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thatcanadianfangirl · 1 year

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JJ Maybank// Healing Takes Time Pt.2

JJ Maybank X Jade (Booker) Routledge

Plot: When Jade is all alone at the chateau falling asleep on the hottest night of the year she hears a loud noise that makes her skin crawl. She discovers JJ on the sofa after what seems like a run-in with the kooks again. With some reluctance he allows his best friend's Twin to patch him up. Falling apart in her clutch that night she discovers that the clash he experienced earlier was something deeper than just some lousy rich boy. He returns to her every time it occurs, he never talks and always leaves before Jade stirs away. That is until one day he does.

Word Count: 4.7k+

Disclaimer: Brother's bestfriend, slow burn, talks of domestic abuse, and mentions of underage drinking. minor writing errors even though this is edited.

{Part One}

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The excruciating heat from the summer sun had made sleep too uncomfortable to keep. Sweat began to latch onto every inch of my body like a second skin. I felt drowsy as my mind began pulling to the front again.

The empty space beside me still radiated warmth from the boy who occupied it last night. A strange feeling of lost overwhelmed me at the knowledge of JJ escaping while I was unconscious. But there also was a foreign and very pleasant emotion starting to plant its-self.

What the fuck is happening to me?

With a cat nap stretch I grasps the most ancient iPhone I've laid eyes on, but it was $500 dollars cheaper than a brand new one, I shouldn't be complaining. Three hours before my shift at the Pelican Yacht Club and another hour ahead of my alarm. Unfortunately there's no chance of me passing out again with the temperatures so high today.

With a heavy heart I scoured the house just incase JJ decided to relocate himself. Every room was completely vacant and there was no sign of life anywhere. John B still appeared to on hiatus and the concern began fluttering. That kid better have the decency to send me a text soon.

After a hot shower I still felt mentally exhausted from the night I had with JJ. It shattered my heart to see him that vulnerable, that broken. I want that prick to drown himself six-hundred feet under the sea. Jay wasn't anything close to perfect but he definitely didn't deserve to be beaten by the one person who was suppose to protect him.

I hoped that blonde boy didn't escape back home to that sorry excuse of a man he was forced to call dad. My throat tightened and it was hard to contain the burning tears.

I took my time preparing myself. I wasn't a fan of your every day kook but with the pay my promotion brought just about made up for it.

Capturing my Jeep keys, I made my way out of the Chateau and through the porch. The yard was Pogue-less and the Twinkie was not in her original spot. Where the hell was my brother? Although my day would go a lot more seamless if I knew where he was. I'm still passive-aggressive towards him for leaving me in that damned place alone.

With the spare time and extra cash I had I was able to grab a bite to eat and hit up the gas station. I really needed to get mobile minutes and fill up the Jeep for the rest of the week.

----

I was relived to be sitting at the reception desk in the cool air conditioned building. Watching a few others from the cut maintaining and fuel up various boats out on the docks. A job I had last year and frankly didn't miss for a single second. Taking this job serious was the best decision I've made in my entire life.

Through the glass door I could see a familiar SUV pulling up front. I spotted Kiara, another friend of my twin brother. She rounded the rear and started for the front doors. I consider Kie a friend of mine as well, she often pulled me along with them. Always mentioning how nice it was to have another girl around to balance out that intoxication masculine energy.

"Good evening, Miss Carrera. Is there anything I help you with today?" I announced in my service voice once she walked through the doors. She flashed me a mischievous grin and I swore I could giggle at the sight.

Kiara wore a vibrant and suitable outfit for the hot weather. She always had such a fun style making me yearn for a body I didn't have. I loved my curves but the hope for Kiara donating to my empty closet was almost comparable. It was hard to find cute discounted or thrifted clothing in my size.

"Yes, Miss Routledge I need the Carrera's Princess y72 fueled and prepped for an evening trip to the mainland." She held an elegant tone and straighten her posture as she addressed me.

I forced a laugh down and continued to play along with our ruse. "Not a problem, It'll be ready for 3:00pm. How does that sound?"

"That simply will not do." She shook her head and both of her front braids followed. "Did you not hear me? I said evening trip." I almost chocked sensing how much she struggled to keep the kook behavior.

"My apologies Miss Carrera. How does 5:00pm sound instead." I offered,

"Yes, why couldn't you just get it right the first time?" she pawed the air in displeasure.

It took two seconds before we fell into a fit of laughter so hard it began to hurt. Her dark skin starting to turn pink as she gasped for air and it only made me laugh harder.

The clearing of ones voice had me swallowing down the ounce of happiness I had today. Fear washed over me as I spotted my boss Pike, standing a few feet away. Arms crossed over his lean chest as he analyzed the scene before him.

"Sorry, sir." I croaked.

He approached the reception desk and leaned his body weight against it. With firm green eyes he stared me down. At the tense anticipation I prepared myself for a scolding. A small one, but a scolding nonetheless.

Glancing at Kiara I could have sworn her eyes almost rolled out of their sockets. I opened my mouth to investigate my punishment but nothing came out.

"Loosen up kid." He breaks into humorous smile. "You dedicated so much to this company and as long as you're doing your job I don't care who comes to visit you during your shift." He shrugs nonchalantly.

The sword above my head vanished into thin air and my lungs began filling back up with oxygen again. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that. I was worried you were fed up with me." I say with a smile of appreciation.

"I could never be, just keep up the good work." He replies with a wink and a too friendly smile as he began retreating.

"As always." I speak over my shoulder watching his tall frame disappear behind the pristine blue wall. My presentable mannerism fleeting my being once my attention clung onto Kiara again.

"Now what were you going to ask me before you almost got me fired." I sassed and gave her a lighthearted glare.

She scoffs dramatically and says "If anything I pushed you closer to the manager position. Pike really seems to be impressed with your work ethic." Kiara's face softened and I couldn't help the proud smile spreading onto my lips at the adoration swirling in her brown eyes.

"Maybe," I shrug. "But it's a tinsey bit fetched considering I'm part-time for ten months out of the year." I say knowing this might be it for me.

"You'll get there, I promise." She says it like she too understood the hardships of living on the cut. As if she had to take bread from the clearance shelf and store it in the freezer. Or fill five dollar condition half way when it was a quarter way empty.

I could taste the bitterness trying to over take this tender moment I was sharing with Kie. I despised myself for every comparing my life against hers. Sure it was unfortunate I born into poverty, but it wasn't her fault she had all these advantages in life.

"I'll hold you to it." I tease lassoing back that buoyant atmosphere we held minutes ago.

"Good." She nods. Her heart is too big for this world.

"Now when do you get off work?" She asks innocently twirling one of her braids with her finger, "I think Seven, why? What do you have planned for tonight?" I asked cautiously. Last time she asked me this I got alcohol poisoning from a 'little' kegger as she put it. Those few days I've spent in the hospital wasn't exactly my idea of a good time.

"Don't worry it's nothing too crazy. We're going surfing tonight and I wanted you to come. I know you cant resist a good wave or two. Plus you can show us some of those tricks we can never get down."

My eyes caught movement through the glass doors again. Leaning against Kie's vehicle was none other than JJ himself. My breathe caught in my throat at seeing him for the first time since last night. He was wearing John's clothes telling me he hasn't gone home yet. His blonde hair was no longer matted in sweat and was now looking perfect again.

His eye looked swollen and I cursed that boy for not fetching something from the ice box. His sewn eyebrow was starting to purple. Despite his face, I found the guy so unbelievably attractive.

Kiara noticed my glance was lingering a little too long past her shoulder and trailed my gaze.

Shit!

She's about to discover that her best friend is the only one in a mile radius and blow the entire thing out of the water.

"Was that sew up job yours?"

"No, I haven't seen JJ since last week." I lied and instantly regretted it, Kiara knew I say him two days ago in my backyard. Circling the fire, roasting marshmallows and having a few light drinks.

A knowing glint sparkled in her eyes and she nodded her head. "Right." She finally says dragging the word on for decades. I shook my head in agreement but feeling guilty that I knew she knew I was lying through my damn teeth.

I had no clue why I was trying to keep the patch up job I did on JJ's face under wraps. I've done it a million times and none of them thought it was scandalous before, I've never shoved it under a rock before either. I didn't plan on hiding it, but I wanted to keep that vulnerable moment to myself. I'm not confident on who was aware of his fathers abuse and I wasn't going to crumble the sliver of trust he has with me.

"So whose all going to be there?" I asked reminding myself to wash my sins away later.

"The usually, John B, Pope, Sarah, me and...Jayj." She left Jay's name for last and I fucking knew it was trap, but I still looked past her and at the golden boy again. This will be at the top of the stupidest shit I've done and it's a long list. It didn't take a rocket scientist to understand he was avoiding eye contact with me. Understandable and yet it still pinched.

'I'll be ready by 7:30." I said not really having the energy for it, but I needed to get rid of her before she had the chance to question my odd behavior towards him.

Kie was quiet for a minute reading into my soul. "Okay. Not a minute later." Kiara finally declares starting to walk backwards, towards the automatic doors. The knowing glint that I was holding something back was still evident in her eyes.

I smile in agreement trying desperately to lock down the wariness that wanted to combust.

"I'll see you tonight, Surf Queen."

----

I'm completely wiped as I pull my green 1995 jeep Cherokee right beside the Twinkie. Cutting the engine I guided the stick shift into first gear and yanked the hand brake all the way up securing its parking spot.

Jumping out I winched as my feet hit the ground and the aching in my bones rattled up. The sight of my brother finally home had me forgetting all about the rage I was holding for him. He was surrounded by his friends, sharing the cheapest case of liquor Maybank could get his hands on and having the best time. My heart glowed at his found family. I

I stayed there awhile watching them before I announced my arrival. I admired the way they all could get lost in one another's company and not hear the loud engine of my jeep approaching.

I'm so drained from my shift, But I already promised Kie I'd tag along. I wasn't prepared to struck a crack into another friendship. The more time I spent with Kie the more I seen her as a real friend. And as much as I hated it, it was time to slip that mask on again.

"Holy shit Is that my twin brother as I live and breathe." I spoke loudly capturing everyone's attention. Almost all of them cheered for my appearance and it nearly felt like I was one of them.

If I wasn't the glorious JB's twin sister I wouldn't try so hard to distance myself. I'm my own person and I wanted to make it clear I was separate from my brother. I'm nothing like him or our father dropping everything to search for long forgotten treasure. It's extremely hard being a twin but it was absolutely brutal being a Routledge twin. Especially for one who didn't have her own circle of friend and trying to hijack one of his. Maybe I needed an animal companion or a boyfriend, probably both.

"Jade! I was wondering when you'd get your little butt down here." Pope hollers over with a giant welcoming grin. "I missed you too, Pope." I chuckled at his enthusiasm and returned a warm smile that didn't take up too much energy.

Pope is definitely someone you could hangout with after a long day of work and talk about the mysteries of the universe. He was loyal like the rest of them were and is always the one to knock sense into anyone who needed it.

Forcing my body onto the porch I engulfed John into a bone crushing embrace. He returned it and I clung on tighter to him. Being in his grasp felt like a warm bed and a home cooked meal. Coos and awes could be heard from the Pogues behind us murmuring something about sibling love.

"Please don't ever leave me in this house alone ever again. If you do I will sink a knife in all four tires on the Twinkie." I croaked into his chest.

Letting go me he grabbed each of my shoulders, "Did something happen last night?" He bursts out frantically, concern etched into his facial features.

on instinct my eyes drifted from his and focused on the blonde boy. It was only for a split second but JB caught it and looked back. I could skin myself alive if that were ever possible. Jay still refused to look at me and shrugged at what I assumed is an accusatory glare. His posture was lose as if he wasn't sporting my stitches on his eyebrow.

"I left the front door open." I started distracting him from his locked gaze, "A deer must've wandered in. It spooked me pretty bad." I said the first tale that floated into my brain.

"were you harmed?" John follows even the doubt swam in his eyes.

"No I-I managed to scare it out of the house." I stuttered,

"Well that explains why my floorboard was popped and the bat left in the hallway." JB notes humorously and that's when it dawned on me that I forgot about the damned bat.

How could I forgot? Oh right! There was a certain broken blonde boy crying in my arms last night.

"Yeah." I say guilty and nod my head weakly.

"I'm just glad you're okay." He says, petting my hair comfortably and I fought the urge to ask him why he cared, he's never here and I needed him in the long moments I thought someone broke in. But this wasn't the time to bring up how he's been a shitty brother lately. I wanted to savour this memory with him where he finally bothered care about me and I believed him.

"Let me get this straight." Pope says breaking the heartfelt aura. "Last night. You almost bashed a deer's brains in?" He finishes with a serious tone. It was so absurd that I struggled to keep a composed face.

"That's such a Routledge thing to do." Sarah comments, It almost caused me to shut down and call it day. I never confided in her about the twin conversation so I shouldn't be reacting to her comment the way I was.

"It's a very Jade thing to do in a dire situation." Kiara makes an effort to over shine her comment. She understood just how much I battled to accept that me and John were so much a like in too many ways to deny.

I gave her a grateful smile, thankful for her words. She tipped her head in acknowledgment "I'll be out in ten. I still need to grab my board from the shed." I mumbled heading into the house.

"Of course, take your time." Kiara replies gently,

"Me and JJ, are going to pack your board onto the Jeep for you." JB calls before I hear him barrel off the steps and almost trip and fumble to the ground. John is a good brother don't get me wrong but I missed him being around all the time.

I understood his determination to pick up dad's treasure map where he left off, it has been weeks since his disappearance. I miss the old guy like I lost every too, but I didn't ignore our situation to chase after a ghost ship. I'm the only one keeping us above water and I needed him to realize how much I craved for him to be my brother again. He's the only family I have left.

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Three vehicles and six boards later we arrived at the beach. Kiara and JJ in her SUV, me and Pope in my Jeep, the Greenie, and lastly Sarah and John in the Twinkie.

Strangely enough the beach was so scare we could all park together near the sand. It's hitting the golden hour an absolute stunning even to catch a few wave, so gorgeous that it wounded my soul to see it deserted

I knew pope was giving me an odd look as the others started uphauling their boards while I stayed in my seat. I admired the view I was able to experience in this point in time, absolutely breath taking. Ever since the day I rode my very first wave with the help of a certain golden retriever boy. I could hear the ocean wailing for me like a lost soulmate in the wind.

It has been a long time my first love.

"There everyone goes, leaving us behind..." Pope trails longingly,

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his dramatics. "All of you are always go go go, or too wrapped up in each other to just stop, and really enjoy the scenery around you that this earth has given us."

Being here with them gave me a knew found sense of home, like I wasn't just here living this life alone. I think it's time I let these pogues wiggle their way into being there for me. It'll take some time for me to allow them and get more comfortable with being in their presence more. But I'm willing to try for myself, for John, for the Pogues.

Pope is quiet weighing in my spoken thoughts, "You're right I really need to appreciate it a lot more, but right now isn't the time. It seems we're holding everyone up."

I whipped my head fast enough for it to strain and begin to throb in pain. A few feet away I spotted Kie with her board tucked under her one arm and resting against her hip. An expecting look displayed onto her soft features, behind her Sarah and John were beckoning me forward.

JJ was already at the shore line, the high tides crashing into his ankles. He stuck his gaze to the front of the Greenie. Wearing John's bright red shirt that had a white lobster on the chest confirming my suspicion of further injury. Jay was comfortable with his muscular build and it was unusual to find him sporting a shirt while surfing. He must be hiding from the others as well knowing they'd raise havoc at the new found information.

was I bad person for wanting him to really see me? look at me and acknowledge the night we shared? I knew the pain he faced and the time he needed to numb his trauma over. Maybe when he looked at me he was reliving it all again in a rush of conflicted emotion.

One look was all I craved. Just a tiny glance into those storming blue eyes.

"Are you ready?" Pope asks, gentle hopefulness danced in his dark brown eyes. It dawned on me then like a bucket of ice. They had thought I was going to leave like I've done a few times before. This time was different because I truly wanted to be here with them.

"Yeah, I'm ready, Pope." I say grateful for his patience,

Unclasping our boards, Pope jogged alongside me catching up with the rest of them. Soon he fell into step with John B, both of them rush towards their blonde counter part. Kiara and Sarah flanked me and it almost felt like they knew everything that happened last night. Waiting for me to spill but there was not a single thing to share. Nothing happened and I seemed to be reading into it too much.

"Are you okay? You seemed to be hesitating?" Kie asks as we reached the ocean kneeling onto our boards and paddling out. Entering the water gave me this soft security and had woken my sleeping muscles.

"Yeah." I said contently, "I was admiring how beautiful the ocean appeared in the golden hour."

"I love how you can just get lost in the nature around you. Finding the beauty in smallest of things," Sarah notes,

I shrug, " I was taught to appreciate what I was given." It wasn't a jab at their pedigree. It was more of we're different and that's not a terrible thing. They both hum understanding my words weren't malicious.

I felt complete in this moment, smiling at the both of them I could feel my mask breaking into pieces letting my true thoughts be known. It was a radiating feeling.

Looking behind me, the shore in the distance. I could sense we were at the perfect location to catch a few good waves. The others did too and halted their paddling and sat up onto their boards.

All six us stared at the wall of waves building and crashing just a few yards away. Rocking our boards once it rode out and reached past us.

"I love your bikini." Kie says, I look down at the old fading teal bikini. I got it at a thrift store two years ago and a few sizes too small. "You say that every time and you know damn well this is the only one I got." I say playfully and Kiara smiles giving me a wink.

Sarah shrugs, "Kie's right its so cute, but we should all go shopping for new ones. Like a girls day, god know we need it." She says poking her glance past us and we follow her gaze to see the boys barking at each other in deep tones and hyping themselves up.

We burst out laughing at how ridiculous they were being. Snapping their heads towards our laughter they glare teasingly, "What?!" They shout in unison, "What are you guys doing?" Kiara askes, "It looks very intimate." Sarah calls after.

It warmed my heart to JJ enjoying himself considering what he's been through in the last twenty-four hours. It nicked to know he could never be like that with me ever again.

"Our masculine chant." JB states,

"We need to level out the feminine vibe." Jay retorts aiming his words at me. I was stunned to say the least. It bent my heart and I swore that was the last time I ever helped him. it must've been written on my face because John reaches over and smacks him upside the head.

I coughed to over my laugh, but I couldn't help but feel like a fucking out cast again. Maybe letting them in wasn't the best idea.

"I didn't know your masculinity was so fragile, Jay." I spat,

"It's not!" He shot back desperately

"I'm catching the first wave." I blankly said, paddling for the wave. Behind me I could hear John giving JJ shit for treating me like some Kook whose fucking with his feelings.

My body took control catching the wave like I've done many times before. Everything with JJ and John forgotten like none of it happened and I was completely content with that. The adrenaline raced into my blood as I rode the wave with such perfect ease.

After padding back to my spot beside Kiara and Sarah, JJ went next. It was easy to detect that our surfing styles were similar. I would've loved that I replicated his style to the tee a year ago, but now it made me sick to my stomach.

"I've never noticed how you and JJ have the same style." Sarah comments and Kiara's attention snapped to me, I shrugged "JJ Taught me how to surf."

Sarah gave an amused look, "Really? I would've thought John B did." Kie laughs and I shook my head, "Nope." I popped the 'p' "The jackass was too busy laughing at me while I drowned."

"I was not!" John B yelled over catching our conversation,

"Keep telling yourself that buddy." Kie calls returning her attention back to our triangle. Pope snickers and John B squints his eyes at him," I would've taught her but Jayj was the better teacher."

"beside if John did teach me, I wouldn't be able to land a few of my tricks." I shrug,

"What happened between the two of you?' Sarah asks the one question I was dreading, But her eyes were hopeful and I truly wanted to be close friends with her.

"I'm wondering the same thing. We use to be good friends when we were younger, then one day he pulled away. Stopped hanging out with me and never shared anything with me. It was very cold turkey and so fucking strange."

"I'm sorry, that must've been confusing." She replies and I brush it off.

"Nothing I can do now." I say flatly. Noticing Kiara has been quiet I trailed my glace to her, a weak smile spread across her face and I could've sworn I saw guilt swirling in her brown eyes. She must know something that I didn't and I had the urge to dig deeper.

We stayed there for two more hours, surfing and showing off our technique. The sun was ready to disappear over the horizon and god was it gorgeous but it was time to bring it in.

Dragging our bodies near the shore I walked between the girls again. after a successful day session on the waves I felt emotionally and mentally full and healthy. It was as if the ocean had the ability to revive me.

"Are both of you still down to go bikini shopping?" Sarah askes,

"Yeah absolutely, Jade what about you?" Kie replies looking at me expectantly.

"Operation feminine energy is a go!" I shout to the rising moon. Both of them celebrate like they won a marathon, I join them and somehow feel like I'm apart of something outside of being a Routledge twin.

Ahead of us the boys give us weird looks and I couldn't careless, but the lingering glance from JJ had me conflicted. In his storm blue eyes I saw a flicker of regret and I found it hard to breathe.

I held a façade for Kiara and Sarah, but I felt utterly lost when it came to that boy. Carrying our boards back to the vehicles I tried to focus on our new found girl squad.

Pat two took so long because I changed quite a bit from the original piece and added over 1k words. I definitely restrained myself from writing more JJ it's just not time for them yet.

Part two took so long because I wanted to write more JJ, but it's not for it yet.

This is very slow burn and I truly wanted to write about what living on the cut was really like.

Thank you so much for reading It means the worlds you decided to read something I wrote. I love you.

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that-ari-blogger · 6 months

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How Phantom Pains Establishes Stakes

Phantom Pains is a beautiful song, and one of my favourites in the Stray Gods musical, and I'd like to delve into why. I've said before that what words are doing is more important than what's being said, because people can lie, but the plot and themes remain unchanged.

So what does Phantom Pains do? What do I mean by stakes here? Surely Grace's life is on the line, what more could you want?

Phantom Pains establishes what happens if Grace fails to bring the Gods into a healthier state of mind. It establishes why Grace's story has wider consequences on the rest of the world. Allow me to explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

The most obvious thing about this song is the visuals. The silhouettes of times gone by.

Étienne de Silhouette was a French politician in the 1950s who was notorious for his economic policies to the point where his name became synonymous with doing things cheaply. As such, when people would get a cheaper portrait of themselves, they would get it in the style of Silhouette.

Essentially, a silhouette isn't a real thing. It's a shadow, an echo of what was once, and might still be there, but it is a cheap copy, a fake. Apollo is lost in his memories, burdened by guilt and a whole lot of depression, but that's the problem. These memories are all consuming, but they aren't the real world. At least, they aren't the present he is actually living in.

"I have paths I like.

Smooth, paved in stone.

She got tired of our divide.

We weren't the same. Never the same."

I mentioned that this song sets up stakes, and this is the point where that happens. Calliope represents change, and Apollo couldn't do the same. The stakes are the paths these gods are walking. They are walking to their own destruction, because they know the way, and can't bring themselves to turn off it.

The style shifts here, and there's a point to that. It's becoming more real. Apollo is being confronted with what his path led to. It's loud, and its in his face. But it's still not tangible. He is still lost in the past, only now that past is telling him to leave it be.

The reality is then shifted again, into the actual light house.

And Apollo finally snaps back to the present, to reality, Grace has persuaded him to change, just slightly. Not into a different person, but to take a different action.

"Perhaps there is some change we can effect."

This song is showing the power of Grace's singing and musical power, specifically to heal this wound. If she doesn't the wound will remain open, but if she tries, she can at least make it less painful.

Ok, so I need to address the name of this song, because it's relevant. A phantom pain is often experienced by an amputee, and it is described as a sensation of the missing limb getting injured, and the mind feeling its absence.

This is setting up an anatomical metaphor that Stray Gods keeps using. It's not the main even, but it keeps coming up. For example, Athena is the head that plans and directs, and Calliope is the arm that reaches out to grab for safety. So when it's cut off, the body continues feeling the pain.

I am not an amputee, I cannot speak from experience here, this is just what I have observed from my experiences in the real world, so bear with me.

But here's the thing. Amputees are not often the type of people who will sit back and stop doing anything because of their injury. There are some who do that, humanity is a diverse bunch, but a lot of the time, the person will just get a new leg and keep moving. They often don't use it as an excuse, but an obstacle to push past. And the new leg often doesn't look like a real foot, it fits the same purpose, but its obviously mechanical, and it still fits. They have found a replacement from elsewhere and made their lives work around it. They still feel the pain, sometimes, but it doesn't stop them from living their lives.

Grace here is filling the role of the new limb, she is an outsider, a misfit, but if the idols accept her, they can move forwards, and reach for newer things.

The secondary stakes of this musical are convincing them to do just that. To change, to accept, and to embrace.

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#rants #literary analysis #literature analysis #greek mythology #stray gods #what's so special about...?#stray gods phantom pains #stray gods apollo

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fagdykebassboy · 5 months

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my little sibling plays bass and i know virtually Nothing abt bass but uh. tell me some stuff abt the bass! like do you use petals or have any settings you love defaulting to?? whats ur favorite stuff to play?

YAYYYY EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT HERRRR THANK YOUU <3333

ok so here she is and her pedals and cables and case <33333

typically i keep the tone clean but i loveeeeee playing with distortion or theres one RATM (bulls on parade) where i use fuzz with all the pedal settings all the way down it just adds this soft punch i love it i loveeee pedals i wanna get an actual board and a whammy pedal next

anyways for my bass her name is Horrorshow she’s a Jackson X series concert she plays sooooo well in super low tuning the lows are super punchy and thick and the highs are super bright and clear i lovee her soo much <33333 (i technically got her for free cuz i had this squier jazz bass and its motherboard fucking broke and it was cheaper to just trade it in than get a new part. Anyways once i saw her i knew i had to have her and she was on sale for like 250 off (CRAZY.) and with the warranty money i got her basically for free and if anything ever happens to her i’ll kill myself)

as for settings i like to play with the gain turned alllllllll the way up (it gives it this really soft distortion feel while keeping the clean tone) and the highs/treble and mids relatively even with the lows/bass just a little bit lower. This bass really excels in lower tunings so ive set everything up with that in mind so that the highs stay bright and the bass/lows are still thick and loud without overpowering everything. And for the knob that controls the mix between the pickups (i have a jazz/precision setup basically the jazz is bright and buzzy and the precision is a little softer idk) i crank the jazz side alllll the way up

my favorite stuff to play is usually whatever rise against song im obsessed with at the moment (probably because their bass player is co-writes all the shit with the singer so their two parts kinda take the lead and keep everything together its really cool and makes for some really fun bass lines and fills that a lot of other bands dont have idk his bass lines are just Fun.) but i loveeeeee Savior, Prayer of the Refugee + Drones, and State of the Union (cuz i get to use distortion on that one and it sounds soooooooo good and loudddd). Other than that i love playing anything loud and fast or really anything in Eb or drop C# tuning (those and anything lower are my favorites) my favorite songs to play right now are probably Bulls on Parade and Midnight hands (and anesthesia by metallica its soooooo pretty its just a bass solo for literally the entire thing but FUCK is it hard like just go listen to it it makes me wanna kill myself)

#asks #THANK YOUU MARZ I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY BASS SOOOO MUCH SHE IS THE FUCKING LOVE OF MY LIFE <333333 #if you ever have any other questions plzzzzzz ask me i could talk about this shit allllllll dayyyyyy #ohh yeah and that metal thing that covers one set of pickups is a pickguard ive tried finding out whats its original use was #but im pretty sure everyones fucking forgotten at this point lmao #whatever i keep it on i think it looks cool and its a nice hand rest which i *think* is the intended use but idk 🤷#bass things

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theshotsheardacrossworlds · 2 years

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The Professor

Eighteen-year-old Agnes learns not use to LB2 as a healer and is told inns are expensive by the three experienced adventurers she travels with...some of those lessons stick and others don’t. This was a prompt from The Wholesomely Debauched and Enabling Book Club. SFW.

“Preparing to limit break!” Neila shouted as the boss of the current dungeon she and her party were fighting was on its last legs. “What the…?”

“HEALS FOR EVERYONE!” Eighteen-year-old Agnes Currai yelled, white light enveloping her and the others.

Mauritenne blinked several times.

Brash Waves shook his head.

Once the beast was dead, Neila approached Agnes, who was overjoyed at her first time completing a dungeon. She raised her hand for a high-five, which was fucking adorable if I’m being honest. She’s like a giant adorable puppy. “Congratulations Agi, but the limit break is for me and Mauritenne, not you.”

The teenager’s expression shifted from joy to horror within seconds. “Oh fucking hells! I am SO SORRY! It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m a faster learner! I would never put you all at a disadvantage!”

Is she tearing up? Shit. Neila gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s okay. You’re very new to all this.”

“Trust me, if Brash were angry, you’d know.” Mauritenne chuckled while counting gil. “Besides, congratulations are in order!” He rose (stiffly, his knees must be bothering him, poor dear) and offered his hand. “You’re now officially an adventurer, Agi.”

Agnes blushed and shook his hand. “Thanks.”

“Just don’t do it again, lass. Unless we be in dire straits.” Brash Waves took his share of the gil and then kissed Mauritenne. My two lovers. Simply the best.

Mauritenne then slapped Brash’s behind. “Well, that is unless Brash is unable to move after a night of—”

Agnes’s eyes widened, and she began to laugh nervously. “Fun! Lots of fun! Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.” When Mauritenne handed Agnes her share, she gasped. “Is this all for me?!?!”

“Aye, lass. Don’t spend it all in one place.”

“I-I won’t! I’ll be sending quite a bit home to my Mum and Da—”

Neila smiled and patted Agnes’s arm. “Remember to keep enough for supplies and such for you too, okay? Your parents wouldn’t want you to not be prepared while you’re traveling.” The way Agi speaks about them shows she loves them very much. Maybe we’ll go to Costa del Sol in a few weeks and have a jolly time by the sea…Brash’s nameday is coming up, so it’ll be the perfect excuse.

Agnes nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes. Right! I’ll make sure to have plenty for supplies and inn rooms.”

The three froze in place.

Inn rooms?!?!

“What?” Agnes glanced at the three experienced adventurers. “Do you not use inns? Are we supposed to camp? I’m not the biggest fan of camping…”

“Ye will be. Inns are expensive, lassie. Cheaper to use hostels or camp.”

That’s quite an expression she has her face! A mix of…hmmm, horror and disgust. Oh Agi, you’ll learn.

Agnes once again laughed nervously. “I’m sure. I just like a comfy bed—”

“And I’d like some bloody wine and Neila in my lap. To the pub!” Mauritenne shouted as he began heading back to Gridania. Brash quickly followed, leaving Neila and Agnes alone.

Neila giggled. “You’ll get used to the two of them. However, what they said is true---inns can be very expensive, Agi.”

“I-I’ll keep that in mind, Neila.”

Years later, while watching her two lovers bicker over who took down a beast faster, Neila remembered their friend’s accidental limit break fondly. She never did it again but chose not to take our advice about inns. She foraged or fished to save money on buying meals, so she’d have a comfy bed to sleep in at night. Oh Agi, I hope you’re well. Never ever change.

#agnes currai #neila aliapoh #brash waves #mauritenne #prompt fill #young agi and the three middle aged adventurers #agi is like nahhhhhhh camping sucks #she still hates camping #estinien teases her for hating camping but she likes comfy beds and indoor plumbing okay

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forestryfae · 6 months

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literally everything has to be some kind of a deal and everything i do HAS to have a comment or criticism attached to it and i HAVE to be commented on constantly. i cant even fucking do my laundry 20:22 cus "isnt it a bit late" NO. THE DOOR SAYS 22:30 IS WHEN YOU CLOSE. why the FUCK cant i just be allowed to do ONE load of laundry at 8 in the evening without criticism and they cant even unlock the fucking door in the morning cus they just dont give a shit. i couldnt have done it earlier cus i was pissed at the staff because of that fucking "you cant have juice flavouring in your water at dinner" NEVR BEEN A RULE + there were SEVERAL people drinking soda at dinner onf riday and ive seen people drink energy drinks at dinner so what the FUCK is the problem. they even put out the flavouring on the dinne rtable yesterday and ive never heard that fucking rule BUT WHEN I DO SOMETHING its a problem and im the only one at fault apparently. meanwhile they cant even unlock the fucking door to the laundryroom so we can wash our fucking clothes without having to ASK THEM to open the door. WHAT. i have wednesday and friday off SPECIFICALLY so i can do laundry and ive been woken up with "good morning are you going to do laundry today it looks like you need to do it" and going downstairs and the door is fucking LOCKED. and then they changed the closingtime from 9pm to 22:30 and told NOONE, so every fucking rule is a guessing game of "am i allowed to do this or am i actually the worst person in the world because i shouldve just known this" and now i cant do laundry so ill have clean clothes for work tomorrow because apparently its "too late" and also fuck me i guess. everything i do is wrong. nothing can be a simple question or request that gets done, everything has to be a big deal

also fuck that girl i went to the store w last saturday, shes very nice and not a bad person but jesus christ it gets kind of grating to have to listen to her constantly comment on everything. they need to do this, they need to do that, this isnt how SHE would have done it and this isnt what SHES used to, why did you just this or that. well for starters i didnt just buy the candy i wanted from a different store cus we were AT ANOTHER STORE. was i supposed to just NOT buy candy? was i supposed to read her fucking mind and just know its slightly cheaper at this other store??? was i supposed to pour the candy out and run to the other store. not to mention we DID go to the other store and they had literally nothing. it was like two things i liked, the other had like 8 of them. not that id know either cus im not a psychic, and neither is she cus she commented on how little they had. i was lucky to even make it INTO the other store too cus the cunt sitting in front of me in the six seater wouldnt fucking move. its one of those minivans that have doors on both sides that go to both the back and the back-est seats but you have to clap the seats together and move them forward to get through. and she had the fucking audacity to go "you guys will have to go out through the other door if you want to go out" THERE WERE TWO GUYS WHO WERENT GONNA GO OUT OF THE CAR. FUCKING MOVE YOU BITCH. the others had already left the car and went inside the other store without me, wtf. and then she had the fucking audacity to ask if i could get through between the door and seat while she was sitting there when i was trying to get back in. OHHHH MY GOD how self centered can you get. "i do NOT wanna sit in the backseat" i dont give a shit. people have to sit in the back sometimes youre not special. unless you get physically ill you have no excuse. and since the roof had windows and those sunscreens they ofc removed them so the three of us in teh back got the sun in our eyes the whole fucking ride up and down. oh my god. can people just not think.

like im trying to keep my cool and not get mad at people cus it feels fucking ba dto get so annoyed and angry over relatively minor things but sometimes i just wanna bite peoples faces off. holy shit. can people just not think. i know were all inpatient and i know not everyones perfect but jesus christ. for just one second i wish people had the capability of selfreflection. i am constantly day ina nd day out monitoring myself so i dont fuck up and i try my best to not be rude or shitty to other people meanwhile its uncomfortable going into the livingroom because we have one guy whos allowed to sit in there and just fucking sulk and be cranky instead of staying in his fucking room until hes able to be around people without biting peoples heads off or sitting there scowling at people when theyre not even fucking talking to him we have that one girl who has zero respect for other peoples time and will gladly ask us to wait half an hour to start watching a movie cus she wants to join but needs to eat first then spends the whole half hour just sitting there talking to people then starting to actually make heer food WHEN WERE ALL GOING DOWNSTAIRS TO WATCH THE MOVIE, then making us wait another half hour so she can eat before changing her mind and the theres that fucking cunt who keeps fucking. i very clearly said to the staff that no, i hadnt been informed about the 9 am takeoff time for a three day trip, i hadnt heard any information about anything even though i asked for info. takeoff time was written literally two days before and i hadnt seen it because i was in my room the whole time feeling like shit. staff insists theyve informed everyone, i point out i havent been informed about anything, the guy just fucking interjects with "they wrote it on the board you shouldve checked" and somehow thats MY fault for not knowing. BUT TEH MILLISECOND some other motherfucker whos been here every day doesnt notice the plans that were made the weekends before and written WITH TIMESTAMPS on monday, the millisecond he didnt know about that on saturday thats a HUGE problem. poor guy didnt get to come along to something he was informed about several days earlier and thats a fucking problem but it was perfectly okay when i wasnt informed

#talkies

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doskorogorpg · 8 months

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♦ NO MOURNERS, NO FUNERALS. AMONG THEM IT PASSED FOR GOOD LUCK.

name: Yekaterina "Katya" Volkova.

age: Twenty-Nine.

race: Grisha.

powers / skillset: Heartrender.

gender: Female.

HEARTRENDER. She can feel what's buried beneath your ribcage. A cage, indeed. Desperately entraping your heart so it cannot be touched. But she doesn’t need to touch. Only feel. And she feels your heart. She hears its thump like an echo in her mind. She senses how it flutters, missing a beat, in fright when she comes near. She feels it all. You are nothing but skin, bone, blood, and a frail little heart. She’d love to know what it sounds like when it goes pop. She just might find out soon.

Trigger Warning: N/A.

The heart. You either own it or it owns you. Katya owned hers, and she owned a collection of others, too. She cumulated them like toys or fine weapons to beckon at her call. But none of them were enough. She wanted more. Her collection wasn’t complete until she found herself sitting upon piles of gold, dressed in the finest fabrics, and snug beneath blankets of fur that kept her skin warm until slivers of light peaked through curtains to announce the morning sun. But oh, dear heart, why did it have to be him. Why did the traitorous ticker have to stutter over him: Viktor Gusev. A mortal king is nothing to the queen of hearts. Especially one so thoughtless as him. And yet.. Money talks. More specifically, it talks to her, and she all too happily lets it talk her into his bed despite how they loathed each other. Hate meant nothing, though, when they both had something to gain. Viktor had her power, and she had his money to live as lavishly as she pleased when he didn’t need her. Which wasn’t often. He called to her like a forlorn lover; always needing her there to display his power and the hold he had over even one of the Grisha’s strongest. She despised it. Hated being his plaything. But he swore he’d always keep her pouch full despite the nature of his war. She just didn’t understand it until it was too late that he was always fighting against her.

She knew it when her heart stuttered. Not out of a heavy heart or love lost. Rather it flickered because he commanded it so. He put on his crown, the one he always wore, and commanded she stop her own heart so he could finally hear her plead. But she did not beg nor whimper. She only gasped and struggled in vain as her own heart stuttered until he grew bored of her. Then all that was left was to toss her to his prison cells when Azov burned. Where she became the one thing she never wanted to be. Forgotten. No longer a prize of his to be coddled in front of his few trusted elite. The girl they all spoke about in whispers while never really knowing her name. She was nothing. Caged as her own heart until she felt those slivers of light across her skin without the comfort of furs or warmth this time. Light that enshrouded the shape of a woman who converted her iron chains to cool liquid and glided the both of them through walls as if they were nothing until they came face to face with a man who promised no one would know her name. No one would know her story. She’d just be the girl swathed in cheaper furs, drinking expensive liquor, and collecting her hearts until she got what she wanted most: to take everything back from the one man who dared to stop her heart.

MAKSIM & VARYIS: The second and third of Mikhail’s recruits. The only two she actively tries to make an effort with and allows herself to be persuaded by to join in on their certifiably insane antics. Not to mention the two of them are a good excuse for her to not have to get so close to anyone that she begins to open up her heart. Opening up her heart only meant weakness, and she had her sights set on loftier goals than being weakened by softness. So, she won’t admit she cares for either of them. But she’ll continue to show up wherever they call because they were hers. Her two favored. The ones she’d never dare to touch with her powers. SVETLANA: Mikhail and Svetlana came to her when she was at her weakest. They saw her at her worst, her most vulnerable, and all they did was wrap her arms around both of their shoulders and carried the weight of her until she could stand on her own two feet again. And they did all of this without breathing a whisper of who she was to the others. She is grateful for both. They freed her and offered her the chance at Viktor’s money again. But she finds herself closer to Svetlana as the two of them are often paired up for Mikhail’s schemes. Or they escape the city for a while for a nice reprieve in the other's company as neither of them were as power crazy or erratic as the rest of the crew. She was just Svetlana. And Katya found she could be just Katya around her, too. SOFIYA: She wasn’t an idiot and she wasn’t tragically blinded by her heart. So it made her decent company. Someone who wasn’t quite a friend but worth Katya’s time for what she could smuggle in. She’d saddled up next to the worst of humankind for a good drink. And not the Volki’s definition of a good drink. No. Sofiya smuggled liquors you’d only find on one of the elites' tables. Katya will never turn down a drink like that so she finds herself often visiting the girl despite her taste for power that seems to only be apparent to Katya. But it only took one look in the mirror to see to know when someone was chasing power.

YEKATERINA VOLKOVA IS PORTRAYED BY ANYA CHALOTRA & IS CURRENTLY TAKEN.

#lsrp #lsrpg #grisha rp #original rp #fantasy rp #a #c #g #katyabio #char: katya

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ursbearhug · 1 year

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Sometimes I get emails, that I cannot stop, from a game that I cannot log on to, because support has me so far deep in their ass they cannot even be bothered to help me out getting my account back. And viewing these emails sometimes really make me think; do game developers even play their own games?

This is another case of "if you have never tried broccoli you can't really say you don't like it, since you've never tasted it". Or the "I know nothing about quantum physics and neither do you about [word], so don't try to interfere".

I know that game balancing can be tricky thing. There will always, always, always be a character, weapon, strategy or perk that will be better than other. If everything is perfectly balanced, there is no reason for the variety because all of them would do the same thing and fulfil the same niche or fantasy. Some games suffer from this more than others.

I'm no BTD6 pro by any means but even playing leisurely you can notice "oh, bloon solver and the biggest one cover the exact same niche". And then you look further and you realise "well, they cover the same niche but bloon solver is more practical choice because it's cheaper, has access to more buffs and is simplier to use given it requires no microing". The same can apply to some other monkeys or towers too. Like, there is absolutely no reason to use Glue Storm othen than trying to take down the boss because other Glue Gunner paths do the work better. Need stalling? Ice monkey is cheaper and more efficient than trying to get new beast handler going. Fastest moab killer? You won't do it any faster at cheap price than moab mauler.

I personally think that Ninja Kiwi is doing good work keeping the game balanced for the most part. Strong things get nerfed, underperforming towers get buffed. Some games, like Leauge for instance, have troubles because keeping 160ish champions in perfectly balanced state is a challenge. But even then, when Riot introduces new concepts, they sometimes do it the very wonky way;

If you want to introduce an assassin character and also keep the game clean you have to make concessions: it's an assassin so you want it to be quick or stealthy and be able to quickly kill it's target. If your character is meant to burst down opponent, it can never be tanky and tenacious because then instead of going for pick ups 1v1, it will go rampant 1v4 and most likely win. Even burst damage needs to have a window of opportunity to react, otherwise game leaves no counteraction to be taken and uninteractive games are not being fun. Yeah, the assassin player will have fun 1shoting hoes left and right, but players tired of getting one shot will eventually leave the game out of frustration. It's like in real life fauna; too much predators leaves no pray and they both go extinct. Giving an assassin hard CC is okay because it can fit into its character or narrative background. But assassins being able to hard crowd control 5 enemies are just being objectively too powerful. That's why some characters can never find their niche and suffer from it, like Diana; she wants to be tanky magic bruiser but also assassinate her enemies. She can do either or, otherwise neither fantasies will be fulfilled and it's just impossible to balance properly.

But then you have shit like "hey, we have an event! 3x exp!" and I'm like... Okay? And? I cannot stress this enough but if getting one level requires you to get, and I'm not fucking with you here, 13 trilion experience (which by itself is just fucking nonsense, because I barely understand numbers in thousands, let alone anything that has 14 digits)(I love when bitches try to excuse the steepenes it gets on higher levels as if it's acceptable for the reward they're not getting and being like "uwu I got 600milion exp last dungeon, so kawaii" and the percentage rise was like 3%) getting 3 times multipliers on 1 milion (or 9milion, doesn't really matter. No amount of "greatest fastest resonance farming strategy" will change the number factor and anybody thinking otherwise is just deluding themselves) is legitmently fucking nothing. It will not make getting experience any fucking easier and it's there so the whales, who already don't do anything other than grinding, can feel slightly less horrible about their life choices.

This is something D3 is also suffering from and a lot of players are already doomsdaying the future of D4. In D3, at some point in paragon grinding, you're dealing damage in numbers a human mind cannot fucking comprehend. And getting to higher paragons is just as nonsensical because the amount of experience you need, amount you get and amount of time you need to pour into it is not consequential or sensible at all. I'm not the one to talk about grinding it, given that I can sit down and get like 10 levels in a reasonable time; getting from 1050 to 1060 take less time than getting from 5000 to 5001.

So it's like... Play your games first, I guess?

#percy does things #will delete later #percy does gaming

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donnabroadway · 1 year

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Your trauma is not an excuse

Trauma is an explanation not an excuse. At some point you have to do the work and make a real concerted effort to actually grown beyond what happened so it is simply a character building thing, not a personality trait.

Let's talk about the most recent housewives episode. Most of the women are prime examples of childhood trauma rearing its ugly head. I get it, Mia was abused and abandoned by her mother simply because her mother didn't like her father. It has to hurt watching her mother have the mother/daughter relationship with her sister and children that Mia wants to so bad while her mother can't show up for her unless she's getting paid and she can't handle her grandkids for an hour without getting flustered. All of that has to hurt but Mia leaving a trail of betrayal, broken friendships, marriages, and assault isn't the way to respond. Mia needs to heal and she needs a real therapist. I understand that therapists needs clients to keep their practice afloat, but the goal of therapy is to eventually graduate your client, not just listen to them talk for an hour, tell them what they want to hear, sprinkle in some DSM talk, and collect their payment. Mia needs to a new therapist. What Mia did to Wendy is not okay. There is nothing Wendy did that justified what happened to her and the viewers see that. My therapist told me that if I didn't heal and get ahold of my emotions that I would always be the victim. Notice how Mia started that entire situation but now she's the victim because Wendy supposedly said something negative about her husband. I also foresee a divorce and nasty custody battle in Mia's future. The money is gone or is at least compromised, Mia is no longer the fun party girl that rejuvenated G's youth, and everyone can see her nastiness. I don't foresee that relationship lasting too much longer. I could be wrong but marriages aren't too strong when the foundation is infidelity, youth, threesomes, and money. I don't wish it on anyone but I wouldn't be surprised if it happened.

Recently, I made a video about Chris Brown, Rihanna, and the abuse they both experienced that led them to the incident and someone said I was trying to destroy black men. Nope. We're not protecting black men that try to destroy us. We're not protecting black men that abuse; sexually, physically, emotionally, mentally, or verbally. We are getting these black men help. We're getting all black people, not just men, help. There are too many graveyards, seas, and unmarked graves filled with people who tried to protect black men. We're protecting black men who protect us, not just those use us as work mules. We're protecting black men who work hard, take care of their families, are present, healed, and loving. We're not protecting our creepy uncle or cousin. We're no longer telling girls how to dress to prevent sexual assault, we're no longer bending ourselves into pretzels to protect our babies from abuse because Grandma won't put her abusive son out. You mean to tell me our babies can only come over on certain dates and times because uncle or cousin so and so won't be there. I also believe that most women who have lost their children to an abusive partner have seen signs and chose to ignore them in hopes they would change or wanting to please their partner. The blood on most dead children are absolutely on the hands of their parents. I saw one comment where a lady left her child with her boyfriend, not the father, and she saw him verbally abusing the son on nanny cam and she was asking what to do and we knew she wasn't leaving because she was making excuses for him and saying she didn't have anyone and she talked to him and maybe he could change. Okay, girl. Let me tell you a secret, forgiveness and prayer is not how you change someone. We need some earthly consequences too. Leaving the only man who may be willing to deal with your child and having to figure out childcare is far cheaper than your babies innocence, peace of mind, future, and maybe even life.

For some reason we think talking to people, giving them grace, and forgiving them will cause them to "come to Jesus" so to speak and change and it doesn't work like that. People need real life consequences, not just talking or motions to show we're angry and doing something. I know it's seen as extreme, but I understand why certain religions banish people who can potentially cause harm. It's similar to amputating a limb to prevent a septic infection. It may not feel good but if someone can't keep the rules and respect boundaries, no matter how stupid we may think they are, then they need to go somewhere more suitable for them. Banishing people who are harmful to the community is how we make real change. We don't need to coddle anyone and the whataboutisms in relation to white people who do the same thing is not the flex we think it is. So we're supposed to give our abusers a pass because white abusers get passes? Nope. That's why too many of our kids grow up with trauma and angry. No. We need to stand up and banish them and tell them to get the necessary help or remove ourselves instead of protecting them.

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sundaysundaes · 3 years

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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

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a-singleboat · 3 years

Text

His Shirt

Word Count: 1533

A/N: I literally have no excuse, but I’m back!

Request: Can I request something where the reader and Shayne have been seeing each other for a little while and she unknowingly wears one of his shirts to work and the whole day goes by like normal but towards the end of it, someone like Noah or something ends up questioning it like “how has no one noticed this, or mentioned it all freaking day?!” And Shayne gets shy about it but the reader just laughs it off and it’s all cute and fluffy af💕💕- Anon

Over quarantine, you’d seen very little of any of your friends and coworkers. Working from home was tough, especially since you and your partner had just made the decision to move in with each other a week before the entire country had been submerged into a lockdown that stretched over a few months. The days blended together and eventually dragged on, which made you excited to return to work if anything.

The morning of your official return, you woke up extremely early, not having been able to sleep the night before due to pure excitement. You wanted to get back to filming, to doing all the things you did before going into quarantine, you missed the hustle and bustle of set life.

You were dressed before Shayne was, throwing on a button up from your shared closet as well as a pair of dark-wash jeans that only felt a little tight at the waist. You weren’t concerned, seeing as you were never really on the skinny side of fitness, you figured it was just early morning bloating that would go away as the day went on.

“Are you driving or am I?” you asked, bouncing on the balls of the feet as you waited for Shayne to pull on a thin jacket. It wasn’t fully winter yet but it also wasn’t cold enough to constitute a full coat. You had a thinner track jacket on as well, the zipper zipped only part of the way up in your hurry.

Shayne paused by you to pull up the zipper the rest of the way before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Calm down,” he advised, pulling his mask on over the bottom half of his face. “We still have to grab breakfast before heading to the offices, Courtney asked if we could stop by that bagel place by us she likes.”

“Is it even open?” you asked, patting down your pockets to make sure you had everything. Once you were sure you had your phone, keys, and wallet, you then realized that you had completely forgotten your purse inside. You whirled around to head back inside when Shayne handed you the black bag, a knowing smirk on his face.

“They’re open for pickups only,” he told you, pulling your keys from your pocket, “and I’ll drive, I don’t feel like getting pulled over by the cops today.”

“I’m not that bad at driving,” you tried to defend yourself, hurrying after him as he walked off to the parking lot. “I just take the speed limit signs as suggestions but that doesn’t mean I’m bad at it.”

He didn’t respond, instead holding the passenger seat door open for you. His action was answer enough. You slid into the passenger seat and buckled in as he shut the door tight, running around to the other side and sliding into the driver’s seat.

“What are we going to tell them when you roll up driving my car, huh?” you questioned. “Our friends know we moved into the same apartment because it was cheaper as roommates, not because we started dating. If you roll up driving my car they’ll have questions.”

“It’ll be fine,” he tried to parlay your worries. “Besides, if you’re that concerned about it I can just say you had a headache or didn’t feel like driving after we got to the bagel shop. Not the end of the world.”

You sank back into your seat, coming to terms with the fact that Shayne was not going to let you drive. He pulled out of the parking lot as One Direction played softly in the background, the aux cord trailing from its socket to the connector on your phone as you dictated what you listened to on the way to the bagel shop.

Shayne got out of the car when you got there, heading in to pick up the order you had called ahead for on the way there. He was back before Temporary Fix ended, handing the bagels over to you as you switched over to Alec Benjamin for the rest of the ride in.

You ate your bagel on the way in, putting the vegetable spread evenly over the toasted bread and eating it as Water Fountain played. You held out a bit of your bagel, silently asking if Shayne wanted any. He took the bite, smiling when he realized you accidentally got cream cheese on his cheek. You reached out with a napkin and wiped it off before finishing the rest of your bagel.

You arrived at the offices shortly after, unplugging your phone from the aux and exiting the vehicle. Luckily, no one was outside to see the two of you enter the building. You would say you were walking a little too closely for it to be considered friendly, especially during a pandemic, but everyone knew that the two of you were close friends anyways. Walking close together wouldn’t give anything away.

“What do you have to film today?” you made small talk in the elevator, getting to your working mindset. You knew what you had to do, film a gaming video with Ian, Noah, and Courtney, as well as take a look and collaborate with the writers on a new skit idea for when production went back to being fully up and running. It would be a short day for you, which wasn’t ideal but at least you got some camera time.

Shayne looked up from his phone. “I’ve got the meeting with the crew and then some gaming videos, I think. We’re also planning for the Christmas video soon, so I’ll probably be with Wardrobe for most of the day.”

You hummed as the elevator doors opened, Shayne tucking his phone away and then sending you a wink. You felt your face burn hot as you scrunched up your nose. You reached up to fix your mask as you waited for the elevator to go up to the main office floor, heading straight for your desk where a pack of Lysol wipes and a temperature gun were waiting.

Proactive, you thought, using the wipes to clean off the surface of your desk before finally setting your things down. You took your jacket off, draping over the back of your chair before sitting. You had about thirty minutes before your call time so you checked your email and went over a few of the new safety regulations that were put in place for filming.

The most notable were the fifteen-minute COVID tests you would have to take before and after each section of filming, meaning you couldn’t enter or exit the filming area without a negative test. Honestly, that was a good thing if any. At least the company cared in that way.

Filming took up the rest of your day and when you finally finished with your writer’s meeting, it was six pm. Not as early as a day as you would have hoped but you’ve definitely stayed in the studio for longer so you weren’t going to complain.

You were sitting at your desk as you waited for Shayne to finish up his meeting, casually chatting with Noah to pass the time. You were sharing one of your quarantine stories when Shayne walked in, heading straight for your desk with his things already collected.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, adjusting her jacket. “Also, what do you want for dinner tonight because I was thinking we could have lasagna but if we want lasagna we have to stop by the market on the way.”

You laughed, pulling your jacket on. “I could go for lasagna.”

Noah looked between the two of you, slowly connecting the dots. He pointed at you, a grin on his face as realization crossed his features. “That’s Shayne’s shirt.”

You looked down, realizing that, yeah, you were wearing Shayne’s shirt. You looked over at Shayne who’s cheeks were as red as a tomato. He started stammering, offering reasons as to why you were wearing his shirt.

You just shrugged, quickly thinking for a way out. “The laundry must have gotten mixed up. Not the first time I’d accidentally worn his shirts.”

Noah gave you a look that read that he didn’t quite believe you. But he let it go, taking note of Shayne’s red cheeks and your flustered looks. He smirked, patting your shoulder as he got up.

“I’ll believe you for now,” he said, leaving the two of you to stew in your minor embarrassment.

“How long until everyone knows?” you asked Shayne who looked only mildly mortified that Noah was the first to find out. “We weren’t even keeping it a secret either… I’m proud of us anyhow.”

“I guess that means we don’t have to worry about who sees us now,” he said, looking on the bright side. “And yeah, keeping it a secret any longer would have been kinda dumb, wouldn’t it have been.”

You headed to the elevators, linking your arm through Shayne’s.

“Not excited for the fans to find out, though.”

Shayne looked at you and then looked back at the opening elevator doors. “We don’t have to tell them. It can be Smosh’s little secret.”

TAGLIST

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000 @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch @paige0103 @theofficialzivadavid

#shayne topp #shayne topp x reader #shayne #topp #reader #shayne topp imagine #shayne topp fluff #fluff #his shirt #Noah Grossman #Courtney Miller #ian hecox #one direction #alec benjamin #smosh #smosh games

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

hi babes! could u do a javier peña x reader where the girl works w javi & steve and she and javi have been the closest friends ever but javi develops feelings for her and after he sees her back home from a date all happy he gets super jealous and finally decides to tell her he loves her and she says it back, something like that xx

I love this so much 🥺 Enjoy 🥰💕

Javier x Fem!Reader; warnings: language

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Its Friday night and Javi is bored. Not bored bored...but bored. The excitement of the week has left him buzzing with energy and he's not quite sure how to get it out. He's decidedly not going to the bar or to spend the evening with temporary company. No - that hadn't been his deal in some time...not since you. But he'd never admit that. Despite the fact that you knew - everyone knew.

Instead, he comes up with the plan to do what the two of you often end up doing at the end of a hectic week - unwind with some bad television, cheap beer, and even cheaper pizza. Its become a bit of an unspoken tradition and you relish in it - both of you. Its a thing that's so easy, so effortless but fun for the both of you.

So, he's at your door, pizza in hand and a six pack tucked under his arm knocking loudly. He's eagerly waiting, humming with nervous energy just at the mere thought seeing you. Javier wasn't sure when he'd turned from an experienced grown man to a nervous boy, but you always had that effect on him….and he didn't mind.

When you opened the door a few moments later, his jaw almost dropped as he took in the sight of you, looking more beautiful than anyone should be allowed to. You offered him a big smile, the one he most definitely fell in love with, when you looked him over. Your hair and makeup was done and your dress was enough to make him weak on the knees.

And then, as you put in your earrings, you realized you'd completely spaced on telling him that your weekly plan wasn't going to work tonight.

"Wow, you look beautiful-"

"Javi, tonight's not going to work-"

You both started at the same time. As soon as his words you hit your ears, a flush of warmth rose up in your face. Sure, he'd told you that you've looked nice before, but something about how he had just said it was...different.

"Oh."

"Yeah," you offered him an apologetic look, "I'm so sorry, Javi. I completely forgot to tell you - it just happened so fast."

"You...you have plans?" his face dropped slightly as you nodded, an odd wash of disappointment clouded over you.

"I...I have a date," you were staring at your feet as he cleared his throat. Gods, you were already regretting this. But...but Javier had never asked and you weren't sure if he ever would and oh gods, the idea of asking him seemed impossible and this had seemed like a good distraction at the time. The almost painful look on Javier's face, quickly concealed into an emotionless mask was enough to make you regret your decision, "umm...Eric. He asked me out today."

"And you said yes."

"I said yes," you agreed with the accusation, "I wasn't thinking...I completely forgot its Friday and if I would have realized I wouldn't have said yes."

"No, don't worry about it. It's fine," the tone of his voice suggested that it was anything but fine. You were tempted to just stay in with Javi and cancel your plans. Maybe if either of you would finally just say something - anything, "you should definitely go out with Eric. It'll make his whole year. Have fun, Dulzura…"

"Javi," you tried to grab his free hand but he quickly pulled out of your grasp, the gesture harsh and biting, "Javier! I don't have to go…I can stay."

"And why would you do that?" he turned around, his eyes narrowed as he tried to get a read on you. It was a challenge - to see if either of you would willingly break.

"You know why," you insisted firmly, wishing you could just say the words. But both of you were too steadfast and stubborn to give in, "say it and I'll stay. But I need you to say it."

"There's nothing to say," he said sharply, the slightest bit of crack to his voice, "have a good time. With Eric."

"Javi," you called after him, eyes stinging and threatening to spill over with unshed tears as he refused to turn back around and walked back to his own apartment. He couldn't have meant it...right? Surely he didn't… "Javier!"

He heard you. Of course he did. The whole building easily could have.

But he didn't stop. And you didn't go after him.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Eric was...nice. Kind, funny, charming, and handsome. He was everything a woman could dream of; you'd known him for a while and it was easy to see why someone would fall for him. When you got to the restaurant, he pulled out your chair, and ordered a nice bottle of wine.

Conversation was polite - funny and flirtatious. Everything you'd expect on a date.

And yet...the whole time, your mind was absent. You were there, smiling and laughing at the appropriate times, but your mind kept wandering. No matter how much you wanted to like him….it all went back to Javier.

You didn't want Eric - you didn't want anything like him.

You wanted Javier. Him and only him.

Even if he didn't want you, you were going to tell him. You couldn't keep up this silly little dance, skirting around the issue and never talking about it. You had to do this.

That's why you left the date early, making up a shitty excuse you were sure he could see through. You felt bad - he was nice, but you had to do this.

As you ran into your apartment building, heels in hand, you were making a beeline for Javier's apartment. But instead of making it to his palce, you stopped when you spied a figure in front of your own door.

"Javier," you were breathless as you stared into this soft brown eyes. His gaze was locked onto yours as his chest and rose fell heavily.

"Dulzura," he reached for your hand and pulled you tightly against him, "fuck what I said earlier. Fuck Eric and whatever we've been doing. I-"

"I'm in love with you," you quickly cut him off, watching as a look of surprise crossed his features before a small tugged on the corners of his mouth, "you're a jerk and an asshole sometimes, but damn - I'm in love with you."

A hand tenderly went to your cheek as he watched you closely, his eyes searching yours as you just gently nodded at him. He slowly raised his other hand to your face, cradling it gently before crashing his lips onto yours.

Finally. Finally. Finally.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him close, carding a hand through his dark locks. The way he kissed you and you eagerly kissed back was like the two of you had done this a million times before. There was no awkwardness, no tension, no hassle - it just was. And it was utterly perfect.

Kissing Javier Peña was better than you could have ever dreamed. And after all this time it was finally a reality.

Your hand went to his shoulders and onto his chest as you slowly broke apart for a breath of air. He was looking at you in such a reverent manner, but his eyes were nervous - a quality you almost never saw in them. His warm, large hands found purchase on your waist as you leaned in for another kiss, this was soft and gentle before he chased your lips with a few of his own. You drank in the moment, nuzzling your nose against his as you felt him smile against your lips.

"Me too," he whispered softly, but paused when he realized this wasn't enough - he needed to do this properly, "I love you - I'm in love with you."

"Good," you beamed at him, making his heart melt. Gods, that how he knew this was right - no one had ever had this effect on him, not even his former fiancé, "this would have been awkward otherwise."

"Sorry for being such an asshole earlier," he grimaced at the thought of what could have happened if the two of you hadn't both suddenly hit a revelation, "I just…"

"I know," you shushed him by putting a finger to his lips, "I know. Maybe this is exactly what we needed - a push in the right direction."

"Yeah," he agreed, grinning gently at you, "I just...the thought of you with him made me...I hated it."

"I know," you nodded towards, "do you...do you want to come inside? Its Friday night after all."

"Hmm," he kissed your forehead, a knowing grin exchanged between the two of you, "I'd like that a lot, Dulzura."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena #javier pena x you

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bump1nthen1ght · 3 years

Text

Pack Tactics (Werewolf x Reader)

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Male!Werewolf

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Couple, Angst with a happy ending

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2896 words

Summary: You are in a wonderful relationship with your sweet partner, Gray. But this far into the relationship, you’ve yet to tell him you have no intentions ever of having kids. You can’t help but wonder, how will your child-loving werewolf boyfriend will react?

Request: I live for very specific comfort! No pressure if this doesn’t inspire you or if you just don’t want to write it obvi.... but could I have a f!reader x m!werewolf where the reader is 100% sure she doesn’t want to have kids ever never ever in any capacity and is worried about how her werewolf bf is going to react, worried she’ll be dumped or something (ya know cause idk I feel like werewolves are built with a breeding kink and like into the whole having a lot of pups) there can be smut if you want!! I love me some dramatic angst comfort :)))))))

A/N: Sorry this took so long y’all, school and stuff has been kicking my ass. But writing this sweet little fic has been a nice reprieve from my work. Hope you enjoy!

“Alright, I’ll get the chicken, the asparagus, and the pasta. You’ve got the wine and the dessert?”

“Sure thing.”

The two of you nod, Gray stepping away from the grocery cart before you call out to him.

“And not one of those huge tubs of ice cream.”

Gray emits a dramatic whine, pouting.

“But the big one is 25 cents cheaper than those little pints. It’s practically free!”

You furrow your brow and pat him on the shoulder.

“Not if we don’t finish them, they aren’t. Now go.” Gray rolls his eyes, clutching his heart and throwing his head back. You playfully push him, walking away with the grocery cart and towards the deli section. You can see the top of Gray’s wild brown hair as he moves into the next aisle, his 6’5” form towering over all the little old ladies who usually crowd the store.

You’re browsing the chicken, trying to decide between 2 breasts or a full rotisserie, when a familiar sound reaches you.

“Oh! If it isn’t ____.” You forcibly paint a smile, fingers automatically clenched around the stellafoam package as you turn to see your next door neighbor Mrs. Star. Her teased, bleached blonde hair teeters on top of her head, bobbing back and forth with the clack of her neon blue heels. While you can respect the 60-year old for digging her feet in and refusing to update her wardrobe from the 80’s, her pension for gossip is a little less admirable. “Shocked to see you out and about, what with that big ol boyfriend of yours.” She says, blue eyeshadow crinkling into a wink and nudging you with your elbow. You wheeze a bit, quickly covering it with a laugh. “Back in our honeymoon phase, Richard and I barely left the bedroom. And he was half-way balding back then, not the babe-a-rama you got going over there.” Mrs. Star’s laugh reaches a pitch almost too high for your human ears to pick up, maybe even giving Gray 2 aisles over a headache.

“Well, y’know, gotta keep our energy up.” You wince, immediately berating yourself for that comment. Mrs. Star throws her hand up in a “oh, you” gesture, letting out another half-whistle half-screeching chuckle.

“Oh I do, honey, I do.” She sends you another dramatic wink, which you return with a shaky smile. The corner of your cart bumps into hers as you begin walking along the meat aisle, trying to forcibly end this interaction. But Mrs. Star pulls off an impressive turn with her cart and strolls alongside you. She does little to hide her wandering eyes, trying to piece together any juicy info from your groceries. “So, are you two trying for kids yet?”

The wheels squeal to a sudden stop, forcing you to choke on your saliva as the shopping cart’s handle digs into your stomach. You keep your gaze locked on the frozen steaks and turkeys, already way past the chicken you meant to grab.

“Uhhh, no. We’re not really in the phase of our relationship yet.”

Mrs. Star clicks her tongue, pressing her hand to her chest in a show of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, dearie. Old habits you see, whenever a new couple moves in together I assume they’re halfway to the wedding already. You young kids like to take it slow, huh?”

You nod, hastily grabbing a package of buffalo wings, hoping for an excuse to escape this conversation.

Mrs. Star continues to walk by you, her cart blocking off any convenient means to leave unless you significantly pick up her speed. Her eyes glance over the sweats sat in a display in the center of the aisle, humming a small tune.

The end of the aisle is approaching, you’re almost home free! You ready your feet to book it with an excuse, but Mrs. Star clears her throat and begins to speak.

“Now dearie, I don’t mean to pry-”

What do you call these last 3 minutes, Star?

“But I’d at least pop on a ring on that finger soon. Someday someone’s going to snatch that boy up like a piece of meat, saying all the right things. Men got all those suspicions about over-the-hill pregnancies, his eyes might start wandering. That’s how my first divorce went, so I should know.”

You pull your cart to a stop, breathe catching as you look at Mrs. Star, shocked. You can handle some inappropriate questions, but to question your boyfriend’s loyalty and insulting your relationship is crossing another line. Your brows furrow with a simmering anger, your cheeks heating up as you're ready to let loose.

“Well, Mrs. Star, if you must know I have the most wonderful boyfriend on this side of the planet, and unlike your deadbeat first husband, he’s as loyal as they can be.” Mrs. Star looks at you, eyes widened and right hand halfway to grab a pack of oreos. You huff, pushing your cart away from hers and towards the cash register. Right before you leave her sight, you turn back to her with a simpering smirk. “Have a great day, Mrs. Star!”

Your heart is heaving with anger, prepping a rant to Gray about the horrible interaction you just had. On the other side of the store, you spot Gray, his curly hair all tussled, holding a large Rosé and a package of ice cream sandwiches. Just the sight of his back calms you a bit, excited for some delicious food and late-night cuddles. You jog a little towards him, but slow down when you see him crouch down, looking at something hidden from your sight.

You turn your shopping cart slightly, trying to peer behind his massive form, and freeze.

Gray’s sticking out his tongue, pushing up his nose, and making many more silly gestures to a baby in a stroller. The baby laughs, it’s chubby cheeks bright red as Gray blows another raspberry, thrashing its arms up and down with joy. The dad is laughing at Gray’s antics, leaning down and patting his kid on the head.

Gray promptly stands up, sending another big smile to the kid, before waving goodbye. The six-month-old waves back, uncoordinated and decidedly adorable. Gray laughs, turning away and walking towards you.

Your feet feel cemented to the floor, heart down in your stomach.

He’s a natural, you think, nausea building up in your throat.

Gray was the oldest of eight, not a large number for a werewolf family. You adored them, and they you, but Gray had a way of dealing with his youngest siblings. Whether it was letting them climb all over him like a jungle gym, or attending imaginary tea parties, Gray was a pro. He was the guy to cram himself into a tiny chair at the kids table, eating tiny cookies and cracking jokes. ‘Dad’ seemed to be stamped into his very being, the cuddly werewolf with a love of children. He’s any mother-in-law’s dream.

But all those sweet things turn sour when you think about what Mrs. Star said. Gray, moving on without you.

Gray’s eyes light up when he sees your cart, jogging over and holding up the bottle of wine like a prize.

“Hey!” He says, quickly sliding an arm around your waist and giving you a peck on the cheek. “I got your favorite, and those delicious mint-chocolate sandwiches.”

His happy voice and comforting touch help abate whatever it is your feeling, but the way Gray’s brow furrows tells you your discomfort is present in your eyes. “Is everything okay?” His large hand comes up and rubs your shoulder. You give him a shaky smile, fighting away negative thoughts with a bat.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

---------

Wet fur presses up against your bare neck as you lazily stir the boiling water, Gray’s shifted muzzle now snug in the crook of your shoulder, the white flecks across his dark fur peeking into your periphery. Your free hand instinctively goes back to scratch between his ears, causing him to let out a satisfied huff, hot air blowing across your chest.

“That smells good baby.”

“It’s just salt and water Gray. The pasta’s barely al dente.”

Gray laughs, turning his head slightly so he can press a small kiss onto your cheek.

“You could make even that taste delicious, ____”

You dramatically roll your eyes, pushing away his chin as he continues to peck and nip at your neck. After showering Gray always made sure to rub in some cherry-blossom leave-in conditioner into his fur. The artificial perfumes just lightly touch your senses, but the mental connection they have to Gray make them smell that much sweeter. You turn and give him a quick kiss on the lips, patting his shoulder once more.

“Do you mind setting the table? Maybe get started on those messy dishes?”

“No problem.” Gray mumbles, reluctantly pulling away from you and tugging up the towel that hangs loose on his hips. He barely needs to reach for your fancy plates on the top shelf, his chest muscles flexing and bicep taut. Even with his thick fur, you can see the bone of his clavicle which accentuates his long neck.

God, he’s so hot.

You think, smirking a bit as you continue stirring.

And all mine.

You hum, but the cheery mood you’re in quickly sours once you remember your conversation with Mrs. Star. That small seed of doubt seems to grow and leech from your chest.

2 years into this relationship and the two of you have only danced around the conversation of the future. You of course had agreed on living together, what your career paths looked like, even the potential of getting married in a couple years, but never kids. As two 20-somethings, you felt like you had all the time in the world.

But the thing was, you didn’t really need all the time in the world.

You didn't want kids. Even with your family or your neighbors needing that your opinion “might change some day,” you were confident in that decision. Not that you hated them, you just could never picture yourself being a mom. A fun aunt, maybe, but never a mom. It wasn’t even a point of contention in your own mind; The picture of you, your partner, and maybe a couple of pets thriving into your elders was bliss enough.

You sneak a glance to Gray, now clothed and back turned to you as he sets the table. He’s diligently folding the napkins into fun shapes, a ritual he does every date night. From the hole in his jeans you can see his tail wagging, content as he hums to the low radio playing on the window sill.

A smile crawls onto your face, a small giggle escaping you as you watch Gray’s hips bob to the beat, silently mouthing the words. You snort as he does a dramatic little shoulder shift, Gray’s head whipping back towards the kitchen as you throw your hand over your mouth.

“What, don't you like my moves?” Gray says, shimmering his shoulders again, a large grin across his face.

“They could use some work, Kevin Bacon.” Gray clutches his chest, throwing his head back in mock pain.

“You wound me. After all these years, you would cut me so deep?”

“Sure would.” You turn back towards the simmering pasta, setting the wooden spoon on the rim and brushing your hands on your jeans. “Oof!” You squeak as you yanked away, Gray wrapping his arms around your waist, twirling you in a stumbling circle.

“And how ‘bout now, m’lady?” Gray simpers, eyebrow cocked. Your hands slap his chest as you laugh. He lets your feet back down on the floor, but keeps his arms locked around your waist. The two of you slow dance to the beat, and when the chorus hits, Gray gives his worst rendition possible. You bemoan and feign plugging your ears, but find yourself singing along anyway.

Everything about Gray is warm and bright, from his goofy grin to his excitable tail to his two left feet. He adds that pep of energy to your daily routine, pulling you out of an exhausting cycle for a quick jog to the beach or an episode of your favorite drama. Gray fills out all of those little spaces, makes them a little less gray.

Your head rests against his chest, feeling the fur through the fabric of his t-shirt as the two of you sway back and forth.

You want it to stay this way.

But that pestering weed squeezes your heart again, forcing images of Gray with a kid on his shoulders. Showing up to little-league football games with a big cooler and a “#1 dad” T-shirt. All those little moments, all without you.

You can’t fight the deep sigh, pressing your face even deeper into Gray.

Just let me have this. Just this moment, just for now.

-------

“Ugh, I think my stomach is going to explode from excess-pasta.”

Gray huffs, laying his head on your lap as the two of you slump onto the couch. His tail wags lazily, flickering back and forth as his legs swing over the coach's side, his long torso bunched up as he curls into you. The fur of his head is soft as you twist your fingers into it. “But I gotta say, what a way to go out.”

You giggle, losing your thoughts in his soft fur. Gray lets out another deep breath, nuzzling his face into your hand. You brush over his cheek with your thumb, admiring the cheekbone you feel just underneath.

But that burning question refuses to leave your mind, and you ask it without even thinking.

“Do you want kids, Gray?”

Gray’s eye’s stay closes, his posture relaxed as he sinks into your massaging fingers.

“Hmmm, maybe. Never really thought too much about it. Why?”

Your throat dries up, mind reeling. It wasn’t even a definitive yes, but your heart is still reeling. Your fingers pause and Gray's eyes open. He shifts his head when he sees the look on your face, concerned. “Babe?”

You nod, eyes still wide, trying to fight off the inklings of a panic attack. Gray pushes himself up on his elbows, paw quickly coming to caress your cheek. “Baby, is everything alright?”

You find the energy to breathe, and suck in deeply. Your heart begins to slow down as you look into Gray’s yellow wolf eyes. You dig your cheek into his large palm, smelling the perfume of his conditioner.

“Yes, sorry, I just-” You pause, taking another deep breath. “I ran into Mrs. Star in the grocery store, and-I’m sorry I’m overthinking things.” You mutter, patting yourself on the cheek as to snap yourself out of your mood. Grays other hand rubs the back of your neck.

“It’s okay, baby, I’m here. Did she say something?”

“No-Well, yes. It’s silly, typical Star things. She just brought up how ‘ought to get started having kids, and it just-” You let out a shaky sigh, pulling away Gray’s hand with your own and looking him straight in the eye. “I don’t want to have kids, ever.”

In Gray’s eyes, you expect to….something. Confusion, disappointment, maybe? But instead, all you see is relief. Gray rests his paw on your thigh, squeezing it.

“_____, is that what you’ve been worrying about?” You nod, throwing your eyes back down, but Gray tilts your chin towards him. “If you don’t want kids, we won’t have kids. Simple as that.”

Your eyes widen and you pull your face back.

“Seriously? But-what if-”

“____, I grew up with eight siblings. I’m going to have to deal with more nieces and nephews then I can count on my fingers and my toes, I think I can handle not having kids.”

A weight lifts off of your chest and you slump forward into Gray, pressing your forehead against his clavicles as you let out a long, relieved sigh. He laughs, patting your back and kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry you had to deal with this all day, I didn’t even realize you were so upset.”

You slap his chest, letting out another frustrated sigh. With him? No, but yourself, and Mrs. Star, for stirring up nightmares for no damn good reason.

“It’s not your fault, it’s mine for being so paranoid.” You press your chin up, pouty lips admiring your boyfriend's face. “I’m sorry for freaking out. She really got me into my own head.”

“No apologies needed baby.” Gray says, giving you a small peck. You send him a cheesy smile, chasing after his lips with a couple of small kisses. A low rumble growls out from his chest as you nip at his jawline. Behind him, you hear his tail begin to hump on the floor.

“Hmm, does that mean you feel better?” You nod, pressing another kiss into his pulse point.

“Yes, thank you for letting me get that out.” Another kiss, now on his Adam’s apple.

“Welp,” Gray says, quickly adjusting himself. In another second, you yelp as he picks you up by your butt, legs quickly wrapping around his waist, “Let’s give Mrs. Star something to talk about, hmm?”

You throw your head back with a laugh, clinging tight to his chest as Gray blows a raspberry into your neck. “That good with you, my lady?”

You nod, giving him another kiss on the lips as he carries you off into the bedroom.

Yeah, you have it good.

#monster romance #monster x reader #reader insert #female reader insert #female reader #werewolf x reader #my writing

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abluescarfonwaston · 4 years

Text

I’d know him blind

It didn’t come all at once. He’d really thought they’d made it out unscathed. That the box he’d opened in that mage’s abandoned laboratory hadn’t worked.

As they walked back thick fog rolled in. Obscuring the sky. The path ahead. The trees aside them. Even dimming Geralt and Roach a few paces ahead into off grey.

He jogged closer to them. Geralt gave him a look.

“What? Sorry I don’t want to get lost.”

“Why would you get lost?”

“Because?” He waved at the thick grey mist around them. “The fog Geralt? Not all of us can follow a scent trail. Even if it’s yours.” He fanned the thick smell of Geralt’s sweat away.

He stopped. Turned to him.

“Theirs’s no fog Jaskier.” Grabbed his face. Studying his eyes as the fog rolled in thicker. Obscuring even Roach right behind him. “It’s clear out.”

“Oh.” His hands started shaking and his eyes grew hot. “Then I suppose we have a problem.”

And Geralt’s face; hard and angry and concerned disappeared into the grey.

“Ah Master Witcher! Master Bard! Haven’t touched your room!” Something wooshed past his ear. Jangled at his side as Geralt moved oddly next to him.

“Thanks.” Geralt grunted moving him through the bar.

“Ah! Master bard!” Footsteps. Creaking wood. People talking. It was. It was a lot and nothing at all because he had no idea where or what or who it was. “You’ll be playing for us tonight yes? Dinner and a bath as agreed?”

“No.” Geralt growled. “He won’t.”

“Of course!” He agreed over top him. “I will however need a stage,” He didn’t remember if the bar had one. He preferred not to use them anyway. Moving through the crowds instead. But he doubted it did. “Or a chair at least. Our little adventure has left me a bit short sighted.” He grinned at where he hoped the man was.

There was a lull. Where the only noise was the bar. He shifted his feet.

“He’s blind.” Geralt said finally. He leaned a little harder into his solid mass. Steady and warm and there.

“Temporarily!” He quickly assured. The arm not wrapped around Geralt’s flapped. Smacking sharply into something. “Ow.”

“Oh!” The barkeep Seemed startled. He was further to the left than he’d thought. “We’ll set something up then! I hope you make a hasty recovery Master bard!”

“Jaskier is fine.” He assured. “Now if you’ll excuse us.” Geralt pulled him from the bar.

“Why’d you agree to play!” Geralt snapped at him after he’d been deposited on the bed.

“I don’t need eyes to play and sing Geralt. What? Am I supposed to just sit in this tiny room and twiddle my thumbs all week?” He yelled into the darkness.

Geralt exhaled with a forced slowness. “I need to go return this.” Metal sliding on metal. The chain of the necklace they’d been sent to retrieve. That had been locked in the box he’d opened. Very cleverly he had thought. “Stay.”

“Stay!” He barked. “I’m not a fucking dog!” He yelled at after him as the door closed and his footsteps faded away.

Something creaked. He flinched away from it.

The bed was firm under him. The blanket decent but not soft.

He drummed his fingers on his leg.

Someone walked passed the room.

He grabbed the blanket and found the wall. Carefully followed it into the corner. Curled up there with the blanket around him.

He couldn’t read. Write. There was no one to talk to anymore. Just him and the grey darkness.

He hoped if someone came into their room they wouldn’t spot him. Because he couldn’t run. Couldn’t fight. Not that he was particularly good at that normally. But he couldn’t tell if he was hidden. Because he couldn’t see.

He couldn’t see.

Geralt was gone and he couldn’t see and every time something made a sound he couldn’t identify he flinched.

Temporary. Should only last a week. Geralt assured.

But Geralt didn’t know that much about magic. Or he might have been lying. To keep him from panicking.

He was panicking now. But there was no one there to see. So he let himself.

And when he was too exhausted to panic more he fell asleep and he hardly noticed the difference because everything was dark anyway.

Someone was moving in the room.

He shoved himself into the corner tighter as the footsteps creaked the floorboards and he breathed in to scream-

His nose filled with the musk of onion and sweat.

He relaxed in a boneless heap. “You scared me Geralt. I thought you were a thief or something.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Unidentifiable ruffling joined his voice. “If you’re going to play you should go down soon.”

“Right.” He stood. Throwing the blanket in the direction of the bed. “Where’s my lute?”

There was the familiar sound of Geralt’s feet softly hitting the wood even in his boots. Far too delicate steps for a man of his size. He exhaled, the terror receding with the recognition of each step. It was gently placed in his outstretched hands.

He traced the wood. Her finish. Ran his fingers down her strings.

She was familiar. Safe. He didn’t need to see to know her.

“Alright. Help your best friend down the stairs will you?”

“We’re not friends.” He grumbled as he did exactly that.

Playing was wonderful. Even if he couldn’t dance with the songs. Move with them. Smile and wink effectively to charm the audience of their earnings.

The after was less fun.

People approaching. There was too much random noise to figure out who they were or where exactly they were. Talking to him. He chatted back. He always loved a conversation.

It was harder when he couldn’t see them. Judge how he was coming off aside from their tone of voice and words.

Something touched his knee.

He leaped back. Knocking the chair out from under him. Tripping on it as he backed away.

There were people asking him all kinds of questions at once and reaching out to touch him and-

Geralt’s hand wrapped around his bicep. The exact shape and warmth and way he always did. Hauling him up and away from the crowded room.

“Show’s over.” He growled.

He clung to Geralt as he was hauled from the room. Thrown over his shoulder.

He couldn’t keep track of the room or the people in it or where they were going. His eyes searched the darkness uselessly.

But the leather was familiar under his fingers.

The movement of it steadying.

Something creaked.

“Stop grabbing my ass Jaskier.”

“Wha- is that what this is?” He moved his hands slightly to better feel the muscle moving under the leather. “It’s very lovely. A lovely bottom.”

The world spun and the bed creaked under him as he was roughly dropped into it.

There were several moments of silence. He wondered if Geralt was glaring at him since he clearly wasn’t putting his Lute away for him.

“I know this might come as a shock to you but I can’t actually see you right now so whatever lecture you’re trying to impart with a stern face,” He demonstrated the expected face, “and disappointed eyes I can’t actually see. So they’re actually even less effective than normal. So there.”

“I.” A pause. “You panicked. Why?”

He grimaced into the pillow. Schooled his face and rolled onto his side. Propped his face on his palm facing Geralt’s general direction.

“I didn’t panic.” He scoffed and shook his head. “You kidnapped me from my adoring fans! Very rude Geralt.”

“You fell out of your chair.”

“Sabotage!” He said too quickly. “I was knocked out of my chair!”

“No you weren’t.”

“Are you telling the story or am I?”

“Tell it right then.” He growled.

His smile partially collapsed. It was a silly thing to have panicked over. He knew that. People touched him all the time.

He raised and lowered a shoulder casually rebuilding the easy smile. “Someone touched me and I over reacted. What a shame too. I’ve heard having sex blindfolded really ups the thrill of it and-“

“Stop.” Geralt groaned.

He barreled on anyway. “If anything doing it blind has to be its own experience. Really maximizing the sensory deprivation.” He rolled onto his back. “Put my lute away and come to bed. What are you doing? Standing there like a statue all night? Is that the plan? You are no longer allowed to make plans if that’s the case.”

He heard the quiet thump of her being hung up by the doorway. The soft padding of Geralt’s feet on the wood. He scooched over on the bed for him.

Geralt didn’t get in.

He frowned and pat the mattress obligingly.

“I touched you without asking too.”

He turned to him. The grey was almost black. So it was likely dark out. “So?”

Unhelpful silence.

He patted the bed again. “Either talk or lie down you broody old man.”

The bed creaked slightly. “I’m getting in.”

He snorted. “Gathered that thank you.”

A short huff of frustration. “Don’t want you to panic again.”

He rolled his eyes. “Well excuse me for wanting to know who’s touching me before they do.”

“I wasn’t-“ The bed creaked forebodingly. Hopefully it would stay in one piece. That had been an issue at some of the cheaper inns they’d stayed at.

He popped off his doublet and loosened the drawstring of his pants. He waited to hear the familiar sound of Geralt shuffling out of his leathers.

His side remained eerily silent.

“What are you doing- Sleeping in your clothing tonight? We don’t do laundry enough as it is. Don’t make it worse.”

“I didn’t.” An irritated sigh. He stared judgingly in his direction. “Fine.”

The familiar sound of Geralt struggling out of his deliciously form fitting pants.

He wrangled the blankets over him as he tossed his trousers aside.

“Geralt?”

“What?” Came the grit out reply.

“Stop being weird. I’m blind not glass.”

“I don’t need you screaming bloody murder into my ear if I roll over.”

He reached out into the darkness and grabbed for the irritating bastard.

“That’s my pec Jaskier.”

“You certain?” He fondled it a bit more. “Damn I forget how muscular you are sometimes.”

His hand was knocked away as he laughed. Quickly grabbed the offending arm in his before it could escape.

“It’s fine Geralt. I know you in the dark just fine. It’s not like I can normally see you once the lights go out anyway.”

A quite inhale and exhale.

Geralt shuffled closer. He curled into Geralt’s chest.

“Besides.” He yawned and draped an arm over him. “I don’t need to see you to know it’s you.”

I knew you by the way your feet hit the ground and your hand felt around my arm. He didn’t say. I know you by the way the leather moves over your muscles and you exhale.

Geralt snorted disbelievingly.

“It’s true.” He tucked a leg between Geralt’s and nuzzled himself to a comfortable position. “You’ve got a pretty strong smell.”

#whumptober2020 #no.26 #blindness #fic #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt #jaskier #writing #is this a companion piece to the white wolves?#Why yes it is #damn i need to work on that fic #also i wrote this on October 1st and SAT on it for a MONTH #so that takes discipline at least

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malloryslourd · 3 years

Text

So Much Better

Pairing(s): Mother!Misty Day x Reader, Mother!Cordelia Goode x Reader, Platonic!Zoe Benson x Reader, Platonic!Madison Montgomery x reader

Warnings: Alcohol Use, Smoking, Strong Language

Words: 3,560

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A/N: the end of this is so rushed... ANYWAYS😐

—————

"This party kinda sucks," Y/N knew she was yelling, but there was no other way to make sure Madison could hear her. Three hours ago her, Madison, and Zoe had claimed they were heading up stairs to go to sleep after dinner. In reality they were waiting for the household to settle so they could make their "grand" getaway out of Madison's room and to a party they had been invited to a week prior. There was no use in asking for permission to go, the answer was always no so they decided to answer the question themselves.

Madison looked at Y/N, almost offended at what she said. "The party is fine, you suck," she wrapped an arm around the witch's waist, pulling her out of the way of someone passing behind her. Y/N stepped back, pushing the arm off of her and grabbing the drink from Madison's hand. "There you go! That should make things a little more fun!" the blonde teased as she watch her finish what was left in the cup. Zoe had set out to get them all something new to drink so she wasn't as mad as she usually would've been.

Y/N nodded, slightly crushing the cup in her hand. "Hopefully... I'm starting to be over it already." The music was too loud to even understand what they were playing, there had been at least three fights within the past hour, and Zoe had been gone for a lot more than "just a minute" like she had promised. She would've had more fun actually studying or once she drunk something strong enough to fill a few of her senses.

As if God himself heard her thoughts, an arm stretched over her shoulder with a plastic cup almost too full to handle without a spill. "Take it before someone steals it," Zoe's words weren't any softer than Y/N's or Madi's. She handed the other cup to Madison, full just about the same amount but obviously falling victim to a few small spills. The girls took the cups, smelling of much stronger alcohol than what they had previously.

Zoe pressed up against Y/N's back, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you ma'am," Y/N took a sip of the drink. She could feel the hangover building from the one cup alone.

"See, already so much better."

—

"Hurry the fuck up!" Madison pulled Y/N behind her as she pushed pass people on the stairs. The drunken pair was laughing obnoxiously, tripping over their own feet as they tried to squeeze their way through groups of people who were somehow more drunk than them. Madison tried to open a door, failing on her first attempt and additionally giving herself a bruise to wake up to. She tried again, successfully turning the knob this time.

They were over taken with drunken laughter as they sat on the bed, Y/N falling back to look up at the ceiling. Madison took a hit of the vape she had convinced some guy to sell her for lower than half the price he was offering to everyone else at the party. She waved the device in front of Y/N's face, holding it in front of her lips when she nodded her head quickly. Y/N leaned forward, placing her hand on Madi's to hold it steady while she took her hit.

They laughed when Y/N blew the smoke back in her face. Madison laid back to lie down next to her. "Good thing Momma Delia doesn't know, she would have a fucking fit," Madison looked out of the corner of her eye to a now slightly pissed off Y/N. It was amusing to her just how quick she could make the witch's mood change. "Or maybe even Misty for that matter." She made herself laugh- Y/N, not finding it as funny as she did.

"If she knew this was your idea, let alone we just so happened to both be here, she would drag your ass again," Y/N rolled her eyes. She grumbled an insult when Madison jabbed her side, returning a softer elbow to her arm. "And Cordelia would just kick me out and call it a day."

"The fuck she would," Madison laughed. She looked at Y/N, chin basically resting on her shoulder. "Why the hell would she throw her pride and joy out to the curb? Me and Zoe would get abandoned before you did." Madison had a theory that Cordelia and Misty would empty the coven of everything but Y/N before they admitted she was at least a little responsible for her less than star-child behavior. In that theory she was the first to go.

"Whatever."

"What are you 'whatever'ing? It's true! Exactly how it fucking works actually."

"They don't hate you if that's what you're trying to say."

Y/N almost said it so low that Madison didn't hear. But she did, and that's what was important. "They do."

"They don't," Y/N looked at Madison, almost upset that's how she thought her mothers thought of her. "You're my friend... I wouldn't let them hate you, but you don't exactly help yourself.."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mo- Cordelia tries... We talked about it once, how you try sometimes to do your best but you always end up, like, doing shit to piss everyone off and start all over again," Y/N took Madison's hand, playing with the rings on her fingers. "Is this mine by the way?"

"Maybe."

"Cunt... Anyways!" Y/N rolled over. "Like, sad shit aside... They don't hate you, no one really does. Well I mean I hate you," she laughed at the way Madison rolled her eyes.

"Fuck you!" Madison took her hands out of Y/N's as she fought back the smile on her face.

"Now that's how you really get kicked out!"

The pair erupted into laughter. Madison took Y/N's hands this time, leaning to kiss her cheek. "That's how I get burned at the stake, don't even." They laid there for a while, laughing at random things the other said, sharing Madi's vape, and complaining about the music they were playing downstairs.

"Get the fuck up, we gotta fucking go."

Madison and Y/N looked over at the door- surprisingly still hanging on its hinges despite how hard it was thrown open. Zoe stood there as pale as a ghost, something the pair had chalked up to cheap booze mixed with even cheaper booze, or maybe even a bad hit from whatever some random was smoking. She rushed over to the pair, grabbing their hands and attempting to pull them up. She was determined, but evidently not enough to get them out of the bed.

Madison pulled her hand back, Zoe almost falling with it. "Okay... chill the fuck out," another puff of smoke traveled up the contours of the witch's face, disappearing into the air and leaving nothing but the smell of a cheap candy flavoring to linger for a moment. She noticed Zoe was red in the face, but couldn't decide if it was too much to drink red or anything a bit more serious.

Zoe had stopped pulling at Y/N's hand but held a firm grasp on it. "Do you think I'm fucking joking? Get your shit Madi," she took the puff out of Madison's hand, tossing it at the wall when she attempted to get it back. "Y/N get the hell up," another useless tug that barely made her move.

Y/N propped herself up with her free hand, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Zoe. She pulled Zoe down to be more level with her. "Why are you so uptight Zo? Like come on, it's a par-"

"-The neighbors called the fucking cops."

The drunken smile on Y/N's face turned into half-sober wide eyes. Madison, who at some point moved to the floor to find the discarded vape, shared the same expression as she looked over her shoulder. The stares lasted only for a few more seconds before they rushed to grab everything they owned in the room. There was no discussion necessary. They needed to leave as soon as they possibly could.

"You could've fucking said that!" Madison struggled to slip on her shoes. She lost her balance more than once, practically falling on top of both Zoe and Y/N at one point. "You were just gonna let us sit here until they walked in?"

Zoe rolled her eyes. "I'm so fucking sorry that I told you we had to leave and you were too busy laying on your ass! But hey, you're so fucking wasted you probably don't even remember!" Madison looked back at her, almost asking her to say something else to give her an excuse to bite back. No matter how good of a mood either of these were in they had always made a point to form some type of argument by the end of the night.

"Where the fuck is my phone? Oh my fucking God." Y/N was panicking, not even focused on the two about to fist fight behind her. She was sure they couldn't even hear her over the below the belt remarks they were making to one another.

"This was all your fucking idea!"

"It was Y/N's!"

"You wanted us to go out!"

"Shut up!"

"What are you even looking for?"

"My keys so we can actually fucking leave! We've got like thirty seconds to get out of here and you're standing there like a dumbass!"

"I'm the dumbass? Okay, says the bitch who probably got three different strands of mono tonight!"

"Both of you shut the fuck up and help me find my phone!" The pair turned their attention to Y/N who was pulling at the covers of the bed.

"I have your phone!" Zoe pulled the phone from her back pocket, holding it in front of her.

Y/N almost fell off the bed, catching herself with her hands moments before she tipped forward. "When the fuck did you get my phone?"

"When I had to talk you out of texting the fucking groupchat!"

"Give it a fucking break! Let's go!" Madison had already been making her way to the door. Zoe and Y/N looked at her then to each other before they followed after her, Y/N pulling Zoe after her as attempted to keep up with Madison.

Suddenly the blonde had stopped when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She looked back at Y/N and Zoe and before either of them could ask a question a police officer had already walked up to Madison.

—

“Do you know who I am?” Madison struggled to take her wrist out of the officer’s hand, scoffing at him as she turned around to look at him.

He sighed, turning her back around. “Quite frankly maam, I do not care who you are. And if you keep giving me trouble you’ll be taking the ride with your hands cuffed behind your back.” With that Madison stopped fighting, easily letting him guide her to the car Y/N and Zoe were already sat.

As soon as he opened the door she was met with two teary eyed witches. Zoe’s head rested against the window of the car, moving only slightly to look at Madison get in. Y/N’s head was rested on Zoe’s shoulder, tears a bit more visible on her face than the brunettes. “They’re gonna fucking kill us.”

Never did the thought of ending up in the back of a police car ever pass through Y/N or Zoe’s mind- Madison was a different story. She knew they were done for when Madison made a big deal of announcing their names to the police officer like it would make any difference in the outcome of the night. From that point forward she knew the next obstacle was her mothers. And that was going to be the biggest obstacle of the night.

—

The front door slammed hard enough to wake up the entire neighborhood. Y/N, Zoe, and Madison looked up at one another, each looking as if they had been to Hell and back in the span of the last few hours. Zoe's mascara had met at her chin and continued down her neck. She didn't have the perfect behavior, but she was yet to get caught so she was in a deep state of overthinking every decision in her life that had led up to this moment. On the other hand, Madison was conditioned to this already. She knew all the lines about disappointment and responsibility, but she had only seemed to look upset when she saw Y/N and Zoe.

Y/N had returned to stare off into the distance, hoping that possibly this was a really bad dream or even a trip from some secondhand smoke cloud she had walked through earlier that night. She didn't even have the energy to cry anymore, that was over with after the first turn in the direction of the police station. The silence of the car ride back to the academy was almost enough to make her start crying again, but she found herself paying attention to every small detail she could.

Cordelia's extremely white knuckles wrapped around the steering wheel as she broke every speed limit by at least 10 over. Zoe clicking her nails against each other as she readjusted in her seat every other second. Misty holding onto the handle above the passenger door almost as a way to fight back the urge to turn around and let the three of them hear every word she had built up on the way over. Even the slight sticky feeling that Madison's lipgloss had left on her cheek during their heart to heart in that strangers bed.

She was snapped out of her recollection of the night when Cordelia and Misty walked into the dining room where they were sat. Misty was red in the face, she hadn't said a word since the girls got into the car. Madison had sworn she was just a sitting statue in the passenger seat for most of the ride. Cordelia on the other hand had plenty to say when she first saw the girls. "Get in the car," the first words uttered. "What the hell were you three thinking? Are you all fucking idiots?" as they pulled out of the parking lot. "Out of all the things you could've done this what you decide to get caught up in!" just as they pulled up to the house.

As soon as Cordelia parked the car they had hurried inside, just barely hearing her say to wait in the dining room. Even then they couldn't say anything to one another. That's where they were left now, dizzy and tired as they waited for anyone to say anything. Misty took a seat across from the girls, Cordelia pacing behind her.

"We-"

"Don't fucking talk!" the girls shrunk at Cordelia's words, shocked at a harshness they were unfamiliar with. She hadn't stopped pacing, arms crossed firmly in front of her. "I don't want to hear any of you talk, not a single fucking word. Oh my God, how fucking stupid can you be!" Cordelia paused for just a moment. She had been thinking about this almost the entire ride over, yet couldn't find the words to say what she wanted to say. "Anything could have happened tonight and we didn't know where you were, and I sure as Hell hope you weren't stupid enough to get anyone else tangled in this!"

Y/N looked at Zoe, who was staring at her lap, then to Madison, who was staring up at Cordelia. She couldn't help but notice the dramatic difference in how they were taking it. She looked over at her mothers, Cordelia pacing again, Misty staring straight at her. She followed Zoe and fixed her gaze on her own lap.

"It was my idea." Focus in the room switched to Madison. She leaned back in her charge and let out a long breath. Weighing her options, it made the most sense for her to take the fall or this. It was in character for her. "I asked them to-"

"Madi," Y/N cut her off quickly. “It was me... I mean... Fuck,” she ran a hand over her face, hands slightly shaking as she did so. “They were my friends who invited me, I asked Zoe and Madison to go. Going to the party was my idea.” It wasn’t right in her mind to let Madison go down for this just ‘cause. It was her friend’s party. It was her idea to go out tonight. It was her who asked them to go with.

Shock took over Misty’s and Cordelia’s expressions. Cordelia stopped pacing, head turned to look at her daughter. Misty shook her head, “You don’t have to lie for her.”

Madison’s mouth fell agape. Y/N furrowed her brow. “I’m not,” she stated at Misty who obviously thought she had the whole situation figured out beforehand, but was now struggling to understand what was actually happening.

Cordelia leaned onto the table next Misty, staring just as hard at Y/N as Misty was. “Zoe, Madison, go to your rooms,” her gaze didn’t leave Y/N’s as she took the seat next to Misty. Zoe and Madison shared a brief look with one another before they hurried out room, afraid Cordelia might change her mind.

“Really?” Misty’s question was laced with venom, a look of utter disbelief sealing her tone.

Y/N nodded, wringing her hands in her lap. “I know,” she was soft spoken. “They don’t deser-“

“-Quite frankly, I don’t really want to talk about those two,” Cordelia held up her hand. She was biting back her tone, afraid if she was too loud she would wake everyone else from their sleep. “This all comes down on you.” It almost hurt her to admit.

Misty sat back in her chair, barely diverting her gaze. “Madison, I expect this from. You and Zoe? Never in a million years,” she spoke so calmly Y/N could feel chills travel up her spine. Misty’s anger was unlike Cordelia’s. Cordelia was simply just an angry Cordelia who would let a few more words slip than usual. Misty was a different person. Her smile faded, she offered no kind words, and she was willing to get years worth of tension and anger off of her chest in mere minutes if she so pleased. “I don’t think you understand what could’ve happened tonight.”

“God knows what type of trouble you three could have gotten in while we were here.”

“Trouble might’ve done you some good, especially if you think any of this is acceptable.”

Y/N nodded her head. The tears she was deprived of since the ride in the back of the police car were fighting to be released by now. “I’m sorry.”

“Save it,” Misty shook her head. Even Cordelia was a little shocked to hear her, possibly because she had never talked to Y/N like this. “We raised you so much better than this. It’s disrespectful!” her voice rose with her temper. “You would think you would have no reason to act out like this! But no, lets end up in the back of a fucking police car by the end of the night!”

Y/N couldn’t find anything to say, she was at a lost for words looking at her mother. She couldn’t remember the last time she had raised her voice at her. Every apology she could think about was stuck in her throat. They wouldn’t have much effect anyways.

“You’re better than this Y/N,” Cordelia spoke softer than Misty, but no less stern.

“You’re damn right she is.”

A sigh left the Supreme’s lips. She was tired, eyes heavy and barely put together enough to even look like herself. “It’s disappointing to us to know you’re better than this and for you to still go out and do something like this,” her volume rose slightly, obviously able to handle her temper much more than Misty. As much as she knew what she did was wrong, Cordelia couldn’t deny that this was her baby. She had felt more disappointment in herself than she did her.

Misty stood, face red and knuckles whitened from how hard she was clenching her fist. “You’ll think of some way to apologize for this, possib- hopefully,” she held on to the back of the chair, looking down at Y/N. “Whatever the hell this is,” she waved her hand around, “I want it fucking fixed and nothing short of fixed. The day any fucking child of mind tries to pull that shit is a horrible fucking day for this coven.” And with that she pushed the chair against the table and turned to leave, muttering unseeing her breath about “how unbelievable” this all was.

Y/N watched as she walked out of dining room, Cordelia following right after with no less speed. She could feel the anger in the room dissipate, but every word her mothers shared with her were still there as if they were being repeated right in front of her face once again.

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