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#especially when i drink wine
m0etenchandon · 1 month
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Is this the part where I go: "is this thing on?"
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ingravinoveritas · 9 months
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Just went to the liquor store where I was purchasing two bottles of wine (not something I typically do, but I was out of one of them, and needed that and the other one for cooking, as I cook with wine), and I got up to the register with the cashier and complimented her hair (which was a very pretty shade of blue-purple), and apropos of absolutely nothing, she looked at me and goes, "Oh my God, are you pregnant?" And I was completely taken aback and then responded with, "Christ, no." Haha. I mean...maybe my posture isn't the best, and I didn't have a bra on so my breasts weren't sticking out, but I'm pretty sure that's something you're not supposed to say to someone, like...ever.
(She then also proceeded to tell me that she has one son, and lifted her shirt to show me her stretch marks. Just...what even?!)
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chiefguideandcentre · 2 years
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Kiki’s delivery service is a new comfort movie for me
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oatbugs · 2 years
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the reflection of the sun on the windows of the train is casting light in rivers + woods + streams + fields . anyway photons are made of angels .
#the sun glitter from the rim of my glasses and lipgloss and the gold snowflake necklace my mother gave me reflected in the window mixed#with the glints of sun on water . sunwine . everything turns into angels and wine (which is also love which is also blood) again .#the boy with the long hair had his head in a mess that time. took a drag of a cigarette offered by a lovely addict . J with tears in his#voice and too much to drink . i looked him in the lungs with my broken heart and i asked why are you doing this and he took a drag and#took another step . ice cold eye to vodka-blessed eye . sighed the smoke out in my face and smiled .#later it was 3 AM and it was us in a park lying on the floor and talking about everything and nothing and i was studying the writing on his#shirt and the way he blinked more when he laughed . i dragged him away by the elbow (pain inhibited by alcohol but either way his black#belt could stop me and my lousy one year of cranes and bloody knuckles) and i asked him i love you and what the fuck was that and you said#you wouldnt you said you wouldnt . and by the end of that conversation i loved him more than i did before and his hair was tidier and#twice as long . today i gave him a ticket and hugged him goodbye tight enough to almost break his neck.#you and her are the only two i showed my canines to. (i cannot evenly remember the steps are full of glass) ill miss you forever.#even if i see you again. especially if i will see you again. her hand on my back when i dont stand straight the life you have is the life i#lost to messy politics. saturn jupiter confer breaking of the wall in the morning . server of heavens silent wanderers break oh holy light#each time someone ruins our collective lungs ichor i miss the ichor inside malboro gold . pinprick tears when my mother#told me to wait until morning . wait until morning and we can figure this out. otherwise i am on the verge of cold blooded murder.#either i am a horrible person or almost 20 ( both equally sound explanations )#mei with an e ، meaning wine. hate the wine but love the poetry and the angels and what hating the wine means at all.
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ikkan · 1 year
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y’all if actually make to my birthday at this point. i’ll be shook.
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months
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do you believe me now?
in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)
series masterlist
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!
“You’re so pretty.”
It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues. 
“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”
You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong. 
His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“…I do.”
It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs. 
“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”
The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface. 
Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.
“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”
Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.
“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”
That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more. 
“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”
“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”
Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment. 
“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”
“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable. 
“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness. 
“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”
His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak. 
“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”
A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you. 
“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”
“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”
He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” 
You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down. 
“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”
“Sex?”
You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!” 
He laughs again, a little less reserved this time. 
“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”
“No! Too scary!”
Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder. 
“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”
“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”
“That’s impossible.”
Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.” 
His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could. 
“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”
The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs. 
“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”
When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips. 
“I sleep with my eyes open.”
“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”
You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”
“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”
“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”
“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”
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Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade. 
Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt. 
“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin. 
“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.
“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“
“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”
Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh. 
“I did not get all weird.”
“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”
He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”
Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak. 
“Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”
And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles. 
“Now you’re getting brave?”
“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”
The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg. 
“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly. 
“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”
A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs. 
“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”
“Is that what happened?” he teases. 
“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents. 
Almost. 
“Slow down.”
He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed. 
“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”
His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention. 
“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him. 
Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm. 
“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”
His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him. 
“Okay.”
A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back. 
Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”
Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them. 
“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again. 
“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”
You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—
“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”
Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”
It works for him. 
When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good. 
Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs. 
“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips. 
“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice. 
“You’re sensitive, huh?”
“S—sometimes.”
 He hums contemplatively. 
“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”
You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum. 
“About what?” 
“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine. 
The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.
“You.”
“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”
Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.
“Really?” 
“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?” 
You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”
“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”
You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again. 
His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”
“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you. 
A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away. 
“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet. 
“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes. 
“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”
“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it. 
“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”
But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message. 
Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky. 
“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”
It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort. 
Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh. 
“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly. 
His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile. 
“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”
“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily. 
“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”
Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck. 
“Did you like it?”
“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly. 
“Then we both did it right.”
“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.” 
“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”
Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?” 
“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”
The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy. 
“Because I can’t have you all the time.”
“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”
He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”
“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids. 
He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin. 
“You’re shockingly precocious.”
You hum. 
“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”
He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”
“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you. 
He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;
I love you
I love you
I love you. 
-
part two
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rosesinvitro · 1 year
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do i have a fucking drinking problem or is this just what being an adult is like
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olivcrquick · 1 year
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neil-gaiman · 5 months
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Hi Neil,
I know you probably get a lot of these every day, and there's no pressure to respond, just know you inadvertently made me feel pretty.
Context, I'm chronically ill and can't work out or be very active most of the time. I'm currently the heaviest I've ever been, especially around Halloween. I decided to dress as a Fem!Crowley for Halloween, despite being so heavy.
And yet, when I got on the wig and the sunglasses and did my eyes up all gold and red, holding my favorite drink to look like wine and holding my gfs potted plant like a baby... I felt so gorgeous. I felt like the prettiest little gal on the planet. I felt like a dashing little devil. I wore that costume to school, and I didn't even care that people were staring at me????
So thank you so much for creating these wonderful beautiful characters that let people feel more confident than we normally would!!
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You look gorgeous. I'm glad Crowley helped you feel beautiful.
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smileysuh · 8 months
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twisted fate
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🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. “He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in- “Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily. At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.
tw/cw. murder/blood, dickhead vampire wonwoo, yandere subthemes, kidnapping?, biting, blood play, throat grabbing, manhandling, begging, controlling!wonwoo, praise, dirty talk, fingering, mean dom Wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, finger-licking, choking, unprotected sex, big dick Wonwoo, size kink, slight dacryphilia, gentle spanking, dumbification, begging, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) darling, brat, pet, etc.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 14.3k
🍭 aus. vampire/vampire hunter au, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I guess for October I just put out bangers, this one has a lot of blood play cuz it's vampire wonwoo, so be warned
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There’s something different about you, and Wonwoo notices the moment you step into the bar. He has his fair share of experience with places that cater to vampires, and after over a hundred years, he knows how to spot humans with an interest in his kind. Many of the women swarming around him have a certain look in their eye, their pulses racing with excitement, but you… well, there’s something off about the way you hold yourself.
You certainly look the part of a fang bunny, your attire all black, but you’re dressed much more conservatively than the lingerie clad girls that normally frequent this place. Still, even with your form half hidden under a leather jacket, Wonwoo can tell he likes what he sees of you. 
Some of his friends like the hunt. They have big egos and take pleasure in chasing their food down, but Wonwoo doesn’t share in this thirst for a conquest. He won’t approach you, he’ll simply watch. It will be amusing to see what you end up doing tonight if nothing else.
His eyes follow you as you head to the bar, leaning over the counter to talk with one of the human workers. From a distance, and with the bar practically full of noise, Wonwoo can’t make out your words, but that doesn’t really matter to him. You’re interesting enough to watch, but Wonwoo’s not sure he’d actually care for anything you have to say, especially not when he can stare at your ass instead.
The discussion is a short one, and Wonwoo catches the bartender nodding in his direction. This is new behaviour, but the vampire supposes he shouldn’t be shocked at the loose lipped humans who work here. No one keeps a secret like a vampire, and as Wonwoo watches you slip a bill over the counter, he’s filled with annoyance at the money hunger of mere mortals.
You slip into the crowd again, and it’s clear you’re making your way over toward the elevated section of the club, where Wonwoo sits at a table drinking what appears to be red wine with two of his broodmates. 
“Who are you watching?” Mingyu asks, leaning forward to get a better look. 
“No one important,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, swirling the blood in his wine glass before downing it. He’s curious as to what will happen next, and if you are coming over in the hopes of being bitten, he wants to be satiated enough to not give into the temptation of draining you. 
Vampire bars generally have a strict no killing policy. The underworld has few sanctuaries like this one, and they can’t have human law enforcement going through their ‘wine barrels’ if a murder takes place in or around the property. 
Wonwoo’s eyes find you again. You’re much closer now, and your gaze is fixed on him. You’re like a cute little butterfly heading straight for the spider’s web, and it makes Wonwoo grin to himself. 
He stands up from the booth when you’re a few feet away, and Wonwoo notes your pulse quicken, your steps faltering. To your credit, Wonwoo is much larger now than when he was sitting, and he has to lower his gaze to meet your own. “Are you lost?” he asks, taking in your outfit at a leisurely pace now that you’re right in front of him.
“No, I-” You take a breath. “Are you Wonwoo?”
“Depends who’s asking,” he muses.
“I’ve been looking for you,” you try to explain, raising your voice over the noise of the bar. 
Wonwoo can hear you perfectly fine, but he knows the noise must be difficult on your weak human ears. He leans forward. “Sounds interesting. Let’s step outside to talk, it’s too loud in here.”
He watches the way you pause, considering the proposition.
You’re definitely not a fang bunny. Any vampire lover would jump at the chance to get alone with him. You’re much too guarded, and it intrigues him even more.
“Okay,” you nod. 
Wonwoo steps closer, hand finding the small of your back as he begins to guide you through the club toward the back exit. You stiffen under his touch, and Wonwoo’s fingers skim over the hilt of what he presumes to be a blade under your leather jacket.
He wonders how you got in with a badly concealed weapon, but he supposes the human bouncers can be just as susceptible to bribery as bartenders can. He’ll have to talk with the club owner about hiring vampire security, even if such jobs are ‘below’ his kind. 
Your heart rate is increasing with each step, but you’re doing your best to breathe evenly, and Wonwoo is amused by it. Either you know he’s a vampire, in which case, you should know you can’t fool him, or, maybe you’re just stupid, he can’t quite tell.
Wonwoo’s heart doesn’t beat. It hasn’t in too many years to count, but he gets that familiar tingle of excitement running along his skin as he gets closer to the door that will lead you behind the bar. You’re not a sure catch, not what Mingyu would fondly call a ‘cute juicebox.’ Wonwoo’s always been curious, and his interest is peaked by the unknown outcome of this interaction.
As you make it to the exit, Wonwoo holds the door open for you. With one last pause, you walk through. 
The vampire grins to himself, following you into the night.
The alleyway is deserted, the perfect spot for Wonwoo to figure you out. 
His eyes follow you as you put a few feet of distance between him and yourself, running an anxious hand through your hair. 
“You were just about to tell me why you’re looking for me,” Wonwoo says, pretending to be helpful, when in reality, he only wants to satiate his own curiosity.   
“I heard you might know someone I’ve been trying to find, a Mister Sung.”
Wonwoo’s throat tightens. He hasn’t heard his maker’s name in many years. It frustrates him that it still has an effect on him, and Wonwoo’s fist clenches at his side. “I don’t know anyone by that name,” he lies. 
“I’ve been told you do,” you insist.
He’s tired of you now, anger growing by the second inside of him.
“I don’t know anyone by that name,” Wonwoo repeats, unable to say the name in question. He refuses to taste it on his lips again, and he can feel his fangs beginning to throb, his need to taste something sweeter growing as he stares you down. 
You begin to reach for your jacket, but you’re much too slow for the older vampire, who immediately catches your wrist in a vice grip. 
“Don’t grab your weapon,” he warns. “It will only make me harder on you.”
Your pulse is racing now. Wonwoo can see your carotid artery leaping against your skin. He holds back a groan, stepping closer. 
You move away, back hitting the brick wall behind you.
“Nowhere to run,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re a vampire hunter, aren’t you, darling? Shame. I’ve never seen a hunter move as slow as you do. But I guess these days there aren’t many people who could teach you the craft, I’ve killed my share of them.”
Your pupils dilate with fear, and it makes Wonwoo’s head spin. He’s going to enjoy this. 
The club might have a no killing humans policy, but vampire hunters are free game. He’ll be doing everyone a favour, and get his fill while doing it. 
“Stop-” You gasp, struggling against his grip, but Wonwoo’s hands might as well be metal, as there’s no way you’re breaking free of him.
He’s grown tired of this. As a curious human who may have walked into the wrong bar, you’d been interesting, but as a vampire hunter with no skill, you mean nothing to him. 
He’s amused when you try to punch at him with your free hand, but that only leads to him grabbing it and pinning it with your other wrist, squeezing you tight enough to have you gasping again. 
With both your wrists captured in one hand, he’s free to bring the other to your face, pinching your jaw. “Don’t scream,” he warns you, “and don’t struggle, you’ll only make things worse.”
Wonwoo’s gotten accustomed to staring into a person’s eyes as they realize they’ve just met death himself, and he’ll never get tired of it. He licks his lips, able to taste your fear in the cold night air. His self control has worn thin, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to hold himself back from an easy kill. 
With one sharp motion, he pushes your head to the side, giving him full access to your neck. Your artery leaps, pressing against your skin, and Wonwoo lets out a groan of relief as he dives in, sharp fangs piercing you.
You release a muffled gasp, clawing at his forearm while you struggle against the wall. The taste that erupts across his tongue is unlike anything he’s ever had before. It’s rich like fine red wine, but there’s something else too, dark notes of cherry and pomegranate- 
Suddenly, it feels like Wonwoo’s been roughly punched in the chest. It’s so startling that he pulls away from you, staggering back in confusion and releasing your wrists. Clearly you didn’t punch him, so what was that-
You take the moment of confusion to whip your blade out of your jacket, holding one hand to your bleeding neck while you defend yourself with the other. “Stay back!” 
But Wonwoo can’t stay back, not now that you’re more intriguing than ever.
He stands, licking his lips. He can still taste you on his tongue, and it’s practically intoxicating. 
Wonwoo’s eyes shift to the weapon you’re holding. It’s a black, triple bladed knife, used by vampire hunters and meant to emulate a stake. One good stab from that and there’s no stitching it up, he’d be scarred forever, even with vampiric healing abilities. And if you actually hit his heart? He’d simply be gone.
Maybe you have more bite than he’d given you credit for, but Wonwoo knows he can still best you in a fight, he’ll just have to be a little more careful.
“I swear to God-” you warn him, waving the blade.
“Darling, there’s no God here,” Wonwoo tells you simply, eyes assessing your every motion. It’s clear which side of your body you favour, and with one hand still pressed to your bleeding neck, he has an easy opening.
When Wonwoo moves to the left, you turn your body to follow, and that’s all he needs to abuse your weak point. With lightning fast speed, Wonwoo gives your abdomen a rough push, sending you careening back to the wall. There’s a harsh crack as your head hits brick, and you crumple to the ground, blade falling from your hand.
Maybe he’d pushed you too hard- he hadn’t been trying to- but he can still hear your faint breaths. You’re alive, and you might not be that way for long.
Wonwoo has never, in all his years of living, given another being his blood. He’s never wished to. But staring down at you now, that all changes. He can hear your pulse getting weaker-
The vampire falls to his knees next to you, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you closer. He brings his other wrist to his mouth, biting deep before holding it over your parted lips. 
 Wonwoo watches the dark red substance speckle your tongue and he presses two fingers under your jaw, closing your mouth in the hopes it will help you swallow. His wrist wound is already healing, and soon, you’ll heal as well.
There’s no medicine in the world quite like vampire blood, especially the blood of one as old as he. Wonwoo knows this. However, there’s still something inside of him that begins to worry about you. It’s a foreign emotion, worry, one he’s not had to deal with in a while, especially not in regard to a human.
Wonwoo grabs your blade off the ground, tucking it into his belt, then he adjusts you in his arms. It’s easier to simply throw you over his shoulder, so that’s what he does, standing up and looking toward the mouth of the alleyway. He can’t risk any humans seeing this, so he pulls out his phone, calling Mingyu.
“Bring the car to the back of the club,” Wonwoo instructs, leaving no room for argument as he hangs up. 
Less than two minutes later, Mingyu’s familiar black jeep is rolling down the alleyway. The car comes to a stop and Mingyu exits it, staring at Wonwoo in shock. “What happened?”
“Vampire hunter,” Wonwoo says simply, opening the door to the back of the jeep to set you inside. 
“What are you going to do with her?” Mingyu asks, watching through the rearview mirror as Wonwoo gets in beside you.
The elder vampire is quiet for a long while. “I’m not sure.”
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Wonwoo is sitting in a chair near the bed, playing with your knife and watching over you diligently. It takes hours before you finally begin to stir. When you wake, you bolt upright, gasping. Your hand flies to your neck, but the wounds are already closed, your skin washed away of blood.
Your eyes find him next, and Wonwoo can’t help but be amused by the way you react, cowering away from him.
“So sleeping beauty finally wakes up,” Wonwoo muses, tossing the blade in his hand and catching it by the hilt.
You don’t say anything, but Wonwoo can see the cogs turning in your mind. “Why… why am I alive?”
“That’s a good question,” one he doesn’t know the answer to yet. 
“Am I a vampire?” 
Now Wonwoo is laughing. “No. Can you feel your heart racing? It’s a sign that you’re still human.”
You shift in his sheets. “What are you going to do to me?”
“I’m not sure yet,” he confesses. “First, I’d like some answers.”
“I’m not telling you anything.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I know,” he suggests. “This symbol on your blade, it’s a family crest. You belong to a line of vampire hunters.” You stay quiet, but to be fair, it hadn’t been a question, not really. “I recougnize this particular crest. It’s odd to see it again after so many years. I thought your line had been wiped out, but you’re still here, so I guess not.”
“Just kill me,” you state.
Your words cause an interesting feeling to bloom through Wonwoo’s chest again, and he cocks his head. “Is that really what you want?”
You bite your lip, then let out a heavy sigh. “No.”
The vampire stands from his chair. “At least I know why you were looking for Mister Sung now,” he says. “He killed your family, didn’t he?”
You stay quiet, but Wonwoo notes the small tremble that erupts through your form and it’s confirmation enough. 
“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo continues, “the vampire you’re looking for is dead. I killed him. Ten years ago.”
“He’s dead?” you ask, clearly shocked.
“It seems you’ve been running a fool's errand, darling,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “And you nearly died for it. I don’t think your parents would be too happy with you.”
It’s a low blow, and it causes a reaction. Your fists bunch in the sheets and your eyes narrow. “What do you know about my parents?” you spit. 
“I know they never got a chance to train you properly. I bet you’ve never even killed a vampire.”
Your shoulders slump ever so slightly and Wonwoo knows he’s hit the nail on the head.
“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt,” Wonwoo laughs, “it’s cute you thought you could actually get me to be your first.”
“If you have everything figured out, what do you still need me for?”
“There’s still one thing I’m stuck on,” Wonwoo admits. “You did something to me, when I bit you. There was this… feeling, in my chest.”
“I didn’t do anything to you.”
He studies you for a moment. It’s true he hadn’t found any vampire repellents on you when he’d brought you back to his home. He’d kind of been hoping you’d tell him you’re a witch, and in a last ditch effort to get him away from you in the alley you’d used a spell of some sort. 
Wonwoo doesn’t want to consider the other possibility, he’s been refusing to even think about it, but now that the witch angle is off the table, the worst case scenario is at the forefront of his thoughts.
“I’ve got business to attend to,” he tells you simply, heading to the door. “You’ll be locked in this room until I figure out what I’m going to do with you.”
“And when will that be?!”
Wonwoo can hear the panic in your voice, and in some form he can sympathize with it. He’d been kept in a room for many years, under the command of a vampire sire he’d since revenged upon. “Not long,” Wonwoo promises, and it’s the most he can give you as reprieve before he shuts you into your fate.
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“What’s so important we couldn’t do this over the phone or at the club?” Jeonghan asks as Wonwoo pushes into his home. 
“Give me a minute,” Wonwoo says, double-checking his friend's apartment for any fang bunnies or other vampires who could take what he’s about to say and use it against him.
“You’re so paranoid,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “You wanted us to be alone, so we’re alone.”
Wonwoo turns to face the vampire in front of him. “Tell me about Luna.” 
“You-” Jeonghan falters. “You never want to hear about Luna.”
“But I do now,” Wonwoo insists. “Tell me.”
Jeonghan moves to sit on his couch, and Wonwoo can tell that the mere name of Jeonghan’s lost love is nearly too much for him to handle, even after so many years.
“What do you want to know?” Jeonghan asks finally.
“You said she was your soulmate.”
“And you called me crazy for it, everyone did.” Perhaps this is another reason it’s such a sore subject. 
“Not everyone,” Wonwoo points out. “Sung didn’t like it.” 
Jeonghan visibly flinches at the name of their old master, and it’s no wonder why. Sung had gone after anything his fledglings found beautiful, and much more. It’s one of the many reasons Wonwoo had found a way to kill him, ending their eternal torment… but he’d been too late to save Luna, and it’s something he’s always regretted. Jeonghan is a shell of who he was before, and deep in Wonwoo’s black twisted soul, he knows that the man he used to call one of his closest friends will never truly be whole again. 
“She was my soulmate,” Jeonghan says, but at this point, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that fact.
“How did you know?” Wonwoo presses.
“It was a feeling, I can’t really explain it.”
“Try.” 
Jeonghan lets out a deep sigh. “There was something about Luna, I knew it the moment I first saw her. I couldn’t describe it, especially not to any other vampires. She wasn’t just prey, she was more than that.”
She was enough for Jeonghan to turn her into a vampire, intent on spending the rest of eternity with her, an eternity that never came, for one of them at least.
“The first time I tasted her,” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair. “She was like citrus and sunshine, I’d never experienced anything like her.” This is far off from the red wine and pomegranates Wonwoo had tasted when he’d had you. “It was the oddest thing- there was this feeling, in my chest-”
“Like a punch,” Wonwoo suggests.
Jeonghan’s eyes shift to him, and then he nods. “Yeah, like a punch.”
Wonwoo almost feels sick. “I still don’t understand how this made you realize she was your soulmate.”
“I couldn’t hurt her,” Jeonghan explains, “even if I’d wanted to. And when I tasted her again, when she let me drink from her, I realized what the feeling in my chest was.”
“What was it?” 
Jeonghan studies Wonwoo. “It was my heart.”
“Your heart?” 
The long haired vampire nods. “An echo. A memory of the life I once had. Luna made my heart beat again, if only when I was with her. She made me soft, like I’d been when I was human, before Sung and the eternal night.”
Wonwoo sits on the couch across from Jeonghan, looking down at his hands.
This can’t be true. Wonwoo had never believed it before- but now, well, now he’s experienced it for himself. 
How can a vampire’s whole long life change in one chance meeting?
Except, it hadn’t been chance, not really. Sung had ruined your life as he’d ruined Wonwoo’s, and fate had inexplicably tied you together. 
He truly can’t believe it.
“Why do you want to know all of this?” Jeonghan asks.
Wonwoo almost doesn’t want to admit it, for Jeonghan’s sake as much as his own. So he lies. “No reason.”
Jeonghan leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve found your own soulmate.” When Wonwoo remains silent, Jeonghan lets out a small laugh. “I feel sorry for any human unlucky enough to be tied to you.”
“I do too,” Wonwoo sighs. His indifference - and sometimes hatred - towards humans is well known in the vampire circles Wonwoo is a part of. He’s generally cold, unfeeling, a true vampire, the way his master made him. In fact, out of all twelve of Wonwoo’s broodmates, he’s likely the most successful by Sung’s measurements. He’d surely been the most strategically blood thirsty, and it had cost their former master his life. 
“You won’t be able to kill her,” Jeonghan warns. “Won’t be able to run away. If you’ve tasted her blood, if you’ve felt your heart, it’s only a matter of time until you give in again.”
Wonwoo hates that this is true. You’ve been on his mind the entire time he’s been away from you, and it’s already driving him insane. He’s not used to thinking about another being for long periods of time, least of all a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter.
“You’ll end up turning her,” Jeonghan concludes. “It’s the only way. Humans are fragile, and I know how much you hate to see weakness.”
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You’ve been trying to find a way out of the bedroom for ages. There are no clocks, nothing to tell you what time it is, but you know dawn is coming, you can see it through the large windows that make up an entire wall of the room.
There’s safety in sunshine, and you’re extremely hopeful that it comes before Wonwoo does.
But your luck is not your own today, as you hear something outside the door just as the morning rays begin to creep through the glass. 
You make your way to the windows, pressing your body against them and waiting for the vampire to return. He takes his sweet time, and for that, you’re grateful. The room is half illuminated by the time Wonwoo opens the door, and he peers inside at you.
“What are you doing?” he asks, studying your seated form, back to the glass and morning sun.
“Protecting myself,” you fire back.
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, looking down where the sun reaches on the floor. Then, he steps into it. “Do you really think I’d have a room without tinted glass? The sunlight can’t touch me here. This is my safe haven, not yours.” 
Fuck.
“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me?” you ask, feeling defeated.
“I’ll let you know when I do,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, walking over to the closet. 
He’s left the door wide open, and you eye it, wondering if you can make your escape.
“Don’t even think about it,” the vampire warns. “You won’t get far. I’ve installed an extra lock on my front door too, so even if you make it there, you have no way out.”
“How many people have you killed here?”
“None.” Wonwoo is looking through his clothing casually, back to you. You’re not sure if you can believe him. “Go on, check the doors.”
You dart from the room, quickly getting your bearings in the small but luxurious apartment. When you make it to the front door, you find he’s not lying. There’s an extra deadbolt on it, and try as you might, you can’t get it open.
You move to the kitchen next, looking for knives of any kind- but there’s literally nothing to be found in any of the cabinets. You suppose a vampire has no use for utensils or food- 
Instead, you unplug a lamp, picking it up to use as a bludgeoning weapon if the need arises. You stare toward Wonwoo’s bedroom, and he crosses your line of sight. He’s shirtless now, a pair of sweatpants low on his hips.
The sight is gone far too soon, and you wait, frozen with your lamp. 
Wonwoo doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t come out of his room.
After a few minutes, you go to peek inside. The vampire is laying in his bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to sleep,” he muses almost lazily. “It’s been a long night.”
You’d heard rumours about vampires needing sleep, but you hadn’t actually believed the tales. 
“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask.
“Get comfortable,” Wonwoo sighs. “You’re not going anywhere.” He opens his eyes when you stay standing in his doorway. “Put the lamp down.”
“No.”
The vampire lets out a laugh. “Suit yourself.”
“I’ll kill you in your sleep,” you warn him.
“No you won’t.” Wonwoo rolls onto his side, facing away from you. The covers are around his hips, and you get a good view of his excessively broad shoulders. His skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight, only muscles for days.
You lower the lamp a little. 
This man is crazy. Absolutely batshit insane. 
You watch the vampire as he drifts to sleep, and as soon as you feel you’ve waited a substantial amount of time, you begin to tiptoe to his closet. Your blade has to be somewhere.
You’re hyper aware of the fact that at any moment, Wonwoo could wake up. You keep your noise level to a minimum, rifling through his things. Finally, after what feels like forever, you feel the tip of your blade under your fingers as you look through a folded pile of hoodies. 
The twisted knife pulls out from the fabric and you have to fight the urge to cry out in happiness. When you look over your shoulder, you find the vampire still asleep. He’s on his back now, and it would be the perfect opportunity to stake him.
You’re aware that if you kill him, it will be much harder to leave the apartment, but you’re confident that if you bang on the front door long and loudly enough, someone will come save you. 
You begin to tiptoe toward the bed, adjusting your grip on the knife. 
If there’s one thing you can say about vampires in general, it’s that they’re beautiful. Wonwoo looks absolutely angelic, even while asleep. You falter at the edge of the mattress, simply watching him. If he hadn’t nearly killed you last night, you might hesitate longer, but the memory brings your drive back, and you hold the blade over his chest.
But your hands can’t bring it down. You can’t pierce his skin the way he’d pierced your neck just hours ago.
Come on, you think to yourself. Just stake him. 
Wonwoo’s eyes open, and he simply stares at you for a moment. Then he grabs your hand, disarming the blade and tugging you roughly, sending you toppling onto the mattress next to him. 
“Fuck!” you scream, kicking and trashing against the vice grip he has on your wrist.
Wonwoo lets you go. “I would have been disappointed if you didn’t try.”
“I hate you!” you yell, sitting up only to be tugged back down again.
“No, you don’t.” Wonwoo straddles you this time, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand while the other continues to hold your family blade. 
“I do!”
“I killed the vampire you were hunting, something you would have never been able to do. Some part of you must be grateful for that at least,” Wonwoo points out. “I’ve saved you from becoming a killer. Trust me, it’s not a weight you’d be able to hold easily.”
His words make your skin cold, and you stop wiggling beneath him, staring up at the beautiful vampire.
“There we go,” Wonwoo says, tone almost soothing. “If you’re good and calm, I’ll give you some information. Although, you won’t like what you’re about to hear.”
“Have you decided to kill me yet?” 
Wonwoo quickly shakes his head, releasing your wrists so he can sit straighter, staring down at your form. “I’m not really sure how to tell you this.”
“Just spit it out!”
“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Wonwoo grins, tracing the tip of the blade across your collar bone and making you freeze. You’re breathing heavily, fighting every urge to try to push him off of you. “Fine, maybe I won’t tell you.”
He gets off of you, rolling onto his back again. He begins to play with the knife, gently tracing one of its edges.
“Tell me,” you press. “I’m being good.” 
Wonwoo laughs, and you hate how attracted you are to him when he smiles, his fangs all pointy and sharp. 
“Fate is like this blade,” he says finally.
“A killer?” you suggest after a moment of deliberation.
“Twisted,” Wonwoo corrects you. 
“Twisted how?”
“Sung. He ruined my life. Ruined yours. I killed him, thinking I knew everything there was to know, but there was still information he could have given me. Information that died with him, like the vampire hunter legacy that died with your parents. Now here we are, two remnants of the same past, our souls scarred, but entwined, twisted by fate.”
You’d definitely not pegged this vampire as a poet, but there’s something very genuine about the words leaving his pretty lips.
“What do you know of souls?” you ask, words dripping with vitriol. “You don’t have one.”
“It would appear I do,” Wonwoo muses. 
“Then what do you know about mine?” 
“Enough.” 
He’s told you something without telling you anything, and it’s infuriating.
“When I bit you, I felt something,” Wonwoo says quietly.
“Besides hunger?”
He grins at your sarcasm. “Yes, besides hunger.”
Wonwoo drags his finger across the blade again, but this time, it cuts him. You watch dark red blood bloom, and after a moment he brings it to his lips, licking it clean. By the time he pulls his hand away, you see the small cut has healed.
“When I bit you, my chest hurt.”
“What does that mean?” 
“I wasn’t sure at the time,” he admits. “But I know someone who’d felt something similar, so I went to talk to him. Do you want to know what he said?”
The anticipation is nearly killing you. “Yes.” 
“He revealed to me that amidst a world of vampires, witches and werewolves, there’s also such a thing as soulmates. And so, like this blade, fate is twisted.” 
You stare at the vampire, trying to process what he’s just said. 
But it doesn’t make sense to you.
“You can’t be saying that we’re soulmates-”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Wonwoo shifts, holding the blade out to you. “Here, try to stake me again.”
After a moment of deliberation, you take the knife, lining it up with his throat. But try as you might, you can’t bring yourself to kill him, can’t even cut a tiny scratch against his perfect skin.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” you say finally, feeling completely defeated.
“Sure it doesn’t,” Wonwoo grins, but his smile tells you another story. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to sleep. You’re free to join me if you want.”
You take the knife away from his neck, releasing a loud sigh. “Just don’t bite me.”
“No promises.” Wonwoo rolls on his side again, back to you. 
You hate how calm he’s being about all of this, but you suppose that’s what happens when you’re the one holding all the cards. 
You can’t hurt him, but you’re pretty sure he can still hurt you, if that bite from last night is anything to go on. 
It takes an hour of letting him rest before you finally place the knife on the floor, settling into the bed with a huff. Your mind is completely full, but you’re exhausted too. Sleep finds you soon thereafter. 
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You wake up cold, and it only takes a moment for you to realize why. There’s a vampire attached to your back, his chest pressed tightly to your form, skin like ice. 
You want to pull away, but you can’t. You’re stuck, trapped in his tight embrace. 
There has to be a way out of this, not only his arms but his apartment too. You’ll find a way, there has to be a way- 
With a few deep breaths, you’re finally able to get control of yourself, and you begin to shift away from Wonwoo- only for his grip to tighten on your body. 
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, voice groggy as if he’s just woken up.
“I have to get out of here,” you insist.
Wonwoo releases his hold on you, and you dart out of bed, looking around at the dark of the room. It’s evening already? How long did you sleep? When you look outside, you see the sun has set, the sky a hazy purple. 
“People will look for me,” you say, trying to reassure yourself.
“What people? Your family is dead.” 
He’s such an asshole. He can’t possibly be your soulmate, he can’t be-
You turn to look at Wonwoo, only to find him standing right in front of you. He’s so large, his chest perfectly muscled- and he’s staring at your neck.
“Don’t even think about it,” you warn, clapping both hands over your throat.
He laughs. “But I’m thirsty.”
“How very enticing,” you say sarcastically. 
“I’ve been thinking.”
“You have?” you act shocked, picking up your blade.
“Put that down,” he tells you. “I’ve been thinking about something my friend told me. He said I’d have to turn you eventually.”
“Now I’m definitely not putting this down!” You brandish the knife at him and it only makes his grin wider. 
“You’re cute,” the vampire muses. “I can’t let you leave here while you’re human. It’s a dangerous world out there. Turning you would give me… security.”
“I’d still run,” you insist.
“You wouldn’t be able to. Not if I told you that you can’t.”
“I’d still try-”
Wonwoo bats the blade out of your hand, grabbing your wrists to pin them to your front while he steps closer. “You’re not listening,” he tuts. “Fledgelings can’t disobey their masters, and if I turned you-”
“You’ll never be my master,” you spit. 
“You might not like me now, but you’ll get over it,” Wonwoo assures you. “I can’t say I’m particularly fond of the fragility of your human body. I can turn you and you’ll be much more powerful. You’ll stay beautiful and young, forever.”
Blood is thrumming through your body, and so is fear. Your pulse is practically racing as you stare up at the vampire who thinks you’re his soulmate. 
How can he be so sure of this?
In the dark recesses of your mind, there’s some pleasure in being wanted, maybe even needed- but you push the thought away, struggling in his grasp. “Don’t do this.”
Wonwoo doesn’t respond, he simply steps closer, causing you to move back until you’re pressed between him and the wall. He stares down at you, an intensity in his eyes. 
“I’m going to ask you something, and I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying, so be a good girl and try to be honest, okay?” 
“Screw you!”
He places both your wrists in one hand, bringing the other up to cup your cheek. “Would you hate me if I kissed you?”
“Yes!” 
“Lie,” he grins, leaning even closer. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”
“I don’t want you to kiss me.”
“Another lie. Your heart jumped just now. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, your body always tells the truth.” 
You’re speechless, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” the vampire warns you. “It will be better if you try to enjoy yourself.” 
He gives you a moment to respond, but you can’t. There’s nothing you can say as Wonwoo closes the distance between your lips. It’s a soft kiss, much softer than you’d ever expected from him. Your body reacts, eyes closing, and you find yourself kissing him back.
Wonwoo grins, releasing your wrists in favour of grabbing your hip, pressing you harder against the wall. His tongue glides against your bottom lip and you can’t help but open your mouth for him, fighting the moan that bubbles in your chest. 
There’s something about this that feels electric, and after a mini battle with yourself, you give into the experience. Your hands grab at his strong shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as you kiss him back with more vigour, opening your mouth for him.
Wonwoo lets out a growl, deep in his chest, and the sound turns you on more than you’ll ever admit. His hand is bruising on your hip now, groping at your skin and slipping under your shirt. You shift in his embrace, pulling him closer when you wrap your arms around the back of his neck.
His hand on your cheek moves down, gently latching around your throat. The motion makes you gasp, and Wonwoo pulls away from your lips, staring down at you. “Thirsty.”
“You fucker-”
“Thirsty,” he repeats, pressing you against the wall and tightening his grip on your neck. You watch him drag his tongue across his sharp fangs. “Just say yes,” the vampire whispers. It almost sounds like he’s begging. 
You’re at war with yourself. Your body is clearly reacting to Wonwoo, but your mind still isn’t there yet. It’s almost torture, pressed to the wall by a man with a perfect body and power that practically thrums off of him.
You find yourself giving a small nod. “Don’t hurt me,” you plead.
“Never,” he promises, kissing you softly one last time before he arches your jaw to the side. You grab at his shoulders, ready to dig your nails in when you feel his fangs- 
His lips press to your throat and a shiver runs through your body. His tongue tastes your skin, drawing a circle that has you nearly dying with anticipation. When the bite finally comes, it’s not painful or sharp, it feels something like a hickey, and then it begins to throb.
A gasp tumbles out of you, and you cling to Wonwoo’s broad shoulders, closing your eyes. The vampire releases a groan, reaching for your hand so he can intertwine your fingers, squeezing gently. 
You’ve never felt close to someone like this, and the realization has your head spinning… or maybe that’s the blood loss. 
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, starting to worry at how long he’s been sucking on your throat.
The throbbing stops, and you feel his tongue gliding over the bite mark, an attempt to soothe your skin. Then he’s pulling away, looking down at you as he licks his lips clean of your blood.
“Good girl,” he praises you, letting go of your hand. “Your turn.” You watch as he brings his thumb to his mouth, biting the tip before grabbing your jaw, pressing the digit into your mouth. “This will heal the mark,” Wonwoo explains, watching as you begin to suck on his thumb.
He doesn’t taste like blood. Instead, you’re reminded of strawberries and stone fruits. You swirl your tongue around his digit, sucking him deeper into your mouth-
“That’s it,” the vampire groans, slowly pulling his thumb from you. He drags it across your lip. “All better.”
When you touch your throat, you find only perfect skin. There’s nothing to suggest you’ve just been bitten by a vampire. 
“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo leans down, his lips ghosting over your own, “you taste delicious.”
“You-” you swallow thickly, “you do too.”
“Yeah?” He grins. 
You can only nod, leaning forward eagerly to capture him in a kiss again. 
You’re hungry for him, hungry in a way you’ve never been before, hungry for more.
Wonwoo gives into your needs, working his lips against yours harder while his hands find your hips again. Your own fingers trace his broad shoulders, dipping down to tease over his chest before finding his abs-
“That’s enough for tonight,” Wonwoo says suddenly, pulling away.
You realize you’d been about to grab his sweat pants, and you feel slightly embarrassed. You’re not sure what’s come over you-
“Sorry-”
“As much as I’d love to give you everything you want, as a human, I’d break you much too easily, darling.” 
Is he… is he going to withhold sex unless you become a vampire?
Jesus, are you actually considering this now?
What has this man done to you?
“I’m going out,” Wonwoo announces.
“Where?”
“The club. You were a tasty treat, but I’ll need more soon.”
For some reason, the thought of him biting anyone else makes you almost jealous. “Take me with you.”
“To the vampire club?” Wonwoo laughs as he heads to his closet. “No.”
“Please?” 
“No.”
“Why not?” you ask.
“It’s too dangerous.”
“What if I stick to your side all night?” 
He turns to look at you, cocking a brow. “Not thinking of running anymore?”
You shake your head quickly.
“Shame, a lie,” Wonwoo sighs. “But I guess… anywhere you go, I’ll find you.” He reaches out, wrapping his hands around your throat and pulling you closer. “You’re mine. If you run, the consequence will be a turning, does that sound fair?”
You feel like you’re gambling with fate, but you nod all the same.
“Say it,” the vampire tells you. 
“If… If I run, you can turn me.”
Wonwoo studies you for a moment, then he releases your throat. “Fine. You can come to the club. We’ll get you food along the way if you promise to be good.”
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Entering the club with Wonwoo is extremely different from entering alone. The bouncers seem to know the vampire with his hand firmly wrapped around your own, and although they give you odd looks, no one says anything.
The crowd parts for Wonwoo, and you feel eyes drilling into your form. 
It had taken months to track down this specific club, there are few vampire safe havens like this one, and people tend to keep their mouth shut about this sort of thing. Yet, within the location itself, everyone seems to know who’s vampire and who’s human. It’s an unspoken hierarchy, one you’re disturbing by being so close to Wonwoo while still owning a pulse.
Wonwoo leads you to the booth section you’d found him in last night. There are three vampires already sitting there, and they all stare as you approach. “Shouldn’t have brought you here,” Wonwoo sighs.
“Why not?”
“They’re never going to let me live this down,” he explains. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”
It’s an interesting notion, the idea that you’re bringing down this asshole vampire’s street cred. But at the same time, you didn’t force him to bring you here. You’ll never be able to force Wonwoo to do anything.
The vampire with the longest hair stands up from the booth as you approach, and you’re shocked when he smiles at you. “This must be her,” he says, holding out a hand. When you take it, instead of shaking, the beautiful man leans down to kiss your knuckles. 
“This is Jeonghan,” Wonwoo tells you.
You give the vampire your own name, and when you hear Wonwoo whispering it behind you, you realize he’s yet to learn it. Had you really gone this long without introducing yourself to him properly? Had you let him bite you, and kiss you, and call you good girl, all without knowing your name?
“You’re the vampire hunter,” comes the next voice, and the tallest vampire you’ve ever seen stands to tower over you. “I thought you’d be dead by now.”
“Mingyu,” Wonwoo warns, his hand moving to the small of your back in an almost protective gesture.
“Vampire hunter?” The third man cocks his head. “I see you’ve brought us a pretty little juice box.”
“Joshua,” now it’s Jeonghan’s turn to scold someone, and you realize through the long haired vampire’s behaviour that he must be the friend Wonwoo went to see about soulmates. There’s definitely a softness to him that the others don’t have, an understanding.
“Is she not dinner?” Joshua simply blinks in confusion, unable to see what he’s done wrong.
“A fang bunny then, not dinner,” the final vampire suggests.
“Excuse Soonyoung and Joshua,” Jeonghan sighs, addressing you again, “looks don’t account for manners. How about I take you down to the bar for a drink and Wonwoo can explain to our friends what’s going on,” he leans closer, lowering his voice, “Wonwoo’s never brought a girl home, I’m sure you can understand the surprise.”
You’d promised Wonwoo you’d stay by his side all night, and you can’t help but look at him for permission to leave with Jeonghan. Your vampire mate meets your gaze with a steady look, and he gives you a quick nod before turning to his friends again.
Jeonghan takes your hand, pulling you away from the table and back toward the bar. “You two look good together,” he muses. “Fragility looks nice next to Wonwoo’s controlled chaos, it’s a good balance.”
“What’s with you vampires and hating human fragility?” you ask.
“I can’t speak for all vampires, but I can tell you it’s a trait of our fledgling group. Our old master was… brutal, to say the least. It left its scars.” Jeonghan looks down, and you can see an unreadable emotion cross his face. But he’s forcing a smile a moment later. “It doesn’t matter, Sung is gone, we’re free now.”
So Wonwoo hadn’t only freed himself and you when he’d killed his maker. How many people had he saved? You’d seen the act as something of a bloodthirsty move of defiance, but you  hadn’t been aware of the domino effect of it all, hadn’t been aware that Sung had been cruel to humans and vampires alike, even his own spawn. 
The bartender comes over with two glasses of red wine, and you reach for yours, only to have Jeonghan’s cold fingers latch around your wrist. “Don’t drink that,” he warns you, eyes shifting to the human bartender. “She’s not a red wine lover.”
“I can drink this-”
Jeonghan leans closer, voice lowering. “It’s blood, darling.”
Your eyes dip to the glass of red liquid and you pull your hand away, swallowing thickly. Something tells you this blood wouldn’t taste like Wonwoo’s had, there’d be no strawberries and stone fruit, only harsh metalics. 
“What would you like to drink?” Jeonghan asks.
You give your order and the bartender scurries away. Jeonghan moves both glasses of blood in front of himself, lifting one to his lips. 
“Stupid humans,” he mutters, only realizing his mistake a moment later. “Not you of course, as Wonwoo’s soulmate, you’re an extension of us.”
It’s very odd to be accepted like this. You’ve never met any vampires like these ones, and they’re reshaping your view of things that go bump in the night.
Your gaze moves back to the table of vampires, and you’re shocked to find Wonwoo standing with a new person you’ve not yet met. They’re comparable in size, and from your distance, it almost looks like they’re arguing. Then you see Wonwoo motion, pointing toward the hallway that leads to the alley he’d taken you last night.
“Jeonghan?” You tap on the man’s arm. “Who’s that with Wonwoo?”
“Shit,” Jeonghan cusses. “He’s bad news.”
And here you’d thought Wonwoo was bad news, can this new man be even worse?
You watch the two heated vampires begin to head through the crowd, clearly intent on taking this outside. Mingyu, Joshua and Soonyoung watch from the booth, but they don’t make a move to follow. 
“Does- does Wonwoo need backup?” you ask.
Jeonghan considers it for a moment. “Doubtful. He’d probably be mad if we went out after him.”
As you watch Wonwoo disappear, your heart clenches in your chest. “I think we should follow.”
“He’s fine,” Jeonghan assures you.
“I don’t care.”
“Wonwoo wouldn’t want you there,” the vampire tries to convince you. “You’re fragile, human, it would only make things worse.”
“Screw that.”
“Your drink isn’t even here yet-”
But you’re already moving away from the bar, and Jeonghan scrambles to follow you, grabbing both glasses of wine. “This is a bad idea,” he insists, but you’re done listening to him. “Wonwoo can take care of himself.”
To be fair, that might be true. However, there’s a pull, deep in your chest. Something tells you Wonwoo will need you soon, although you’re not quite sure in what capacity. 
Your pace quickens as you head down the dark hallway, and you push open the exit door, quickly looking around. 
Wonwoo has the other vampire pressed to the brick wall behind the bar, and they’re grappling at each other, practically snarling. You have no clue who’s the aggressor, but you know who the winner will be, and you reach into your jacket for your blade.
“Wonwoo!” you scream, catching his attention for a moment, but it’s all you need to toss the weapon toward him. He catches it easily, driving the stake into the other man without a second thought.
A choked sound leaves you, and a hand covers your eyes. Jeonghan presses against your back, cradling you while you hear the sounds of your vampire mate eviscerating his opponent. 
Jeonghan turns you in his arms. “Don’t look,” he urges, removing his palm from your view. He’s still holding a wine glass, and you see the other sitting on the garbage can a few feet away. The sight of the blood makes your stomach churn. You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself, but it’s difficult in a situation like this.
Something moves in the periphery of your vision and you turn your head to see Wonwoo standing there, reaching for the wine glass. His skin is marred with red, his hair a tangle of curls. Your mate’s eyes are dark, and he closes them as he downs the red liquid, tossing the glass to the side when he’s through with it. The cup shatters across the alleyway. 
“Wonwoo-” you breathe, reaching for him, needing to check if he’s hurt.
“Why did you two come out here?” he asks, staring at Jeonghan.
“She insisted.”
Oh, to be thrown under the bus by a vampire.
Wonwoo cracks a grin, gaze shifting to you. “Brat.” 
“Killer,” you retort.
“He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. 
He’s covered in blood and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in-
“Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily.
At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. 
It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.
Wonwoo lets you go, turning to his friend. “Help me with the body,” he instructs.
“The club owner isn’t going to like this,” Jeonghan groans, although he does as he’s told, following Wonwoo toward the body crumpled by the wall.
The vampire has been practically torn to pieces- you shift your gaze again, wiping at your mouth just in case there’s any blood on your skin.
“I’ll explain what happened,” Wonwoo says. 
“Explain it to me then.”
You focus on the ground, not wanting to look as you hear the two vampires open a large dumpster. 
Wonwoo has lowered his voice to respond to his friend, but you hear the words soulmate and threatened. 
Had this killing been over you? The thought makes your stomach tie into knots again.
“You can’t bring her here again, not while she’s still human,” Jeonghan muses.
“You think I don’t know that?” Wonwoo snaps. “I didn’t even want to bring her today!”
“Then why did you?”
“It’s hard to say no to her, something you should understand. Can’t believe you let her come out here-”
“I didn’t let her do anything,” Jeonghan insists. “That soulmate of yours has a mind of her own. Besides, my hands were full.”
Your eyes shift to the glass of wine still sitting on a small trash can, and you move to retrieve it. 
“You’ll get this properly cleaned up, won’t you?” Wonwoo asks.
“Yeah, I got you,” Jeonghan sighs. “But you owe me one.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” 
You hear them walking over again, and you turn to face the approaching vampires, holding out the ‘wine’ for Jeonghan.
“Thank you, darling,” he offers you a smile, taking the glass. 
You can only nod, gaze shifting to Wonwoo, who still looks gorgeous even while covered in blood. 
He takes your hand gently. “Come on, brat, let’s get out of here.”
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Mingyu had come around with his car to take you home, helping avoid any uber drivers who would take one look at Wonwoo’s blood-speckled face and driven the other way. It had been a tense ten minutes, with hardly a word spoken.
Now, you’re in Wonwoo’s bathroom, helping him take off his shirt so you can wash him clean.
He watches as you ring out a warm soapy cloth, bunching it up and bringing it toward his shoulders first. It’s hard to focus with his intense gaze fixed on you, but you do your best, wiping away the blood from his throat.
“I have to turn you,” he says.
You sigh. “I know.”
“Are you upset with me?”
You shake your head, daring a look into his dark eyes. 
The vampire cocks his head, hands finding your hips while he leans back against the sink. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “One bite, I’ll nearly drain you, and on the cusp between life or death, I’ll give you my own blood. You’ll probably pass out, for a little while, and when you wake up, you’ll be like me.”
“Except you’ll be my master,” you point out, drawing the cloth across his bloody cheekbone. 
“I won’t abuse that power.”
For some reason, you believe him.
Silence fills the bathroom while you continue to clean him, but your mind is very much active. 
You’ve spent over ten years with one goal and one goal only, to avenge your parents. You’d been told it was a fool's errand, so you’d never quite planned for what came next. Part of you had always expected to die young- and if you’d been at the house instead of with a friend the day Sung had come for your family, you would have. 
The idea of living forever is a lot to grapple with, but Wonwoo’s the one that makes it possible.
He’d completed your life task, and now, he’s offering you a new path, one that’s rich with shadows, but also love. In a way, maybe you can’t ask for anything more than that.
“Do you think it will satisfy you?” you question. “Having me when you know I can’t refuse you?”
Wonwoo considers you for a moment, and his silence makes you anxious.
“I just mean…” you bite at your lip, cleaning the last speckle of blood from his skin before tossing the cloth down. “Wouldn’t it be better to have me for the first time while I’m still human? When you know I’m saying yes out of my own free will?”
“Darling,” his fingers dig into your hips, “are you asking me to fuck you?”
“I’m just- I know I want you, I think that much is obvious. I just think that if I wait to have you until after I’m a vampire, maybe there will always be a part of me that questions it. I want to experience you now, as I am, as a human.”
“It’s an interesting proposition,” Wonwoo admits.
“Just interesting?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.
Wonwoo straightens. No longer leaning against the sink, he towers over you again, and it takes your anxieties away. 
“Is this really what you want?” he asks.
You take a deep breath and nod. 
“I’ll be as gentle as I know how,” he reaches out, brushing his fingers along your arm, “but I can’t make any promises.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I like rough.”
“Are you sure about that, pretty girl?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your hips and tugging you closer. 
It feels amazing to be pressed against him now, your palms coming to rest on his broad chest. He’s so beautiful, you can hardly control yourself around him anymore. 
“I want you to ravage me,” you tell him. “And when we both finish, you can turn me. I think… I think I’m ready for my life with you. There’s nothing for me with the old one anyways, not anymore.” 
The vampire studies you, and you avert your gaze, only for his fingers to find the bottom of your chin. He tilts your head up so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “I’m going to take care of you,” Wonwoo whispers, and then he leans in to press his lips against yours.
You melt against his chest, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Your mouth parts much too easily for Wonwoo, and he drags his tongue along yours, earning a sigh of relief from deep within you. Your brain has been so full since seeing Wonwoo eviscerate that rival vampire, it’s good to be in your body now, mind going numb from your soulmate’s touch.
In one easy motion, Wonwoo turns you so you’re the one with your back to the sink. He bends down, tearing your pants off before grabbing your thighs and lifting you onto the counter, slotting between your legs while he kisses you harder. 
His hands find your shirt, and you break the kiss to tear it off, leaving you in your underwear. Wonwoo’s lips find your neck, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, groaning. You throw your head back, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “Bite me,” you urge him, missing the sensation.
The vampire grins against your throat, and you feel his fangs a moment later. He doesn’t tease you with kisses or licking this time, he simply sinks his teeth into you. The throbbing feeling courses through you and you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders while Wonwoo drinks from you. 
You’ve never felt close to someone like this before. Wonwoo is grabbing your hips hard, leaning closer while he uses you for his own strength. He presses forward, allowing you to feel his cock growing in his jeans, denim catching against your panties. Then his hands slip behind you, and he undoes your bra, tearing it off. 
Your nipples pebble in the cool of the bathroom, and Wonwoo’s cold hands don’t help any as they move up to cup your breasts. Your soulmate pulls away from your throat, releasing a groan.
Warm blood begins to drip down your skin, he’d bitten you harder than last time. As the track of red makes it to your nipple, Wonwoo bends down, capturing the sensitive bud in his mouth and licking roughly. 
You whimper at the sensation, tangling your fingers in his hair as he drags his tongue up, collecting all the blood that’s just spilt from your neck. The vampire groans when he makes it to your bite mark, and he adjusts slightly, biting his thumb before pressing it into your mouth. “Need you healed or I might lose control,” he says, voice husky.
You can only suck in his digit, closing your eyes and enjoying the tingly feeling of your wound disappearing. 
Your soulmate pulls his hand from your mouth, bringing his newly spit-covered fingers to your panty-clad core. He applies a good amount of pressure to your clit and you cry out, grabbing at his jaw to bring his lips back to yours.
The vampire rubs you teasingly, working you up until you’re practically rutting against his hand. “Please,” you moan, feeling absolutely desperate now.
Wonwoo rewards you by pushing your panties to the side, sinking two fingers into your hot core while you groan into each other’s mouths. 
“Already so wet for me,” Wonwoo muses. “Is this how you always react to vampires, darling?”
You shake your head, whimpering as he strokes your inner walls expertly. “Just you,” you tell him.
Wonwoo lets out a growl. With his free hand he grabs your wrist, bringing your palm to his chest. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?”
At first, you’re confused, but then you feel something, a rough thumping, as if his heart is clawing to get out of his ribcage. “I’m doing this to you?” you ask in wonder.
“And this,” he guides your hand down further, so you can feel how hard he is in his jeans now. 
“Fuck, you’re big-”
Wonwoo laughs, working his fingers into you even harder. “Think you’ll be able to make it fit?”
“Uh huh,” you nod eagerly. “We’ll make it fit.” 
His digits crook up, stroking a spot that has your thighs quivering around his hips. You squeeze his cock through his jeans, hoping to drive Wonwoo even a fraction as wild as he’s driving you.
Your soulmate lets out a satisfied groan, and the sound goes straight to your core, which squelches around his fingers. “I’m close,” you warn him, nearly panting now as the orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach.
“Yeah?” Wonwoo grinds his palm against your clit and you’re nearly seeing stars. 
You let go of his cock, needing to anchor yourself on his strong shoulders as he leans in to kiss your throat. He focuses on the spot he’d bitten, and even though it’s healed, you’re still sensitive there, sending throbbing tingles through your form.
“Fuck, Wonwoo-” You clench your eyes shut as you reach your high, your entire being now consumed with pleasure. You’ve never felt anything like this. It’s almost an out of body experience, your cries leaving your lips as you dig your nails into his shoulders, throbbing ceaselessly with ecstasy. 
“That’s it, pet,” Wonwoo coos, fingers continuing to abuse your hole even as your walls contract around him. “Who’s my good little human?”
“Me,” you whimper, threading your hand through his hair so you can keep him to your throat. You almost want to ask him to bite you again, but you hold yourself back, enjoying the last moments of your orgasm.
You finish with a gasp, breathing hard. 
Wonwoo takes his hand from your core, pulling away from your neck. He watches you with dark eyes as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. The vampire lets out a groan. “Everything about you tastes so fucking sweet, darling.”
God. You need him like you’ve never needed anyone in your whole life.
“Please,” you moan.
“Please, what?” he teases.
“Take me,” you whisper. “Make me yours.”
“Darling,” Wonwoo leans closer, his lips ghosting over your own, “I thought you’d never ask.”
He pulls you off the sink, tucking you close to his chest and carrying you back to the bedroom. The lights are off, and when he gently places you on the bed, his beautiful frame is illuminated from the glow of the bathroom. 
You can’t see his face, but you can see he’s smiling, and his fangs flash. His hands move to his belt and he undoes it. You bite at your lip, sitting up onto your elbows while you watch him. 
He pushes his pants down, and you can just make out the impressive size of his cock. “Wish I could see you,” you muse.
“I can see you,” he retorts. “When I turn you, you’ll be able to see in the dark too.”
“Are you really going to make me wait?”
“You won’t have to wait long,” Wonwoo reminds you. “You can be patient for this first time, can’t you, human? After tonight, we’ll have forever.”
You can’t even imagine what forever entails, and you distract yourself from it by pulling your panties down, tossing them to the floor. You spread your legs for the vampire at the foot of the bed and he releases a groan.
“You are beautiful,” he admits.
“Even for a human?”
“Even for a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo presses a knee to the bed.
“Thought you said I was a sorry excuse for a vampire hunter.” 
“I may have said something along those lines,” he grins.
“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt-”
Wonwoo presses his hand to the bed next to your head, leaning over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. “Are you looking for an apology, darling?”
“It would help,” you sigh, enjoying the way he ruts his cock against your hot core.
“I’m sorry I called you a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo smirks, “I was having a bad day, and I misspoke… you’re a darling little human who’s about to become a vampire fucker.”
“Wonwoo-” you push at his chest, hating how harsh his words sound.
“You’re right,” your soulmate concedes, “you’re not a vampire fucker, I’m the one on top.”
“You’re horrible!” you screech, but at the same time, you’re giggling now.
“Tell me you love it,” he insists, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you stupid. That you don’t want me to sink my fangs into this pretty throat and make you mine, my eternal mate, untouchable to anyone but me.”
It does sound nice, and you shiver as Wonwoo presses his cold body down against yours.
“I’ll enjoy it once you’re turned,” Wonwoo breathes. “You won’t be able to be bratty with me. I’ll ask you what's on your mind and you’ll have to answer.”
“I’m just thinking how nice this is going to be,” you admit.
“Nice?” He laughs, pulling away to look down at you. 
“Obviously it will be a lot to figure out,” you back pedal slightly, “but… I don’t know, you really are my soulmate, and I know you’ll take care of me.”
The vampire simply blinks. 
“What?” you ask, cupping his face.
“This is the first time you’ve admitted it,” Wonwoo points out. 
“I wouldn’t let you bite me if you weren’t,” you remind him. “Wouldn’t let you fuck me-”
“I haven’t fucked you yet,” your soulmate grins, pushing his hips so his cock brushes by your clit as if to prove his point.
“And I’m devastated,” you say dramatically. “Please, Wonwoo- just fuck me!”
Wonwoo presses his lips to yours, and you love that he’s smiling into the kiss. You tangle your fingers in his hair, hooking your legs tighter around his hips. You’re still so wet from his fingers, and each small drag of his cock between your pussy lips feels like heaven. 
He’s such a tease, but you kind of love it.
The vampire adjusts slightly, reaching between your bodies, and then his cock slides into you. It’s just the head at first, but it’s enough to have you gasping and clawing at him. He thrusts shallowly, pushing deeper and deeper until his hips are flush to your own and every impressive inch of him is stretching you open.
“Fuck-” you whimper, toes curling from how full you feel.
Wonwoo collects one of your hands, linking your fingers and pressing it down against the pillow. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, my pretty human?”
“Uh huh,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “I told you,” you lean up, letting your lips ghost past his while you stare into his eyes, “ravage me.”
Your vampire lover groans, smashing his mouth to yours and squeezing your hand, then he begins to thrust into you and your mind goes completely blank. He fills you up perfectly- it’s like you were always meant to be full in this way. 
Now that you’ve tasted this, how can you ever get enough?
You can tell he’s holding back, can tell he’s still trying to be careful with your fragile form. You lock your legs tighter around his hips, a wordless encouragement to go harder. You wonder what it’s going to be like once you’re on his level, once you’re a vampire like him. If sex with him feels this good and he’s only at a fraction of his power, you bet undying fucking will kill you all over again.
Each snap of his hips presses his cock deep into your core, and your walls greedily eat him up. You’re moaning desperately against his mouth, squeezing his hand while tangling your fingers through his hair with the other. 
Wonwoo’s fangs drag by your lip, teasing you just enough to be on the verge of painful. 
You’re so lost in him you don’t even care, you bite him back, tugging on his curls and whimpering a sound of affirmation. This time, when his teeth make contact with your lip, it’s with enough force to pierce. 
Wonwoo groans immediately, suckling on your lower lip. It’s throbbing slightly, but unlike when he goes for your neck, his teeth aren’t still inside of you. He’s simply made a small incision, and now your vampire lover is making the most of it, kissing you so greedily that you can’t even taste the metallic proof of what he’s just done.
He simply can’t get enough of you, and you can’t get enough of him. You push on the hand capturing yours to the bed and Wonwoo relents, allowing you to grab at his shoulder while he fucks you harder, pressing you into the mattress.
With his fingers now free, he shoves them between your bodies, rubbing your clit and making your legs shake around his hips. 
With each lick and suck at your bleeding lip, he’s getting rougher with you. Your life’s blood is giving him strength, making him more feral, and you’re enjoying the show. 
Your pussy is throbbing again, just like your lip, and you know you’re achingly close to another orgasm. When has cumming ever been this easy? Wonwoo feels like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, you’re still not sure.
“Close, darling?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his tongue across your teeth. You taste something on him, and realize he’s bitten himself, allowing his blood to heal your lip wound just as suddenly as it had been given. 
You nod, crying out as he rubs your clit harder. He stares down at you, in the dark there are angular shadows on his face, his pretty cheekbones all sharp-
“You look…” he licks his lips, “beautiful.”
“Wonwoo-” you whimper, body shuddering at the praise, your core twisting and aching as he continues to fuck into you wildly.
“That’s it,” the vampire coos, “cum on my cock, I need to feel you.”
You literally can’t help yourself. His voice is too sexy, his cock is too big, and you’re way too deep into the kinkiness of bloodsharing vampire sex to refuse any command he gives you. You let out a cry of ecstasy as your second orgasm of the night slams into you, ravaging your form and making you see stars.
Wonwoo buries his face against your neck, teasing you with his teeth and tounge while he fucks you through his high. With each second of overstimulated pleasure, you hang on the edge of anticipation, wondering if he’s about to bite you-
But he doesn’t. He simply works you through your orgasm until you’re a shaking mess.
You can feel tears in your eyes, but you’re not quite sure why they’re there.
When Wonwoo looks down at you again, he notices your tears, his brows furrowing. But he doesn’t question you on it, he simply brushes them away with his thumb while you shiver and recollect yourself after that mind numbing high.
You drag his face in for a kiss, pouring all your emotions into the merging of your lips. It must be clear to him that you’re okay, that you’re feeling just a little broken right now- but to be fair, you had asked him to ravage you.
There are underlying feelings being brought up, and in the periphery of your mind, you’re questioning your own mortality.
This is your last night on earth as a human, your last hour even- and although you know Wonwoo will take care of you, there’s something scary about it.
You’re diving into the deep, dark, unknown with your new soulmate, entrusting him as your guide after living an entire life without trusting anyone.
Trusting feels foreign to you, but you do trust Wonwoo, and that’s a scary thought in and of itself.
“Okay,” you say, swallowing thickly and letting out a shaky breath, “I’m ready for more.”
“I’d almost worried I’d broken you,” Wonwoo admits, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.
“It was a good broken,” you tell him, heart swelling in your chest at the fact that he’d been concerned for you. 
“And now my little human wants more,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re not as fragile as you look, are you, darling?”
You shake your head.
“Think you can get on your knees for me?” the vampire asks, pushing his body weight off of you.
“Uh huh,” you nod, whimpering a little at the loss of his cock from your core. You get into position, turning your back to him and adjusting on your knees, wiggling you ass gently to entice him.
“Pretty human,” Wonwoo breathes, hands ghosting down your sides before taking two fistfuls of your bum and squeezing. 
You feel his cock at your entrance again, and he pushes into you, making you both moan. In this position it almost feels like he hits deeper. You go fully doggy, resting your face against his pillows and arching your back.
“I’d tell you to be good for me, but I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked the brat out of you already. Isn’t that right, darling?” He lands a gentle smack to your ass that has you whimpering. 
He’s such a cocky asshole and it makes you groan. You can feel yourself throb around him at his words, betraying what you really think about the line he’s just used on you.
“That’s what I thought.” You can practically hear him grinning, and his hands move to your waist. His touch is almost bruising, but it feels so good as he begins to thrust into you again. Each movement has his hips hitting your ass, and the sound of sex fills the room.
You love the noises he’s making, soft, breathy groans, and deep rumbles that border on growls. There’s no time for talking anymore, your mind is much more preoccupied in the pleasure building within you both.
You’re still sensitive from two orgasms, so when you slip your hand under your body to rub your clit, your pussy immediately reacts. You clench tightly around Wonwoo, who lets out a moan at the sensation, fucking you even harder and faster.
Each thrust has you crying out now, whines of desperation slipping out of you while you rub your clit, eyes shut. 
Suddenly, Wonwoo is wrapping a hand around the front of your throat, pulling you up onto your knees with your back to his chest. His lips ghost by your ear. “So eager to cum again?” he asks.
You can only nod, grabbing at the forearm now pinned against your front while Wonwoo’s other hand tightens around your neck. He’s buried deep inside of you now, unmoving, and you’ve never felt this full.
“You know what happens when you cum, don’t you, darling?” 
“I-” You’re so delirious from his cock you can’t even think.
“‘When we cum, you can turn me,’ that’s what you said, wasn’t it, pet?” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle. “Are you really that eager? Or just a little dim with my cock buried so deep in this perfect pussy of yours?”
“I remember,” you gasp, head beginning to swim with how hard he’s gripping your throat.
“So you are eager,” the vampire confirms. “That’s cute.” 
He lets go of you, pushing you down to the bed. His hand finds the back of your neck and he holds your face down, grabbing your hip with the other. “I guess you can cum as fast as you want, little pet. I’d be happy to taste you again.”
You’re gasping against the pillow, enjoying how rough he’s being with you now. There’s something about having his hand on your neck, keeping you down while he begins to fuck into you again. 
“Are you close?” you ask, enjoying the groans leaving his own lips.
Wonwoo laughs. “When you cum, I cum.”
“Lucky me,” you whisper, reaching for your clit again. Your pussy pulses with ecstasy as you begin to rub the sensitive nub, your eyes closing from the pleasure. 
“Naughty human,” Wonwoo states, but there’s something like pride in his tone. “I guess I haven’t fucked the brat out of you just yet.”
“You love that I’m a brat,” you insist. “It gives you something you want to control, and we both know how much you like control.”
Wonwoo’s thrusts falter ever so slightly. “I didn’t realize you knew me so well, little soulmate.”
“I do,” you groan. “Just like I know that if I start begging, you’ll really lose your head.”
Wonwoo lets out a laugh, and you see it as a challenge.
“Please,” you whimper, rubbing your clit harder and cutting off your soulmate’s laugh. “Please, Wonwoo, I’m so close-”
The vampire behind you lets out a growl, fucking you faster. His grip on your neck pushes you down against the bed more, but it does nothing to muffle the begging that’s beginning to tumble past your lips.
“Want you to fill me up. Want you to make me see stars. Want you to bite me like only you can-”
“Fuck-” Wonwoo groans.
Suddenly he’s letting go of your neck and flipping you over. You’re not on your back for even a moment before he’s pushing into your core again, his lips eager against your own. His tongue invades your mouth, shutting up your begging while you tangle your fingers through his hair.
One of his hands is planted on the pillow next to you, and the other is on your hip, digging into your skin while he fucks you so hard the bed shakes.
“Please,” you whimper, so close to the edge you can almost taste it again.
Wonwoo’s mouth moves to your throat and your entire body tenses with anticipation, teetering on the edge of pleasure that you know is going to be nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before.
You drag your fingers against his scalp, panting hard. “Bite me,” you beg. “Bite me, please- I’ll cum so hard if you just bite me-”
The vampire lets out a primal groan, and then his teeth are sinking into your flesh. The throbbing sensation erupts through your entire body, going straight to your core, which clenches desperately around Wonwoo’s cock. 
A strangled cry leaves your lips as your orgasm overtakes you. Your grip tightens in Wonwoo’s hair, holding him to your throat as you ascend to a height of pleasure that has you weak all over- 
From the noises leaving your soulmate, you know he’s just cum too, and the thought makes your body tingle as he drinks steadily from your neck. 
His thrusts begin to slow, but the speed to which he’s devouring you remains a constant. Suddenly, you realize that there’s no coming back from cloud 9, you’re simply floating- floating, floating, with only his hair as your anchor, but soon, you begin to lose your grip on even that.
Your throat is really pulsing now, but it’s getting noticeably weaker, and the heat of the bite is dying down. Maybe it’s not the only thing dying, you realize, with your eyes closed and your lids too heavy to lift.
Something presses to your lips, filling your mouth with a familiar flavour. 
Strawberries and stone fruits.
You do your best to swallow, but it’s kind of difficult. You’re so tired, so very tired-
“Drink up, darling,” Wonwoo says. His voice feels far away. “Come back to me. I’m not done with you yet.”
Part of you wishes you could simply drift off, but your soulmate's words are enticing. You push yourself to do as he says, drinking the sweet nectar and regaining your strength, drawing you back to him. 
When you’re finally able to open your eyes, Wonwoo isn’t on top of you anymore. He’s laying in bed next to you, watching. 
You roll onto your side, mirroring him. “Did I pass out?”
“I warned you that might happen,” he reminds you, reaching out to push a strand of hair away from your face. 
His touch sends sparks through your body and you lick your lips, feeling pulled to the man in front of you. That’s when you realize, the lights are still off, but you can see Wonwoo perfectly. “I’m like you now,” you whisper.
“You’re like me,” Wonwoo agrees. “Do you have any regrets?”
“No,” you shake your head. “Do you?”
He’s quiet for a moment. “Just one.”
“Yeah?” You shift closer, palms flattening against his cold chest. 
“After you passed out, I realized there’s one thing I never said to you while you were human, not in so many words, at least.” 
“It’s not like you’ve known me long,” you try to assure him.
“That doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo insists. “I still should have said it. Like you wanting to experience me while still human, I should have said it while you still had a heart that beats.”
“I hate to break it to you, mister vampire,” you grin, taking his hand and pressing it to your chest, “but my dead heart is beating for you the same way yours beats for me. Just say it now.”
Wonwoo takes his hand from your chest, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I love you, even though I thought I’d never love anyone. I thought I’d be alone forever, but now… here you are. And I… I love you.” 
You grin at your vampire mate, adoring how vulnerable he’s being with you. “I also thought I’d be alone forever,” you admit. “Thought I’d die young and bloody, which, I guess is kind of true, but you’ve given me something new, something I could have never imagined, and I can’t wait to explore this second life with you. I love you too, Wonwoo, as crazy as it sounds.”
Wonwoo grins, and you return the expression. His thumb moves up to drag past your teeth. “The fangs suit you, my love,” he muses.
The petname makes you smile wider, shifting closer and wrapping your leg around his hip, mounting the pretty vampire. “Hungry,” you whisper, leaning down to press your lips to his neck.
“We’ll have to go get you some food.”
“Not for that,” you laugh, licking his throat. “For you.”
“Are you sure you’re strong enough, darling?” Wonwoo asks. “You’ve just been turned, maybe you should rest-”
“I’ve got strength enough to have you again, that is… if you have the energy, my big, scary, vampire master.”
Now it’s his turn to moan at the new petname, even if it is said slightly in jest.
“Still a brat,” Wonwoo muses, fingers skimming down your sides. 
“You’ll be entertained forever,” you insist.
“And what if master tells you to be a good girl and keep your pretty mouth shut?”
You laugh. “Then you’d miss me after a minute and ask me to start begging again.”
Wonwoo sighs in defeat, then he’s rolling the two of you so you’re on your back, pressed between him and the mattress. “I guess we might as well start your new life off with a bang, shouldn’t we, my love?”
“I’d be mad if we didn’t,” you admit.
Wonwoo only laughs, pressing his lips to yours. You might have forever with him, but right now, you’re as eager and needy as you’ve ever been, and he doesn’t mind catering to you, not one bit. 
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Vampire Wonwoo just bites different- I know I say that about every new fic but for real, I'd initially planned on this being a more slow burn but Soulmate sexy vampire asshole Wonwoo? as if we all wouldn't be climbing that man like a tree
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. “Tell me what you want.” You kind of hate it when he uses his vampire master abilities on you, but at the same time, it allows you to dish out your darkest fantasies with no fear of disapproval. “I want you to make me cum so hard I can’t even think.”
cw/ tw. Oral (f receiving), blood play/vampiric drinking from each other, biting, roughhousing, fingering, orgasm control, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, overstim, man handling, pinning, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, size kink, soft dom wonwoo, mentions of wandering eyes, multiple reader orgasms, thigh grinding, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) brat, darling.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 300
🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!reader
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bonus
“Bratty baby is at it again,” Jeonghan says fondly, watching you saunter away from the table with Mingyu toward the bar. “Serves you right for staring at that juice box.”
“You’re not going to take my side on this one?” Wonwoo laughs, amused at the night's turn of events.
“Not a chance,” the long-haired vampire grins. “I don’t know why you’d even need to look at any of these fang bunnies with a soulmate like her.”
Wonwoo sighs, knowing his friend is right. He still can’t help but defend himself. “A man gets thirsty.”
“That’s what this is for,” Jeonghan retorts, swirling the liquid in his wine glass. “You gave up fang bunnies and juice boxes the moment you met your soulmate, and we both know it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wonwoo shakes his head, eyes shifting to you again. He supposes it’s only fair that you get to flirt with the bartender after he’d just been caught looking at a scantily clad woman, but the fairness of the situation does little to lessen the fire building inside of him.
You should know by now that he only has eyes for you… even if his gaze wanders from time to time. He can’t help his predatory instincts, although, he should get more of a manage on them. In fact, he should stop bringing you to vampire bars altogether, but it’s difficult to resist a night out amongst his brood mates. 
“We all know this is a kink of theirs,” Joshua muses. “They fight a little, piss each other off, and then they fuck in the back of Mingyu’s car while he drives them home like a chauffeur.”
“That’s only happened twice,” Wonwoo insists.
Joshua scoffs loudly. “Mingyu had to implement a no fucking in his jeep policy, it definitely happened more than twice.”
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general taglist
@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling
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3K notes · View notes
swagging-back-to · 1 year
Text
also im gonna be using frozen fruit mostly because that's what's available to me and also apparently that's how you make ""country wine""
fruits i know for a fact i'll be adding;
cherry
blueberry
strawberry
cranberry
blackberry
banana
mango
peach
yes it is a lot and no it isnt consistent at all it's like pruno but more official. depending on what fruits i have when the kit arrives i might add other things like apples, pears.
Apparently i need to add pectic wine so i dont get pectic haze but i dont give a shit if it tastes grainy i literally just want to get hammered.
0 notes
orchidbreezefc · 1 month
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ok. years have passed and we've had some distance, so i'm finally gonna take the leap of faith that tma fandom is finally ready to hear me on this. let's talk about tannins.
161 was the first tma episode i heard on early release, and i felt the bit where martin declines wine and cites tannins was pretty obvious in its implications. cool, got it, say no more.
imagine my surprise when i was one of maybe three people i saw read between the lines there, in a fandom famous for red stringing--a fandom that immediately caught the much less obvious thread of ignition sources in the same episode. i'll spell it out: alcohol is an issue for martin.
maybe it just felt obvious because addiction is a pet issue for me--as it is for jonny, who has said everything he writes is filtered through a lens of addiction. i don't know if that's due to his own experience or a loved one's, and i won't speculate; i also don't know if martin personally struggled with drinking or just avoids it for fear he would, but alcohol would fit what we know of his family. his dad walking out and his mum spiralling into bitter wallowing and verbal abuse? i'd bet one or both of them drank, yeah.
on a basic level martin tries to decline alcohol, and that alone should have raised eyebrows given what we know of martin and, again, a fandom that dissects everything. we already knew martin "K" blackwood lied about his personal life and his family in particular, especially pre-canon, which is when this flashback took place. i was shocked that everyone took his flimsy excuse at face value with no further questions.
and the excuse is flimsy. martin turns down wine by--nervously--exclaiming tannins are "a proven headache trigger!" which sounds like trivia from a magazine cover and not the words of someone who actually has headaches--and it hasn't come up before or since. jon, confused, points out that tea, a drink martin consumes to a degree that is memetic both in- and out-of-universe, also contains tannins, and martin squawks a panicked, "what?!"
if tannins are enough of a concern for martin that he knew they're in wine and so avoids it, why didn't he know they're in his drink of choice? why does he still drink tea at the time of canon, and why doesn't he struggle with constant headaches from consuming 'a proven headache trigger' day in and day out? why, indeed, would someone avoid wine and not tea?
when sasha insists martin drink he caves and agrees to 'just a drop'. i imagine him pouring it in a plant, which admittedly he could have done if tannins really were the issue. i will say that i, for one, would be less likely to falsely agree to something that makes me physically ill than to a private issue that i'd rather not be pressed on any further. this scene also establishes martin's birthday was an ice cream party instead of the more traditional visit to a pub.
also, this scene was in the first episode of the final season, as one of three flashbacks that could have been to any pre-canon event in the archives. prime narrative real estate. not really time one would waste on establishing the important character context that martin has... headaches. which never comes up before or after, even regarding the week he spent in spiral town. but you know what is pretty crucial character background...?
it felt like a no-brainer, and yet all i saw was h/c fluff about jon attending to martin's headaches. and i hate feeling bitter about disability representation. i want folks with chronic headaches to feel seen and have fluffy escapist fantasies. i don't want to be mad about people portraying a character with a disability. but, guys? you got the wrong disability. jonny sent a clear message, and it went over fandom's head.
1K notes · View notes
irndad · 3 months
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here I lay me down - s.r.
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a/n: ex!spencer gets shot, and you show up at the hospital to see if he's okay. spencer is still desperately in love with you. based on this post wc: 2.3k (she is LONG)
Spencer wakes to a cacophony of sounds, others breathing and various beeps and hums from a variety of medical machines. He hates the noise of the hospital, as he knows what always follows. It’s pain, and ever since he kicked dilaudid, he doesn’t get the relief that people are always pushing on him here. 
The last thing Spencer remembers, he was in front of Morgan, who was about to get shot- it was a piercing memory, one that even the anesthetic wearing off slowly couldn’t numb. He’d jumped in front of it, and the pieces of Morgan pacing around his room and the whole being in a hospital thing click into place. 
When he blinks his eyes open, he sees Hotch speaking to the doctor with his endearingly concerned eyebrow scrunch and it’s then that he notices a familiar scent in the air. 
It’s perfume- he knows because he’d bought it- a mixture of jasmine and lilies, and the memory of the night he gave it to her bursts into technicolor when he closes his eyes. It had been her birthday, and he’d gone with Penelope and Emily to pick out a gift for her. 
He remembers how she’d lit up, her warm doe eyes brightening with fondness that he’d earned, and the way his heart had flipped in his chest- the memory is in crisp detail. He remembers the way she’d kissed him, equal measure in thanks and in adoration, and it’s comforting to remember right now. He tries to think of her often, especially when waves of pain crash over him like an unruly ocean that threatens to drown him. There was someone who loved him at one point, he tries to remember. 
He wants to compliment the nurse wearing it, but even as limited as his social skills are in this state, he knows that telling the nurse you like her perfume because your ex wore it is probably inappropriate. 
A roar of desire presents itself in his chest- he has no desire to want her here, but Spencer can’t help but fantasize about her presence. Her nimble fingers running through his hair, her soft voice cooing at his injuries. It was always nice to come home to her after a rough day- her disposition warm and kind and good. It’s his fault he doesn’t have it- his fault that she doesn’t love him anymore. 
It’s as if he conjured her, when she walks in the door. 
He literally cannot believe that she is here, in his hospital room- he drinks in the sight of her like a man starved. She’s beautiful- he’d never forget this but it’s been so long since he’s seen her. The curve of her cheek, her cupid’s bow, the slope of her neck- the details he spent the best year of his life memorizing under careful touch. 
Her body language is protective, one arm wrapped around her waist and the other at her mouth, her delicate fingers holding a tissue. Had she been crying?
Before he can think of what to say to her, she speaks to him. 
“How are you feeling?”
He’d forgotten just how her voice sounded. Or rather, how it sounded when she was concerned for him. It’s addicting, hedonistic in the ways of wine and drugs and everything else you should have in moderation but had to give up. It’s just so comforting, her lovely doe eyes looking at him with warmth and concern. 
“Hey,” he replies, not answering her question. He might be imagining her. They might have given him drugs. There’s no way she came and see him of her own volition. 
She pauses for a moment, biting her lip in an incredibly endearing way (and god, he’d missed looking at her) before she makes the decision to walk over to the side of his bed. He tries to crane his neck to look at her and she scolds him, and this doesn’t make any sense. 
“You got shot,” she says, voice warm and concerned, and if he squinted he could hear love in her voice. 
“I’m okay,” he tries to reply. 
“You got shot,” she says, eyes flaring with emotion. She always hated that he minimized his pain. 
“You came,” he says, after a beat of silence. Her fingers are running through his hair and he tries to commit this to memory. It doesn’t mean she loves him. She’s the kind of person who stops on the street to give someone the last dollar in her wallet, of course she would visit her ex-boyfriend in the hospital after he got shot.
It doesn’t mean anything. 
“Of course I came, Spence,” she says, intentionality in her tone, “You got hurt.”
It’s selfish to lean into her touch, but she smells like home and he doesn’t know if he will ever be held like this again by her. And he doesn’t care to be held by anyone else. 
Hotch comes in, and if he’s surprised to see the two of them together, it doesn’t show on his face. He tells Spencer that the. Bullet had been clean through, and that he’d been lucky. He’d avoided internal bleeding and would need to stay at home for a week. 
When Hotch leaves to ‘give him some space to process’, the silence lingers.
“Thank you for coming.”
It’s kind of worse, actually. The reality where she’s still his girlfriend is superimposed on top of this one, and he can feel the ghost of the kisses she’d pepper his cheeks with. If she still loved him, then she’d hug him and tell him that she loves him, tell him how angry she is for jumping in front of a stray bullet. 
It’s my fault, he thinks to himself, eyes raking over her. She’d definitely been crying, he realizes. Her makeup had run and he think she might have slept here. How had he ever gotten someone like her to fall in love with him? 
It’s his fault she doesn’t love him anymore.
When the doctor tells him that he needs someone to stay with him for the next few days, and she volunteers, he agrees.
It’s a nice kind of pain, he thinks. Any piece of her is more than he wants of anything else.
_______________________________________
It turns out that she is a wonderful caregiver. 
Penelope had been incredibly supportive of this idea, somehow convinced that the proximity would bring them back together. This is a hope that Spencer does not engage in, but still- it’s nice to have her around. 
She knows her way around his apartment- knows how he organizes her things. Half her things used to be there too. 
Memory is a funny thing. The worst part by far of eidetic memory is the lack of forgetting, and up until now, this was best seen in the horrors of his work. Now, it’s all her.
Taking care of him when he got shot is not the same thing as loving him. 
When she makes them dinner (which is so kind of her- he offered to buy takeout and she’d insisted on recreating his mother’s soup recipe. She’d kept a copy of it in her phone. Spencer had almost died of flattery), she sits next to him on his couch
It’s funny how the best memories of his life are so colored now- their trip to Europe, their first kiss, the first time he’d cooked her dinner and she’d watched Doctor Who with him. Ghosts of memory linger through the place, and it hurts to see her sit next to him on the couch with a foot between them. 
“Thank you for being here,” he says after a beat of silence. She looks beautiful, and he always thinks this. She’s wearing his t-shirt which is just an awfully tempting view. 
It’s his fault he can’t have what he wants. 
“I told you I still wanted us to be friends,” she says, looking down at her bowl, “You’re my friend. I’m happy to do this.”
He can tell she means it as an olive branch but it cuts like a knife. Because he never wanted to be her friend. She was the first thing he even wanted enough to ask for it. He still remembers when he’d asked her out the first time, the stuttering and the way she’d looked, how impossible her liking him back had felt. 
And then he’d managed to make her fall in love with him. It didn’t even take much- he just had to be himself, the way she says it, and he’d give anything to have that back. 
“You’re a good friend,” he replies, instead of everything he’s thinking. 
“Hotch thinks so,” she muses, not looking at him, “He was surprised I’d come here after you broke up with me.”
It’s a slight lash out, and it’s fair. It’s not fair that she’s here, wearing his fucking t-shirt, her collarbones exposed under the fabric. He know what her skin feels like under his lips, and now she make veiled comment on his couch. 
“Why did you?”
He can’t figure it out. They’d broken up two months ago. He’d done it to protect her- after the anthrax case he’d been fucking fixated on her getting hurt. Because this is the stuff he can’t protect her from. Can’t help if biomedical hazards end up on his clothes,  and if he comes home shot. 
He got shot. He’s the kind of person who doesn’t get forever with the woman he loves, because he can’t keep her safe. Even if he quit just then- enough people have made an enemy of him. She’d never be safe.
So he made a choice to cut his ties and let her go, and yes, every fucking night since he’s had at least one nightmare about what she looks like crying and asking him to stay. He never, ever wanted to see her like that, but he also never ever wanted her to be a widow. 
She’d find someone else. She’s so easy to love- he doesn’t like to think about someone else loving her, but he’s sure she won’t be alone. 
His voice catches in his throat.
“It is nice of you,” Spencer chokes out, “I never wanted you to have to do that.”
“Let’s not talk about this now,” she says, getting up to get him another serving, and he grabs her wrist.
“Ba- Hey, please. Talk to me.”
“What do you want me to say?” she says at him, but she doesn’t pull her wrist back. 
“I just-“ he stammers, but it’s heavy and something he can’t give up, the combination of her gaze under his and her soft skin in his grasp, “I can’t have you here and hate me. I just can’t take you hating me. I know- I know what I did. I know it’s not fair to ask and I know that we’re not together and I know it’s my fault but god, you can’t hate me. I can’t take it.”
“You think I hate you?”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“You think I came to the hospital in the middle of the night, slept in a waiting room, cooked you soup and slept on your couch because I hate you?”
He doesn’t know what to say. How could she still love him? 
“It’s you,” he replies. “You’d always do that for me.”
She’s closer now, moving into his space more and more and he can smell his own body soap on her because she showered here, and he’s overcome with a desire to hold her. 
“Why do you think that is?”
She’s almost in his lap now, and there’s a greed to this now, the way he pulls her a little bit closer. She tips her head back in a bitter, tinny laugh that he doesn’t like the sound of. 
“I mean, Spencer- I love you so much that I don’t even care if you love me back.”
“You still love me?”
“I’m working on it,” she says, a bitter smile on her face, “You’re hard to get over.”
“Don’t get over me.”
It’s not the smoothest thing he could’ve sid, and he kind of regrets the implication on her face, sees her gorgeous features crumple. 
“That’s mean, Spence.” 
“No! No. Don’t. Don’t-don’t do that. Don’t move on with your life and find someone else because this is the lightest I’ve felt in fucking weeks.”
Her eyes widen into saucers, and her grip tightens on his hands, and Spencer feels like he could fly. 
“I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have made you go and I should’ve let you be the person who picks me up at the hospital and I know, I know how lucky I am that you’re still here, that you cared enough. Please, please don’t get over me. I know it’s not far to ask.”
She blinks a few times at him before opening her arms for a hug, of which he flies into at breakneck speed. His ribs hurt but he’d forgotten what it was like to hold her. And yes, maybe wanting this makes himself selfish, but he wants this. Maybe this can the one thing he lets himself have. 
“I do love you. ” he speaks into her collarbone, and she shushes him. 
“No, no,” he says, looking up at her, her gorgeous doe eyes shaky with uncertainty he knows is his fault, “If you’ll still have me, I’d like to-I’d like to try again. And I know that you probably can’t trust me and I have so much to make up for and-“
“Spencer,” she says warmly, twining their fingers, “I’d like to kiss you now. Okay?”
He nods a bit fervently, shaking as he does, but when she kisses him-
It’s just as he remembers. She leans into him, her delicate fingers cupping his jaw and he wraps his spindles arms around the curve of her waist, pinning her to him like she might float away if untethered. 
When Spencer gets back to the office, he it’s not just his wounds that have healed. 
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babyleostuff · 2 months
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today was (not) a fairytale
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fluff (+ a bit of angst) 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!mingyu x fem!reader 𐙚 wc: 1.6k
. . . mingyu forgets about your anniversary
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mingyu was a busy guy, that was obvious. but one thing he was never too busy for was you. it didn’t matter if it was just a can you couldn’t open, or a spider that had to be killed - mingyu was always there for you, no questions asked. to be honest, you could call him and tell him you wanted a hug, and he’d drop whatever he was doing just so he could trap you in a bear hug for the rest of the evening. that was how whipped he was. 
and now he was late. two hours. 
at first you thought something had happened - you texted some of the boys to ask if they knew where he was, you called his mom - you even checked the latest news, worried to see any updates about a car accident. 
nothing. 
sitting at an expensive restaurant full of people by yourself was humiliating enough, but what bothered you even more was that it was supposed to be your anniversary dinner. mingyu never missed any milestones of your relationship, he even bought you small gifts on the date you had your first kiss. 
then it hit you - his location. quickly pulling your phone out of your bag, you couldn’t believe your eyes.
he was at seungcheol’s place. 
not bothering to call your boyfriend - it wasn’t like he was answering any of your calls before, so why bother - you called the oldest boy, fiddling with your napkin that you wouldn’t be probably using tonight either way. 
“hey, is everything okay?” seungcheol asked immediately. it wasn’t often that you called him, especially at such a late hour, so he figured something must have happened. 
“is mingyu with you?” you heard some shuffling in the background, and noises that sounded a lot like your boyfriend and hoshi. 
“um, yeah. you want me to pass him the phone?” you could clearly hear seungcheol’s confusion in his voice, but you weren’t in the “shitting rainbows and unicorns” mood, so you didn’t even bother with hiding your annoyance. 
“fan-fucking-tastic.” 
you couldn’t believe he actually forgot about your anniversary. you had been planning this date for such a long time now. getting a reservation at this restaurant wasn’t easy, even mingyu had to pull a few strings and flash a couple of polite smiles, so you could come here on the exact day of your milestone. you prepared matching outfits for god’s sake. how could have he forgotten? 
“tell him not to come back home tonight,” you said, and hung up the phone before seungcheol could say anything. 
you spend the whole ride home trying to keep your tears from falling. you didn’t know what was worse - sitting in a restaurant for two hours waiting for someone who was over at his friend’s house drinking soju, or that the love of your life forgot about something so important. 
the second you got inside your apartment you practically ripped off the dress you were wearing, suddenly almost disgusted by the feel of it on your skin. your shoes joined soon after, and not even five minutes after getting back home you got changed into PJs (for once not being mingyu’s shirt), and poured yourself a glass of wine. 
“happy anniversary i quess.” 
when you were about to turn off all of the lights in the living room for the night, you heard the door open and close with much more force than needed. 
“baby? baby, where ar-,” he emerged from around the corner, stopping right in front of you. you took in his form - hair tousled from the wind, his shirt from practice still on, and shoes on his feet, which never happened - mingyu never wore shoes inside the house. huh, he must’ve been in a real hurry to get here. 
“i’m so sorry, i got here as quickly as possible,” he said, a little out of breath. you had to stop the urge to laugh in his face because what the hell? 
“too bad you didn’t bother to show up where you really were supposed to be, mingyu,” you snickered, anger radiating off of you. your boyfriend knew he was in deep shit the second seungcheol shot him a worried look, and how he would make it up to you, he had no idea. 
“i know, baby-,” 
“don’t call me that. you don’t deserve it mingyu,” you pointed a finger at his chest. just then he noticed you got your nails done to match the design on his tie, and he could swear he died a little bit at that moment. “do you have any idea how humiliated i felt sitting there like an idiot, waiting for my fucking boyfriend who decided to go out with his friends on our anniversary?” 
“i called your friends, your family. i thought you got into an accident for fucks sake,” your voice cracked at the end of the sentence, as you finally felt something else than just anger. the thought of losing mingyu wasn’t something you wanted to think about on your anniversary night. “i was so excited for this, and you knew it,” you took in a shaky inhale, once again feeling the tears brimming in your eyes.  
it took everything from you not to hug mingyu, he looked so… sad, and just so defeated, and that wasn’t something you were used to seeing on your boyfriend’s face. 
“there are a thousand excuses on my mind right now, but none of them will excuse my behaviour,” he sighed, his lower lip trembling. please don't cry, please don’t cry. “i forgot,” he said, straightening his back a little. “i simply forgot, and nothing i do will make up for it.” 
tears clouded your eyes, and you couldn’t help when they started falling down your cheeks, probably ruining the makeup you put so much effort into. if you knew you’d end up crying on your anniversary night you’d use a waterproof mascara. mingyu hesitantly raised his hand, as if he was afraid you’d run away from him, but when he saw you didn’t move an inch, he started wiping off the tears of your face with a gentle swipe of his thumb, almost as if you were about to fall apart. 
“say something. no, yell at me,” he said, and put your hand against his chest. “you can even hit me,” mingyu said, pleading in his eyes. “please, just do something.” 
“i don’t want to yell at you,” you sniffled, wiping off the rest of the tears yourself. “and i definitely don’t want to hit you. i just-,” you looked at him and only then noticed the dark circles under his eyes. did his face get slimmer too? “when was the last time you slept?”
he looked a bit taken aback by your question, considering he was begging you to hit him like a second ago. “to be honest, i don’t know, but i took some naps in the practice room. that’s not import-,”  
“when was the last time you ate?” you interrupted him again. 
his eyes softened because there was no way he just stood you up on one of the most important days of the year, and you were asking him about his well being. “i don't know.” 
i don’t know. hearing those words from a person who inhaled food like a vacuum, and could never say no to a snack broke your heart. how did you not notice how exhausted he was before? 
“oh, mingyu,” you said, tearing up again. “why didn’t you tell me, i would’ve brought you some food.” 
“i know, but i didn’t want to burden you. i knew i’d be fine,” he said, voice gentle. “besides, that’s not important now. let’s talk about how big of an asshole i am,” he grabbed your face in both of his hands, tilting it more upwards. 
“how can you say it’s not important?” you murmured, nuzzling your face further into his palm. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you without food for longer than an hour.” 
“hey, i don’t eat that much,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his words, and seeing mingyu’s face lit up at your, albeit quiet, laughter, you felt the anger leaving you for good.  
maybe you were too selfish? all you lived for for the past week was the date, but in the process you managed to somehow miss how exhausted your boyfriend was. yes, he did forget, but he was so overworked lately, you couldn’t really blame him, right? and it wasn’t like you were a saint either, you missed some dates in the past too. 
“whatever you’re thinking, drop it,” he said sternly. “don’t try to make any excuses for me. i forgot, okay? it’s all my fault.” 
technically you knew you had every right to be furious at him, hell - an hour you cursed him out with every curse word you knew, but maybe it wasn't the time to think straight, and just give the light of your life a second chance. “i don’t want to fight,” you said, wrapping your hands around his wrists. “and we still have,” you looked over at the clock, “two hours before midnight. we have the wine, and i think i have a pizza in the freezer.” 
mingyu shook his head in disbelief. “there’s no way you’re real.” leaning in, he placed a peck on your cheek, filling your chest with a warm, fuzzy feeling. “you look beautiful by the way,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. “i’m really sorry.” 
“i know, gyu. i know,” you whispered. “and mingyu?” 
“yeah?” 
“you can call me “baby” again.”
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tetsumie · 1 year
Text
"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘"
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read part 2 here!
pairing: tsukishima x reader & suna x reader
genre: hurt/comfort
a/n: sorry i got carried away writing these ahh i sort of twisted the prompt of "when they call you clingy" into my own sort of thing idk how to explain but hopefully this turned out well :,) also not proofread so sorry about the mistakes! and as always feel free to send me requests and tell me ur thoughts on my writing!
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tsukishima kei
tsukishima, you, and a few of the former karsuno volleyball players decided to have a small little reunion dinner after not seeing each other for so long.
everyone's embracing each other with hugs and to be frank, it's really nice of him to invite you to meet his friends from high school! you're really looking forward to getting to know them and maybe even getting to know your boyfriend a bit more.
as all of you are sitting at the table debating what to order, there's much chit chat between everyone and you swear you haven't seen kei so carefree in a while. sure, he's still throwing his sarcastic, snarky comments but they don't hit too harshly towards his teammates.
they are most definitely used to this.
the food has arrived and way too much wine has been ordered. with their slurred words and pink cheeks, you can tell all of them are going to blackout the moment they all get home.
"kei, so how'd you pull this gorgeous girl?" tanaka asks out of nowhere "ain't no way she fell for your snarky ass personality."
you and him both let out a chuckle and he replied with, "nah, they're just clingy as fuck and i guess they were fun to keep around."
you go quiet and the laughter has sort of died out. but the drinks keep pouring and nishinoya speaks.
"god, you're a fucking asshole," nishinoya chimes. "she's way too good for you.
although the conversation begins to take a turn in a different direction, you can't seem to get his words out of your mind.
clingy. he thinks i'm clingy.
a ball of insecurity starts to form in your stomach and his comment starts the train of overthinking. you keep telling yourself that he's had too many drinks.
yet a part of you is telling you that drunk thoughts are sober words.
how long has he thought of me as "clingy?"
the small chuckles and laughs that escape your lips have come to a halt and now you're feeling incredibly insecure. you begin to zone out and start chugging down a few glasses of wine to drown out your surroundings.
after a few eventful hours, you and tsukishima decide to grab a taxi and head home for the night. he unlocks the door to your shared apartment and you immediately head into the bedroom to change your clothes, not sparing him a second glance.
tsukishima enters the bed after cleaning up and his arm drapes over your chest. your body goes completely stiff and you're super uncomfortable with his touch, especially after his comment about you being clingy.
the moment you hear his light snores, you slowly remove his arm off your body and turn to face away from him. a feeling of numbness begins to overtake your body and you feel a sense of emptiness within.
the next morning, tsukishima woke up with a horrible headache and he instantly regretted drinking so much last night. he groans and pats your side of the bed and is greeted by just the bedsheets and not you.
grumbling, he got out of bed in search of you and finds you standing by the balcony with a cup of coffee in your hand. in that moment, his heart skips a beat and he's reminded of how much he loves you.
you yelp in surprise when you feel two arms slither around your torso and his chin resting on your shoulder. "good morning baby," he kisses your cheek.
"hi kei," you say curtly.
"what's for breakfast?"
"i just made myself toasted bread with jam. you can just make some cereal or something. i think we still have your lucky charms in the pantry," you tell him.
he pulls away from you and he feels something is off with you. you feel distant.
the feeling is confirmed when the both of you are sitting on the living room sofa while watching the new episode of your favorite reality tv show. kei expects you to come close to him and rest your head on his shoulder like you usually do yet there you are, in his vicinity, but sitting on the other end of the couch, clinging to a throw pillow.
he can't seem to concentrate on the movie when the only thing he can see is you sitting to yourself, gone completely quiet. he doesn't know what's wrong and he can't rack his mind as to what might have happened that made you so distant.
after the movie ends, he kisses your forehead and he feels your body stiffen.
what's going on? i don't know what i did?
he pulls away and looks at you. "y/n, something's wrong," he states.
you refuse to meet his gaze now and your twiddling with your fingers. he seems to have no recollection of what he's said to you last night. although, he might not recall what he said, it's the only thing you can recall in your mind. ever since this morning, whenever, you look at him, the only thing running in your mind is his words, "nah, she's just clingy as fuck and i guess she was fun to keep around."
"we're good," you reply promptly. "don't worry about it."
he grabs your hands and puts them in his which catches you off guard. you love the feeling of his hand in yours but the rational part of your brain wants to pull away, thinking about how he thought you were so clingy.
"listen, i'm not good at this. i'm not good at communicating my feelings but for you, i want to do better. so please, it would mean a lot if you could tell me what's wrong so i can help you and... us."
this is the most genuine you've seen him in a while and although to most, it may have seemed like some half-assed speech but to you, it felt raw and vulnerable.
"ok well," you began. "last night, when we were out with your friends, you were talking with your friends and well, you mentioned something about me. and it made me wonder if you think i'm clingy?"
he was confused. "no, i don't think you're clingy anymore? i don't know what you're talking about?"
the "anymore" in his response to you was something that saddened you a little. he found me clingy yet never told me?
"so you did think i was clingy, right?"
with a deep breath, he began to explain himself, "when we got together, i wasn't really used to... being so close to someone. you would always hold my hand or loop your arm in mine or something. you would always be holding me or touching me and i wasn't sure how i felt it about it at first. i was never one for physical touch so when you began to show that to me, i just... it felt... suffocating."
you're looking into his eyes, swimming with sadness and searching for answers, and he feels a mixture of sadness and guilt as he continues to explain himself.
"but being with you, i've grown to love your touch and honestly, now that i think about it, i don't know what i'd do if you just stopped being yourself and clinging on to me. i would go insane if you stopped."
kei leans in for a hug and you hug him back. you missed holding him like this and well, you just miss him. but now that kei has said all this, you're not sure about anything anymore.
you pull away and tell him, "i'm sorry you couldn't tell me that you were uncomfortable with my touches. i should have asked you how fast or slow you wanted to go and i shouldn't have forced my affection on to you."
"if you want, we can slow down. i understand," you say with a tone of finality in your voice.
"no!" he immediately replied. "it's.. it's not that. you don't force your affection on to me. you never have. i just am awkward with affection and growing up, i've never had it so i'd get super fidgety and that's why i think i felt like you were being clingy. but i love it."
"i love it when you hold my hand when we're walking to the grocery store. i love it when you doodle on my hand with your fingers when we're waiting for the food to come when we eat out. i love it when you tell me about the little stories from work while you're cooking dinner. i love it when you mumble in your sleep and snuggle close to me when it gets cold at night. i love everything about you."
kei was very much out of his comfort zone as he told you all these things and it surprised you that he noticed all these little details. you could tell he was getting embarrassed, considering how his cheeks were turning pink. you couldn't help but let a little smile seep through your facial features.
"you're so sappy," you reply.
"oh shut up."
you both laugh and then he cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb in circles. "don't ever think you force your affection on me because you never do, okay?"
"okay, kei."
the both of you spend the rest of the day with one another, making comforting memories together that the both of you will fondly remember in the future.
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suna rintaro
you're not even sure how this argument even started. all you can remember is asking suna if he could accompany you to a work party that you were invited to. it was supposed to be a relatively relaxing event with not too much worries yet suna was once again trying to bail out.
"come on rin! it's one party and we never get to go out anymore," you try again for the nth time.
"y/n, jesus, i told you this, i don't want to fucking go! practice is draining me out and the one day i get off, you want me to go to some stupid fucking work party. can't you see that i want to be home?"
"we won't even have to be there that long! i just want you to come with me so you can meet some of my friends and support me. i'm really not asking for much," you counter. "i'm always trying to go to your games to support you from the stands and i'm asking you to do this one thing for me."
"i never fucking asked you to come to my games!" suna's voice began to rise and you felt yourself shrink. you had never seen him so intensely angry before. he was always so nonchalant so seeing this side of him made you nervous. "god, you're just so suffocating with everything. you always wanna do shit together, like jeez, give me a break. you're so fucking clingy sometimes; i just want space."
your mouth snaps shut and you can't find it in yourself to even reply. suna leaves the bedroom and you can head the jangle of his keys and the front door opens and then slams shut. a tear escapes from one eye and then all of a sudden, it's a full blown mental breakdown. you're sitting on the bed, crying off all your makeup.
after your cries turn into sniffles, you call up one of your colleagues, telling them you won't be attending the party. that night, you end up crying yourself to sleep.
suna had come home quite late that night after storming out.
in his head, he admits that the argument had blown up for no reason. but he just really didn't want to see your coworkers. he was cranky, annoyed, and irritated, making him deeply irrational.
as he walks into the bedroom, he sees you fast asleep in your clothes that you were planning to go out in and your makeup smudged all over your face. he felt incredibly guilty.
he messed up big time and he had to fix this. he hoped in the morning, the both of you would wake up together so he could talk it out and apologize.
you wake up the next morning feeling a lot better than last night. you turn to see suna lying in bed and a part of you just wants to run your fingers through your hair. as your fingers hover above his head, you're reminded of his words from last night.
you're so fucking clingy sometimes. i just want space.
your fingers immediately retracted and you decided to get up to start the rest of your day. you didn't want to let his words get to you. he said his opinion and there's nothing much you could do other than give him space. you'd be doing him a favor by giving him that space that he wanted, right?
suna shifts in bed, arm reaching out to your side of the bed, subconsciously. as he pats down your side of the bed, he feels the emptiness and he jolts up out of bed.
he's walking out of the bedroom and he sees you sitting on the couch, watching something on the television.
a sigh of relief escapes his mouth, thanking whatever deity out there that you hadn't left. even if you did, he couldn't blame you for it. he hurt you and there was no denying that.
"hi babe," he casually says alouds and plops on the couch next to you.
"hey."
your tone is cold and to be frank, you could care less than speak to him right now. seeing him is just a constant reminder of how clingy you are and you really don't want to be confronted with the feeling of sadness again.
in an attempt to smooth things over with you, he tries to start conversation in hopes that things will get back to normal naturally and maybe.. just maybe you'll know that he's sorry without him saying it.
"osamu was talking about some new onigiri thing he made and he wanted to drop some off for us to try. should i say yes?" he asked.
"sure."
your responses to his efforts are completely shut down and he's just praying that things get better with time. he reassures himself that things will go back to normal, it's just a matter of time. within a few days, things will be back to normal!
that's what he thought until his first volleyball match of the season came about. as he was standing in the court, his eyes scanned the rest of the stadium for your figure in hopes of finding you wearing his jersey but to no avail, he couldn't find you.
he assumed you were running late or stuck in traffic. no matter what you would be here, right?
but the first set is already over and you're nowhere to be seen. taking a quick break, he texts you:
suna: r u here?
suna: i don't see u in the stands.
it's delivered and suna's back in the court. he's misreading all of the opponent's attacks and his blocks are all being haphazardly done. the only thing on his mind is you.
the EJP coach calls for a timeout and sits him out for the rest of the match. "i don't know what's going on with you but you need to pull it together. your slacking is messing up with the rest of the team," coach berated him and all suna could do was nod his head.
he sat on the bench and immediately grabs his phone to text you.
suna: can you please answer?
suna: or call me? please?
suna: fuck y/n
suna: r u ok?
with no response, concern is etched onto his face. he tells his coach that he has to go and although he's about to suffer hell when he goes to practice tomorrow for dipping, he needs to see you.
you're seeing all of his messages.
you've seen all of them.
and you don't want to respond to a single one of them.
you know he's coming home and he's about to bombard you with questions and you don't want to respond to him. you don't want to come off as clingy again.
you hear the jangle of the keys and prepare yourself.
he opens the door and finds you in the kitchen, making yourself some snacks.
"so where were you today?" he begins.
"at home."
his hands find their way to your waist and he slowly turns you around to look him in the eye. "why didn't you come?"
you sigh in frustration. "i don't know what you want from me. you say i'm clingy and you want some space and on top of that you mentioned how you've never asked me to go to any of your games so here i am respecting your wishes like you asked yet you have the fucking audacity to ask me where i was and why i wasn't with you?"
his hands let go of your waist and he steps back to fully look at you.
"rin, i don't know what you want from me anymore."
suna's mouth opens and then shuts, not sure as to what to say to you. you were more upset about his comment than you let on and now all your anger and frustration was coming out.
"listen, i-"
"no, you listen to me," you interrupt, immediately shutting him up. "all i wanted that night was for you to come to my work party. it's all i wanted. that party was mainly for me because i helped our company reach this new milestone! and i wanted you to come and celebrate with me and my colleagues. is it so much to ask for my boyfriend to come support me?"
"and then you go on to say i'm clingy and do you have any idea how much it hurt me when you said that? when you would talk to me about anything, the only thing going through my head would be the fact that you called me clingy and god, i just wanted to vanish in thin air because i hated knowing that you thought that of me which is why i gave you your space. i kept thinking you just didn't want my affection."
you rest your elbows on the kitchen countertop and put your face in your hands. you finally burst out with all the feelings that have been suffocating your mind. it felt good to finally relieve it all but you could only imagine what was going through his mind. was he mad or upset or did he just not care about my feelings?
all of a sudden, you feel two arms wrap around your torso and kisses to the top of your head.
"love, you're not clingy. if anything, i'm the clingy one. i always want you by my side like at my games or when i go out with my friends or even if i'm just lying in bed. i want you."
he strokes your hair and now you're turning around to look at him again. his eyes are wide and a bit glassy. this is probably one of the first times you've seen emotion on his face aside from his regular snarky remarks.
"i wish i could take back what i said that night but i can't. but please know that i don't know what i'd do without you. i was really upset that night and all i wanted to was just sleep it off. but your insistence to go got me aggravated and i lashed out. you don't deserve that. you never deserve that."
"i want to be the one you wake up to in the morning. i want to be the one you take to all your work parties and events. i want to be the one you tell you gossip with. i want to be the one you have your late night talks with. i want to be the one you end your nights with. i want to be the one you spend the rest of your life with. i want to be yours."
tears started to escape your eyes and your heart was swollen. suna was never one to be so open with his emotions yet here he was opening so much to you. you hug his torso and sob into his chest.
"i love you, i'm sorry," you say.
"i love you too, and i'm sorry too," he replies, kissing the top of your forehead.
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readychilledwine · 4 months
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Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.
( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)
Here Without You
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Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.
Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating
A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.
*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*
💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙
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You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.
Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.
You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.
The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.
Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.
You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.
You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.
You were alone.
And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.
The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-
You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.
This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.
Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"
You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."
Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.
You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.
It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.
"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"
You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."
Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.
"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"
"Lucien and Tamlin."
Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"
"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."
He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.
Your bed had never felt so soft.
Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.
His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.
Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.
But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.
Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.
But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.
The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.
The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.
The look of a father mourning lost time.
Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.
"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"
Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."
Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.
If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-
The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."
An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"
Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."
Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"
"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"
Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."
Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."
Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.
Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.
Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."
Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"
"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."
Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.
"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."
Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.
He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.
You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.
He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."
You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.
Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."
He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."
"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"
Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."
He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."
"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.
It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."
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**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.
My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.
General Taglist:
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
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