immediately.
Moiraine left two letters with Rand: 1) for him, telling him she knew what she was doing, sorry not sorry, and 2) one for Thom, I assume telling him she’s cool with the fact that he murdered her relative who was shitty to Morgase.
The Maidens of the Spear come to Rand and are like “we know what the fuck we’re doing. Stop trying to make us into something we’re not, and let us come with you into battle.” He acquiesces, reluctantly, and makes a gateway to take the Aiel to Caemlyn.
Sometimes with the “mustn’t kill a woman1!” stuff going on, I wonder… well, a lot of stuff. Mat’s equally reluctant to kill a woman, but does it instinctively to save his own life. Rand, meanwhile, is a lot more intense about it and I see some of that coming from Lews Therin’s trauma, which we’ve been getting more and more of leaking into Rand’s thoughts. When Rand lets Far Dares Mai join his assault on Caemlyn/Rahvin, he thinks about how he’s sickened by their desire to be in the fight and the way they seem to revel in the chance to die in battle. And I’m like, okay buddy, and are we going to extend this to think about how men will also glorify death in battle? Not yet?
Meanwhile, Nynaeve is teaching Siuan in the Dreaming, catches sight of Moghedien, and flees. Mogs catches up, and this time Nynaeve is like “fuck being scared all the time” and catches Mogs with a DREAMED a’dam. Badass, madam. Moghedien tells her that Rand is walking into a trap in Caemlyn, and Nynaeve scoots off to help however she can, bringing Moghedien with her.
In Caemlyn, Rahvin’s trap goes off, killing Aviendha, Mat, Asmodean, and many others. Rand chases Rahvin into the Dreaming – going there with his actual self, rather than just a dreaming projection. This is also what he did in the Stone of Tear when chasing down Ba’alzamon/what’s his nuts, which I had forgotten or not realized. Convenient for Nynaeve to help with! Rand’s cornered at one point, losing his self because he doesn’t understand Tel’Aran’Rhiod very well, when Nynaeve interrupts and sets Rahvin on fire. It’s enough to draw the Forsaken off Rand for long enough that Rand can balefire him, which conveniently sets the clock back ever so slightly, returning many who were killed in the first onslaught back to life.
After the fight, a couple more things:
Nynaeve realizes Moghedien is in Salidar somewhere.
Asmodean gets killed in THE classic way of opening a door, saying “No! Not you!” and dying.
Rand meets with a Saldaean lord: Bashere, who says Saldaea will, most likely, stand with the Dragon Reborn. Is that Faile’s dad? I bet it’s Faile’s dad. He seems neat.
ALSO SLIGHTLY IMPORTANT: Rand announces an amnesty for men who can channel. This includes Mr. Mazrim Taim, extra False Dragon, who’s been ghosting around the edges of the last couple of books.
And the book ends with Morgase, headed for what I think are the Whitecloaks to enlist their help to get her throne back. Uh oh!
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A Cinderella Story ~ Destiel
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Castiel
For: @whereitallbegannatural’s 7.5k Follower Celebration, I look forward to see what everyone (specially you, bex) creates!!
Words: 1674
ONCE UPON A TIME there was a boy named Ashstiel. His real name was Castiel, but everyone called him Ash because he was always dirty.
You see, his mother had died when he was little, and he hardly remembered her. His father had cared for him until Ashtiel was fourteen, when he had vanished. Then his stepfather and step siblings had made him their servant. So that’s what Ash did for years, until one day, a letter arrived.
‘To the people of this land,
You are all hereby invited to His and Her Majesty, the King and Queen’s, royal ball.
The purpose of this is to find their son an eligible spouse. Therefore, all young men and women between the ages of seventeen and twenty-five may present themselves. This will take place in two weeks time, on the night of the eclipse.
Respectfully,
The Royal Palace’
The stepsiblings were thrilled! Everyone had heard of the Crown Prince’s beauty. But for Ashstiel all it meant was more work..
“How long are you going to take?!!” shouted Zachariah, looking admiring at a picture of Prince Dean,
“You call that a dress?” screamed Ruby, her dark hair almost shimmering as she did it up.
“I’m sorry!” said Ashstiel. “I need to ask Metatron something.“
Almost as soon as the words came out of his mouth, his stepfather marched into the room. “Ask me WHAT?”
“Well,” said the boy, “I was thinking I could use one of Father’s old suits? For the ball?”
“You?” Sneered Metatron,. “Who said YOU were going to the ball?”
“Are you joking?!” said Zachariah.
“But you’re such a mess!” Ruby pointed at Ashtiel. All three of them laughed, going back to doing unimportant things.
Ashtiel quietly muttered, taking a quick peek at the picture of the Prince, “When they look at me, they see a mess. But I am not that way. And if I could, I WOULD go to the ball.”
When the time came for the ball, the three of them piled into their carriage. Ashtiel waved as they left, but they ignored him, laughing among themselves.
Longingly, he said to the garden around him,
“I wish I could go to the ball.”
Then- poof! Right in front of him appeared a short man, with a wicked grin, and WINGS!
“You called?” He said, leaning casually on an oak tree.
Ashtiel took a surprised step back, shielding his eyes from the sudden glow of his bright golden wings,
“Who are you?”
“They call me Gabriel. Though, I s’pose the title is ‘Fairy Godmother’. Who are you?”
The feathered man waggled his eyebrows, giving the boy a curious look,
“I- I’m Ashstiel.”
“Pffft, no you’re not. You’re Cas.”
“What?! How did you even-”
The Fairy Godmother waves him off,
“Nevermind any of that. I’ve come to grant that little wish of yours.”
Ashtiel looked down, filled with a crushing disappointment, “My wish is impossible…”
The Fairy Godmother looked offended, “Uh, buddy. Did I not just appear out of thin air??”
“Yes?” Ashtiel cautiously answered,
“Then I’m the one who gets to decide if your wish is impossible. Now, you need something better to wear.”
He snapped his fingers, and Ashstiel found himself in a velvet red suit.
“Oh, that looks terrible, kid. What color are your eyes?”
“Blue?”
The man snapped his fingers again, and a blue, cotton suit replaced the red one. “Ah, much better. Let me fix you up a royal ride, and- oh! Before I forget, your wish only lasts till the stroke of midnight on the castle bell.”
“So I must leave by then.”
Confused, the boy opened his mouth to ask why, when the Fairy Godmother gave him a mock salute,
“Bingo!”
And promptly disappeared, leaving Ashstiel standing next to a brightly orange coloured carriage.
At the ball, the Crown Prince Dean was overwhelmed, and somehow sad. His mother was confused,
“You’re surrounded by beautiful maidens and gentlemen, and yet, you seem lonely.”
The Prince shook his head, looking at the hoards of people, and said, “I don’t know, mother. But they all seem… wrong.”
“Come,” said his mother, “Meet Lisa Braeden. Her father owns a wealthy mining company.”
But as Prince Dean made his way towards the woman, he heard a disturbance in the gossiping of the ball.
“Who is he?”
“Oh, his suit is fabulous, who do you think…”
“I wish I could marry him.”
When Prince Dean saw the man, he was blown away. The man was handsome, confident even as nobody recognised him.
He made his way towards the man,
“Hello, may I ask your name?”
The other man looked up, blushing slightly, as the Prince offered him a hand.
“I’m A- Cas. My name is Cas.”
As he said it, Cas felt a rush of exhilaration.
“I’m Dean- though you probably already know that.” Dean grinned, “Would you honor me with a dance?”
One dance stretched into two, which stretched into the rest of the night. All the other young men and women were jealous,
“How rude!”
“Why doesn’t he dance with anyone else?”
And soon, Dean invited Cas to join him in the Palace Gardens, where the jealous glares wouldn’t reach them.
“It’s beautiful.” Said Cas, looking around at the pretty flowers and plants,
“Not as beautiful as you.” Dean brushed Cas’ hand with his own.
Cas watched Dean, “I can’t believe that I’m here. And that I’ve found you.”
Dean laughed, “Neither can I. I thought I’d be forced to marry some wealthy bastard, maybe a prince or princess from one of the closer kingdoms. I could never have dreamt that I’d meet you. I still hardly can.”
Cas blushed, looking down at his feet, then shrugged, “My mother always used to say that good things do happen, Dean.”
Dean turned fully to him, the two of them close enough to breathe in each other’s air. Cas’ breath caught in his throat, as he froze, watching Dean’s breathtaking eyes. Their lips brushed, then the sound of bells burst through the moment. Cas gasped, stepping back.
“I’m sorry, I went too far, I should’ve-”
Dean looked hurt, but Cas interrupted him, “No, no! I just- I have to go!”
The second stroke of the bell tolled, and he turned tail, weaving through the gardens, with Dean calling desperately after him.
The tolls of the bell were like the ominous approach of a new day, and Cas couldn’t stay here, remembering the warning the Fairy Godmother had given him,
‘Your wish only lasts till the stroke of midnight on the castle bell.’
He ran through the door to the ballroom, dashing through the crowd of people.
Another ring of the bell,
He could hear the prince calling out, pushing through the crowd, but he ran out the door without looking back, running down the steps as the bell struck again.
He tripped, his foot catching on something. His shoe was ripped off, but he couldn’t risk going back. Dean burst through the doors right as he vanished into the city, the bell striking for the final time.
Dean looked about desperately, taking the deep twilight crystal shoe in his hands, quietly vowing,
“I will find you, Cas.”
The next day it was known that the Prince was searching. He had his personal guard going from house to house, missing none out. They demanded to see everyone from the ages of seventeen to twenty-five, letting them try on the slipper Cas had left behind.
After two days, they arrived at Ashtiel’s door, a short, dark haired male and a young ginger accompanied by a small band of soldiers. The sharp contrast between the two at the door was highlighted by his tired scowl and her enthusiastic grin.
Zachariah ran from the window, calling out,
“They’re here!!”
“Come on, come on!” Ruby stomped down the stairs, and Ashtiel peered out the upstairs window as a knock came at the door. Metatron opened it, an over eager smile on his face,
“Oh, come in! These are my two children.”
The two went inside, leaving the rest of the soldiers to stay watch.
Ashtiel creeped quietly to the top of the stairs, looking down to catch a glimpse of the girl’s red hair as she held out a familiar shoe. He moved down the stairs until he could see them all.
Zachariah pushed Ruby to the side, “Let me try.”
He grabbed the shoe, trying to drag it on, but his foot was too big. Ruby snatched it off him, “My turn!”
But it was too wide, wobbling as she put it on.
The scowling man took the shoe back, “And what about the other boy? Or was he just a strangely realistic cutout?”
Metatron spluttered, “What? I assure you, there’s no one else in the house!!”
The ginger looked up the stairs, making eye contact with Ashtiel,
“Hey! You can come down now.”
Ashstiel’s eyes widened, but he made his way down, trying not to look at his step-family as he went. The woman grabbed the shoe off the man, holding it out, “Here, try it on.”
Ashtiel took it cautiously as Ruby said, “This is a waste of time. He’s obviously not going to-”
He slipped on the shoe, a perfect fit, and brought out the other one from his pocket. When the clock had struck, everything the Fairy Godmother had given him had vanished, except for the shoe, he didn’t know why.
The man smirked at Ruby, looking extremely smug for someone Ashstiel had never met before, “You were saying?”
Once Metarton and his children calmed down a bit, the two- Crowley and Charlie- had taken Ashtiel to the palace, where, waiting on the steps was Prince Dean. He stood up as the carriage approached, and ran up as Cas got out. He looked at him as if he couldn’t see the ragged clothes and the smudges of dirt on him,
“I thought we wouldn’t find you!”
Cas looked down, “I thought you wouldn’t look…”
Dean shook his head, “Never.” Tilting Cas’ head up, he kissed him AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.
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(credits: "the woman with the candle (detail)" by cornelius visscher ii / frigoris "... in stille" album art / safia elhillo, from spring / battle of fort donelson, lithograph by kurz & allison / "unidentified soldier in union corporal's uniform [...]" from "the last full measure" exhibit @ library of congress / soldiers on the canadian river [...] from oklahoma historical society / bilal al-shams, "sacrifice" / random pin / "flowers in my lungs" by amanda cowan / [needs title] by muhamed elkotby)
who is this son of a bitch
name: first sergeant cole sullivan, u.s. army cavalry 10th regiment (he will say the entire thing every time he introduces himself)
what is he in: #doom metal love story! he's our protagonist.
alias/nicknames: best friend calls him "kentucky"; lover has a whole bunch of nicknames for him
d.o.b.: july 31, 1835 (37 in 1872, 38 when he dies in 1874)
from: an irish catholic immigrant family in lexington, kentucky
personality: sincere, rigid, optimistic, courageous, blunt, patient, funny
physical appearance:
not unlike this mf:
19th-century tall
graying brown hair, graying red beard
battle scars
got-pushed-off-a-train scars
kinda cute
looks like he's never smiled a day in his life
looks hella uncomfortable w/o all his weapons & ish on
song:
so what's his situation:
brought up in irish catholic immigrant family
only child
father found out he was homosexual
tl;dr sullivan ran away from home & joined the army @ 15-16
v committed to his job, to treating horses with respect, and to remaining on the mortal coil
known his best friend (surgeon-major erik hofer) since 1861
met his lover (arthur royston) in 1872 when royston got himself poisoned before a saloon shoot-out (see september 1872)
caught in a time loop because he is technically an npc in another character's story
i can explain:
the first draft of the novel was 1/3 as long and it SUCKED
he wanted the chance to make things better with his stupid boyfriend + bring folks to justice who deserved to be brought to justice + stop the end of the world without having to sacrifice anybody
i was like "sorry buddy you're a literary device i can't do that i already wrote 'the end'"
and he wouldn't stop bothering me about it
so i was like "ugh fine you can change the whole fucking narrative sullivan you're the main character in my heart"
now here we are with a 600-page novel and i have to write two more bc he's a stubborn mf who's willing to [spoilers] in furtherance of bullet point #2
that's him that's my protagonist bye <3
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what music/games do you all listen to
Doc here. The rest of the crew is out on operations and Carl is in surgery for the fifth time this year, so I'll answer you. Sorry 'bout the delay.
Mistral likes Arch Enemy a lot. I didn't really take her for a death metal gal, but hey, what do I know. She listens to a lot of New Wave, too. She LOVES Blondie and got me and the guys (except Sundowner) into Joy Division. Mistral also listens to a lot of film scores to wind down, especially Gladiator and Blade Runner.
As for games, I know she's a big fan of older action games, the older Resident Evils, Quake and Doom and whatnot. Talks a lot of shit in fps forums.
Monsoon is...something. Handing him the aux when we go out is like a game of auditory Russian roulette. He could put on some Ros Sereysothea from when he was a kid. He could play nothing but Die Antwoord. He could play 70's Queen. He could play incoherent electronic sounds until you scream at him.
He's the biggest gamer out of all of us, his favorites are DMC and Bayonetta. He's competing in the Wii Taser Boxing tournament with Sundowner and I now, and if he wins, we'll be hearing about it for the next six months.
Sundowner is a simple man. He likes rock, country, and that's about it. We have a lot of the same taste in country artists, we grew up on Cash, Nelson, Jennings, and, as much as he'll deny it, he'd take a bullet for Dolly Parton. Sadly, with the exception of Lynyrd Skynyrd and Motörhead, his taste in rock is a bag of hot shit. Once I tried to tell him Five Finger Death Punch is for angry alcoholics with erectile dysfunction and he just yelled "HELL YEAH BROTHER" and cranked it louder.
He isn't really a video game guy. The only video game he plays is Wii Sports, and he only plays it because I challenged him.
Sam, interestingly enough, likes grunge and 80's rock. Some of his favorite bands are Van Halen, Foo Fighters, and Iron Maiden. He can sing almost every Black Sabbath song in Portuguese. He's been trying to learn Eruption on guitar. Once we were out drinking and he somehow managed to play it flawlessly on some kid's ukulele. I guess beer gives him guitarist powers. Oh, and he loves Shakira. No matter where he is, if you put her on, he will drop everything and get up to dance. Flawlessly.
Sam's our second biggest gamer. He's a fighting game guy. I still can't beat him at Mortal Kombat or Guilty Gear. He could probably thrash me with his eyes shut, too. Maybe I'm too old for this shit.
Intern Carl probably listens to Imagine Dragons or some dumb shit like that. Probably plays Tetris on his stupid little phone.
I listen to a lot of country, I also had a buddy back at ArmsTech who got me into industrial music. We used to swap cassettes while we worked, I'd listen to his mix while he'd listen to my Merle tape. I hope he's doing well.
I haven't gamed much. I remember liking Half Life a lot when I was younger. Had a coworker who's last name was Freeman, so I used to mess with him, talking to him in an awful G-Man impression...miss that guy.
That should answer your question. Sorry again about the wait; Desperados stay pretty busy.
- 🩹
#mgrr#mgr#winds of destruction#metal gear rising revengeance#rp blog#metal gear memes#metal gear rising#desperado enforcement#monsoon mgr#sundowner mgr#mistral mgr#jetstream sam#mgr oc
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I am sorry to contradict those who think that Buck will come out as bisexual and that he will have a boyfriend who is not going to be Eddie, I don't think the writers will go that far knowing that Buddie has a very powerful and strong fandom, playing with fire could be a suicide, and even more with a series that was undisputed audience leader. If Buck is bi, his boyfriend's name will be Eddie Diaz.
And honestly, if there has to be a LGBT couple, MUST be Buck/Eddie, to me Hen and Karen are too boring as a couple, even if Hen is one of my favorite characters, her friendship with Chimney contributes more to the series than her relationship with Karen.
BTW a Station 19 Diane Lewis cameo in 911 would be fun, same actress, different character and series, do we know Karen's maiden name? It could be Lewis and she could be Diane's twin sister.
The Diane Lewis cameo would be great. She could help Buddie somehow. And all the other characters who have trauma they need to get through.
I also agree about Henren. They are a little boring as well. They really need a better storyline too.
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Loser here (Deftones enjoyer) what do you think Jason Would listen to? I saw somebody else on here say he’s a Linkin Park guy but idk enough to confirm nor deny that hc.
i’m big on historical accuracy when it comes to my character playlists! we see jason from 1983-1988 as robin, so that has a lot to do with my hc!
growing up with catherine, i believe that he didn’t hear much music except for what was on the radio and his moms small collection of vinyls from when she was a teen. i’ve firmly placed catherine as a rockabilly (sorry), so i’m talking Buddy Holly, Eddie Cochran, Wanda Jackson, Elvis, Jerry Lee Lewis, etc. He grew up listening to Buddy Holly and Wanda Jackson’s self titled albums on an old record player.
however these were lost after his mom died. he was too busy trying to survive on the streets to care much for music, but once he gets adopted he gets really into it. it’s also a way to connect with his peers at school (i have on good authority what posh boys in the 80s listened to). people talk a lot about Jason loving books but to me he had a vinyl collection as well. Metallica, AC/DC, ELO, Queen, Accept, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Megadeath, as well as some rockabilly influence with the Stray Cats, the Cramps, the Romantics, and Red Rockers. lots of rock and heavy metal.
but then, oopsies! the boy got sploded. And then got resurrected! He shows back up in 2005 which is just around the time for Linkin Park! However I don’t think he had much time for music. Too busy kicking ass and taking names etc etc. My guy does NOT have a Spotify account! Just very much a “whatever’s on the radio” kinda guy. Definitely tunes in to the rap or rock station though. TRAP 93.5: Gotham’s best rap radio!
#just to be clear I have nothing *against* deftones they’re just not jason.#jason todd#asks#dc#dc comics#red hood
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Idol Profile (AU)
________________________________________
"Whoops sorry to say this but~ I think you've gotten bewitched to my voice. But hey! This song has just started!"
(AU Belongs to @rosietrace and @starry-night-rose, members tagging: @fumikomiyasaki @nem0-nee @authoruio @windbornearchon @twsted-princess @hades-eternal and @oseathepebble)
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-Main Profile-
Idol Name: Mystix 💮
Birth Name: Lynette Mitchell
Position: Main Guitarist and Vocalist
Age: 16
Birthday: 2/26
Zodiac Sign: Pisces
Height: 159 cm (5'2")
Blood Type: O
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-Fun Facts-
Favourite Food: Spicy Food, Fried Rice, and Anything she can cook
Least Favourite Food: Sourness, Stale Food, and Anything Hard to Chew
Favourite Artists: Jubyphonic, Mafumafu, OR30, and Blackpink
Likes: Cooking, Relaxing, Guitar Playing, and Dancing to the Rhythm
Dislikes: Noisy Places, Kiara's Slight Remarks, Feeling Uneasy, and Losing Sleep
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-Relationships-
Quinn: Respectful but is sometimes annoyed by his antics
Marleigh: Is respectful to her slightly
Kiara: Slight Good/Cooperative Terms but leads to some bickering
Amelia: Friendly and Casual
{ (Co)-connect } Group: Admires them and their performance.
[Monstroc!ty] Group: Likes their music a lot.
{ Solariz } Group: Also admires them too.
{ Quartz }: Also likes her alongside with her aesthetics.
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-Info-
V/A (Not Singing): Tomosa Murata (Japanese), Erika Harlacher (English)
Voice Claim Singing: Rose-Blackpink (JP or KN), Jubyphonic (EN)
Is the main guitarist and vocalist within the group called 'Diamontri'. Whose family runs an Chinese restaurant across the street.
To others that this girl can, she can cheeky but sweet. Lynette is respectful friendly thanks to her work at her family's restaurant.
Has a strong vocal cords during her pitches, high possible for a high note during her performances and is also precise at her dancing thanks to her speed.
Has a pretty tight schedule.
Her merchandise is a Sakura pillow themed and a white fox onesie.
Is also good at being a guitarist and vocalist, like her admired idols, she too has Twitter and YouTube account. She too is also a Vtuber too and is called 'Volpie'.(Volpie is a cherry blossom spirit who turned into a shrine maiden, ever since she now can live eternity)
Does her reactions video on { (Co)-connect }, [Monstroc!ty], { Solariz }, and { Quartz } during her Vtuber streams.
Knows how to cook thanks to her family. Apparently cooks for her manager and buddies.
Is annoyed with Quinn(Her Boss/Manager) but she can manage, but there are days she alongside with Kiara and Amelia would beat him to his place.
Has her daily bickering with Kiara but there are days that Amelia would stop them. It seen as a daily life between the three.
Tends to handle Marleigh(The Group's Designer) fashion ideas from time to time.
Was previously with her ex friend, but got backstabbed. Right now Lynette heard that her ex got into a scandal but isn't aware of it.
Is the 'Cooking' mom within her group sadly XD.
--------------------------------------
:3 my foxie is here-
#mc#oc#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#gacha club#gacha games#lynette mitchell#lynn#idol au#au bio
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Teenage Dirtbag - JJ Maybank
Her name is Noelle
I have a dream about her
She rings my bell
I got gym class in half an hour
Oh, how she rocks
In Keds and tube socks
But she doesn't know who I am
And she doesn't give a damn about me
JJ woke up to the sound of his phone dinging loudly beside his head. HE opened his phone to find texts from John B.
J, the girls are joining us in gym class today. You better get here quickly if you want to see your girl. ;)
JJ let out a groan. He had literally JUST been dreaming about the day she actually knows he exists.
Thanks for the heads up JB. Be there soon.
He ran in at the last minute after parking his bike and almost ran into John B. “Woah, slow down there J. You’ve got two minutes left. You a little eager to see her?” he teased. JJ just rolled his eyes and went to put his bag in the locker room. He looked at himself in the mirror and cringed. He quickly rinsed off his face and ran his wet hands through his hair to try to tame it. He looks up again, shrugs, and then goes to meet John B. “Gentlemen!” you hear your gym coach yell. “We will be changing things up today! The ladies’ gym teacher had a family emergency so they will be joining us here in a few minutes and we will be doing a weight circuit today. Now, let’s start with some sit ups as a warm up.” The class of boys began their sit ups as they waited for the girls to join. When they got done, the girls locker room door swung open.. A couple of girls walked out and then he saw her. She was in a pink Iron Maiden t-shirt, black shorts, Black tube socks, and white Keds. Her long, curly brown hair in a ponytail secured with a white ribbon. She walked out, laughing at something one of her classmates said and JJ had never seen or heard anything more beautiful. “Alright ladies, please have a seat. We will go through the rules and expectations for today and then you’ll be on your way.” The girls sat down and JJ couldn’t help but watch as she sat crossed legged on the floor with her elbow on her knee and her fist tucked under her chin. Her blue eyes watched the teacher attentively. “...five times. Alright everyone, partner up and let’s get started!” JJ zoned back in and started walking toward her to ask her to be his partner. “Hey Noelle!” she turned toward him. “Hi! What’s up?” “Love your shirt! Iron Maiden is one of my favorite bands!” “Wait really? Mine too!” she replied. “Do you maybe want to partner up.. with me?” JJ asked. The girl blushed. “Actually, Dave already asked me. Sorry!” she said as she turned to go join him.
Her boyfriend's a dick
And he brings a gun to school
And he'd simply kick
My ass if he knew the truth
He lives on my block
And he drives an IROC
But he doesn't know who I am
And he doesn't give a damn about me
JJ knew about Dave. He used to live down the block from Luke and JJ until his dad got remarried to some kook and he moved to Figure Eight. His dad and stepmom got him an IROC for his sixteenth birthday. He always drove it around the Cut just to show it off. He played on the football team and could probably take JJ down with one punch. Especially if he knew he had a thing for Noelle. He was super protective of her and they were the newest power couple since Topper and Sarah broke up. As JJ was halfway through the workout when he stopped to go to the bathroom. “.. yeah dude. It’s my dads but he said I could use it for target practice.” he heard Dave say to his buddies. JJ peeked around the corner and saw him showing his buddies a pistol. JJ walked to the sink to wash his hands and glanced through the mirror at them. “Hey dirtbag. What are you looking at?” Dave asked as he slipped the gun back into his bag. JJ turned around. “Nothing. How are you Dave?” He looked confused. “Do I know you? Pretty sure I don’t know you. But I will track you down if you tell anyone what you just saw.” JJ just nodded his head as the group of boys walked away.
Man, I feel like mold
It's prom night and I am lonely
Lo and behold
She's walking over to me
This must be fake
My lip starts to shake
How does she know who I am?
And why does she give a damn about me
I've got two tickets to Iron Maiden, baby
Come with me Friday, don't say "maybe"
I'm just a teenage dirtbag, baby, like you
JJ looked himself over once more as soon as Sarah was done tying his tie. “ Are you sure this looks okay? And are you sure you’re okay with me third wheeling with you?” JJ asked her. “Of course we don’t mind J. Maybe you won’t be with us all night and you’ll get Noelle to dance with you.” JB said. JJ shrugged. “Probably not since she has Dave. And Dave thinks I’m a dirtbag so there’s no way I’ll be able to steal her away.” he shrugged. “Let’s go get this over with.” He said as he walked to the van with John B and Sarah.
The group walked into the gymnasium and there was a DJ and lots of flashing lights and flashy decorations. The bleachers on one side of the gym were out for people to sit on. JJ went straight to the snack table and stood there as Sarah and John B went straight to the dance floor to meet up with Kie and Pope. JJ’s eyes scanned the crowd and finally landed on Noelle. She was wearing a beautiful figure hugging pink sequin dress. It was a spaghetti strap dress that had a slit up the right leg and an open panel on the right side just above her underwear line that showed off her beautifully tanned skin. JJ already thought she was stunning but the dress definitely accentuated that thought in his head. After grabbing some punch, JJ walked to the bleachers to sit and watch his friends have fun, and secretly watch Noelle dance.
A little while later, JJ didn’t see Noelle anywhere so he got up to join his friends and talk for a few songs. JJ’s back was to the entrance of the gym and he was having fun talking to his group of friends. “Umm.. J?” Sarah said, grabbing his attention. “Yeah?” “Look behind you.. incoming.” JJ turned around to see Noelle walking toward him making direct eye contact with him. “Hey JJ.” she said. “H-Hi Noelle. Wait. You know who I am?” JJ said as he wiped his sweaty palms on his dress pants and tried to stop his lips from trembling. “Of course I do! You’re JJ Maybank, the hottest Pogue on the island. So anyway... I have two tickets to the Iron Maiden concert Friday that I got as a gift and I was wondering if you would go with me?” she asked him. “Wait what about Dave? Shouldn’t he be going with you? I’m just the dirtbag from the Cut.” she smiled. “Dave and I broke up last week. I found out he brought a gun to school and freaked. I dumped him that night. Also, I’m from the Cut too so I guess we’re both dirtbags.” she replied. “Oh. But you still came to Prom together?” he questioned. We already had matching outfits and with it being a week out, it was too late to find dates, so we came as friends. So you up for it?” she asked. “Umm..” She cut him off, “Don’t you dare say ‘maybe’. I need a straight answer.” “Yeah! Sounds like fun!” “Cool. It’s a date! Let me put my number in your phone really fast so I can send you my address. Pick me up at 6.” she said. JJ pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. She added her contact info and then handed him the phone. “See you Friday handsome.” She stated as she landed a kiss on his cheek and turned to leave. JJ stood there stunned as he walked away until his friends all huddled around him cheering and hugging him. JJ spent the rest of the night with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. He finally got the girl.
Tag List: @pankowforlife @wannabestarkeysgirl @my-baexht-ls @bethoconnor @samxslaughter @tishanas-darlings @jjmaybank63 @outerbankspov @slutforsmutsstuff @hoebx @adventuresinobx
#jj maybank#outer banks#obx#outer banks imagine#outer banks fic#obx fic#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank fanfiction
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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
#I can't believe I actually wrote all my fantasies down in this fic#I can't BELIEVE that it's 16k long so sorry guys but I had SO MUCH FUN writing this that it only took me 3 days??? to finish all of this#so if it's shitty i'm sorry#not sure if i should continue this or leave it as a one-shot thing#this is just FILTH you guys#I'm taking a break for REAL this time I just wanted to give you an early present before the new year starts#HAPPY NEW YEAR YOU GUYS I LOVE YOU ALL#haechan#lee haechan#lee donghyuck#nct#nct 127#nct u#nct dream#haechan blurbs#haechan smut#haechan fluff#haechan drabbles#haechan timestamps#nct smut#nct fluff#haechan imagines#haechan scenarios#haechan x reader#nct x reader#mark lee x reader#mark lee smut#mark lee#nct imagines#nct scenarios
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Daughter of the Sea - Chapter 1
Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist
(Y/n) stands in the kitchen of her mother and step-father's apartment, making the bean dip Smelly Gabe liked so much.
(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the counter but then she lets out a yelp as something hits her in between her shoulder blades.
"Hurry it up, girl!" Smelly Gabe snarls.
"Yes sir," (Y/n) murmurs.
A few minutes later, Gabe stalks into the kitchen, takes the dip without so much of a thank you.
(Y/n) fixes her gaze on the shoe on the ground before she moves to her room. She climbs into her bed, getting under her covers. (Y/n) turns, facing the wall.
She closes her eyes, falling to an uneasy sleep.
(Y/n) watches, disconnected from the others in the dream, as one of her brother's teachers turns into something that reminded her of a demon, or something similar that she'd read books about. The woman had bat wings, claws, and a mouth of yellow fangs.
Then (Y/n) looks around, her eyes widening in shock as she sees her brother holding a bronze sword.
Percy swings the sword, the demon exploding into yellow powder, vaporizing on the spot.
A hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder has (Y/n) jolting awake. "Honey? Are you okay?" Sally Jackson asks.
Catching the wide-eyed look of horror on (Y/n)'s face, Sally wraps her daughter in a hug.
(Y/n)'s breathing steadies, and she breathes in her mother's familiar scent - chocolate, licorice, and all the other things she sold at the candy shop in Grand Central Station.
"Did you get all your work done?" Sally asks softly, her thumb brushing over a slightly visible bruise that had appeared at the base of the back of her neck.
(Y/n) hums in reply.
. . .
The next day, (Y/n) is once again lying in her bed, not wanting to have to deal with Gabe throwing more shoes or glass bottles at / near her.
. . .
Percy walks into the apartment, dragging his suitcase behind him, hoping his mom would be home from work. Instead, Smelly Gabe is in the living room, playing poker with his buddies. The television blares ESPN; chips and beer cans are strewn all over the carpet.
Hardly looking up, he says around his cigar, "So, you're home."
"Where's my mom? (Y/n)?"
"Mom's working," Gabe says. "The girl's in her room. You got any cash?"
"That's it. No Welcome back. Good to see you. How has your life been the last six months?
Gabe had put on weight since the last time Percy had seen him. Gabe looked like a tuskless walrus in thrift-store clothes. He has about three hairs on his head, all combed over his bald scalp.
"I don't have any cash," Percy replies.
Gabe raises a greasy eyebrow. Gabe could sniff out money like a bloodhound, which is surprising, since his own smell should've covered up everything else.
"You took a taxi from the bus station," he says. "Probably paid with a twenty. Got six, seven bucks in change. Somebody expects to live under this roof, he ought to carry his own weight. Am I right, Eddie?"
Eddie, the super of the apartment building, looks at Percy with a twinge of sympathy. "Come on, Gabe," he says. The guy just got here."
"Am I right?" Gabe repeats.
Eddie scowls into his bowl of pretzels. The two other guys pass gas in harmony.
"Fine," Percy says. He digs a wad of dollars out of his pocket and throws the money on the table. "I hope you lose."
"Your report card came, brain boy!" He shouts back at Percy. "I wouldn't act so snooty!"
Percy slams the door to his room, which isn't really his room. During school months, it is Gabe's 'study.' He doesn't study anything in there except old car magazines, but he loves shoving his stuff in Percy's closet, leaving his muddy boots on the windowsill, and doing his best to make the place smell like his nasty cologne, cigars, and stale beer.
Percy drops his suitcase on the bed. Home sweet home he thinks.
Gabe's smell is almost worse than the nightmares about Mrs. Dodds, or the sound of that old fruit lady's shears snipping the yarn.
Percy sits, lost in his thoughts.
Then he hears his mom's voice, "Percy?" She opens the bedroom door, and his fears melt. "Oh, Percy," she hugs him tight. "I can't believe it. You've grown since Christmas."
Sally had brought Percy a bag of 'free samples' the way she always did whenever he'd come home.
The two sit together on the bed. While Percy attacks the blueberry sour strings, she runs her hands through his hair, demanding to know everything that he hadn't put in his letters. She doesn't mention his getting expelled. She doesn't seem to care about that.
Percy tells his mother that she is smothering him, but secretly, Percy is really, really glad to see her.
From the other room, Gabe yells, "Hey, Sally - how about some bean dip, huh?"
Percy grits his teeth. My mom is the nicest lady in the world. She should be married to a millionaire, not to some jerk like Gabe.
(Y/n) pads into Percy's room, and the dark haired boy brightens at the sight of his younger twin.
"I've got the dip, Mom," (Y/n) says softly. Sally gazes at her daughter for a moment, her gaze sad.
"Wait, (Y/n)," Sally says, and (Y/n) turns back to face her mother. "I've got a surprise for the two of you," she says. "We're going to the beach."
Percy's eyes widen. "Montauk?"
"Three nights - same cabin," Sally replies.
"When?" (Y/n) asks, looking excited.
She smiles, "As soon as I get changed."
(Y/n) can't believe it. Mom, Percy, and I hadn't been to Montauk in the last two summers because Gabe had said that there wasn't enough money.
Gabe appears in the doorway behind (Y/n) and growls, "Bean dip, Sally? Didn't you hear me?"
Percy wants to punch him, but he meets his mother's eyes, and understands that she is offering him a deal: Be nice to Gabe for a little while; just until she's ready to leave for Montauk.
"I've got it, Gabe," (Y/n) says.
"Sorry, honey," Sally says, looking at her husband. "We were just talking about the trip."
Gabe's eyes get small. "The trip? You mean you were serious about that?"
"I knew it," Percy mutters. "He won't let us go."
"Of course he will," Sally says evenly. "Your stepfather is just worried about money."
(Y/n) turns to face Gabe, smiling as kindly as she could. "What if I make a seven-layer dip that'll last the whole weekend?" she asks. "Guacamole. Sour cream. The works."
Gabe softens a bit, then turns back to face Sally. "So, this money for your trip . . . it comes out of your clothes budget, right?"
"Yes, honey," Sally replies.
"And you won't take my car anywhere but there and back."
"We'll be very careful."
Gabe scratches his double chin. "Maybe if the girl hurries up with the seven-layer dip . . . and if the boy apologizes for interrupting my poker game."
Maybe if I kick you in your soft spot, Percy thinks. And make you sing soprano for a week.
"I'm sorry," Percy mutters. "I'm really sorry I interrupted your incredibly important power game. Please go back to it right now."
Gabe's eyes narrow. His tiny brain is probably trying to detect the sarcasm in my statement, Percy thinks.
"Yeah, whatever," Gabe decides; he goes back to his game.
"Thank you, Percy," Sally says. "Once we get to Montauk, we'll talk more about...whatever you've forgotten to tell me, okay?"
For a moment, (Y/n) can see anxiety in her mother's eyes, but then her smile returns, and (Y/n) figures that she must've been mistaken.
. . .
An hour later, the three are ready to leave.
Gabe takes a break from his poker game long enough to watch (Y/n) and Percy lug the bags to his car. He keeps griping and groaning about losing her and (Y/n)'s cooking - and more important, his '78 Camaro - for the whole weekend.
"Not a scratch on this car, brain boy," Gabe warns Percy as he loads the last bag into the car. "Not one little scratch."
Like I'd be the one driving. I'm fourteen, Percy thinks.
Watching Gabe lumbers back towards the apartment building, Percy gets so mad that he does something he can't explain. As Gabe reaches the door, Percy makes the hand gesture he'd seen Grover made on the bus, a soft of warding-off-evil gesture, a clawed hand over his heart, then a shoving movement towards Gabe. The screen door slams so hard it whacks him the the butt and sends him flying up the staircase as if he'd been shot from a cannon.
. . .
(Y/n)'s POV
Our rental cabin is on the south shore, way out at the tip of Long Island. It is a little pastel box with faded curtains, half sunken into the dunes. There's always sand in the sheets, spiders in the cabinets, and most of the time the sea is too cold to swim in.
I loved the place.
Mom, Percy, and I had been going ever since Percy and I'd been a baby. Mom had been coming even longer. She'd never exactly said, but I know why the beach was special to her.
It's the place where she'd met my Dad.
As we get closer to Montauk, Mom seems to grow younger, years of worry and work disappearing from her face. Her eyes turn the color of the sea.
We get there around sunset, open all the cabin's windows, and go through the usual cleaning routine.
Mom, Percy, and I walk on the beach, feed blue corn-chips to the seagulls, and munch on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy, and all the other free samples Mom had brought home from work.
I guess maybe I should explain all the blue food.
Gabe had once told Mom that there was no such thing. They had had this fight, which had seemed like a really small think at the time, but ever since, Mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes, mixed blueberry smoothies, bought blue-corn tortilla chips, and brought home blue candy from the shop. This - along with keeping her maiden name, Jackson, rather than calling herself Mrs. Ugliano - is proof that she isn't totally suckered by Gabe. She did have a rebellious streak, just like Percy.
When it gets dark, we make a fire. We roast hot dogs and marshmallows. Mom tells Percy and me stories about when she was a kid, back before her parents had died in the plane crash. She tells us about the books she wanted to write someday, when she had enough money to quit the candy shop.
Eventually, it seems that Percy gets the nerve to ask about what is always on our minds whenever we come to Montauk - our father. Mom's eyes go all misty. I figure she would tell us the same things she always did, but neither Percy or I ever got tired of hearing them.
"He was kind, Percy," Mom replies. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle too, like you, (Y/n)." Mom says and I soften. "You have his black hair, Percy, and you both share his green eyes.
Mom fishes a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you two. He would be so proud."
I wonder how she could say that when I'm the girl who cowers from her stepfather. The girl who hides in her room to get away from said stepfather.
"How old were we?" Percy asks, pulling me from my thoughts. "I mean . . . when he left?"
Mom watches the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."
"But . . . he knew us as babies."
"No, honey," Mom replies. "He knew I was expecting twins, but he never met you. He had to leave before you were born."
I try to square that with the fact that I seem to remember . . . something about my father. A warm glow, maybe a smile.
Percy and I had always assumed that our father had known us as babies. Mom had never said it outright, but still, I'd felt that it must be true. Now, to be told that he'd never even seen us . . .
I feel angry at my father. Maybe it is stupid, but I resent him for going on that ocean voyage, for not having the guts to marry Mom.
"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy asks. "To another boarding school?"
Mom pulls a marshmallow from the fire.
"I don't know, honey," her voice is heavy. "I think . . . I think we'll have to do something."
"Because you don't want me around?" Percy says and I flinch, avoiding both his and Mom's gazes.
I glance up to see that Mom's eyes had welled up with tears. "Oh, Percy, no. I - I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away."
"But you never send her away," Percy says and I look up, eyes wide with surprise.
Mom looks at Percy, eyes wide with shock.
Finally she says, "I have to keep both of you away from each other as much as possible. I thought you'd finally be safe."
"I tried to keep you as close to me as I could," Mom says. "They told me it was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy, (Y/n) - the place your father wanted to send you two. And I just . . . I just can't stand to do it."
"Our father wanted us to go to a special school?" I ask.
"Not a school," Mom replies. "A summer camp."
My head spins. Why would my dad - who hadn't even stayed around to see me and Percy be born - talk to Mom about a summer camp?
"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," Mom says, seeing the look in my eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I - I couldn't send you two to that place. It might mean saying goodbye to you for good."
"For good?" Percy asks. "But if it's only a summer camp . . ."
Mom turns towards the fire, and I know from her expression, that if we asked any more questions, she would start to cry.
Word Count: 2413 words
#annabeth chase x female reader#annabeth chase x fem reader#annabeth chase x reader#percy jackson and the olympians#heroes of olympus
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