koreluvsspring - Tumblr blog

koreluvsspring · 11 days ago

Note

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

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koreluvsspring · 13 days ago

Text

dress up. (toji fushiguro x f!reader)

synopsis: in an attempt to make some memories, you come up with the idea of a family costume for this year’s halloween. toji and megumi might need a little convincing, though…

a/n: first fic in like a year and first time writing for my babygirl toji :3

word count: 1.1k

toji carelessly lets himself fall next to you, his sheer body weight causing the couch to jolt slightly. he nods at your phone. “whatcha looking at?”

“just some costumes. halloween’s coming up and—”

a smile creeps up on toji’s face before you can get another word out. “you shoulda asked me first, baby. i got a few good ideas. patient and nurse could work, i love a woman in uniform—my woman in uniform. cop and prisoner, too. would give us a good excuse to finally buy some handcuffs.” he winks.

“sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while,” you tease. “but unfortunately, none of those are gonna work.”

toji’s face falls ever so slightly and you have to hold back a laugh at seeing a grown man pout.

“had you let me finish, you’d know i want to do a family costume.”

“baby, c’mon,” he groans, rubbing his face. “i never go all out f’ halloween, you know that.”

you arch a brow. “you seemed eager a few seconds ago.”

he huffs. “that was different.”

“mhm, sure,” you reply, sarcastically. “i don’t mind suggestions, just a little more family friendly and less… porn-y.”

“where’s the fun in that?” he deadpans.

you smack his bicep. “save the roleplaying for later. i mean, just look at how cute these are.”

you hand him your phone and he reluctantly takes it. he’s seen this app before; pinterest, he believes it’s called. his eyes roam over the page for a moment, seeing various families of three dressed in an array of costumes. rock, paper and scissors. ketchup, mustard and a hot dog. fork, knife, and spoon.

he hands you back your phone when he decides he’s seen enough. “baby, those are humiliating.”

“no they’re not! they’re fun.” you snatch the device back, furiously scrolling. “besides, we’re making memories for megumi to look back on when he’s older.”

“have you met the little twerp? he’s practically a 70 year old man in the body of a second grader.” toji shakes his head with a smile. “you sure he’d even wanna do this?”

“we should at least ask him. then he can’t say we never tried.”

toji’s eyes soften; you really were giving this your all. your dedication to making megumi’s childhood a happy and healthy one was something that tugged at his heart strings; especially since toji had never received that kind of affection in his youth. and yet, here was a beautiful woman he was privileged to call his wife trying her best to break that generational curse. he truly was a lucky man.

“megumi!” shouts toji, suddenly determined to make this family costume work. “get in here!”

megumi’s little voice comes back muffled from his upstairs bedroom. “wait, i’m almost done with this level!”

“tch, he’s glued to that damn thing. what’s it called? a switch?” toji shakes his head and mumbles, “should’ve never let you buy it f’ him.”

“don’t be jealous,” you tease. “if you’re good, i’ll get you one for christmas too.”

toji smirks. “actually, i wanted to ask for a special gift this year.”

“oh yeah? what’s that?”

“y’know how megumi’s been askin’ for a sibling—”

you shove his shoulder and he laughs.

toji takes that as his cue to leave and talk to megumi, standing from the couch with an exaggerated groan. (you always made fun of him for it, claiming that it was such an old man thing to do. he always refuted that you knew what you were getting into when you married someone his age.)

he heads upstairs, delivering a firm knock when he reaches megumi’s door. “get out here, kiddo. need to talk to ya real quick.”

he hears a groan then the shuffling of feet. the door swings open and there stands his son, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. clearly, he wasn’t thrilled about having to pause his game.

“sheesh, kid,” toji huffs. “don’t make that face, starting to look like your old man.”

“what is it, dad?” he sighs in exasperation.

“we’re dressing up for halloween this year. as a family.”

that catches the eight year old off guard. “what? why?”

“for the memories or somethin’.”

“i don’t really wanna…” megumi trails off.

toji scratches the back of his head. “i hear ya. but it’ll make your mom real happy so we’re doin’ it.”

megumi purses his lips. “what’s the costume?”

“i dunno. we can’t seem t’ decide. got any ideas?”

“hmmm… i kinda wanted to be michael meyers this year.”

“it’s a group costume, megumi, ya can’t just— hang on, michael meyers? how the hell do you know about him?”

megumi shrugs as if he doesn’t see the issue. “i saw the movie at uncle shiu’s house once.”

toji makes a mental note to never shiu babysit megumi again. or at the very least, go over what movies a second grader is allowed to watch.

toji clears his throat. “well, forget you ever saw it. and don’t tell your mother, got it?”

megumi nods.

“good. erm… any other ideas?”

there’s a silence between the two.

“c’mon, kid, think of something. if not, your mom’s gonna make us dress up as condiments or silverware or somethin’ stupid.”

megumi groans, clearly fed up with the conversation. “can i just go back to playing super mario bros?”

it’s as if a lightbulb goes off in toji’s mind. “you like those guys?”

megumi nods slowly. “yeah… why?”

“you wanna be one of ‘em for halloween?”

megumi’s face lights up. “really? can i be luigi?”

toji grins, satisfied with his reaction. “don’t see why not.”

“cool! does that mean you’ll be mario?”

his dad chuckles. “guess so.”

“ooh and mom could be princess peach!”

“that’s the, uh… pink one, right?”

megumi giggles at his father’s obliviousness, nodding.

“works out then. i’ll go tell your mama.” he ruffles his son’s tar black hair. “thanks, megs. gonna make her day.”

megumi flashes a toothy grin then retreats back into his room.

when toji returns to the living room with a smug smile and pep in his step, you take notice.

“what’s with you?” you inquire.

“oh, nothin’. just got megumi to agree on a family costume, that’s all.”

you eye your husband with interest. “oh really?”

“you’re welcome, princess. speaking of which, you’re gonna need a pink dress and crown.”

“well, now i’m really curious.”

“you know that little game he likes? the one with the plumber brothers—” before he can even finish, you shoot up from your comfortable position.

“how didn’t i think of that sooner? it’s perfect!”

“megs seemed pretty excited about it too. knew exactly which character he wanted to be and everythin’.”

you nearly melt. “that’s all what i wanted. i’ll order the costumes right away.” you lean over to pepper his face in kisses. “thank you so much, toji.”

he grunts, though he’s smiling so hard his scar tilts upwards. “yeah, yeah. how about you thank me with that christmas present i was talkin’ about earlier?”

you pull away from him and grin. “nice try.”

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koreluvsspring · 14 days ago

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

⟩ Part One | » Part Two « ⟨

cw : MDNI - s1 Lestat, top male reader, sub Lestat, jealous Lestat, i bagged a baddie by being autistic aesthetic, nsfw, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of death, mentions of homophobia, inappropriate use of lipstick, lestat crashes out bad, y'all are on your own with the french translations, goodluck, anon request. wc : 12.8k

Lestat adored you as much as you worshiped him on bended knee. In your mind, you knew you threaded a line that could lead to a prosperous life, or one that would end in an instance. You were more than knowledge about the mans’ power and true nature, but your heart—your heart was his completely.

The vampire was more than familiar with those who'd been enthralled with him. Wanting to occupy his space, his life, his bed, his lips even, but you? He had such a sick fascination to keep you around and in his current immortal life, and then some. He did not proclaim love, even though it was obvious with the affection he smothered you in and vice versa.

What he couldn't stand, was the eyes of others roaming your body, thoughts wild and with hunger for you. Strangers ready to take you away from him, to indulge in sweet whispers and rough touches throughout the night. No one deserved your praise, your love, your adoration. To take his sun away, the shining star in his seemingly everlasting life?

Any man or woman who so much as gazed upon your divine form would meet with the cold hands of death much sooner than fate designed.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Ma bien-aimée, could you carry me to my coffin?”

You could barely register the words Lestat spoke as his lips pressed against the top of your head. Sitting up from your current position, you tilted your head up to meet the others' gaze. His eyes seduced you entirely without even trying, your half lidded eyes holding nothing but love and adoration for the man below you. “Ain't ya’ got legs? I've been much rougher than this before Les.” Your voice rumbled in a slightly deeper pitch seeing as you'd just woken up.

Your nude bodies seemed to shift and brush over each other as you moved. The couches weren't the best places to have such intimate moments, but you knew Lestat didn't have a bed, even for show. You knew of a guest room not too far off from his own, and that maybe he could have one there, but you never got the chance to mention it to him.

Lestat made a choked sound as you pulled away from his body, a ripple of warmth shooting up his spine. You'd gently chewed against your bottom lip as you pulled out and away from Lestat, feeling him cling onto what he could before the connection was broken. “Bien-aimé, tu es grand même quand tu dors,” he muttered to himself.

“Want me to run ya’ a bath Les?”

“It is too close to sunrise, I will take one later.”

“You sure? Wouldn't want to get your coffin all dirty.” You managed to find undergarments which had nearly been ripped to shreds with how eager Lestat had been. He'd vented out his frustrations, how Louis seemed to be avoiding him for some time now after — what he described as — having a blissful night of exotic wonders in each other's embrace. Not that you minded Lestat laying with others, just as he didn't judge you for being as queer as you were.

Ever since Lestat pulled you in, Louis had grown uneasy around you, almost as if he disliked you. You'd spoken to him before, but he dismissed you or ignored you most times — caring not for how you looked, how you acted, nor where you were from. It was truly as if he didn't want anything to do with you.

“I can always buy a new one, but if it is your mess, I don't mind it reeking of you for a while.”

You couldn't tell if that was an insult or a compliment, but you didn't take it to heart. “Well Les, was wonder’n if you wanted to see a show tomorrow, or maybe perform tonight. Haven't heard you play on stage in a while now!” Your arms maneuvered themselves under Lestats' legs and back before he proceeded to hook his arms around your neck.

“I would love to, really, but I have pressing matters to get to tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You almost seemed sad at that moment as you carried Lestat up the stairs, and apparently it was shown on your face as well.

“Stop that, you look like a kicked puppy when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That…that face. You pout, you give me those eyes, almost begging for something. I will spare time to perform, I promise, but...I have plans at the moment.”

That was the last conversation you could remember having with the vampire before he seemed to disappear like smoke. He stopped visiting, stopped showing around, and suddenly you were alone. It almost seemed wrong, to go out into town by yourself, running your business without seeing him flaunt around you or sit on his lap. It was odd. But you knew what he was, what he truly was. A creature of the night. A God compared to the mortal you were.

And all you could do is wish longingly for his return.

For his touch.

For his voice.

For his love.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You looked down at yourself, feeling a little overdressed for the occasion – even though it was a wedding – suits and ties never truly felt like you. Lestat was the fashionista, so to speak. One who loved to dress you up like a doll, having dragged you from tailor to tailor after one glance at your wardrobe. Though he never really complained with the way your suspenders seemed to shape your ass perfectly – perfectly enough that he felt the need to cop a feel whenever you dawned them.

In your hand you fiddled the RSVP that had been recently slipped through your mailslot, thumb running over the engraving on the card and your heart throbbing within your ears. Yes, Louis had a very caring sister that adored you, but you felt odd appearing at the wedding after Louis made every attempt to cut you out of his life. “Grace invited you,” you muttered to yourself, hearing the yard flood with noise, now realizing just how many people occupied said space. “If they didn’t want you here, they wouldn't have invited you…” You tried to coach yourself as nervousness wracked the entirety of your body, but it only seemed to worsen with every passing minute.

Your normal social butterfly self seemed to turn into more of a wallflower. Most of the people there knew the family and the couple – whether they be relatives or childhood friends – but you felt like a stranger within it all. Just the oddball bumpkin who’d started running the club down the lane. Nothing special. The sun was still out, and at that moment you had doubts that Lestat would be around. It almost felt like you needed him to hold your hand, at least to settle your buzzing nerves. Unfortunately, last you heard was that Lestat left a rather unsavory impression on the family, or so they say.

Sitting in the farthest seat you could, you sat and waited, watching the couple say their vows and declare their love for eachother. You could almost hear the nagging of your Ma and Memaw now, asking when you were going to bring some pretty girl around one day rather than a sack of potatoes over your shoulder. Wondering when they’ll get grandchildren from you. Your eyes left the couple as they jumped the broom, clapping your hands in a celebratory fashion with a sad smile appearing on your lips. Would marriage even be a chance in your future? Children even?

As you reminisced on your somber past, the evening seemed to turn into night and with the night came blaring music, laughter, and talk. Everyone seemed so happy, yet you'd kept your eye out for the blonde man who'd yet to crash said wedding. You could only assume that the two men didn’t end up on a good note, at least on Louis' side, seeing as Lestat spoke of him often to you. He always spoke of what was troubling him, his woes and worries as you two would share the couch and sometimes even your own bed.

“There you are! Been lookin’ all over for you!” Your shoulders jumped in surprise, the wine you were sipping on hitting the back of your throat as you tried your best to clear it. Grace made her way over with her now newly wedded husband in tow, holding the hem of her dress so as to not drag it on the ground. “Oh don’t try to hide yourself now country boy, where have you been?” She gave a playful pinch against your arm, none too painful, but she seemed much stronger than she looked.

Rubbing against the area on you arm after placing down the glass, you offered a shy smile in return. “Well, I assumed I wasn’t…welcome here. Family is a joy to be around, but I wasn’t sure all of you enjoyed being around me, is all.” You made a small pained noise as the smaller woman called you out by your name and you were pinched once again – in the same spot no less. You glanced down and then to the female, head tilted to the side in a questionable fashion, as if wondering why she was beating you up so badly.

“Boy, don’t let Mamaw hear that! She loved having your company, much better than that French White Louis is doin…business with, something about him just don’t sit right with me. But you? You’re sweeter than a pot of honey, and Paul seems to have taken a liking to you!”

“More than what most could say.” Levi gestured to himself, knowing that Paul cared not for him or the fact that Levi seemed to have married with his sister.

“Paul’ll warm up…one day, though I think he is just be’n protective is all. His darling sister being carried away with someone he barely knows, I could understand his worries,” you chided. You knew all too well how that felt, the protectiveness and all. A fleeting memory if anything. “Not to mention he certainly doesn’t like the fact that you are not wholly faithful to the name of the Lord and Christ. You know how he is Levi, just be happy he didn’t do anything rash during the vows…” As you spoke to the married couple you could feel eyes practically piercing through the side of your head. Your gaze slowly drifted, flickering past guests and family friends that seemed to mingle between each other.

You blinked almost feverishly as you came to see Louis staring directly at you, bewildered and almost unsure if you were really there. He didn’t come to confront you – no – but instead saw your gaze match his before going back to the slice of cake he was indulging himself in while with his brother. Though that didn’t stop him from glancing over every now and then. “And please, Ma du lac doesn’t need to know what I thought. I was just worried is all. Louis doesn’t seem to like me all too much at the moment. I can’t find what needle got stuck in his ass, but the moment I do, I’ll yank that grumpy mug completely. That way he won’t be runnin around frown’n all the damn time.”

Grace practically cackled as such a thought, wiping away a stray tear before gently touching against the spot she pinched, though now you were on high alert in case she decided to bruise you anymore than she’s already done. “Well, know that you’re welcome here and that I’m very happy you came. Enjoy yourself country boy. Looks like you may have needed a day out anyways. You look like a lost puppy over here at the table! For someone who runs a club, I didn’t take you as the shy type of man. I can introduce you to some people if you’d like.”

“No need!” You quickly held your hands up and laughed it off. “I’m just not used to gatherings like this I guess. I’ve only been here for a few months, so being invited to your wedding – it wasn’t what I was expect’n. Anyhow, I can mingle by myself, I assure you. You two enjoy your night, Grace,” giving a short nod as a farewell to the female, you did the same to her partner. “– Levi.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself far from most of the commotion, picking at the plate of chocolate cake that you happened to pick up.

“Didn’t expect you to be here…”

What was it with the Du lacs’ and their ability to scare you, while compromised with food or a drink no less? You cleared your throat before turning to Louis who didn’t look none too pleased to see your face. “Well, I said this before, I’ll say it again. I didn’t expect to be here neither. Your…Your sister invited me last minute. I was hesitant to even come, I didn’t want to…upset you more than I already have bein’ around here and all.”

Louis had always been a wildcard to you. He was a smart man, you knew that, but he was always shot down and put under the boot of the white man because of the color of his skin. You found it insulting that the world today would treat those with different colors and tints to their skin like stray dogs – tossing them scraps when they feel sorry, a sliver of a bone when they do something that pleases them, a collar…when they want someone loyal to work for them. But if they grew tired of them, found even the slightest bit of fight or defiance? They’d dispose of them or throw them in a hole they wouldn’t be able to dig themselves out of.

You knew discrimination when you saw it, heard it even. And you knew first hand how it felt, even with your own family looking down on you, not because of the way you looked, but because of what you presented yourself as. Louis had a name for himself, but respect was rarely a two way street when someone of a higher status spoke to him. But you saw yourself as equals, human beings. There was no ill will you bore towards him, but you couldn’t understand the ill will he held towards you.

Seeing as Louis hadn’t responded, you found yourself a bit awkward and out of place. “Seems I’ve…overstayed my welcome. Tell Paul I said hello, I'll get out of your hair.”

“Wait–” Suddenly you felt a hand grip against your arm, tugging you gently before a sigh came from the other. “Look, I…I don’t hate you man. Grace chewed me out good when I told her I didn’t care to see your face around. I guess I just – I don’t know, I haven’t been myself lately is all. I’ve been a little unfair to you. Hell, even Paul says you're a walking angel…or something like that? What I’m saying is, I judged you too harshly before gettin’ to know you.” In that moment, Louis spoke with sincerity in his voice, though all you could hope is that it came from the heart as well.

“If that’s your way of apologizing, I ain’t complaining.” There was a cheeky smile that appeared on your face before you gave the other a knowing look. “If you wanted to really say you’re sorry, I’d love to see an encore of – what did you call it? The ‘ABCDEFGs’, was it?”

“Oh god, now don’t you go start’n nothin man!” Louis playfully punched your shoulder and flashed his brilliant white teeth as a smile appeared against his face. A much better look than him always running around with a frown, is what you thought.

“Well, I ain’t never seen nobody tap their feet like that, ain’t had a clue that the Louis du lac knew how to put on a show!” You joked on.

“Yeah, and it’s a first – and the last time you see’n any of that. You lucky it’s Graces wedding, I’d have been halfway down the quarter the moment those shoes came out if it wasn’t.” Louis let out a bit of laughter as you two seemed to go back and forth. He assumed that maybe he just had a little too much wine or maybe one too many slices of cake, that the sugar and the alcohol was getting to him. How did he not notice how much of a joy it was to be around you?

You didn’t bring anything dreary or depressing to the table, nor did you try to flex wealth or name to him, even upon meeting him. Maybe he’d invite you around more, for dinners, maybe an outing if he had time between handling his own work. It was a moment between you two before both your laughters died down and the voices of others clambering about reached your ears. The space between the two of you was impregnated by a comfortable silence shared, though it seemed as if something was being held back.

“So how has–”

“So how have you–”

You both stopped and chuckled before you nodded your head towards Louis. “Go ahead, and don’t fight me on it. If you do, I’ll forget what I was tryin to tell ya in the first place. It happens a lot, believe me. I got it in my head, so–” You then gestured for him to continue as you had started a quick ramble, trying to keep your question at bay and at the forefront of your mind before it disappeared.

“Right…?” He spoke, squinting at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Was just wondering, how you and Lestat was doin’ is all. Curious.” It seemed as if he was just as uncomfortable as he was eager for an answer when saying his name. You couldn’t blame him. Lestat was on Louis like a tick on a dog before you appeared, and after? It seemed like you were his new attraction, though after whatever disagreement or argument they last had, Louis seemed to have given him the cold shoulder.

“Honestly?...I’m not much sure myself. Figure he done got tired of lil old me is all. Haven’t seen him in some time now, a few weeks or so. Nothing to get all down about really. Flaunted about how I made him laugh and..a little more, but nothin special Louis. Last I heard, Les was looking for you. Kept wondering why it seemed like you were hidin’ from him.” You spoke truthfully as Louis’ brows furrowed together in thought before he swatted his hand.

“I stopped doing business with him. I figured I’m good on my own as is. It just wasn’t a right fit is all. Better that he’s not around no more. I can actually focus for once.” Picking up the wine glass he once abandoned while speaking to you, he took a sip before continuing, pointing a finger at you with the same hand that held said drink.. “So, what was it that you wanted to ask me?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but clearly the thought had already gone like the wind. Louis took that silence into consideration before sighing.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you forgot?”

“Slipped my mind a bit, yeah,” you say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head as you watched Louis smile behind his cup, shaking his head at your antics. “If I can’t remember, it couldn’t have been that important!” Though truth be told, you had another question now rolling about in your mind. Did he know about what Lestat truly was under the guise of being this charming foreigner who stumbled across such a place?

“Anyways, besides still handling the club right now, I’ve been enjoying the daylight hours much more. Sometimes…club gets boring. Same band playing twice that week? Pass. Place won’t burn down or go under if I leave for a night or two to sleep. Been visiting, though everyone said you’d been busy or asleep for the most part. Guess stopin to smell the roses every once in a while ain’t too bad.”

Louis returned a small smile to you. “You seem like you’re doing alright for yourself,” he praised, patting you on the shoulder. “If you ever need any help, I’m around. And from what I know so far, Grace ain’t gon’ leave you alone no way. If she had it her way, you’d be another brother I’d have to take care of.”

“Take care of? Me? I think that would be my job if anything. And look, Levi is already lookin at me like I’mma steal his wife away. It ain’t my fault she likes my company so much! Well that and she’s been craving those sugar cookies I brought some months ago. Promised I’d share the recipe at one point or another.” Suddenly you made a pained face as Louis slapped your arm in the exact spot that Grace pinched you, twice.

“Those were yours?!”

Rubbing against your poor sore arm, you nodded.“Yeah? Look, I can’t cook actual meals without damn near burning down half the block. I’m more useless than a pair of tits on a horse in the kitchen! Baking, that’s when you can be messy on purpose and try all sorts of stuff in the kitchen.”

Louis sighed with a grin on his lips before looking at you, this time having claimed the knowing look. “Well, now you’ll have me pounding at your door whenever I have a sweet tooth. Could have sworn they were some sort of imported sweets or somethin like that. Grace nearly took my hand for the last one.”

“I don’t doubt that, but she’ll take more than just your hand iffen she hears you getting the recipe before her.”

“Oh you know she wouldn’t do anything that crazy…”

The two of you paused and then glanced at each other for a split second before bursting out into laughter. Louis was half kneeled over while holding an arm against his stomach all while you tried to keep your balance with one hand on the table directly behind you. It took about a minute or two for the both of you to calm down, Louis wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Didn’t mean to have you all tickled t..tonight,” you stated as you proceeded to calm yourself down.

“I think they put something in the wine, I’m telling you.” Louis held up his nearly finished glass before turning and hearing you yawn. It was getting late, but for him, this was most likely going to be an all night event.

“I should be headin back to my place. Been up all day as nervous as a bull in a nursery. Not a wink of sleep either. Was worried I’d be out of place or that I was overdressed, or that the invite slipped through the wrong mailslot.” You never normally had anxiety play such a big part in your life, but it had you running rampant all morning.

Unable to think properly, your room was still a mess after throwing clothes out of the closet and stressing about what looks best with your favorite pair of boots. Lestat would have known how to dress you accordingly – now that was something that you truly missed. He refused to let you go out looking like a hot mess, though he didn’t mind dragging that hot mess around a corner and doing whatever came to mind when he felt like it.

“I take the blame for that. Shouldn’t have made you feel like I hated you so much. You’re pretty alright…’country boy’.” There was once again a grin on Louis face at the teasing name, noticing the eye roll as you soon said your goodbyes. As Grace called for her brother and you snuck another swig of wine on your way out, your exit was cut short by someone stepping right in front of you. And to your surprise, it was Paul.

Paul.

A sweet boy, his mother calling him fragile while others outside the family called in delusional. You weren’t one to ever judge, and you weren’t starting either. You were one of the few people who listened to Paul truly, not from being a patron of the church, not being paid in anyway. You knew his mind was different from others, but he was still flesh and blood, still human.

He never hurt anyone, and to call him crazy was more of an insult to him, and would do no good. You never thought he was crazy, not once. Just blessed in a different way, though you couldn’t help but to have your concerns. When he spoke to himself, knowing he’s been in and out of the institution, and how everyone seemed to worry – it would keep anyone on edge. But everytime he spoke to you, he never gave you any trouble. He was loved, and you could only hope that he kept a good head on his shoulders.

“Paul! It’s nice to see you again! I was just askin–” Suddenly he grabbed both your arms, a worried look appearing on your face as you looked back at his own concerned form.

“Are you still talking to him? That..”

“Les? No..I ain’t spoke to him in sometime. Is everything…okay Paul?”

“Keep away from him.” He spoke in urgency. “Louis is being dragged by that man – no – that devil. He ain’t got his claws in you yet, he’s tryin. Don’t let him take your wings, your light, please.” Paul warned, though his grip was as if you were going to disappear if he even thought to let you go. “Are you faring well? The birds asked about you, about your mind.”

“I’ve been alright, I assure you Paul. I want to put your uneasiness to rest, I’m takin’ good care of myself and can only hope that you are too.” You placed your hands against his own arms, giving him a reassuring squeeze before seeing him nod slightly, letting his grip slide and hands fall to his sides. “Been thinkin about what I’mma do with myself. Only job I have is running the club currently, I’ve started taking breaks though. Feels good, clearing my mind a much as my body. Sometimes you need a break from the loud music and attention, it gets to be too much for some people – for me. Being in the company of a good book at the end of the day can sometimes cleanse the soul.”

It wasn’t until then that a thought came to mind and you dug in your pocket, pulling out a silver chain necklace with a dove and a cross charm dangling from it. “Meant to give you this a while ago. Was from my own. I thought that maybe you’d find better use in it than me.”

Paul blinked for a moment, looking at the necklace in slight awe and confusion as it puddled into his hand, the chiliness of the metal bringing slight goosebumps. He looked at the piece of jewelry before rapidly shaking his head, balling his hand around it before trying to stuff it back in your hands, “I can’t – I couldn’t, you need them. Close to your heart.”

“Paul, please...I don’t mind. They would probably want it this way anyhow, not like any of my family’s gon ask about it anyhow.” As Paul opened his hand to drop the necklace in your palms, he could no longer feel it as your hands wrapped around his one. When you pulled away, none of you had it in your hands. Instead, it was somewhat wrapped around his wrist, a little trick you learned some time ago.

“I have to go, Paul, but I’ll see you soon, alright? Tell Ma du Lac I said hello, and make sure that brother of yours behaves!” You called out as you started making your way out of the yard, having eaten and drank your fill, and knowing Paul had yet to realize the necklace was on his wrist. When he did, he’d do his best to give it back to you, but you’d be too far gone for that to happen.

As you finally made your escape, you listened to the band play and as the music got further and further as you walked your way home. It was some distance away, but you couldn’t trust yourself to drive – not like many people trusted you behind the wheel anyways. You assumed that you would simply resume the life you lived before Lestat – thinking that he may have left the city, found some other enjoyment elsewhere, but he didn’t seem like the type to do so. That didn’t sound like your Lestat.

Your thoughts paused for a moment and a frown appeared on your lips. He wasn’t truly yours. You didn’t know what relationship the two of you shared, though his sweet words always seemed to seduce you back into his arms.

But you could say the same, how whenever you swooned over him, he seemed to melt right into your arms, begging you to tell him what he may have missed from being busy the days prior, or to simply know what thoughts were running through your head. And you knew his tricks – that he was more than fully capable of reading your mind, yet he would ask you. He would sprawl across your body like a common house cat while you’d yammer on, combing your fingers through his blonde locks while he cooed in his french tongue.

Shaking your head and trying to rid of the bittersweet memory that left an odd taste in your mouth, instead savoring the night you spent speaking with Louis and his family, not knowing what sort of darkness would soon befall them once the sun rose.

The rest of your night was spent in the comforts of your room, spending a few hours cleaning, biding time, too exhausted to manage a club and too caught in your own thoughts to go chasing after Lestat like a dog. You knew where he stayed, but he was free spirited. Did what he want when he wanted. Did as he pleased. Who were you, a small country boy who stumbled upon a vampire – who would you be to try and stop him? You could have prowled in the nighttime to try and look for him, but at the end of the day, he was the vampire, and you?

Human.

Your days and nights turned normal, more than you really wanted. There was no thrill, no real spark other than the new people that appeared every now and then at the club, new faces, new performances. And as the name of your club spread throughout the south, your name grew in popularity. There was a time where you’d presented yourself on stage after weeks of new encounters, introducing yourself before the main performance came on. Apparently your pre-show talk had the audience in tears, laughing, clapping, and asking for more.

You had a way about yourself to somehow make the room that much brighter. Comedy was now your limelight, though it didn’t take a genius to know that things came to you naturally. It wasn’t normal for cubs at the time, but it was your business after all.

Outside the club, a few weeks after the wedding, you learned of Pauls’ passing. You stopped by to state your condolences to the family, and even happened to ask where Louis went. When you finally got in touch with Grace – seeing as his Mama had nothing good to say about him – she said he’d done ran off. Whether it be the guilt of not being able to protect his brother from themself or because of all the sudden burdens he felt collapse onto him all at once. You knew Louis was probably devastated, but his sudden disappearance? It had Lestat written all over it, though you had once again heard nothing from one or the other, so what was the point in chasing after a ghost?

The next few months, Lestat seemed to fade into the back of your mind, nearly forgotten. Your days grew busier and the months grew bitter. Life went on as if the vampire never existed. Grace and yourself wrote weekly when you didn’t have time to visit and vice versa. She’d attended one of your shows when she had the time, with Levi in tow and the two even agreed that you were quite the comedian, though they weren’t much club goers.

Of course it wasn’t an every night thing and you had most definitely started to enjoy the mornings where you could occupy yourself and destress from the night before. Having to be around people, entertain, greet, drink, talk with others everyday got tiring real fast. If you didn’t catch a break or have a little ‘you’ time, people would start seeing a not-so friendly side of you that only showed up if you were woken up rudely. Overstimulated, if you will.

There were nights where you grew lonely, where the words on a page couldn’t serve much as companions. Not that Shakespere was the best partner in crime, but it did some to escape the dry and plain days that left you bored itching for something new. You weren’t one to walk the strip, not with the people that normally ran past those parts. You had no problem with the girls, but at the moment, none seemed to fit your taste, and none too many men were as open as you were.

You got the occasional gossip from one Jane to the other John – how people questioned the way you dressed, the way you spoke, how you acted between man and woman and who’s attention you’d seek out the most. You didn’t let such a thing get to your head, whether it was discrimination for which way your pendulum swung or otherwise.

But it didn’t seem to stop trouble from coming your way.

Occasional threats in the mail, rocks thrown at your windows in the dead of night, your car tires being slashed and car scratched to hell, yet no one ever knew how it happened or who did it. None of your neighbors knew, turning a blind eye and moving on. Typical. Getting replacements weren’t much of a problem, not when the club paid most of the bills, but it was a constant reminder of how people saw you, and how they would treat you like any other they found to be different.

The worst of it happened when you were stuck walking home one night, all by your lonesome and of course you just happened to stumble upon a group of soldiers, sailors – whoever they were – who’d either heard about you or seen one of your shows. A quiet walk turned into a limp home, bruises adorning your body and a soreness coming from your ribs. You knew better, knew how to defend yourself and de-escalate things when the heat rose.

Unfortunately you’d been dealt the shit hand. Having been up against two, you may have had better chances, but five men that were drunk off their asses? There was no chance for you, and at that rate, it was better to cover your head and tuck while they dealt whatever repressed rage onto your body. Nearly gave you a shiner — instead delivering you a rather nasty gash through your left brow. Thankfully your body took more blows, but the soreness would just be another thing to sleep off.

After all, it was just another Friday night for you – and another one-liner for your comedy act.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Another champagne for you Mr…”

“Nah, not right now, but thank you Miss Rosey, though I think the boys in booth four might need another round. And if they are giving you any trouble–”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know if they’ll cause trouble for me!” The server gave you a mischievous smile and a wink before she made her way over to the designated booth while you were left to your lonesome in your own private booth. You’d been listening to the band play for about half an hour before you started to tune it out, the noise fading into the background as you inked paper on folded knee. You’d started writing after some time, whether it was your thoughts or not, you weren’t quite sure. The words flowed like music, maybe more, but it was hard to decipher yourself. They were just words after all, blurbs, word vomit that you needed to get out before the thoughts left you. As you were feverishly writing, line after line, you heard your name in an almost questionable fashion. The first time it seemed to be a blur in between the music, maybe just a buzzing in the back of your head.

The second time seemed to focus you back to reality, the music coming back as loud and as blaring as it was before. Your head turned up, brows furrowing as a man stood in front of the circular table that separated the half circle booth and themselves. “Sorry, I…I was a little too focused on myself, need something?” The paper on which you wrote on was slipped and closed into a small booklet that you now settled on the table. The man that called out your name was not someone you’d seen before or even met – and you were damn good with names and faces, a little quirk that always kept people on their toes.

“I was just wondering if you were the owner of said establishment, heard a bunch of people yapping about it so I came over to chat was all!” He held a hand out to you before finally introducing himself. “Name’s Viktor Sawyer, new around here.”

“I can tell,” you replied, gripping his hand before shaking it. “You don’t sound like you’re from here no way. Where’d you hightail it from kiddo?”

“Kiddo?” He laughed, “You look just as young as me, maybe younger. But me? I’m from upstate. Took a heap load of train rides, boat down the Mississippi, ended up here after an all day ride in the back of a box car after my last ticket was stolen.” The man seemed to joke at the end of his sentence, but it was all too real for how easy it was for some people to get pickpocketed. “Mind if I?...” Viktor then gestured to the booth in which you rolled your head and patted against the booth.

“Oh, I don’t mind, but the ghost might find it pretty rude if you give them an unwanted lapdance.” As you shrugged and looked at the young man, they stared back at you with confusion before a small chuckle left their lips, understanding that you were simply poking fun at the moment.

“I’m sure the ‘ghost’ wouldn’t mind it at all. Probably the most action than they’ve had in some years, yeah?” He joked right back, sending a quirky smile of your own onto your face. It'd been sometime since someone tended to match your energy, not that you were complaining.

“Champagne?” You offered up, tilting your glass towards the side. “And you can't just say you’re from upstate and expect me not to be curious. Down here, we ain't much for keeping secrets, and I ain't got no ill will towards strangers, so don't be shy.” Gesturing for one of the server girls, you two would be sharing words for the majority of the night.

Now, your club was as thriving as all get up, but there was always a drawback as it was back in the days. Only certain people could get in, people with money, people with a name. No old Sam on the street could just waltz their way in, it was almost prestigious in a way. Not like you cared much for the highlights, seeing as you came to New Orleans a simple man with ideas of starting new. Of making your name for yourself. It almost happened overnight – it did happen overnight.

It wasn’t to be expected, but it was a pleasant surprise. The thought of the blonde vampire, creature of darkness, the man who seduced you with not only words, but his entirety…he’d done so much for you. And all you did was make him laugh. A joyful, boyish, carefree laugh as if he hadn’t laughed in centuries. True laughter, pure, not from a cruel dead or joke – not to spite someone – it was simply the joy he amounted by being with you.

Beyond the past thoughts of Lestat, you indulge yourself in Viktor Sawyer, a businessman from New York. After getting a few drinks in him, he spoke about his travels and the unsavory events that came with it. He was a workaholic as much as he was an alcoholic. He was looking for work, a partnership more like but he didn’t specify what. He had been twice divorced, let slip out that he seemed to dance to a different tune – not that you minded – but three hours passed and he was drunk on booze and wine.

He was a good six foot tall man, granted, he was a handsome fellow. Piercing green eyes, slick, short blonde hair, the suit he wore looked too tight on him. At one point the two of you were laughing at nonsense yet you were still somewhat sober, having only sipped through a glass or two while Viktor had ordered something a little stronger – had enough money to pay past the bill and even laid out a grand tip for the waitress.

Which led you to where you were now, roaming the streets of the quarter with a drunk businessman on your shoulder. It wasn't a great look for you as allegations and rumors were soon to spread, but at such a late time in the night others would probably be as drunk as Viktor was. His words were slurred but it seemed he was trying to flirt with you, hand running down the side of your neck and down your chest, doing his best to fiddle with the buttons on your white dress shirt.

And with him unable to tell you where he was staying, your only other option was to either leave him to some mugger or – to be a gentleman and let him sleep off the drinks for the night under a roof.

You just wished that it didn’t have to be yours.

By the time you’d gotten through the front door, Viktor draped over your own body like he was trying to be worn, you sighed heavily. “Alright Vik, gonna get you some water, let ya rest till the morn.” You were somewhat tired, seeing as your nights and days blurred and your body always needed a good 12 hours before it could get used to your odd schedule. You watched as the businessman seemed to flop himself on the couch with a bit of your guidance as well, reaching up to try and tug you down with him, “Vik–”

“Ain’t gotta be like that sweetheart, just returning the favor!” Viktor had already stripped off whatever overcoat was on his body, his breath reeking of alcohol as it wafted against your face. It caused you to inwardly cringe at the smell, but you knew the man was drunk off his ass. You weren’t much in the mood either, not like you’d seen much action in some time. But the man was intoxicated as hell and you weren’t interested. He leaned in close, trying to hold your face before you snatched yourself away.

“Viktor, come on buddy. I can’t do this, believe me. You’re a…nice guy and all but uh…”

“Oh baby please, you were lookin’ at me like I was a damn meal back at the club. Don’t tell me ya’ kept me laughing just for kicks?” He slurred, leaning in once more and almost placing his entire body weight onto you. Is that what he thought? That you wanted to get him into bed, even though it simply seemed like you two were just having a good time as newly acquainted friends. “Come on babes, you know how to have a fun time, right?”

Your eyes rolled as you helped Viktor onto his feet once more, watching as he stumbled to try and finger your shirt off. Even as you led him into your room and pushed him onto the bed, he sat back with a cocky grin upon his face. “Nuff with the nicknames ‘Slick’. Imma get you some water, now lay ya’ ass down. I brought you here because you could barely tell me where you were stay’n. Now, cool down before I do what my ma would do and beat the sense out and back into ya’.”

It was only then that when you turned around to walk away, your arm was grabbed and suddenly you were pulled into his lap. Yes, you could handle yourself against the man, not afraid of him at the least. You’d dealt with much scarier than a horny, boozed up businessman.

Scoffing, you felt his sloppy movements of his arm wrapping around your waist and a hand at the front of your throat. No wonder he was twice divorced with such a limp wrist on him. You didn’t care about how he seemed to whisper in your ear or try to kiss against your neck. It only made you retract, snatching yourself away again before hearing Viktor almost whine out. “Baby–”

“I ain’t ya’ baby, Viktor,” you stated plainly, back towards the man before continuing. “And don’t make me regret doing the right thing.”

“Taking me home?”

“Taking you in rather than leave’n you out of the street!” It was then that you felt Viktor cop a feel, in which case something in you turned. You whipped around, quick movements before your hands pinned Viktors against the bed, staring him down as you hovered over his body, straddling his waist as you kept him from moving or trying to make another move on you. Staring him down, you did your best to show some sort of intimidation, but the sudden actions seemed to spur the drunkard on, biting his bottom lip in amusement.

“Got no problem with you being on top either, I can play that game with you!”

You groaned out in annoyance, feeling the mans’ growing arousal as he tried to roll his hips up into yours. “Tired of your shit Viktor, get it together.” Pushing him back onto the bed with no sympathy for his drunken stupor you made your way out of the room, leaving the man to call your name as he sprawled upon the bed. You could hear him calling as you slipped into the kitchen and instead of fixing him anything to help him sober up, you splashed your own face. When did you get so strict, so antsy? You hadn’t had a night to yourself in some time. And for someone to be in your bed, to want to indulge in filthy pleasure, who were you to deny him? He was good looking, but drunk off his ass. And from the sounds of it, he wanted to be the one to lay you out for the night. You definitely weren’t interested.

Couldn’t seem to figure out if something was wrong with you at the time. Not to say you weren’t flattered by the other advances, before and after he was sloshed, but you felt nothing in retaliation. You simply had a good laugh, a few drinks, you hadn’t meant to charm him or give off that you wanted to sleep with him. Or did you? Lonely nights in an empty bed, an empty home no less. You weren’t the least bit interested in the whorehouse, not as if you didn’t care for the ladies themselves – calling you sweetheart and whatnot – but it wasn’t your current taste.

Splashing water onto your face, you calmed your racing thoughts down. Maybe one night wouldn’t hurt. Maybe something like this would help your mood from the normal drag. You were afraid you’d end up all mugfaced and mopey like Louis if you didn’t have time to truly enjoy yourself without it being a job or forcing yourself to do so. As water dripped down your face, your thoughts were split between “what would change in one night,” and “I don’t even like him like that! I’ll just sleep it off on the couch”.

Your mind seemed to go quiet just as Viktors calls for you went silent. Only then did you thank the higher powers that he finally passed out or gave up on his attempts to get you back there. Stripping off your own overcoat and walking back into the main room of your home, you dropped said cloth on the floor only to stand there frozen, stiff as a board once your head moved to look up rather than at your feet.

“Lestat?”

Your lungs seemed to lose air as you stared at him, confused as much as you were shocked. You questioned yourself, not knowing if you made him up in your fit of loneliness or if he was actually there, in the dim lighting of the room. He stood there, at the bottom of the steps that lead to your room but also against the wall that was directly across from the doorway of the kitchen.

That flawless face, chiseled jaw, god given face, wavy blonde hair you ran your fingers through more times than you could remember, his broad yet sculpturesque physic, those blue pools you’d get lost in no matter the time of day – it was him. In all his glory. It was only then that you finally came to your senses and realized that there was red dripping from his hands, not only coating his fingers, but it was dragged over his mouth – smeared – and slung across his shirt like a work of art. There was an almost unreadable look in his grey-blue hues, ones that could and did challenge the most beautiful of days, shaming the sky in comparison.

He didn’t move, almost like a statue, but with – what you could only assume was blood – slowly dripping down his fingers and onto the floor, it reminded you that you were not frozen in time. That he was there in all his glory, missing his normal presten overcoat that would go beautifully with whatever suit or undershirt he chose to wear, his blonde wavy hair let down, a bit unkempt compared to how neat and groomed he normally kept himself, but his body was still as water, as unmoving as a statue.

Almost.

You could barely tell if he was breathing, the stillness of his body startling you as you trekked carefully but moved in closer to him. It was only then when you inched towards the vampire did you notice the small trembles, the minute quivering of his hands that slowly clenched into bloody fist, nails digging into his palms. His chest rose and expanded as he took a breath in through his nose, jaw tightening as he stared you down. A sliver of fear seemed to jump up your spine at the subtle movement, but it didn’t stop you from slowly closing in. You were a mere stride away from standing directly in front of him, but before you could call out his name again, like a ticking time bomb – he exploded.

“You fool!” He roared out, causing you to nearly stumble back onto your ass. There was a look of anger written all over his face that was once completely unreadable. “You! You are pathetic! Ungrateful! Rien qu'une plaisanterie vivante, affamée d'amour et d'attention!” A loud crash could be heard as he used his strength to knock over a display, the power behind his hand flinging the rather sturdy and wooden case into the wall across the room as it caught air. Wood chips splintered every which way, glass shattering and sprinkling onto the floor. Your eyes flicked from the damage to the man who stood before you, chest now heaving as he started spewing curses in his french tongue and pointing at you.

You could barely understand him, though a few curses here and there from what he taught you, but you were more confused than scared at the moment. Fear was in the back of your mind, not as present as the sudden concern. “Les! What are you on about?”

“Espèce d'idiot! Espèce d'idiot de campagne, de petit ver de terre! Do not play dumb with me!” Lestat proceeded to call you out by your name as he spewed what you could only depict as insults.

Suddenly he started laughing.

His seemingly harmless chuckles escalated into full blood cackles, the man laughing harder and harder till it seemed almost hysterical. His pupils were dilated, fangs bared with blood dripping slowly down his chin, and his hand shaking as he continued to spew fire in your direction. “You think that you can replace me? De copier quelque chose qui ne peut pas être remplacé! Do you know who I am chéri?” Lestat questioned, almost softly before his tone roared out once again. “Do you know what I am!?”

“Lestat, what happened? You come in here all covered in blood after being away for this long, yelling at me?”

The vampire could not hear you, not over his constant ranting and yelling and french tongue that seemed to go on, venom seeming to be laced in every consonant and syllable. “After everything that I have given you! Comme mon cœur bat pour toi! Et pourtant tu essaies de faire en sorte qu'un salaud blond essaie d'être moi?! HA! Your funniest attempt at a joke yet! To stoop so low!”

“Les…” You were now more concerned than ever, watching as he stared pacing as if to restrain himself at the moment, his nails having swiped at the wall, ripping up the wallpaper and digging into the bricks that were settled underneath, carving into the harsh material while his hand remained unscathed.

“You are just like any other! Pitoyable! L'excuse la plus triste pour un homme! Rien qu'un chien qui a soif et aboie pour en savoir plus! Tellement impatient que vous ayez essayé de trouver quelque chose dont il n'y en a qu'un!” Lestat cackled as he seemed to move back and forth, looking towards you with a predatory gaze before looking at the floor, shaking his head and almost growling. Restraining himself.

“Les!” You tried again to call out for him, but he did not waver.

“Humans, you are all the same…! You are all ungrateful, insatiable pests! Meat for the slaughter and lambs for wolves! Je devrais vous vider et regarder la vie pitoyable que je vous ai fournie clignoter brièvement dans votre cerveau idiot..what was I thinking! You! You?!” He pointed at you once again, the manic grin never leaving his face. “J'ai eu pitié d'un chien qui n'a aucune loyauté!”

“Lestat! Calm–”

“Good for nothing! A dull piece of entertainment! A clown above all clowns! Une pitoyable excuse de fils! No wonder your kin left you high and dry!”

“Lestat!–”

“Une pitoyable excuse pour un humain! Who would ever want you anyways! Laper goulûment ce qui reste d'une bonne chose! An ungrateful mutt!” His voice came out raw, almost hurt as he overwhelmed your own voice, giving you no space to speak.

“Les–”

“N'étais-je pas assez bien pour toi?! Je ne te suffisais pas! Too boring for the great comedian you came to be?! Est-ce pour cela que vous avez choisi de vous coucher avec une excuse pathétique pour un remplacement!?”

“Le–”

“Je ne suis pas assez bien pour toi!? Assez bon pour garder seul votre amour seul?! Is that too much to ask for!?”

“LESTAT!”

Your voice seemed to boom with sudden authority, your hands finding his wrist before pushing his body back into the wall, practically sandwiching him between that and your own body. The room that was once filled with the rampant yelling and swears of French from Lestat and your desperate attempts to call out for him were now silenced. It was now only the pants between the both of you as his was from his outburst, you, from the sudden burst of adrenaline that seemed to flow through your veins. The two of you stared each other down, getting lost in one another's gaze.

Lestat had never heard you so demanding, never having raised your voice in such a way, not even in a playful manner towards him. You’d never been rough with him, and even in bed he would have to coax you to handle him with something other than tenderness in the mix. Your grip on his wrist was enough to bruise any other human, but the strength you’d projected was enough to stun the vampire out of pure shock.

The once tense and chaotic air calmed as the two of you stood in silence, you waiting for him to calm down and get he was waiting on you to yell at him, attempt to hit him, hurt him for the destruction and his outburst. His temper was unruly, unpredictable like the weather sometimes, but he'd never flared up in front of you in such a way.

But instead of harsh words or screams back in his face after all he said and done – most you could barely understand – you'd slowly shifted your hands. Moving from holding his wrist, up his arms and shoulders and to his face, cupping it gently, while the same concerned look lingered in your loving gaze. “Les…speak to me. Here I was, worried sick about you for weeks on end, and now you come here? Covered in blood and yellin who knows what?”

You did not scold him or respond with hatred. You spoke in a soft tone he almost didn’t recognize, as if trying to coax a scared and wounded animal.

He didn't respond, instead staring at you with mild confusion. Why were you treating him so kindly, even as he looked and acted as if he was two seconds away from ripping your throat out and tearing apart your innards.

Lestats' form looked disheveled, his blood coated dress shirt now somewhat torn, the collar ripped and stretched down, exposing the skin on his right shoulder and arm as the cloth dangled pitifully. A mess he was and yet you held him so gently, spoke to him so kindly, so sickeningly sweet in his eyes.

Your foreheads touched as you leaned in, noses brushing as you claimed his attention yet again, seeing the dazed expression, almost as if he couldn't believe what was happening. You knew the blood on him was from upstairs, that your guest was most likely dead from the bloody footsteps that lead down the main room.

Suddenly his lips lifted in a snarl. “You smell of him, that drunkard—”

“I helped him for the night. Was bein’ kind and all. We had a drink, but I didn't feel anything for him Les.” It was your turn to interrupt him, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as blood stuck to your own palms. You could tell that he was angry, possessive even, but you'd never seen it to this existent. Only then, after holding him for so long did you realize his face was ice cold, blood on his mouth but his body void of warmth.

“Did you not feed on him Les? You're colder than a bare ass in winter.”

Even that seemed to keep him shocked, how you noticed the little things, that the warmth of fresh blood did not flow through him. Only you would pick up such minute details at that moment, only you paid him that much attention. “I cared not for his putrid blood.” He muttered, your gaze holding his own as he wished to look away. He wasn't embarrassed, but it seemed as if he was almost flustered, confused even as his brows pinched.

“You haven't changed much. Still the magnificent…unpredictable Lestat.” You knew now why his anger flared up, the sudden appearance and unprecedented feelings. He didn't like the idea of someone else in your bed, someone who seemed to resemble him – even though you didn't see the two looking any more similar than a black and a white horse. “Lovely, I wasn't gonna lay with him if that's what ya’ think. He wasn't my type anyways,” you attempted to laugh, though it came out as more of a sad half winded chuckle.

“I apparently only have space in my heart for the man who always laughs at my jokes…no matter how bad they are.” Your own gaze lingered towards his stained lips before glancing back up. “For the French man who came to me at the bar, listening to me yap up a storm. Who lied with me in the field and gave me hope for a future…one I thought I would never be worthy of, just as I feel unworthy of the love that man gives me and shows…" As corny as you normally were, this was something you wanted the vampire to understand. That as a human, fragile being that could be killed by his hands, you still loved him. Even now. Even as you tried to forget about him, to think of him as nothing but a dream for as long as he was gone, your heart yearned for him dearly.

As those last words tumbled from your mouth, your lips crashed into each other. It would be humorous to say that sparks flew, but there was a sudden fire that seemed to flare inside of you. It was bound to the both of you, the further in you two got, the hotter and brighter that flame got until it was a raging inferno. The kiss went from being one of longing to a much sloppier, needy entanglement. The metallic taste didn’t bother you, barely phasing you. Your hands went from cradling his face to holding him, threading through his hair and one lowering to his waist to keep his body close. In retaliation, Lestat held your own face, the sticky blood smearing onto the side of his face. You didn’t dare pull away as you felt the nips at your bottom lip, his tongue wrestling with your as your lungs were slowly deprived of oxygen. You mumbled his name against his lips, subtly pulling away to find air, but Lestat refused to let you. He almost let out a possessive growl that rumbled in his chest, almost unnoticeably as he didn’t need air and wanted to soak you up in every way, shape, and form.

By the time you’d been let go, he barely let you move away, foreheads touching yet again as your lungs did their best to regain what was lost. You were panting and lightheaded, a thin string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his, swept away with his tongue. There were no words shared at that moment, lost in each other's loving gazes as your hearts were racing, thundering like wild horses and unruly storms. There was a twister of emotions swirling within the both of you, and yet you simply couldn’t put them into words.

Your lips pressed against his briefly, only to start peppering kisses onto his skin. Against the side of his lips and down his jaw, against his bloody throat, down to his collar and shoulder. You left a trail, admiring him, pampering him, spoiling him with your love and adoration like you normally did. Something you never strayed from. Your kisses kept, from his shoulder down his exposed arm, all the way down to his blooded knuckles in which you pressed your lips to as if he was royalty. “Les,” you muttered against his hand, watching as he seemed to shudder.

The look in your eyes had shifted to something more, a desire, a hunger. He could feel your sudden desire, blazing like the fire that roared within you.

You both wanted each other, needed each other.

Bad.

“Lestat–” The vampire in question hushed you with his finger, tilting you chin before pressing a kiss against your lips yet again. When he pulled away, he practically purred out.

“One moment mon chéri..” His voice was barely above a whisper as you chased after his lips, whining as he slipped away from your hold and moved up the stairs. When he was suddenly out of sight, you were left standing alone and wishing for him to come back in your arms, but you would be patient, just one last time. But now that you were here, you were like an excited puppy who’d just been told to sit.

“Course he done got me all riled up, then just…” You gestured towards the stairs as you spoke to yourself, sighing and wiping the blood away from your mouth with the back of your hand. You could only imagine the mess in the room if Lestat had dealt with Viktor. The amount of blood and the fact that he didn’t drink from him was rare, to say he had a distaste for someone's blood when you knew he fed upon others and sapped their life away as easy as a snap of your fingers. And yet he was careful every time he drank from you. Tender, making sure you didn’t pass out or lose consciousness, listening to your heart rate and showing much restraint to not be as greedy as he wanted with you.

Even he knew that if you egged him on, it would be that much harder to contain himself. Fortunately you didn’t have to wait long before your name was called, which caused you to scurry up the stairs so fast that you almost face planted by the time you got to the top, grabbing onto the railing before turning into your room.

It wasn’t as bad as you first thought, the bed looked perfectly fine beside the covers being pulled here and there, but you could see the blood seeping through the carpet on the opposite side of the bed. It was only then that you heard a small whistle, looking over towards the side where the bathroom was. Lestat stood in the doorway, shirtless, the blood on his face and down his neck having been rinsed and wiped off, beside the obvious smudges still left on his skin. Though there was one thing that stood out rather boldly against his skin.

Perfectly painted onto his lips was a rather glossy – oily even – rich scarlet color that popped in comparison to his pale skin.

Not blood.

No.

Lipstick.

He chuckled as he watched your head tilt to the side rather curiously, thankful that he couldn’t feel the heat that traveled to your face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you mon chéri,” Lestat started as he slowly made his way over to you, almost as if he was prowling. Before you knew it, he’d pushed you back onto the bed, straddling your lap with your face now in his hands. You melted at the feeling, almost as touch starved as he was for you. Your hands now placed on his own waist you pulled him closer, both of your bodies buzzing with a newfound arousal.

Lestat leaned closer to your face once more, head tilting as he captured your lips once more. A hum escaped you as you could taste him yet again, letting out an audible groan as your groins rolled into one another. You wanted him badly. You were smitten with the man, his voice, his touch, the need to have him in your arms and in your bed, it was a greed you wanted to give into.

Another whine left you as his lips left your own, moving to kiss the corner of your mouth and then your cheek. Your jaw was next, his lips pressing against every inch or your jawline and even underneath. He’d kissed down your throat as you tilted your head up, exposing more of yourself to him as he continued his path. Lestat had to stop himself from wanting to prick your throat. He could hear the blood just below your skin, feeling the heat it gave off as it ran, how good it would taste after straying away for so long.

You couldn’t control the moan that left your lips as he showered your throat in almost endless kisses, down your collar and against the crooks of your neck. By the time he’d finished and met with your dazed face again, he seemed very proud of his work.

As your half lidded eyes glanced down at Lestats face, you could see him practically glowing, as radiant as ever, even with the smudged lipstick on his lips.

Though it was your appearance that seemed to get him even more eager to take what was his.

In a flash, you two were on each other, magnetized as your hands groped and felt against one another. Clothes were ripped off, shredded, torn, thrown in this direction and another, but neither of you cared for the mess. You only cared for each other, like you were the only two left in the world. Rolling around on the bed, you ended up locking your arms under Lestat, keeping him in place as you leaned down and assaulted his throat, marking him up the best you could.

You knew he liked it rough, but it was hard to do so when you practically worshiped him. It wasn’t an act, did. But you missed him like the stars and the moon and you wanted him to know that deep down. That you loved him, whether he reciprocated or not. You wanted to be selfish, keep him in your arms forever. And as selfish as it was for you, you only hoped that he wanted the same, even as you were weaker than the vampire himself.

The guttural noises left Lestat as you bit down near the crook of his neck, hands slipping down to his bare thighs as it hooked onto your hips. His head was thrown back into the pillow that rested under his head, blonde hair sprawled out behind his head as he called your name once more, feeling as needy as ever. “Don’t tease me mon chéri, I’ve been too long without you…”

Grunting out, you felt his fingers against the back of your head as you proceeded to leave marks against his throat, hickies and dark bruises, but not deep enough to break or to draw blood like you wished. When you pulled away to look at your work, his hand caressed the side of your face and he watched as you leaned into the feeling pressing your lips against the side of his palm before looking down at him with a sense of yearning. A longing that’s been stirring inside you since the first week you missed him.

“Normally you are the chatterbox instead mon garçon de la campagne. Why the sudden silence?” Even after the intrusion, outburst and overall assault that happened not too long ago, he enjoyed your voice. How you praised him and cared for him so. It was unorthodox that you weren’t speaking, even now. Not to say that he didn’t like your brutish noises as you indulged yourself, but it was one of the qualities that made him attracted to you.

It wasn’t until that statement did you look Lestat dead in the eyes and spoke. “Doll face, I love you to the ends of the world and back, but right now I just want to hear you scream my name.” That seemed to stun the blonde once again. “And I got better uses for ma’ mouth right now. Not enough time to talk.” Your voice shifted towards a lower town as you dipped down to assault Lestat's chest, one of your favorite places to spoil.

As the vampire's voice rang within the room, his back arching off the bed as you did your best to mark up his chest in bite marks of all sorts. You found great joy in seeing his body react in such a way as your mouth enveloped one of his nipples, tracing your tongue around the sensitive nub before using the edge of your teeth to tug, his body pressing up against yours and nearly lifting off the bed itself.

But Lestat wanted more. He’d been away for too long and was tired of the foreplay. “I…I am not a virgin,” he panted out. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Let me treat ya’ like it anyways baby doll…”

And as his eyes rolled to the back of head, your mouth loved on and against every part of his body, your fingers finding spots that made his body curl and mewl in weakness as he wanted more. The slow and tender you fed him lit his entire body up in the best way imaginable, his voice loud enough for anyone in the quarter to hear.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Your back ached as you sat up from the bed, the stinging sensation of Lestat’s nails running down skin lingered even hours after wearing him down the best you could. The beauty in question rested right beside you, curled up in the sheet and his head nuzzled up against your side.

You knew that he wasn’t asleep, but simply closed his eyes to briefly rest. He’d have to return home soon, to rest inside his coffin and to dispose of the body that was unfortunately still slumped against the side of the bed. In the heat of things, you barely cared that there was a dead person mere feet away from you as Lestat was the only thing in your mind through the night. As you made your way off the bed and into the bathroom, your lower waist was just as roughed up from the rather crushing gripped Lestat had with his legs clinging onto you with such force.

You could barely remember how many times you made him cum that night, but it was enough that your own hips were starting to bruise. His voice calling out your own was like a symphony of its own, causing a cheeky smile to appear on your lips. By the time you’d gotten into the bathroom and stepped in front of the mirror, you were shocked. On not only your lips but splayed all over your cheek, neck, and even covering the majority of your collarbone was lipstick stains from Lestat.

It hadn’t registered back then how much he’d done, but now it was clear as day, he marked you. You could remember him muttering how he would erase any trace of that drunk businessman, especially if there were any traces of him on you. Your neck itself was sensitive as all getup, especially after Lestat fed off you that night. No wonder you felt light headed and weak on your feet. “God, I hope this can wash off,” you muttered to yourself, though you weren’t opposed to the idea of Lestat doing this more often.

“I doubt it will…” Lestat stepped in behind you in all his nude glory before hugging against your waist and placing his chin against your shoulder. “And if it does…I’ll do much worse than this.” A grin appeared on his face as his looked at you through the mirror, watching as you replicated the same grin. For the moment, the two of you stayed there, swaying in one another arms before the vampire spoke up. “I..I am cursed with my maker's temper…I meant no harm. I saw that man in your bed when I came to surprise you and–”

“No need for an apology Les…I missed you too.” Turning your head, you kissed against his hair before sighing. “You were gone for so long..thought you’d up and left. Wasn’t gonna bother you no way if you didn’t wanna see me.”

Lestat stared at you in silence for the longest before shifting his gaze elsewhere. “I have a good reason for why I was gone. I did not merely abandon you…but there is someone I have to speak with you about.”

“Who?” There was only one other person that you could think of at the top of your head, especially with the series of events that had happened in the past.

“Louis…”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a/n : who let me cook?? Anyways, thank you for reading so far! Replies and repost are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

please do not repost my work on other sites! thank you! - @that-one-malereader-enthusiast

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koreluvsspring · 17 days ago

Text

LET'S SNEAK, AOT MULTI

sum. various aot boys and how they fuck you while trying to keep your relationship a secret. inspired by lyrics from sneak by leon thomas :p

feat. eren jaeger. jean kirstein. connie springer. armin arlert.

cw. cheating/infidelity, missionary & doggy, face-sitting, a nasty blowjob, praise, riding/cowgirl, creampie, office sex, risky sex, hold the moan, reader has multiple orgasms, some angst if you squint, not proofread...

wc. 2.7k

EREN JAEGER “can i fuck you in the daytime, daytime? even though that pussy isn’t mine.”

Eren’s moral compass is a bit skewed.

But you wouldn’t dare tell him that. He’d only throw it right back in your face, claiming you're worse. You’re the one with a boyfriend after all. He’s single. Technically.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” Eren asks as soon as he crosses the threshold into your home. He doesn’t bother waiting for a response before pulling his shirt off.

You close the front door behind you and sigh. “He’s out of town. Look…” You hesitate, not really wanting to finish your sentence, even though you know it’s long overdue.

Eren turns to look at you, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you’ve grown a conscience.” He doesn’t sound annoyed, or even surprised. More like…intrigued. Regardless, the words make you wince.

“He wants to take me to meet his parents,” you tell him, avoiding eye contact.

Eren lets out a whistle. There’s a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts, before you hear the sound of Eren unzipping his pants.

You stare at him. “What are you doing?”

He smirks. “I’m already here. Might as well go out with a bang.”

You don’t bother wasting any time pretending you weren’t hoping he’d say that. You strip, and almost immediately you’re pressed against a wall. Eren kisses you in a way that can only be described as needy, like he’s taking extra and stowing it away for later.

His hands are everywhere, squeezing and caressing and memorizing.

When he lays you down on the sofa, you aren’t expecting him to plant his tongue between your thighs.

“Eren–”

“Shhh,” he whispers, lifting his head to meet your eyes. “This is the last time, right?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “Let me savor it.”

He makes surprisingly quick work of making you come and kisses you right after so you can taste yourself on his lips. When he fucks you he does it slowly, agonizingly, eyes glued to your face as he watches your lips part when he bottoms out.

Your nails dig into his back. “Eren, don’t tease,” you huff. “Faster.”

He smiles down at you, shaking his head slightly. “You’re so impatient,” he says, clicking his tongue. “What happened to letting me savor it?”

You squirm beneath him. “Fuck savoring. Fuck me.”

Eren doesn’t need to hear you say it twice. He picks up the pace, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as he grabs your waist.

“Gonna miss this pussy,” he breathes against your skin. The way he says it is tender, a stark contrast to the rough way he pounds you. You wonder, just for a second, if he really means that he’s going to miss you.

But Eren can see your mind wandering. He taps your cheek.

“Hey. Pay attention. You haven’t come enough times to start losing your mind already.”

His eyes narrow as he takes in the sourness of your expression, unimpressed by his statement.

He huffs and pulls out. “Turn around.”

“What?”

“Turn around and get on all fours.”

You frown but comply. He rests one hand flat against your back, pushing you down into the perfect arch before he prods your slit with the tip of his cock.

“Gonna make you see stars,” he mutters, before burying himself inside you.

And he does. His rhythm is dizzying, and it has you biting into the couch cushions, groaning with every stroke.

His arm wraps around your hips so he can lay his hand flat on your lower belly. When he travels lower and starts to circle your clit, all the muscles in your core tighten. He doesn’t slow down when you reach your climax. In fact, you think he goes faster.

“Fuck, Erennn,” you whine, dragging out the last consonant of his name as you dig your fingernails into your palm.

“I know, I know. Takin’ me so well. One more.”

You try to remember what he’d always say, something about good girls coming in threes, or maybe third time’s the charm. Something that meant he’d always make you come three times before leaving. It’s hard to think of what it was when you can hear him slamming against your ass.

He draws out the third one in no time, calling you his good girl as you moan into the sofa.

It’s bittersweet when he pulls out, and you wish he would make you come in fives or something. Eren gives you a look that tells you he can tell what you’re thinking.

He presses his lips to your forehead as he pulls his pants on and you can sense the goodbye in it.

“Take care of yourself, mkay? I’ll see you around.”

You watch him leave, wondering if you’ll see him for real.

JEAN KIRSTEIN “know you wanna keep this thing discreet. hear you calling through the streets.”

You’ve molded Jean into the perfect fuck buddy.

He’ll drop everything to come over the minute you text, doesn’t spread your business around, and always makes you come first.

“Right there, right there, fuck.” You grind against his face, throwing your head back as your grip around the headboard tightens.

Jean hums into your pussy as you orgasm, grazing his teeth against your clit as you ride it out.

Your body goes limp and he swiftly comes out from underneath you, laying you down on the bed gently as he peppers kisses across your skin.

“I’m gonna grab you some water,” he says, not waiting for a response before leaving your room.

You watch him go, a small smile sitting on your face. He’s become so attuned to you, always at your beck and call, willing to cater to you in any way you ask.

It’s the kind of behavior that makes you want to suck his dick.

So, when he returns from the kitchen holding a glass of ice water, you ask him.

“Do you wanna throat fuck me?”

Jean freezes, staring at you like you’ve grown a second head. You suppose you have—it’s been nine months since the two of you started fucking and you have yet to go down on him (not that he’s ever complained). Still, you’d be offended at the look he’s giving you if it weren’t for the obvious erection growing in his pants.

You tilt your head to the side, eyeing his crotch before meeting his gaze. “Yes or no?”

“Yes,” he answers quickly, suddenly unfrozen and eager. He places the glass on your dresser, slipping out of his sweatpants and moving towards you.

Jean watches you roll off the bed and onto the floor, sitting up on your knees and looking at him with an expression that almost makes him dizzy.

Something feverish blazes in his eyes when he stands in front of you, and you have to work to keep the excitement off your face when he tugs down his boxers.

He strokes his cock idly, watching you look up at him. “You sure?”

This time you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face. “I’m sure.”

He taps his dick on your lips, tentatively, and you open up. He shudders when you run your tongue along the underside of his tip.

Jean cradles your head in his hands as he pushes himself all the way into your mouth. There’s a shaky inhale from him when he hits the back of your throat.

“Oh shit,” he breathes.

You close your lips around him, hollowing out your cheeks, and something in him snaps.

The speed at which he thrusts into your mouth is almost violent, and he moans when you gag, the pads of his fingertips pressing harder into your scalp. He’s already sensitive from being rock hard the whole time you sat on his face, and his sloppy in-and-out, in-and-out motion drags your spit everywhere–your face, his pelvis, even your chest.

The feeling of him hitting your throat makes your eyes water, and you feel him growing impossibly harder against your tongue when you look up at him with glassy eyes.

He doesn’t last long, not with you looking at him like that. He’s mumbling an apology as he fills your mouth, saying if you weren’t so perfect he would’ve lasted longer. You’re grinning as you swallow down his cum, watching how his eyebrows furrow as he looks at your neck, and he kneels down to kiss you immediately.

When he pulls away, he’s looking at you with a soft sort of wonder. Admiration almost. A bashful smile pulls at his lips.

“Can we do that again?”

CONNIE SPRINGER “she like rich niggas, i’m her type. bored at the crib, she tryna pipe.”

conniiieee come over, im bored ;)

Connie smiles to himself when he reads your texts, his dick nearly stirring to life at the implication of your messages.

Despite your agreement to keep your… situation lowkey, he always pulls up to your apartment complex on his motorcycle, practically alerting the masses that he’s about to come upstairs and rock your shit.

You meet him at your front door, scowling. “Why do you always show up on that loud ass bike? I know you have a car now.”

Connie just smiles, scooting around you to come inside. “You keeping tabs on me, baby?”

You roll your eyes and kick the door shut. “Sasha won’t stop raving about how cool it is.” You do air quotes around the word ‘cool,’ trying to imitate the lilt in Sasha’s voice when she talks about it.

Connie drops his motorcycle helmet on the shoe rack by the door. “It is cool. If you’d stop being so stubborn and take me back I could take you for a ride.”

But there’s really only one kind of ride you’re interested in right now! Which is how you end up straddling him on the couch, pressing kisses into the side of his neck.

Connie’s hands rest loosely on your hips, letting you grind against him as slowly as you want. Your breathing is shaky, sweat coating your skin, a byproduct of the last four orgasms. You lift yourself off him on trembling legs, higher and higher until just the head of Connie’s cock remains inside you. You catch his eyes briefly, and the mirth swimming in them is the only warning you have for what he does next.

His fingers tighten their grip on your hips, tugging you back down on his cock harshly. A strangled sound escapes you, air catching in your throat with the sudden movement.

“Con-”

He kisses you, cutting you off as he bounces you up and down.

“Last one, mama,” he says against your lips.

You can feel an ache in your legs from them being bent underneath you for so long, your head is fogged up with leftover pleasure, and there’s a pressure building up deep in your stomach. This is why you keep letting him come over all these months after your breakup. He knows just how to wear you out.

Connie pulls you against him, chest to chest, and wraps his arms around you. He lets you rest your forehead against his as his cock brushes up against your g-spot, forcing moans out of you that can only be described as wanton.

“That’s it, baby. Nobody fucks you like this, huh?”

You shake your head, your nose nudging his. “Just you.”

Connie practically purrs in satisfaction, right before he comes inside you. You melt against him, the pressure in your abdomen releasing as you cry out. Connie’s lips sweep across your jaw, patient and gentle while he waits for you to come down.

When you do, he leans back, eyelids heavy with contentment. You can feel him softening inside you. You already know what he’s about to say just based on the expression he’s wearing, but you wait for him to ask before giving the same response you always do.

“Y’know we could do that all the time if you’d take me back.” He doesn’t sound as heartbroken as he used to, like he’s grown used to this back-and-forth the two of you have going on.

You give him a wry smile, wiping beads from the back of your neck. “We didn’t break up because the sex was bad, Connie.”

He kisses you then, soft and lingering. “Worth a shot.”

He cleans you up and you let him take a shower and rummage through your drawers for the few pieces of clothing you never returned to him. When he’s leaving, he throws a wink your way, picking up his motorcycle helmet with one hand and unlocking the door with the other.

"Text again soon, alright? Love you."

ARMIN ARLERT “always down for an afternoon delight, but i can never crash and spend the night.”

“We have to stop,” you whisper halfheartedly, tangling your fingers in Armin’s hair as he kisses you.

Armin smiles against your lips. “Why?” he asks, his hands traveling down the length of your pencil skirt. He starts kissing down your neck, mouth going lower and lower until his fingers reach the hem of your skirt.

He pulls your skirt up over your ass, letting it bunch up around your waist. You giggle when he turns you around and gently presses your cheek against the door.

“I’ll get fired if HR finds out,” you say, arching your back as he pulls down your underwear. Your wet cunt feels a rush of cool air when he does, and you gasp when Armin plunges his fingers in. You feel the weight of his chin on your shoulder as he presses his chest against your back.

“But she’s so wet,” he whispers in your ear. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like that HR could find out.”

You neither confirm nor deny, just humming and wiggling your bare ass in response.

He chuckles, the sound traveling straight down to your core. Armin doesn’t give any warning before he slips himself inside you. He pulls you away from the door after the fact, covering your mouth with one hand and wrapping the other arm around your waist.

The hardest thing (other than Armin) about keeping your lunch “meetings” secret is the fact that neither of you are particularly quiet. Armin muffles your moans with his hand and muffles his own by biting into the junction of your neck and your shoulder. There’s nothing to be done about the sound of his hips slapping against your ass or his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. All the two of you can do is hope nobody comes back from lunch early and walks past the copy room on the fourth floor.

(But anyways, where’s the fun in it without a little risk.)

You moan into Armin’s hand when he hits a particular spot and he slows. He uses the hand on your face to tug your head back. “So noisy,” he says, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “I know you want the whole office to hear, but don’t be so obvious.”

Your walls clench around him and he hisses, picking up the pace once more.

“You like thinking about our coworkers hearing you?” You shake your head, but the way your pussy squeezes him proves you to be a bold-faced liar.

Armin’s teeth graze your shoulder, his breath hitching as his hips lose their rhythm.

“Go ahead then,” he whispers against your skin. “Let them hear.” He moves his hand from your mouth and loosely wraps his fingers around your neck instead.

Another moan threatens to escape you, but you refuse, rolling your lips between your teeth in an attempt to keep quiet.

Armin bites you then, and you gasp loudly. His thrusts become careless as he frantically chases his own orgasm. He brings his hand back up to your face, this time slipping two fingers between your lips and pressing down on your teeth so you can’t close your mouth.

You can hear the faint sound of footsteps that signal the end of your lunch break. A door opens, and voices become audible as your coworkers get closer.

Armin smacks your ass, hard, and it’s enough to pull you over the edge. The two of you come together, him sinking his teeth into your skin to suppress his own moans. You bite down on his fingers, but it does little to help. You’re positive the entire office can hear you screaming his name.

(づ๑•ᴗ•๑)づ♡

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koreluvsspring · 18 days ago

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ménage à trois.

pairing ; lestat de lioncourt x vampire!gn!reader x louis de pointe du lac

synopsis ; “you turned him,” you said to lestat with a disapproving frown. louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “you were always the selfish one, weren’t you? i could never have anything for myself.”

words ; 3.8k

themes ; angst, a bit of fluff, vampires, polyamory

warnings / includes ; super toxic throuple dynamics, blood/murder, covers the first two episodes of iwtv, reader is a writer, louis is infatuated <3 and lestat is well... lestat...

there will be a second part (claudia incoming)!

You met Lestat de Lioncourt in 1780—six years after he was turned, and three years after you. It was a wild and tumultuous affair the two of you shared. You and Lestat clashed just as much as you molded together. While he was possessive and greedy, you longed for freedom and space. Eventually, after many bloody rows, the two of you parted ways with reluctant, half-sincere promises of a distant reunion.

Louis de Pointe du Lac was yours before he was Lestat’s, as he oft forgot. By 1908, you were a regular patron of his establishment in New Orleans—though less for the sex and more for the stories. The women there were immeasurably fascinating. With enough liquor and sweet talking, they would answer each and every burning question you had. When Louis caught wind of one of his customers bringing pencils and parchment of all things to the bedrooms, he’d confronted you about it, curious as to what you were doing to the working girls—especially when they always came out flush-faced and giggling.

“I’m a writer,” you told him with a sweet smile. Close-lipped, hiding your fangs. “I hope you don’t mind. The women here have lovely tales to tell.”

Louis returned the grin after a second to overcome his surprise. “I’m sure they do. Why here, though?”

“Your establishment has the highest rates of colored women. Not many are willing to listen to what they have to say.” You fiddled with the buttons on your jacket, and tipped your head down into a nod. “I’d best be leaving. The night is late, and the sun will greet us soon.”

“Not a morning person?” Louis asked, falling into step with you as you made your way to your convertible.

A huff of a laugh fell past your lips. “You could say that, yes.”

From then on, Louis went out of his way to greet you like clockwork. Every Wednesday and Saturday you came, bright-eyed and pencil ready. Those days, Louis watched you come by nightfall and leave before morning dawned, always making sure to exchange pleasantries. One of the nights, you asked if he had any stories to tell you—though there was little talking or writing that night. It was hard to jot down what he was telling you with his head between your thighs.

You were, by no means, a possessive vampire. You liked to keep your options open and drift from place to place. But around a year and a half later, you heard of Lestat landing in New Orleans, sucking the furniture stores and libraries dry—and setting his eyes on Louis. Your Louis.

You and Louis were not lovers, and the same would apply to your and Lestat’s relationship. You would say you were far closer to being friends with the two than lovers. Though… the prospect of love was not a far away concept to you. Not when it came to Lestat and Louis.

“You turned him,” you said to Lestat with a disapproving frown. Louis was sleeping fitfully in a coffin between the two of you, skin charred and covered in dust and burns. Lestat didn’t have to tell you—you put the clues together and figured out that Louis had run into the morning sun without knowing what it would do to him. “You were always the selfish one, weren’t you? I could never have anything for myself.”

“I’m sorry, did I spoil your little toy?” Lestat said, leering over you with a grin.

“He wasn’t a toy. He’s a friend.”

The blonde vampire’s hands reached out to caress over your face, soft and cold. “A friend that you fucked.”

“On occasion.” Your nose wrinkled. “You fucked him, too.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. It would have surprised you if Lestat hadn’t fucked Louis.

“Don’t be jealous, my darling,” he said, eyes glinting dangerously. “I’ll fuck you, as well. You need only ask. It has been a long while, no?”

He kissed you then, tasting of sweet blood and sharp wine. As angry as you were with him, you didn’t push him away. With Lestat, it was hard to say no. That morning, you fell asleep in his coffin, limbs woven together. Come sunset, you were already gone.

It took you a few days to get around to forgiving Lestat. Louis made you softer—his inexperience to vampire life was ever so endearing to you. When you explained to Louis that you were also a vampire—one with a deep history with his maker, he stared at you with widened eyes.

“It’s no wonder I never saw you during the day,” he said, Lestat’s arm slung around his shoulder. “But why didn’t you kill any of my girls? How could you resist it?”

“Older vampires find it easier to resist temptation,” you told him with a dangerous, fanged smile. “Besides—I wanted their stories more than I wanted their blood. I can find food… elsewhere.”

“Elsewhere?” Louis glanced between you and Lestat, the first thought vanishing from his mind just as quickly as it came. “Wait, were you two—did you… did he turn you, too?”

A bark of a laugh fell from your lips. “Oh, Louis, my dear, no. Lestat may have left hundreds and thousands of fledglings in his bloody wake but I am not one of them. My turning will be a story for another time,” you assured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Louis smiled and nodded as if he was in a daze. To his side, Lestat looked visibly annoyed. Whether he was jealous of you or Louis, you couldn’t tell.

Sharing is caring, you greedy whore, you said to him without moving your lips. Lestat only stared at you with those icy blue eyes and huffed out a dramatic sigh.

“Well, since the fledgling has already taken a liking to you, would you like to stay?” Lestat gestured around his decorated halls. “There is more than enough room here for three coffins.”

As always, saying no to Lestat was usually not an option.

“You could just say you’d like me here. Don’t have to be dragging Louis into it,” you told him, patting his chest with a mocking simper.

“Yes, yes, fine—I’d like you to stay, as well. I’ve missed you terribly.” Lestat moved closer to you as if he was going to kiss you, but you leaned away at the last moment and grinned at Louis.

“Louis, hon, how about we get a nice fire started and you tell me all about what mean ol’ Lestat did to you the first few hours of your turning? I love hearing about new vampire experiences. It’s been so long I can hardly remember mine.” You offered Louis your arm and gestured to the living room. The man looked to Lestat, almost as if asking for permission, but turned away just as quickly to take your arm.

Louis, in his hunger and youth, had impulsively killed an important man in town. Lestat had already angrily berated him enough whilst tossing the body into the cremator. You were more gentle with your approach, taking Louis’ hands and goading him to wash the blood off and change into a new set of clothes that weren’t soaked with his kill.

The amusing thought that you and Lestat were raising a child and parenting together briefly crossed your mind. But then again, the two of you had both fucked Louis before and were most definitely going to again in the future, so perhaps it wasn’t the best analogy.

“Here, put this on.” you handed Louis, stripped naked and scrubbed of the blood, a fresh button-down whilst Lestat was off cleaning up the mess Louis had made. “That was real dangerous what you did back there, you know. You’ll get detectives sniffing around and swarming you like ants to a honey pot. They don’t take kindly to black folk, neither.”

“I know,” he said, shrugging on the shirt. “I was hungry.”

“I know,” you parroted, though your tone was considerably softer. You placed your cold palm against Louis’ face and he leaned into it for a few silent moments. “Just be more careful next time, alright? Lestat and I have centuries of experience between us—you can trust us.”

Louis’ face contorted at the realization. “Sometimes I forget that this is gon’ be forever. That I won’t just wake up and you two will be gone. That I’ll be human again and my brother will still be around and my ma would still be asking me to come over to her house for dinner every Sunday.”

“Forever isn’t always a bad thing,” you said, voice soft and soothing. “It is daunting, yes, but you still live from day to day just as the mortals do. You’ll grow more comfortable in your skin with time, I promise.” You hesitated to say the next few sentences. “Lestat, as much as you admire his strength, is just as afraid as you sometimes. He’s afraid of being lonely. I confess, I have been afraid to be lonely more than once myself, but I have made peace with the fact that I will be alone sometimes. Immortal life makes it inevitable. My point is, though… you aren’t alone. Lestat is not as godly as you think he is.”

“And are you?” Louis asked.

“Do you think of me as godly?”

One of his shoulders lifted in a half-shrug. “Most of the time.”

“I’m still a person,” you reassured him. “Lost to time, perhaps, but a person nonetheless. And you are, too.”

Your words seemed to placate Louis, though only momentarily. He parted his mouth open to say more, but Lestat dramatically stormed in the room, expression still creased with anger. After decades upon decades of knowing him, you knew by now that he would get over it eventually—it wasn’t really that big of a deal. But Louis, quite shaken up by the kill and his maker furious with him, couldn’t shrug it off as easily as you. The two of them went to their respective coffins angrily.

Hours later, whilst you were writing up drafts of your most recent discussions with a few townspeople, you heard the two of them quietly exchange words of apology and plans for the future from their coffins. You smiled down to yourself. The romance between them was strong, you knew. You wondered if you ever had the same connection with Lestat. Or even Louis. You were growing quite fond of him. And you’d always been fond of Lestat, even though he irritated you to no end.

When Louis bought the most expensive, the biggest, and the brightest club in the district, he made sure to pay all the working girls and musicians twice what they earned before. The doors were now open to anyone, not just folks with light skin. And he even had a room especially booked for you—always decked with the finest pencils and pens and papers and books and the most heavenly chairs imaginable—Louis was a man who thought out your every need. It startled you to think that your fondness for him may be far greater than just fondness. How would Lestat feel about you falling in love with his fledgling? Louis was yours first. And before that, you and Lestat were also each other’s for a time.

With Louis still at the club entertaining guests, Lestat heard your thoughts as soon as you returned from your work—you didn’t bother hiding your mind from him, because he had ways of getting information out of you regardless.

“I don’t mind,” he said, greeting you as you changed out of your attire into more comfortable clothes for home. He hung by the doorway for a moment before slinking closer to you, running his hands up and down your bare skin. “We can share, my love. I don’t mind—not with you. And I’m sure Louis wouldn’t mind sharing you with me.”

“Rather presumptuous of you,” you replied.

“Not presumptuous if you’re thinking it,” Lestat said, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, then several more up your neck. “Don’t resist us. It can be the three of us together. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“There’s a reason I left you in the first place,” you whispered. “You are possessive and mean when you want to be.”

Lestat tilted your face so his lips hovered just an inch over yours. “That may be true… but you’ll stay for Louis.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you better than anyone undead or alive.

“I will.”

“Good,” he said, and then kissed you as if he was going to devour you whole.

Many moons later, you walked into one of the house’s many bedrooms, about to enquire if either of the vampires had seen your notebook lying around anywhere, when you saw Louis lying on the bed, tears of red slipping down his face. Lestat dabbed the blood away with a napkin.

“What’s going on?” you asked with a concerned tone, sitting down next to him on the mattress opposite Lestat.

“My nephew,” Louis practically spat out the words as if they had scorched his tongue. “I was so afraid I would… I could hear his heart—his tiny little heart—and I wanted to rip it out and eat it. I’m a monster.”

There was a moment of silence as you studied the young fledgling.

“If you’re a monster, what does that make me?” you whispered, leaning down to press your nose to the back of his ear. “You didn’t kill him, Louis.”

“No, but I could have.” Another bloody tear slipped down his eye and slotted against his nose bridge.

Whilst Lestat wiped his face again, he said, “You have to stop seeing them, Louis. They’ll grow fearful of you if they haven’t already.”

“No,” said Louis, voice hoarse and quiet. “I can’t do it.”

“It’s a rite of passage for all of us,” Lestat went on. “If you love your family, as I know you do, spare them all the pain that you are causing them.” Knowing Lestat’s relationship with his mother, you found his words quite ironic. Louis didn’t need to know about that right now, though.

“My siblings spent many decades looking for me once I ‘disappeared’,” you told Louis. “It hurt to distance myself from them, but I was protecting them.”

Louis glanced up at you. Sitting with your back to the lit fireplace, there seemed to be an angelic glow framing you. “I didn’t know you have siblings.”

“Had,” you corrected. “They are long gone now, though many of their children’s children and further generations remain. They lived long and happy lives even after I left.”

“I ain’t never gonna have a family of my own, am I?” Louis lamented. “No sons, no daughters.”

It was silent for a moment when you and Lestat locked eyes. The blonde looked back down at his fledgling. “We’re your family, Louis.”

“You should just throw me in the incinerator,” said Louis. “Make another one.”

“What a waste that would be,” Lestat remarked.

You nodded. “And if he did, I would rip him apart limb from limb. You are not replaceable, Louis.”

“The both of us have been on this Earth for around two centuries and we can confidently report that you have no twin,” said Lestat. “No one as angry, as stubborn, as unaccommodating, as maddening—”

Louis frowned. “Sound like trash to me—”

“—as loving, as dedicated, as thoughtful, as imperfectly perfect as you’ve become. You’re a challenge every sunset, Saint Louis. We’d have it no other way.” Lestat waited a second before nudging you to agree with him.

“Yes,” you jumped to say, perhaps a second late. “Louis, hon, I don’t want to force you not to see your family. You’re free to tell them the truth if you’d like. Let them see you as a monster, as a murderer—because they certainly won’t see you in the same way we do. I’m just saying… letting them go may be the less painful option.”

Louis squeezed his eyes shut and inhaled sharply. Though he said nothing, you knew that he knew you were right.

“Here’s an idea… let’s take a holiday,” ventured Lestat. “What about Rome?”

“Rome sounds lovely,” you said with an excited grin. It had been a handful of decades since you last stepped in Europe. Most of your recent years had you traveling much of North and South America.

“Rome? Rome, like, Italy?” Louis said, cracking an eye open to scrutinize his lovers.

“Would you prefer Rome, Wisconsin?” Lestat fired back, which made Louis sit up on the bed and shake his head.

“I can’t just pick up and go to Rome. I got a business to run!”

You snaked your arms around Louis from behind and pressed your nose into his neck. You could hear his thoughts of how nice you smelled and smiled against his skin. “I’m sure you have many trusted work buddies that can manage the Azalea for a few days.”

Louis and Lestat bickered some more about transporting the coffins after that, as if they were an old married couple. You only listened in amusement and kissed down Louis' jaw.

Finally, Lestat relented his plans of Rome and instead brandished tickets to another opera.

“I can spend a few days apart from the two of you to go to Rome myself,” you said, arching your back as if you were a cat and sprawling down on the mattress to watch Louis and Lestat upside down. “I can bring back souvenirs. The Italians have the most divine oil paints—”

“Don’t go,” Louis blurted, interrupting you. “Don’t—not yet.”

For a moment, you studied him with curious eyes. His thoughts were telling you he wasn’t sure if he could handle being left on his own with Lestat without you. Codependency was a common trait amongst vampire couples, you knew this, but that didn’t mean it was at all healthy. Nonetheless, you reluctantly nodded. “Alright. I won’t leave. But we do have to get out of the country at some point—it’s important to see more than America, Louis.”

“With that, I concur,” Lestat chimed his agreement. Then, he seized both of your arms and began to drag you off the mattress until you laughed and twisted up to get onto your feet yourself. “Come, my darlings, I’ve had suits made for us.”

There was a methodology to going to the opera to keep eyes off of you. You would go in first, alone. Then Lestat, with Louis walking a pace behind him, masquerading as his valet. It was degrading, all three of you knew. But it was the early 1900s, and there was little more you could do without drawing attention from passersby.

Though the opera was a cheap affair, you were considerably entertained until the tenor entered the stage and began to sing all the wrong notes. To your ears, which were sharp, but not suited to the intricacies of musical notes, his singing was strangely off but still fine. To Lestat, however, he was not at all amused. His jaw muscles clenched and his fingers curled and uncurled over the sheet music he had brought. One glance his way and you already knew he had made his mind on who would be that evening’s supper.

Hours later, when Lestat had taken the young singer to your hotel room, you wondered if he was planning on simply fucking some sense into him before biting into his throat. Instead, Lestat sat down by the piano and played the notes, forcing the singer to sing. He pointed out each and every flaw, tone growing harsher with each mistake.

Louis watched the two with a nauseous stomach and an uneasy mind. You tried to pull him away to another room, tried to kiss him until he forgot about Lestat and his fixation on the poor man, but Louis’ mind was adrift.

“Louis, this is meant to be a vacation,” you reminded him, massaging your fingers over his tense shoulders.

“How can it be a vacation when he’s in the other room about to murder some guy for a note he sang offkey?” Louis asked, a tad too loudly for your preference.

“Lestat gets this way sometimes. You know this by now. He gets angry, he gets sucked in, he gets tunnel vision until something is done exactly how he wants it to be done. It doesn’t affect us, though, not really. Dinner is dinner, Louis.”

Louis crossed his arms. “You have animals for dinner most of the time. And you kill people who deserve it. Lestat, he just—that man could have a family, a whole life ahead of him!”

“The same could be said for the people I’ve killed,” you replied easily.

“No, no, it’s different!” he vehemently said. “You killed the rapists, the child-fiddlers, and even the slave-owners back when they were still around! Lestat, he—”

“I know,” you said, tone firm. “Louis, I know.”

“Do you, though?” Louis shook his head in incredulity at your nonchalance and walked back into the main room where Lestat had just struck the young tenor across his vocal cords, destroying them beyond repair. “Why do you do this, Lestat?”

The blonde licked the blood off his fingers. “Well, I like to do it. I enjoy it.”

“Well, I don’t,” said Louis. “You don’t have to humiliate him like that.”

In a burst of outrage, Lestat yelled, “Well, I don’t say that you have to enjoy it! Kill them swiftly if you have to, but do it! Embrace what you are! You are a killer, Louis!”

You walked into the room at that, brows furrowed. “Will you two stop it? All this yelling and drama—this was meant to be a vacation!”

“How can it be a vacation when we haven’t even left this damned country?” Lestat bitterly replied. “I should have gone to Italy with you and left Louis here to scavenge through corpses until he rotted away.”

“You don’t mean that,” you angrily said, volume rising. “You’ve had decades to temper your anger issues, and yet you haven’t changed a single bit!”

Lestat raised his nose in defiance, picked up the tenor (who had crumpled to the ground in a bloody heap), and swiftly carried him to the couch where he would slowly drain him of his blood. Louis took to sitting and watching the dying man’s last thoughts. A part of you wondered why, if he was so horrified by Lestat's cruelty, did he bother to stay and watch—though you didn’t stick around to ask. Instead, you retired to the bedchambers without saying goodbye to either of them. Lestat left you a chalice of the singer’s blood by your coffin as an apology of sorts, but it was left untouched.

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koreluvsspring · 19 days ago

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reason ☆ ( thirdyear!katsuki x reader ) suggestive — your boyfriend breaks up with you, and katsuki doesn’t waste opportunities

The first fact Class 1-A learns about you is that you have a boyfriend.

Well — had. And now you’re third years, and it’s safe to say that you should’ve broken up long ago.

You had him since middle school, but they never met him. Your dynamic shifted from the perfect picture of high school sweethearts to something more toxic since you got into UA — 1-A, no less. Yuusei didn’t pass the UA exams and called you insensitive for asking him to come meet your ‘fancy hero friends’ while he was from some low-profile school, and back when you had sympathy for him, it was difficult to be peeved at his blatant jealousy. He had a compelling, teary face.

“That’s called manipulative,” Sero says.

“He was really insecure,” you confess. Not that it makes it any better. He was manipulative because he was insecure — but that wasn’t all. He’d been that way long ago. There was a different turning point.

Kirishima gives a gentle, understanding pat on the back. “We were busy enough as it is. But now we’re about to graduate; of course you started thinking more about your future.”

“And you got the perfect ending — a future without him!” Ashido cheers to that. You take a long, long, victorious sip.

Right. After your breakup, you phoned Ashido about it, unaware that she was out with the rest of your friends, but it wasn’t like you were on speaker. Ashido gasped and shrieked, and the rest continued in her apartment, bottles of fancy wine that probably came from Bakugou lined up on the table.

Bakugou had been silent the entire time, sitting on the far edge of the couch across yours. You didn’t even think he’d come along. He’d always been coldly indifferent when it came to anything related to Yuusei. He doesn’t offer a single word; you expected him to call you stupid for dragging it this long when you entered the room. He just stared, ruby tracing your every step.

“So? What made you snap?” Kaminari asks, nestling into the cushion beside you, slinging an arm over your shoulder. You feel like a prey as Bakugou’s gaze holds on Kaminari’s arm for a moment too long. “What shit did he pull this time?”

Bakugou had been the reason for your breakup, and it almost feels like he knows exactly that.

Yuusei despised him. Bakugou is the physical embodiment of everything Yuusei failed to be, and you were friends with him. It really didn’t help that Bakugou has an ego and can back it up; Yuusei didn't have either.

Yuusei was in a heated argument with a classmate, and you got irritated by his voice drowning out even your music at the loudest volume. So you got up, buried your feet in your outside shoes, and glanced back.

“Hey, I’m going out.”

Yuusei was already having an awful day, and came the bottled-up aggression that made him spit in seething venom: “What, don’t tell me you’re going out to fuck Bakugou behind my back again?”

You paused from where you had been tugging your jacket sleeves up your arms. And then, unadulterated fury. The rest is history.

But that’s embarrassing to admit to your friends. They’d ask why Yuusei would even bring Bakugou up — why he is even a recurring argument in your relationship. It wasn’t just Yuusei that was the problem. Somewhere buried deep that Yuusei could feel was your shame, the one that knew Yuusei wasn’t just threatened by Bakugou because of one thing.

“He was having a bad day,” you say instead, and the mendacious excuse slips so easily. Back then, you thought it was because you needed to defend Yuusei; now, it was because you feared them also knowing the truth. “And I realized I just couldn’t — uh, anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ashido agree together.

Bakugou finally shifts from where he’d been unmoving, ducking down to fill his glass. “‘least you learned your fucking lesson.” His gaze flicks up; the intensity makes you feel so shameful. It coils in your gut. “Forget the losers who can’t handle themselves. Go for the best.”

Coming from him. Is he flirting? This has to be flirting, right? Every word he says feels so charged, blatant with intent.

“Whoa, fresh on the market and you’re already saying that? Give it a few months, at least,” Kaminari laughs, followed by some, but you and Bakugou aren’t laughing. You’re stuck in this weird staring competition — looking away feels like admitting defeat. Feels like you’d straight up confess that yes, it’s you! You’re the fucking reason why!

“Yeah,” you mutter, though you’re not sure if it’s in response to Kaminari or Bakugou’s. You drag on another sip but feel as sober as a judge. You feel like you’d need ten more before you could even deal with whatever shit Bakugou is pulling.

“Cheer up, baby,” Mina coos. “You know you’re a catch. Yuusei will know exactly what he lost.”

“I don’t care about him anymore,” you say, which is the complete truth. “I’m getting shitfaced because I feel like I’m about to make a very bad decision.”

“Um?” Kirishima voices worriedly. “Do we need to take you somewhere?”

Bakugou stands abruptly, jingling his car keys in between his fingers. “Come on.”

“Are you drunk?” he asks before you can even pretend to open your front door.

“I only smell like it, but I really am too clear-headed for this,” you swear.

The moment he pins you to the wall and buries his mouth into yours, you know you are gone. This is what Yuusei had been fearing, what you’d been hiding — and fuck, it feels so good. He kisses like he’s starving like he’s been holding back for as long as you are. The shame comes spilling out soon after.

“I just got broken up with,” you say in a futile attempt to ease your guilt. “Hey — Katsuki, do you even—”

“I know what I’m doin’,” he says, mouthing over where your jaw and neck meet. "I know you want me."

“God, this is so fucked up,” you say, trailing off in a whine that really says a lot about you. “I’m an asshole. You’re really good at kissing — Katsuki—”

“Try three years of patience and tell me again what’s more fucked up,” Katsuki rasps, breath searing a mark on your skin, inciting a shudder that came down from your toes to your dizzy head.

“You were waiting for Yuusei and me to break up?”

“I get what I want.” Katsuki pauses, his eyes flicking up, arresting yours for a breath. “And he was a dick. Was bettin’ since year one.”

You curl a strand of his untamed hair, unwittingly charmed. “Sorry for making you wait.”

He responds by capturing your lips in a kiss, prying your mouth open with his, licking in, biting, pulling, grinding, and —

Katsuki softens his hold on your hips, pushing off. “Hey.”

You pant. Wow, you think, lightheaded, you don’t think you’d ever been kissed that well. “Hey,” you exhale over his mouth.

Katsuki bears his forehead heavily down on yours. “This isn’t some one-night stand rebound bullshit, you hear me? I didn’t wait three years just to get my dick wet — we’re doin’ this shit, got that?”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “You’re the best of all of them, right?”

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koreluvsspring · 19 days ago

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FAWKKKKKKKKKK😍😍😍😍

everything is embarrassing // izuku midoriya

when he doesn't know how to take control of his life

a/n: 6k+ words lmao i feel crazzzzzy ok bye

19-year-old izuku doesn't have the privilege of hopping around college parties on the weekends or enjoy the “college experience” like his friends do.

he can barely catch a break to breathe.

monday through friday he's in classes from 8:00am to 4:00pm, and for more than half of the week from 6:00pm to 12:00am, he's working at the campus library- simultaneously shelving returns, organizing files, and scrambling to finish his homework. on the weekends, he'll be at his part time job at the local cafe just down the street from his dorm building.

it hasn't been an easy semester for izuku. he's a year behind his friends and he wants nothing more than to be able to walk across that stage with them by the end of their fourth year, but nothing comes easy when you’ve been out of school for a year, no money, have a scholarship on the line, and a single mother at home to make proud.

he's watching the time go by. his eyes darting back and forth between the ticking needle on the analog clock and you sitting at your usual table with your headphones on, attention glued to your textbook, and the tapping of your pencil growing louder by the second.

occasionally, he'd let himself clock out and lock up about 5-10 minutes early if there was no one lingering around on his floor, and all of the day's work had been completed. no one stays as late in the library as you do. it annoys him.

5-10 minutes is crucial to izuku.

he could get a head-start on his commute back to his dorm. if he walks quickly enough, he'd be back before 12:15am, be ready for bed by 12:35am, and he'd be able to get at least 6 hours of sleep.

if he's lucky.

but you. you were always there until the very last minute- sometimes even past closing.

it's 12:05am. how could anyone be so careless to not keep an eye on the time? can’t you see that it’s only you two left on this floor? did you not hear the 10 minute closing warning on the intercom?

if he wasn't running on a couple hour of sleep, a poor excuse for dinner, and 6 hours worth of brain numbing work, he wouldn't have the nerves to approach you so casually. he'd be replaying what he wanted to say in his head, stumbling over his words, and hope you wouldn't take offense to it.

"the library's closed." he bluntly says, still maintaining a few feet of distance.

you don't hear him or notice his presence at all. you're lost in that textbook and your mind is fumbling through these terms and definitions staring back at you.

izuku blinks once. then twice.

"hey." he starts again, taking a step closer and setting a hand down on the table right above your textbook.

you look up and catch the library worker’s tired eyes. your gaze immediately flickers to the analog clock hung on the wall past his shoulder.

12:12am

“oh shit!” you exclaim, ripping off your headphones. “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry, i lost track of time.”

you slam your textbook shut, rubbing your eyes against the back of your hand. how long had you been at it like this? studying the hours away in your own corner of the library?

“yeah.” izuku breathily chuckles, a sense of relief washing over him as he watches you haphazardly shove your books and papers in your bag. “sorry, i hate to interrupt a good study session, but i’m kinda tired, and if i stay here for another minute, the shelves might start talking to me.”

“god, don’t be sorry. i get it.” you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “i’m here, like, everyday. i’m sure everyone who works here is sick of me by now.”.

“yeah, me too.” he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck as you two make your way towards the exit. “here everyday, that is.” he quips, nervously running a hand through his tousled hair.

“look at us, so scholarly.” your voice dripping in sarcasm. you turn your head over your shoulder to meet his eye. “paying so much money for this university to drain us of all joy in life.”

“well, i’m on a scholarship.” izuku mutters. “so i guess i still have some joy left?

“yeah? well that’s actually even worse.”

“is it?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“you have much more to lose.”

the next time you two see each other, he’s knelt over an open filing cabinet, digging through dividers for some sort of paperwork.

since that night you’ve met, university life has felt a bit less lonely- something about taking a 20 minute walk to your dorm buildings, which happens to be right next to each other, complaining about how terrible of time you’re having adjusting to university life really brings people together.

“hey.” you cough.

izuku looks up to see you sporting a coffee cup in each hand.

“oh. it’s you. hey.”

you hold one out to him, waiting for him to take it, but all he does is give you a blank stare as his eyes flicker between your own and the cup outreached towards him.

“take it.” you chuckle. “i brought it for you. you looked like shit last time i saw you, so...”

the corners of his mouth quirks up into a smile, gingerly accepting the hot cup of coffee.

“...so this is your apology for staying past closing the other night?” he teases.

“oh definitely not.” you scoff. “i’ll be doing it again tonight too, don’t you worry.”

he nods his head, taking a deep swig of the bittersweet coffee. “see you at midnight, then.”

“see you at midnight.” you confirm, sending him a smile as you pull your headphones over your ear and head towards the back of the library where your designated table was waiting for you.

at 21-years-old, izuku goes to his first house party. it takes you about a week to convince him to give you one of his saturday nights that he’d usually reserve for studying or catching up on sleep.

“please.” you beg once more. “what are you going to say to your future students? how are you going to say you had the college experience without going to a single party?”

“with a degree?” he chuckles, slinging a rag over his shoulder. “you’re also distracting me. i’m on the clock, and my boss can come back anytime, you know.”

“oh, please.” you roll your eyes. “if toshinori was here, he’d be telling you to put your big boy pants on and get drunk with his favorite customer tonight. and if you agreed the first time i asked, i wouldn’t have to follow you to your second place of employment.”

“i’m sorry, i can’t. maybe next time?”

“please, izuku, just one party. i’ll help you get ready after your shift. we’ll leave anytime you want, but i can guarantee you’ll have so much fun. i promise i’ll never ask you again if you really do end up hating it.”

he can imagine it now- if someone asked him about his college experience, he wouldn’t mention the parties, the professors, or the time spent away from home. he’d talk about you.

izuku has a hard time balancing his life between keeping up with the workload and trying to not let his days blend into a muddy gray, but you had perfectly fit somewhere in between all of the chaos like a fresh breath of air.

izuku was tired, and you were a shot of espresso. how can he say no to you?

“fine.” he sighs in defeat, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter towards you. “but i can’t be out that late, okay? i have to be back here in the morning.”

“what the fuck happened?” you slam the door shut behind you, muffling out chatter of the crowd and heavy bass shaking through the walls.

you twist a wad of toilet paper into a cone before plugging the stream of blood gushing from his nose.

“sorry, sorry, sorry!” he repeats, holding the toilet paper in place with a bewildered look in his eyes.

“i don’t know what happened,” he starts in a nasally tone “maybe it’s all the smoke in the air or something. i heard that second hand smoke can be really drying for your nasal passages, especially if there’s not a lot of ventilation like in this apartment, i also haven’t been drinking a lot of water today and-”

“aht!” you interrupt, nudging him over with your elbow to rinse your hands off from the bloody residue. “my theory is that your body is shutting down on itself from the lack of proper sleep and nutrition. thoughts?”

izuku pouts. “stop it. i had a protein shake before we came, remember?”

“of course, how could i forget about the most rancid concoction you managed to blend together?” you mutter, wetting a wad of toilet paper and dabbing away the dried blood that had fallen onto his chin and t-shirt.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, holding up the red solo cup containing a questionable blue liquid that you shoved in his hands to hold when his nose started dripping blood.

“wow, since when were you a chem major? since you know so much about ‘rancid concoctions,’ huh?” he deadpans.

“izuku midoriya, are you getting sassy with me?” you scoff, grabbing the cup back from his hands.

“maybe i am.” he presses his lips together to suppress a smirk. “or maybe i’m just making an observation.”

izuku had finally started learning how to bite back. somewhere within the last year, the skittish library worker who you enjoyed pestering had grown the confidence to return your relentless teasing.

you weren’t sure how to take it- how giddy it made you feel and how much more of it you wanted to draw out of him.

to him, it was all a front. he perfected the line delivery with ease, but at the cost of his chest tightening and stomach turning over the sight of your amused smile and lit up eyes. this made him anxious.

you have much more to lose

everytime he sees you, he’s reminded of your very first conversation together when you were first years. he’s acutely aware of how much he has to lose, but if there’s one thing izuku could not bear to risk losing during the worst few years of his life, it was you.

“uh, why are you looking at me like that?” he nervously chuckles, his ears growing hot from trailing your eyes as they glaze over his face.

“i love you.” you smile, the alcohol finally making its way to your head. “a lot.”

izuku’s breathing stops for a moment. his eyes widen, and the nervous giggles continue pouring out as his facade from minutes earlier crumbles completely.

“why are you laughing?” you chuckle, taking a sip from your cup, choking back a grimace.

“i…i don’t know.” he bites his bottom lip, suddenly aware of his nervous habit. “you’re just being a silly drunk right now."

“what? because i said i love you?” you cock your head with a lazy smile “the L-word got your panties in a twist?”

“don’t know what you mean.” he turns his attention back to the mirror, subtly swiping his sweaty palms on his thighs before unplugging the tissue from his nose.

for the first time in his life, he’s simultaneously grateful and regretful for alcohol. grateful for the red sheen over his face to mask his blush. regretful for the carelessness it caused you with your words.

he doesn’t have the time or energy to entertain it. that is the one thing he’s certain of. he wouldn’t be good for you- wouldn’t give you the time and attention you deserved. he loves you too. he loves you enough to not say it back.

“it stopped bleeding. i think i’ll have to leave soon, so let’s get back out there, yeah? i’ll make you a better drink, too.”

he shoots you a forced grin before grabbing you by the shoulders and ushering you two back to the party where you reunite with your roommates and mutual friends. you leave your drink in the bathroom.

on the day izuku turns 22-years-old, he finds out that he’s on track to graduate with you and his friends. after stepping out for a quick phone call with his academic advisor, he drunkenly cries into your shoulder mid-birthday party (that his boss at the cafe forced him to take the time off to have).

all of the hard work and courses he packed on during his first two years at university finally paid off. though, that doesn't mean he’s gotten any easier on himself.

he quits his job at the library and starts student teaching part time at the local middle school for college credit.

you barely see him now-a-days. more often than not, your texts go unanswered.

izuku is a busy guy.

you miss him. you didn't realize how lonely it felt to walk back to your dorm from the library at midnight by yourself- you haven't felt this way for a while, not since you met izuku.

you wished he made it easier for you. your feelings for him never subsides, but instead grows into a longing ache. it’ll be like this until graduation. the occasional text message, running into each other in the halls with quick hello and goodbye, coming into his weekend job just to see him for a few reassuring moments- you know you both needed it.

he talks about you to his students a lot- “my best friend,” “someone important to me,” “my support system,” and etc. he’s always referring to you.

he missed seeing you all the time, but it’s all been so hectic for him he hates to admit that you barely cross his mind when he’s in the midst of a busy day. on top of his regular grueling school work, he has to lesson-plan for the days he’s teaching, grade papers, as well as check in with his professors and mentors.

he doesn’t know how he does it.

working in that library was excruciating, but he missed nothing more than the last half hour of his shifts where it’d just be you two, sending shy glances at one another until it hit midnight. he doesn’t even mind the rest of the 6 hour shift where you’re just sitting in the same spot that you always gravitate towards, head in the textbook for him to look up at every now and then.

you tell him you love him for the second time at the end of your graduation party when all of the guests have cleared out of your half empty apartment.

“what?” his eyes go wide, exactly like they did a year ago.

“i love you, izuku.” you ball the sides of your graduation gown, wrinkling the fabric in your hands.

you’re sober this time, which makes it infinitely more painful to say out loud.

his mouth gapes open as if he’s a fish gasping for water. he doesn’t know what to say.

“i have for years.” you fill in the silence, fidgeting with the silky material. “ever since you kicked me out of that fucking library, i think. i don’t know. maybe i’m being stupid, but i can’t help it. i love you, and i need you to know before… you know.”

it’s been three years, and you’ve waited until this night to pour it all out because you knew that in less than 24 hours, you’d be going your separate ways.

in a perfect situation, izuku would tell you that he feels the same. he’d run through an airport to stop you from leaving and beg you to stay with him. you wouldn’t have to go back home. you’d share an apartment. live in the city. start your entry jobs. you’d have time together.

“i’m sorry.” is all he says. “i’m sorry.” he repeats.

tears well in his eyes, and he grabs you by the shoulders to pull you into his chest.

“sheesh, you’re such a crybaby.” you choke out a half chuckle, your eyes running hot now. “don’t be sorry, okay? i get it. i know.”

your arms tightly wrap around izuku’s waist as you two silently sob into one another. his hand runs through your hair, stopping at the nape of your neck to pull you closer.

there’s something much more painful behind this confession to cry about. you’re leaving the city, and you have no reason to stay. for the first time in three years, izuku won’t be within arm’s reach and you’re left with the cold reality of navigating your future without your best friend by your side.

“you know, i..” he begins, pulling you back to look at your face, searching for the right words, or an answer. “it’s not that i don’t feel the same, okay?”

his cheeks lightly dust over pink. it’s the first time he’s admitted that out loud.

“i know.” you sadly smile, your hand reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left on his cheeks. “we’ll be okay. we worked hard for this, izuku.”

izuku felt like throwing up. he had spent the last three years working himself into the ground with endless all-nighters, black coffees, and missed events to get everything he’s ever wanted for his future, so why does it feel like his world is slipping from between his fingers?

yes, he worked hard, but he wondered if it was all enough?

“i’m going to miss you.” he mutters, connecting your foreheads together. “i already do. you’re everything to me.”

“me more. i’ll miss you more.”

after that night, you don’t see izuku again for a long time.

izuku jumps into his new position at the local high school in the same school district as the middle school he worked at during his last year of university. he feels a sense of relief everytime he walks into his school building- something that he couldn’t ever say during his years as a student.

you move back home and land an entry job at a startup tech company. it’s boring work, but at least it’s remote and your days don’t mesh into one- you made sure you would never have to go through that again.

you try to stay connected, but work is busy, and you’re both trying to figure out what life is supposed to look like post-grad. occasionally, you’ll send each other a meaningless “thinking of you” message, but you eventually lose contact after a couple of years of trying to plan visits and meet ups- there is just no time. there never was.

at 27-years-old, izuku is spending his late afternoon sitting in his empty classroom with one of his students. it’s half an hour past their scheduled parent-teacher conference time, and he’s wondering if he should just reschedule.

“are you sure your mom is coming? did you tell her the right time and date?” izuku sighs, resting his head on a propped elbow.

“duh. what kind of student do you think i am?” they scoff, glancing up at him from their phone.

“judging by your grades, i know exactly the kind of student you are.” he mumbles.

izuku’s trying to not panic, the kid clearly isn’t, but he’s wondering how far back this sets his schedule. he should be starting on the stack of papers to grade by now. he still needs to write out a lesson plan for tomorrow. maybe the kids deserve a movie day? maybe he deserves a movie day.

“don’t freak out.” izuku hears from outside of his door “you’re fine. it’s okay. seriously, chill the fuck out you weren’t interrupting anything, i needed a break anyways. i’m walking in right now. yeah, i’ll let you know how it goes.”

finally.

izuku straightens up, and tightens his tie. he whips open his laptop and pulls up the tabs of grades and assignments to discuss.

“i’m so sorry-” the voice falters at the end as it enters the classroom.

“don’t be, i was just-” izuku glances up from his screen and his throat suddenly closes shut.

5 years later, and the universe leads you back to one another. here. in his classroom.

“izuku midoriya?” you cough out.

for the first time in his life, he doesn’t like the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth. it’s hesitant. it sounds foreign. it makes him question himself for a moment.

yes? that’s me, right? it’s me, izuku. your izuku.

“what are…uh.. you…here?” he stammers, unable to get the words out.

you take a step forward into the classroom. you could pass out at the sight of him. he still seemed as boyish as ever. maybe a bit broader, and taller, but his hair is still just as wild as it was in university. you can’t help but feel a twinge of insecurity as you wonder if you looked any different as well.

“uh…where’s mom?” your nephew glances back and forth between you two starstrucked at the sight of one another. “we have to look over my grades and stuff, you know.”

“right!” you exclaim. “your mom got caught up at work, so she asked me to come in.” you awkwardly shift in your position, your eyes never leaving izuku’s.

izuku’s face flares up in heat, snapping back into the present as his eyes flicker back towards his student.

“you know what? let’s reschedule that. you can go and i’ll see you tomorrow?” he quickly stands up, knocking over his chair and hitting his knee against his desk in the process.

“really?” they cock an eyebrow at the shift in behavior from the two adults in the room.

“yup! we’re running late and i have a meeting right now, so i’ll just email your mom to reschedule.” he forces a reassuring grin, making his way around his desk. “don’t forget to read over the syllabus to see what’s due, alright?”

“alright, i guess. see you tomorrow then, sensei” they shoot you a questioning side glance as they sling their backpack over their shoulder. “are you taking me home?”

“no.” you say, almost a bit too quickly. “uh, i have some errands to run before your mom gets back home, so you go on ahead i’ll see you at home.”

once your nephew leaves, unsuspecting of the thick line of tension running between his aunt and teacher, izuku quickly rushes over and shuts his door.

“whatareyoudoinghere?” the sentence leaves his mouth in an incoherent string of words. he grabs you by the shoulders and lets his eyes take in your face. every curve, every mark, every wrinkle, old and new.

you feel 19 again. you guess the urge to kiss izuku midoroya never leaves you, after all.

“my sister just got a new job, so i’m living with her and helping her out with the kids while she adjusts.” you breathlessly stare at him. “i didn’t know you were still in the city.”

of course he’s still here- exactly where you left him after all these years. his grip on your shoulders tightens as a response. he’s scared that if he lets go, you’ll be gone for good, or at least for another 5 years.

“we should catch up.” you smile, grabbing onto his forearms as a warmth crawls up your next “when are you free? i mean, you’re probably really busy, but even a phone call-”

“tonight? how about tonight?” he blurts out. “we can go somewhere?”

izuku reassures himself that it’s fine. the kids can have a movie day, and he’ll spend that time grading papers and catching up on work. the only thing he needs is right in front of him.

seeing your face light up makes him feel nothing but nostalgic euphoria. he never wants to lose this feeling again.

“i’ll text you, then? you still have my number?”

he almost laughs in your face. your text conversation has been pinned to the top since the day you exchanged phone numbers.

“by heart.”

“tech? like you work in IT?” izuku’s face scrunches in disgust. he almost spits his drink out. “why the hell would you do that to yourself?”

“shut up!” you rub your face in your hands, snorting out a laugh. “it’s easy, i’m in a senior position, it pays well, and it’s remote. that’s all i care about for now.”

you two meet at a nearby bar. outside of his suit and tie, he looked much younger. he looks like the izuku you knew half a decade ago with his perpetual pink cheeks, slightly too large graphic tee, and red sneakers.

“so you’re now living with your sister… in the city.” he begins, looking into your eyes with a hopeful gleam. “for how long?”

“i’m not sure.” you shrug. “i’m still figuring it out, but my lease back home is up at the end of next month, so either way, i have to see what i want to do by then.”

“you should stay in the city.” the words slipped out of his mouth before he could process them.

“i mean- it’s just, you know, your sister is here, and her kids, and there’s more opportunities and stuff, and your work is remote anyways, and uh-” he stammers, words flowing out in an unstoppable stream.

“-and you’re here?” you tease.

his face flushes red.

“it is a possibility.” you sigh, shooting him a subtle smirk and saving him the embarrassment of coming up with a response. “i don’t know though. my sister wants me to stay too, but it’s a lot to think about.”

“i get it. my mom moved to the city to be near. it was hard for her.” he takes a sip of his drink. “not with me, though! she’s got a townhouse in the outskirts.” he quips.

you laugh. he definitely hasn't changed.

“speaking of, do you want to come back to my apartment? right now?” he shyly asks, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

“right now?” you look down and check the time displayed on your phone.

11:00pm.

“it’s a school night isn’t it?” you cock your head to the side. "i'm surprised you even wanted to meet up this late. thought i'd have to book office hours with you weeks in advance to catch up." you tease

izuku mentally curses at himself for being so forgetful, and so predictable. he doesn’t want this night with you to end, but that 7:00am alarm set for tomorrow morning is inching closer and closer.

“you’re right.” his confidence deflates. “i guess we should get going.”

you two pay your tab and make your way to the exit. you stand facing each other at the corner of the street, taking in each other’s presence once more.

there’s a faint buzzing in your ear from the lamppost hanging above you and your breaths come out in shallow puffs. you don’t know why you’re so nervous all of the sudden. you wish you didn’t have to leave again.

“so, can we do this again? can i see you again?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“you think i’d get to see izuku midoriya from beyond the grave and let you get away? for the second time?”

he feels like he could cry right now, so he pulls you in for a hug instead. you haven’t changed at all- not in the ways that matter anyways. his hand falls against the nape of your neck as he presses his cheek against your forehead.

“i missed you.” he mutters into your hair.

“me more.”

before you go your separate ways, i love you sits at the tip of his tongue. he wants to tell you. to finally say back after all of these years, but it somehow doesn’t feel right- not yet at least.

a few weeks later, you find yourself sitting in one of izuku’s classroom desks. the top button of his shirt is undone, his sleeves rolled up, and the soft late afternoon sunlight streaming through his window bathes him in gold.

from over your laptop screen, you see izuku mumbling to himself as he reads through essays while twirling a red pen between his fingers. the look of concentration had been plastered to his face since you were students- dark furrowed brows, unblinking eyes, a twinge of anxiety, and tightly pressed lips.

“you’re staring.” he mutters in between his incoherent mumbles.

his eyes snap up to meet yours.

“no i’m not.” you shrug, suppressing a satisfied smile as your eyes return to your own screen.

“I think i’ve gotten pretty good at noticing after spending all those years with you in that library.” he returns the smile, leaning back in his seat. “you don’t stare often, but when you do, you stare loud.”

“says you.” you roll your eyes. “you don’t think i ever noticed the thousand glances every hour?”

his face scrunches in embarrassment.

“not like i could help myself.” he mutters, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

“ditto.” you halfway close your laptop and rest your head on a propped elbow. “but you knew that.”

the air in the room thickens between you two. you’ve been itching to have a conversation with izuku about your last moments before you left the city 5 years ago, but there hasn’t been a good time to bring it up. you weren’t even sure if you should at all.

“i don’t think i ever noticed.”

“noticed what?”

“that you liked me.” he pressed his lips together, nervous to bring up the past. “like that at least. i didn’t have a clue before you took me to that party.”

“how could you?” you breathe out a chuckle. “you were drowning in your work and studies, there was no time to even sleep let alone have anything romantic.”

a beat of silence passes.

“sorry.” he mutters.

“don’t be.” you shrug. "i loved you enough for the both of us. you were my best friend, and i wouldn’t change anything. maybe i would’ve forced you to take more naps, though.” you chuckle.

he doesn’t like the past tense termage of this conversation. it makes him feel a bit nauseous thinking that he really did lose it all, even with you here in front of him.

“i told you i felt the same, didn’t i?”

“mmm.. i guess so.” you mutter. “but it’s different. it was a goodbye.”

“i’m sorry.” he says again, with a pout this time.

“stop that.” you launch your pen in his direction, bouncing off of the chalk board behind him. “i’m here now. you’re here. you’re still my best friend. everything’s the same, except we’re a little bit older and have 5 years to catch up on. isn’t that enough?”

you two danced around the conversation for a few more minutes before returning to your work in silence. there was no clear answer as to where your feelings for each other stand now, but he feels just as sick as he did the day of the grad party.

but isn’t that enough? to just have you here now?

on a saturday night in his apartment, just days before you have to go home and sort out your living situation, izuku tells you he loves you for the first time.

you’re staring at him, unsure if maybe you heard him wrong or if it was the television in the background.

“huh?” your mouth gapes open. “what’d you say?”

“i..i love you.” his voice shakes as the words leave his mouth. “i love you, okay?”

for a split second, there’s a sequence of images that flash through his mind. his body would learn to wake up at 6:55am every morning despite his alarm being set for 7:00am. he sees you peacefully sleeping next to him, and he can’t bring himself to let that alarm go off and disturb you.

he’d start the coffee pot- enough for two, obviously. maybe he’d leave a nice note for you to start your day off with. maybe a grocery list if you’re up for the trip, but you’d insist that you go to the market together on the weekend. you’re very distracting, and he knows this, but you’d somehow always meet at the dining room table or his classroom to do work together.

he’d come home to you softly singing in the kitchen while making dinner. every now and then, he’d surprise you with flowers when he comes home from work, but he’ll brush it off and say it’s “for the apartment” just out of pure nerves. movie nights. falling asleep on the couch together. waking up in the afternoon with a split second of panic- but it’s the weekend and he doesn’t have a class to get to. he’d see the sunlight pool against your face as you slowly wake up from your slumber with fluttering eyelashes. he’d kiss you in that unsuspecting moment. he’d say he loves you with every breath leaving his lungs. he’d always have time for you.

“izuku.” you sadly smile, turning over to the stove and extinguishing the flame. “you don’t have to do this, you know?”

his heart sinks to his stomach.

“i know- no it’s not like that.” he stammers. “it’s because.. i’m saying it because…”

he makes his way around the kitchen island to you, firmly gripping your shoulders. he wants to make sure you hear this from him properly. after all of these years.

“because i love you, and i think i alway have.” he bites his bottom lip. “and i think i always will, and you’re here, and i’m here, and i know it’s hard because i kind of really messed things up in university, but to be honest, i regret everything because yeah i love my job and i’m doing okay now, but i lost you for 5 years and thought i’d never get to see you again and i should've-”

he stops himself when he sees his reflection in your eyes. he’s doing it again- the rambling.

“sorry.” he mutters. “but do you…do you understand?” he almost pleads.

“i understand.” you nod your head, a long exhale following your reply.

for a moment, you’re 22 again, and the tears in his eyes threatening to spill over are no longer apologetic, but now hopeful.

you can’t help but pull him into a hug, running your hand up and down his back as he sniffs back his tears.

“always such a crybaby, izuku.” you muffle into his shoulder. “i love you, too. you know that.”

“i feel so stupid.” he chokes out. “5 years is so long, and i feel like i blacked out for the entirety of that time and now that you’re back, i’m alive and can't do it without you again.”

he pulls away, looking back at you with furrowed brows and tear stained cheeks.

“please stay in the city. please.”

your eyes widen at the request- the same request you wished left his lips all those years ago.

“you want me to stay?”

“selfishly, yes.” he bites down on his bottom lip. “here. with me.”

you take a moment and let your eyes wander around the apartment. you eye the half cooked dinner on the stove, the pile of unopened mail sitting on the counter, the row of dead plants lining the living room window.

izuku follows your eyes. he knows you’d settle in nicely, almost like the final piece in a puzzle. he feels it in his gut. he also feels the panic bubbling in his stomach the longer your gaze lingers at the chaos behind him.

“is that too fast?” he breaks the silence. “sorry. i don’t mean to jump from ‘i love you’ to ‘move in with me’ in the same night.” he awkwardly laughs, releasing you from his grip. “uh, maybe we’ll talk more about that after dinner.”

his face burns into a bright red- snapping out of his love dazed state and back into the reality where he just confessed to his best friend on a random night in.

“maybe after dinner, you can give me a proper tour of the place?”

for the first time in izuku's life, he feels content knowing that time passes and the world continues to turn.

with you, it feels a bit gentler.

with you, it's worth it.

bonus ssrryy i have to be indulgent lmao:

the first time izuku kisses you, you're on your way back from a late night outing from the bars with his coworkers where he introduces you as his partner for the first time.

"you sure you're okay?" he laughs as you rub your hand against the back of his neck from the passenger seat.

"super peachy, zuku." you hiccup, twirling a green curl between your fingers. "a few drinks got nothing on me."

izuku presses his lip into a wobbly smile.

from his peripheral, he feels your stare burning into his side profile, only making him more nervous by the second. he thinks about teasing you and calling it out for a moment, but he remains silent for the rest of the drive back home.

izuku parks the car, shutting off the engine and letting the overhead light dimly illuminated the space between you two.

he leans over to meet your eyes and rests his elbow over the center console, taking a second to silently debrief from the night's social outing.

"thanks for coming out with me." he whispers, reaching down and shyly interlocking his index finger with yours.

"i love a good excuse to drink." you laugh, leaning in and letting your foreheads connect.

izuku only had a single drink several hours ago, but he suddenly blacks out. with his other hands, he reaches up and tips your chin up and lock his lips with yours.

it takes you off guard, but you don't hesitate to reach up and rest your hand on the side of his neck.

when izuku pulls away, his breathing is heavy and face grows red. your finger remains interlocked.

"um. i love you." he coughs, briefly meeting your gaze before darting away. "uh, sorry i should have asked" he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"i love you, izuku midoriya." you say in a teasing tone, leaning further over the center console and into the driver's seat.

izuku leans away until his back hits the soft interior of the car door.

"uh, we should.. we should go in? right?" he starts, eyes widening as you inch closer.

you reach over and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him into you.

"yeah, we should." you say before crashing your lips into his, feeling him accept the defeat with a nervous laugh as he lets his hands find the soft skin of your cheek and warmth of your neck.

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