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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 years

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Copycat: Agent Zero —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Now is when the FUN STUFF begins !!! -Danny

Words: 3,431

Phase Four Masterlist

Previous chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘I Wanna Tell You’ -by Eli Lev

xxv: A Bunch Of ‘Ifs’

"Are you home?"

"Yeah, just got here."

"You busy?"

Cat hung her jacket next to the door and made her way to the living room. "What's going on, Pete?"

He took a deep breath. "We didn't get in."

"What? None of you?"

"No."

"What the fuck?" She scoffed. "That has to be illegal!"

"It's my fault, Cat..."

"No, of course it isn't..." she checked her watch. "Let's have lunch together, yes? My treat."

"You're broke, C."

"So what? You're broke too."

He let out a breathy chuckle. "I'll be there in twenty."

When Peter arrived he was carrying a pint of ice cream, it was their favorite.

"Come, tough guy..."

"Can I say something mean?"

"As long as it's not about me," she joked.

"It kinda is..."

"You hate Beck and you're glad I killed him?" She tried not to smile.

"Oh God, it sounds terrible... I'm so glad you said it."

Cat chuckled. "Anytime, buddy. Where's Ned?"

"He went to his place to tell his parents."

"MJ's still at work?" He nodded. "Here," she handed him a plate. "Enjoy."

Peter looked down at the sandwich in front of him. He laughed. "You remember!"

"You remembered the ice cream," she pointed out. "My friend Harley bought me a sandwich once— it fucking sucked. I was glad to discover not every sandwich was good, it meant ours were special. It's something silly but—"

"I don't think it's silly."

"Well, you're the same age I was then..."

"Ouch?"

"Eat your sandwich, boy."

Peter took a bite, he looked so young and innocent, Cat wanted to storm into the MIT and set it on fire. Tony had donated scholarships for the whole student body, and now they had the audacity to reject his best trainee!

"Tell you what. Fuck MIT, we'll find something better."

Peter swallowed the food and frowned. "Better than MIT?"

"Don't say it like that," she flicked his forehead. "But we'll worry about that later, today we eat sandwiches and ice cream, and I'll even sing karaoke with you. Let's forget about the world... until MJ's free and takes over."

Peter cleaned his mouth. "I'm here to ask you a favor, actually."

"Oh," she didn't know why Peter thinking of her as a resource instead of a shoulder to cry on disappointed her. "Yeah, sure. Tell me."

"Mysterio tricked us because he pretended to be from another reality, right?"

"Right."

"Well that might not be real, but magic is— actual magic," he leaned forward. "Why don't we use what Mysterio pretended to have?"

She tilted her head. "You wanna visit Strange?"

"Can you take me to him?"

"Why me? I know don't know him any better than you do."

"Yeah but you're older, so he won't dismiss my idea if you tag along?"

"I don't know... I'm not exactly a trustworthy gal right now, remember?"

"C'mon, C.C..."

"Your pouting won't convince me."

"I bought your favorite ice cream!"

"It's your favorite too!"

"I invited your crush to the party," he added, a shit-eating grin on his face. "And by the looks of it, you should be grateful."

Cat remembered the marks on her neck, she flicked him on the forehead again. "Have some respect for your superior!"

"The only superior thing about you is height," Peter laughed at her anger. "Okay, I'm sorry. But you can't tell me you're not glad I called Mr. Murdock yesterday, you guys look good together! A very handsome, mature couple."

"Thanks, but I'm still not dating Matt."

"Oh," he frowned, "really?"

"I don't know what he wants— I don't even know what I want from this... so yeah, baby steps." He looked disappointed, she didn't want him to think his efforts had been in vain. "What I'm saying is that we're just having fun... Jeez, I'm not sure we should be talking about this." She concluded flustered.

"It's fine," he reassured her.

"A tiny wee baby like you shouldn't be listening to my shenanigans—"

"Go to hell," Peter pushed her away laughing, she'd missed having a one-on-one chat with him.

Their domestic ways, the food breaks talking about everything at once. She was glad those hadn't changed much after all that'd happened. The little things, just like Harley had told her.

"Ugh— fine! Stop looking at me with your puppy eyes," she pushed her chair away from the table. "Let's pay Strange a visit."

Peter beamed. "Thank you."

A low meowing was heard from her window, they turned to see Felix and one of his friends enter her apartment.

"Oh, you have cats!" The boy went to greet them.

"Those aren't mine," she pointed out.

Peter stopped. "Oh."

"You can touch them if you want, they come here often. Felix more than the rest."

"Felix?" He questioned.

"The one that's rubbing against your leg like you dipped it in catnip."

The boy crouched and began scratching behind the creature's ears. "Do you know where they come from?"

"Most of them are stray," she picked up the other, a tabby cat that was also a regular visitor. "I don't know what attracts them, they act like I'm their mom."

"D'you think it has to do with your mutant genes?"

"Maybe," she shrugged.

"So this means you like them now, right?"

"I love them," Cat wasn't being sarcastic when she'd answered, the small felines had grown on her. "You should get one, they're really sweet."

"Can I take Felix?" He cooed, picking the animal by the armpits to kiss his forehead.

Cat frowned. "No."

"So how did MJ and Ned take the news?"

"Well, they said they don't blame me, and that we'll figure it out."

"I think we got lucky with the friends we got, I don't know what we would've done hadn't been for Ned and MJ."

"And Pietro."

The weather was cold, she didn't want to add "sad" to it. "Him too..."

Peter nudged her arm gently. "How are you holding up?"

She let out a chuckle. "I've been so busy that I haven't had the chance to sit and think about him. Matthew says we learn to live with our grief... I guess he's right, but I'm not there yet."

"Does he know you're Copycat?"

She grimaced. "I can't tell you why, but he met me as Copycat first."

"So he didn't have to go through the ordeal of finding out your identity?"

"Nothing but honesty between us."

"Is that why you like him?"

"Nah. I just think he's hot."

Peter snorted. "Tony would be proud."

"Going back to partners knowing the truth... MJ and Ned know how Pietro died? Does she even know his real name?"

"Yeah, she asked a few weeks ago," Peter stopped her from crossing the street, the light was green and she hadn't noticed. "Took her to his grave so she could say goodbye. I would've invited you but... I thought it'd put you through some unnecessary ache."

"You're right. I can talk about him with you cause you knew him... but to anyone else? It's impossible." Cat wrapped her jacket tighter around her body, she needed to get a new one but couldn't bring herself to throw away her brother's clothes.

"C, it's not even that cold..." Peter pointed out worryingly. "Let's get you a coffee—"

"I'm anxious. I always get cold when I'm this way."

"What?" He slowed his pace.

"It's fine, just keep walking."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, but it'd be best to change the subject, maybe."

"Er, sure," Peter looked around. "So Matt and you— was yesterday the first time something happened between you?"

Cat smiled a little. "It depends on what you consider as something."

"I'm talking about kissing... and stuff."

She snorted. "Yeah, it was the first time."

"I liked Kurt a lot. I get why he's your best friend."

"Really?"

"Yeah, straightforward and smart. Though his morals are far better than yours."

"Did he tell you how we found each other after all those years?"

"He was hunting you down," Peter grinned. "Makes sense that he's your best friend, sounds about right when it comes to you."

They spent the next thirty minutes talking about the party and jobs for Cat once this was all over. She was thinking of working as a bartender at Josie's since it would keep her afloat or maybe working as a security guard somewhere.

"Okay, question," Peter said, they'd almost reached Strange's home. "If the blip hadn't happened—"

"I hate those questions, Pete," she complained.

"Wait until I finish!" He pressed. "What career would you have studied?"

"I remember saying I would've liked to be a teacher..." She looked at the ground, deep in thought.

"What kind?"

"Elementary school," she couldn't help the laughter that left her. "You can't picture me working in a classroom full of children, right?"

He chuckled. "Doesn't really suit you now."

"What would?"

Peter tilted his head a little as if trying to place her somewhere in his mind. "Security sounds about right. Maybe a police officer?"

"Disgusting."

"A detective?"

"Now you're talking," she grinned. "I'd be a pretty good detective. I can change appearance at will, I know how to use every weapon on this planet, I speak multiple languages..."

"So you would've gone to Quantico," he said. "We would've seen each other once a month, maybe two..."

"Ned, MJ, and you would've developed some crazy project on your first semester and you'd be hoarding all the scholarships..."

"Tony and Happy would've bragged about you at every party..."

"C'mon, Tony liked you more than he ever liked me."

"Doubt that."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "I told Matt that the reason why I wanted to bring everyone back, was that you deserved to be the hero we all knew you could be." Peter stared at her, he smiled tearfully. "I needed you more than you needed me. These last few months had done nothing but confirm that."

"You don't know that for sure, Copy."

She laughed dryly. "You're right." They restarted their walk, but she decided to add a final note to their conversation. "I'm not happy, Peter, but sometimes I look back and feel lucky, that hadn't happened before. I have memories of sweet, innocent love, and that's gotten me through bad days..."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"I have a pretty good 'if' when it comes to you," she concluded.

"If?" He inquired without understanding.

"There is a timeline where Thanos never won. We grow up together, and we get that white picket fence and all the dogs."

"And cats," he added.

"And cats," she agreed.

The entrance was covered in a thick layer of snow. Two people were shoveling it off the floor but it wasn't making much of a difference.

"Hi? I'm uh..."

"The most famous person in the world," a man walked out of a portal with two suitcases and a bag. "I know. Wong. Try not to slip, we don't have liability insurance."

He walked through the portal again leaving the room for a moment, Peter moved forward carefully. "All this for a holiday party?"

"No," Wong walked back in, the portal closed behind him. "One of the rotunda gateways connects to Siberia— a blizzard blasted through."

"Remind me to call before visiting," Cat shivered.

"This isn't a constant recurrence here—"

"It happened because someone forgot to cast a monthly maintenance spell to keep the seals tight." Strange came flying down the stairs, stopping next to Wong.

"That's right. He did. Because he forgot I now have higher duties—"

"Higher duties?"

"The sorcerer supreme has higher duties, yes."

"Wait, we thought you were the sorcerer supreme," Peter pointed at Strange.

"No, he got it on a technicality because I blipped for five years..."

"Oh, well— congratulations!"

"If I'd been here then—"

"You would've burned the place down," Wong interrupted. "You two, no one said stop shoveling!" The man left to talk to the other two people.

"So, Peter and—" Strange tilted his head. "Copycat. Right?"

"Call me Cat."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Peter looked at her and she encouraged him to speak. "We're really sorry to bother you, Sir—"

"Please, we saved half of the universe together, I think we're beyond you calling me Sir."

"Okay. Uh... Stephen."

"...That feels weird but I'll allow it."

"Uh... when Mysterio revealed my identity... my entire life got screwed up and I was wondering if— I don't know if this would actually work but I was wondering if... maybe you could go back in time and make it so that he never did?"

Strange looked at them intently. "Peter... we tampered with the stability of space-time to resurrect countless lives— you wanna do it again now because yours got messy?"

"No, this isn't about me— I mean, this is really hurting a lot of people. My aunt May, Happy, my best friend, my girlfriend—"

"Oh yes, I saw that on the news," Strange looked at her. "How are you not in prison?"

"I've been hiding, thank you for asking," she replied. "But he's talking about someone else."

"Oh?" He frowned.

"Can we focus, please?" Peter interrupted. "My loved ones' lives got ruined just because they know me and Cat's a fugitive but she's done nothing wrong!"

"Shooting at someone until they're dead is doing something wrong."

"He almost killed Peter!"

"Look, I am so sorry, but even if I wanted to, I don't have the time stone anymore."

Peter took a moment to process it. "That's right..." he looked up again, with a feeble attempt of a smile. "I'm... really sorry if I wasted your time."

"No, you didn't," Strange told him with total sincerity.

"Just... forget about it."

Wong showed up again, he seemed to be going somewhere cause he had even more suitcases. "He will. He's very good at forgetting things."

"Wong," Strange pointed at him. "You've actually generated a good idea."

"What?"

"The runes, of Kof-Kol."

"The runes of Kof-Kol?" Peter asked in awe.

"What's that?" Cat inquired.

"Oh, it's just a standard spell of forgetting," Strange smiled. "Won't turn back time, but people will forget you were ever Spider-man."

"Seriously?"

"No. Not seriously," Wong interrupted. "That spell travels the dark borders between known and unknown reality. It's too dangerous."

Strange rolled his eyes. "We've used it for a lot less. Do you remember the full moon party at Kamar-Taj?"

"No?"

"Exactly."

The young heroes looked at the men expectantly.

"C'mon, Wong," Strange sighed. "Haven't they been through enough?"

Wong looked at them. "Just leave me out of this."

"Fine." Strange spoke to Copy. "He wants people to forget he's Spider-man, you'd like people to forget Copycat?"

"Not really," she shrugged. "I'll be alright."

"Well we're already here, I can help you if you want."

Cat thought about it. "Make them forget I killed Mysterio?"

"That'd be easy enough," he hummed. "Follow me."

She just had to stand there while Strange did all the work. When he finished, she stepped aside.

"That was easy," Peter had a weird expression on his face. "What?"

"Nothing... I just spaced out for a moment... are we doing the spell now?"

Cat looked back at Strange, he winked at her. "Good?"

Cat hadn't thought of leaving Peter out, she should've been more specific, but at least this way her name was clean, and Peter's burden of knowing she'd killed someone for him was all gone.

"So what is this place?"

"The Sanctum built at the intersection of cosmic energy currents. We weren't the first to seek them out. Some of these walls are thousands of years old— and they shot an episode of The Equalizer here in the 80s," he added with a grin.

"Well, I um— really appreciate you doing this for me, sir."

"Don't mention it... and don't call me sir," he smiled.

"Right. Sorry." Peter chuckled.

"You're a lot more fun than I remembered," Cat pointed out.

"Thank you?" Strange replied without looking away from the spell. "I'd say you're less annoying, but I'm not sure..."

"I'm annoying in a different way."

He looked at Peter. "You ready?"

"I'm ready."

"Nice knowing you, Spider-man."

"E-Excuse me?" Peter blinked.

"The entire world's about to forget that Peter Parker is Spider-man... Including me and Cat."

"What!"

"Everyone?" Peter approached Strange, Cat following close. "Uh— can't some people still know?"

"That's not how the spell works," Strange shook his head. "And it's very difficult and dangerous to change it mid-casting..."

"So my girlfriend's just gonna forget everything we've been through?" Peter asked. "I mean, is she even gonna be my girlfriend?"

"That depends, was she your girlfriend just because you were Spider-man, or..?"

"Well I mean, I don't know— I really hope not!"

"I don't wanna forget Peter! I'm just getting used to him again!" She complained.

"I don't want Cat to forget me, we just made peace!"

"All right, fine!" Strange started a new spell. "Everyone in the world is gonna forget that you're spider-man except your girlfriend and Copycat."

"Thank you so much— Oh my god, Ned! Ned!" Peter shook her shoulder.

"What is a Ned?" Strange frowned.

"He's my best friend so it's really important to me that Ned knows—"

"I mean, is he really that necessary?" Cat tilted her head.

"C!"

"You could just tell him later, what's the big deal?"

"He'd forget everything about the last few years of our lives! You want him to forget Pietro?"

"Oh," Cat frowned. "Yeah, he has to remember."

"Okay! Let's not change the parameters of this spell anymore while I'm casting it!"

"Okay, okay I'm done. I swear I'm done..." Peter grimaced. "But my aunt May should really know—"

"Peter stop tampering with the spell!" Strange warned him.

"When she found out I was it was really messy—"

"I still remember the screaming..." Cat agreed.

"Yeah, and I don't think I could go through that again... so my aunt May?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, thank you..." he looked at her. "Happy?"

"No, I'm annoyed," Strange replied.

"No, it's a nickname Harol 'Happy' Hogan— he used to work for Mr. Stark and he kinda adopted C.C. so he became sort of close with me too—"

"Could you stop talking?" The circles of spells around them began to quiver, Cat held onto the boy's arm.

"This doesn't look good—"

The floor cracked under her feet. Peter seized her just in time. Around them, walls began to disappear and gave way to some kind of purple dimension.

"Basically everyone that knew that I was spider-man before should still know!" The boy insisted.

Cat used her claws to hold onto him. He cried out in pain, but she managed to put one hand over his mouth. "Take it back, Strange! Take it back!"

The man pulled the circles of light, he compacted them until the floor and walls were back in place and the world was no longer shaking. The young heroes landed on solid ground and she let go of his face, Peter looked at her with hurt.

"Ouch."

She looked down at the scratches on his arm. "Sorry, I freaked out."

Peter looked at Strange. "Did it work?"

"No," Strange growled. "You changed my spell... six times..."

"Five times—"

"You changed my spell! You don't do that! I told you, and that is why!" He pointed at the rings. "The spell was completely out of control, if I hadn't shut it down something catastrophic could have happened!"

"Stephen listen, I am so so—"

"Call me sir!"

"...sorry, sir."

"Aaand you're back to being scary," Cat stepped back. "Okay, no one got hurt, right? We're sorry... man, that was terrifying."

Strange rubbed his forehead. "After everything we've been through together somehow I always forget you're just a kid... both of you."

Cat shifted her weight from one foot to the other, she wanted to object she wasn't a child but... Perhaps she was a child, at least whenever she was around her ex-boyfriend.

"Look, Parker, the problem is not Mysterio. It's you, trying to live two different lives— and the longer you do that, the more dangerous it becomes. Believe me. I'm so sorry about you and your friends not getting into college but if they rejected you and you tried to convince them to reconsider, there's nothing else you can do."

"When you say 'convince them'... you mean like I could've called them?" Peter frowned.

"Yeah."

"I could do that?"

Strange tilted his head. "You haven't called?"

"Well I mean I got their letter and I assumed that was—"

"I'm sorry," Strange moved the stone table aside. "Are you telling me that you didn't even think to plead your case with them first before you asked me to brainwash the entire world?"

Peter gulped. "Well, I mean when you put it like that—"

"Why didn't you stop him before coming here?" Strange looked at her threateningly.

"Perhaps I should start by saying I didn't finish high school, so I had no idea he could do that either?" she smiled guiltily.

Strange was done. "Get out— before I decide to brainwash you into forgetting you have superpowers cause you're a hazard to society!"

"Weren't you the one who decided that the best way to defeat Thanos was by killing half of the universe first?"

Strange lifted his hand and closed it as if he wanted to strangle her. "Out!"

"At least we got my problem fixed..."

"What? What problem?"

"Nevermind that," she smiled. "Are you gonna call MIT?"

He began searching through his contacts. "Hey, Cat, thank you so much for coming, you didn't have to..."

"No, I'm actually grateful you called, it's nice to know you still trust me as a friend and as Copycat."

"We're a team, right?" He smiled.

"Totally. Anyway, good luck with your stuff, I should get back to mine," she wrinkled her nose. "I need to look for a job."

"See ya!"

Her phone buzzed and she checked her texts. It was Matthew. She smiled and put her phone away without replying. Copycat was free to roam the city.

The blue and white suit covered her body, and the mask concealed her face. Cat changed her hair from brown to silver, and her eyes turned purple.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @jesuswasnotawhiteman @siriuslysirius1107 @greengarsstuff @itsyagirl01 @23victoria @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #copycat fic

4 notes · View notes

trans-earthworm · 1 month

Note

I mean, needle fears are a completely different situation from disqualifying conditions. I am literally not allowed to give blood, nor are many of my friends and partners. It doesn't matter how much stress it is to book because they will not let us donate. Ever. That's not something I can do anything about, and it's frankly deeply frustrating. Every time this topic comes up I get lectured about how important it is and how there's a shortage and how I need to just get over whatever's stopping me, when what's stopping me and people like me is the fucking blood services' requirements.

fascinating that the opinion "if you can give blood, you should" is consistently met with different explanations about why you cant donate blood. okay. i believe you. im not going to ask you prove that to me in tumblr.lawcourt. you cant donate blood. some people cant donate blood for neutral reasons and for bad reasons. thats a different conversation. because, if you'll read the original opinion again you may notice that, this opinion comes with the qualifier "if you can give blood". you cant give blood. this isnt about you. if you believe that the reasons you cant give blood are wrong (many such cases), write your local blood center or appropriate representative. since you'd like to have an entirely different conversation than "if you can give blood, you should":

you are making the case that one should not advocate for people (who are able) to do a good thing because some people are not able to do that thing. if you actually give a shit about being wrongly excluded from giving blood, youre going to get a lot further working with the people who harp on about donating than getting pissy because believe it or not, the people who harp on about donating want more people to donate. we want it to be more accessible. we would also like for you not to be excluded for bad reasons.

you can have whatever feelings you like but im going to keep advocating for people WHO ARE ABLE TO to donate blood and learn cpr and practice the fire route in their building at least once and keep a geographically relevant disater kit and other mundane shit that will hopefully never be too significant but could be the difference between living and dying for you and others in a crisis. and i cant even say i have all of that because im in my early 20s and im broke and just a little burnt out but i still try where i can. probably only a firefighter has that actual whole list down. but especially with blood, it does a lot a good with or without a crisis and its the easiest one 🚨(for people who are able to donate)🚨.

i hate that so many people are wrongly excluded but if my tumblr post is enough to get one person who is able to donate to make one appointment, thats a win because that pint does some good. if it gets someone who cant donate unjustly to do something to organize to fix that, even better because thats a step towards even more pints.

if you disagree with any of this block me but youre going to hear people advocating for blood donations for the rest of your life because blood donations are an essential part of modern science and medicine. if you cant donate, nothing they say applies.

tldr: if you can donate blood, you should. if you cant for whatever reason - legal, personal, geographical, medical, physical, psychological, fucking time managememt, right or wrong - that sentence does not apply to you. this isnt about you. stfu.

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prose-for-hire · 4 years

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Vampires Suck

Pairing: Spike x reader (gender not mentioned)

Request: not requested. I couldn’t sleep and this was the result. In my fictional land anyone can give blood (mlm and anaemic people included). This fic includes a magical loophole where (chipped) Spike can bite so long as the human agrees.

Warning: Biting. Blood. Swearing. Very heated kissing. Sex references. Reader smokes a cigarette.

A/n: Moral of the story is, give blood. You never know who might need it ;)

You had always given blood regularly. Since you were old enough you went and gave a pint of the red stuff. Not just for your free snack after. It was just a part of your life now. However, you never realised that the blood you had donated might have gone to someone looking for their own kind of snack.

It was dark out, you had only been able to come for your appointment in the evening. You had been outside waiting, you had come too early again. You didn’t want to go in yet or face the miserable receptionist who made it her mission to make you feel unwelcome in the cheeriest way possible every time you came here.

You were stood in the parking lot of the medical centre as you started to hear a rustling sound. You turned and the parked donation van was moving and someone was cursing loudly from inside. You frowned, deciding to investigate.

You walked over to the van and opened on of the doors to find a man trashing the area. It was the type of van that could allow for someone to give blood in there should it be full in the centre.

The man had slicked back, bleach blonde hair, he was painfully attractive and he was holding an empty blood bag and staring straight at you.

“Uh, are you okay?” You inquired.

“Does it sodding look like it? All out of the good stuff in here only got the fancy gourmet kind”

“What?”

“Talking blood. Y’know, kind that gives you life... makes you hard” He said as if it was obvious.

“Right. Yeah. I’m going to go now” you shook your head in disbelief. He was certifiable and you had just made it your problem.

You walked back to your waiting spot and hoped he wouldn’t follow you. The noises coming from the van stopped, he was thinking. And now he was coming your way. Perfect.

He stood for a moment, looking you up and down before shrugging to himself and taking something out of the inside pocket of his leather duster.

“Cigarette, love?”

“Probably shouldn’t. I have an appointment soon”

“Don’t make it taste much different. Kind of... smoked I suppose”

You just stared for a moment and took the cigarette he was still waving in front of your face. If anything it was to shut him up.

He smirked as he handed you his lighter and you lit the smoke and inhaled. That receptionist was going to have a field day when she smelled it on you. She wouldn’t know which disapproving expression to use first.

“Do you have an appointment too or are you just on day release?” You asked and he actually snorted at the question, almost choking on the smoke. He was enjoying this interaction.

“Just looking for blood as I said” He explained before inhaling again. It was often easier to just loot a blood bank, charming someone into agreeing to give him their blood could take effort that often wasn’t worth it.

“Why?”

“Guess” He said and you sighed, but bit.

“You’re a vampire” you said without missing a beat. It was the lamest thing that you could think of.

“That was quick” he said actually surprised, “Bloody Drac” he then muttered realising it was probably his fault you had guessed so quick.

“Funny” you mumbled through the filter as you inhaled the thick smoke into your lungs. You weren’t convinced in the slightest.

“No, really”

“If you were a vampire you wouldn’t tell me unless you were gonna-“

“Go on” His eyes glinted dangerously as he gestured with his head.

“I think it’s time for my appointment, thanks for the smoke” You rushed the words out, crushing the cigarette under your feet. The hairs on the back of your neck had started to stand on end, you stared at the entrance to the centre but didn’t move fast enough. As if you were willing him to stop you.

And he did as you took a step away. He grabbed your arm and pulled you back. He was strong. Crap.

“Hear me out, love”

“Get off my arm, idiot” he did let go very slowly. He was starting to really like you. You were kind of rude but in a fun way. And you were extremely attractive to him. Which is how he came to his proposition.

“Won’t take nearly as much as those leeches in there would and I’d treat you to better than a cookie” he raised an eyebrow to try and entice you further.

“There’s no way that you could be a-” You started but you watched as his face shifted briefly. Fangs protruded from his mouth, his forehead bunched and ridged at the centre, “-holy fucking shit!”

“Yeah, right. Come here” he was interested to note you weren’t scared, just trying to process a lot at once. He was also hungry so he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you back up into the back of the van and slammed the doors closed behind you, “I need you to agree” He said as he sat you down on a swivel chair.

“You want me to sign a fucking consent form before you drain me of my life?! What is this some new-age vampire shit?”

“I’m hungry, your blood is at least half-decent and you’re all I’ve got”

“What’s in it for me?” You squinted.

“The eternal gratitude of a man that will actually live for ever”

“Doesn’t mean anything if I won’t be alive to feel the gratitude”

“Bloody-“ You were irritating him, you had an answer for everything, “look, I can’t bite unless someone agrees to it. I’ll take a pint, maybe less. You’ll get something from it too, I promise”

“Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, but pain and pleasure kind of go hand in hand, right love?”

You smiled slightly at that and he smirked even more. He had definitely picked the right one. To think he was gonna try and charm that cow of a receptionist again in his desperation.

You made up your mind. What did you have to lose?

“So you-?” He pressed.

“Agree. Consent. Go for it” you offered with a shrug so he could take his pick. You really weren’t sure why he needed it. His face instantly shifted. His demeanour darkening. It was only as frightening as it was hot. Or, that’s what you told yourself. You weren’t convinced he was going to make it as good for you. You came here expecting a small pinch and a bravery sticker, maybe a biscuit. So, anything more than that would just be a bonus. You tended not to get your hopes up to avoid disappointment.

You didn’t realise you were about to be pleasantly surprised. Very pleasantly surprised.

He sat on the seat beside you, he leaned into you, pulling your chair from underneath and dragging it towards him. He jerked your head to the side. His fangs protruding from his mouth and you closed your eyes.

He didn’t hesitate, his teeth sunk into the soft skin on the left side of your neck. He pierced your skin, making sure it was deep. His jaw locked around your neck. He retracted his teeth only slightly and allowed your blood to start to run before he began to suck on your neck.

You hissed as he had penetrated your skin. It stung at first before it started to melt away. The dull ache in your neck still there but it gave way to a much richer feeling. Euphoria.

The sensation of him sucking the blood from your wound felt insanely good. Your head started to roll back, you didn’t notice the way he firmly grasped the back of your skull. Your head moving further to the side. For deeper purchase on your neck and for your comfort. You were lost in this feeling. It was nothing you had ever felt. Pure ecstasy. It felt so good you didn’t know whether to touch yourself or him.

He drank deep, taking you in completely. Your hands started to move, your fingers crawling up his back in desperation. Willing him to drink deeper. Harder.

Your nails started to drag down his back, he enjoyed this sensation you could tell. You wanted him closer, everything about him enticed you no matter how much danger you felt you were in. Your brain was screaming and you couldn’t figure out how much of it was fear and how much was pure desire.

Your breathing was heavy and you didn’t care about anything anymore. Only him. His touch. The way his mouth felt. His smell was so delicious you weren’t sure if you weren’t going to snap and start biting him in return.

He really didn’t want to stop, your blood was the sweetest he had ever tasted. Nectar of the Gods. Your heightened arousal was affecting him too, he could taste it it was so strong. He just about managed to unlatch his fangs from your neck before he rounded into headache territory.

But he couldn’t let go of you. Usually this was transactional for him, even amusing to watch the human in their desire.

But he wanted more of you. To soak up every drop. He didn’t question it. Why this stranger made his head almost as dizzy with want as theirs. He no longer knew where your arousal ended and his began. But he didn’t think about it. He just enjoyed it.

His mouth met yours roughly, his hands were everywhere at once and you desperately missed the way his mouth felt against your neck. You kissed him with such passion, writhing against him. You wanted him inside you just like he now had you in him. Coursing around his veins.

His kiss was hot, urgent. And you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. You started to fumble to unbuckle his belt for him but he took your wrists and restrained you, pushing you against the side of the van. Your back pressed hard against the wall. He assaulted your mouth instead, the metallic taste of your own blood mixed with saliva.

He had you there, in your mind he could do anything to you and you would have taken it gladly.

Your face was covered in your own blood, he enjoyed the sight. That he had done this. Even that you had wanted him to.

He moved, kissing down to your neck where the bite mark was still fresh. There was still some residual liquid that he caught on his tongue. He lapped at the wound lightly and you moaned into his ear making him smirk. He wanted to play that sound over and over in his mind. He kissed back up to your mouth He was almost struggling keeping your wrists at bay. Almost found it cute you were trying to struggle against him. He caught your mouth several times, your lips the best he had ever felt against his. He was enjoying this too much for something that he expected to last a mere moment. He was hungry for you in such an innate way.

You started to slow your movements, becoming exhausted.

He slowly felt the come down of your arousal approaching. He cursed it, wishing it wouldn’t. He was having too much fun. But you might want to leave it there and he was going to give you that choice. I mean, he wasn’t a complete animal.

He stepped away and you whined. You slid down the wall as he let you go, he had been the only thing keeping you up. He just stared as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. His eyes boring into you. You felt so exposed.

You managed to slide to sit in the seat you had started in. You fought to slow your breathing down, wiping your own blood from your face as he watched you come down from the euphoria.

You now felt a little embarrassed as his eyes wouldn’t leave your form. He didn’t even seem to blink. He had stepped back from you, as if he couldn’t trust continuing to be in such proximity. You definitely hadn’t planned on doing what you had just done and he knew it. Which is why against his better judgement he had held you still.

“I-“

“Hope it was as good for you as it was for me” he smirked, starting to turn to the doors and leave the van with you still trying to form words. The wound on your neck was throbbing, but you knew you would have done it over again.

“I-“

“Yeah?”

“Don’t know your name”

“Spike” he said, offering his hand to you to help you out of the truck too. You were a bit wobbly getting onto your feet, which he was expecting. You were surprised he hadn’t left you there. To be fair, in the past he usually would.

You started walking away from the medical centre, with him by your side. You were still in a daze and he wasn’t that much far gone from being a gentleman he wouldn’t walk you partly where you needed to be (so long as it wasn’t out of his way).

“Maybe we could make it a regular thing” he posed the question innocently but there was a devilish look in his eye. You acted as if you were thinking about it. Truthfully, your mind was screaming out yes. He waited, he for some reason actually cared for the answer.

“You’d have to buy me dinner first this time” you warned but smiled as his own lips tugged into a small half-smirk.

“It’s a date”

#Spike #Spike btvs #Spike x reader #Spike imagine #Spike x you #btvs #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #btvs x reader #btvs x you #btvs imagine #gender neutral #gender not mentioned #tw blood #tw biting

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ughseoks · 5 years

Text

syncope | ksj

— pairing; seokjin x reader

— genre; fluff, a little angst

— word count; 2.4k

— warnings; description of blood being drawn, needles, fainting, unedited, jin is a sweetheart

— summary; you decided to donate blood for the first time, and your nurse is... really cute, to put it nicely. it’s just too bad you had to go and embarrass yourself by fainting in his arms.

“Syncope is a temporary loss of consciousness usually related to insufficient blood flow to the brain. It's also called fainting or ‘passing out.’“

— masterlist —

“Is this your first time donating?”

If it weren’t for your nerves about the impending procedure you’d agreed to for reasons unknown to even you, you would most definitely have been a melted puddle at the feet of the nurse— no, god— currently looking down at you.

“Um..” He looked at you expectantly, but not unkindly, as you took slightly too long to answer the very simple question he’d asked, “Y-yeah, yes. This is my first time donating.”

“Well, Ms…” he glanced down at the clipboard in his hands to find your name before smiling up at you reassuringly, almost as if he could tell how nervous you were, “Y/N, my name is Jin, and there’s nothing to worry about. If you have any questions about the process, don’t hesitate to ask. I want you to be as comfortable as possible.”

You gave him a small smile as an answer, shifting uncomfortably in the bed you’d been instructed to sit in after checking in and filling out an assessment to confirm that you were able to donate. You weren’t scared of needles (you had no issues with getting your annual immunizations, unlike your scaredy-cat of a brother Hoseok), but the mere thought of draining your body of an entire pint of blood was enough to give you the heebie jeebies.

“Squeeze this three times, then continue to hold it tightly.” He placed a red stress ball in your palm after propping your arm up, his hand hovering slightly over yours until your fingers grasped the ball firmly. He then wrapped a blood pressure cuff around your bicep, inflating it until it was tight, but not painful.

“Too tight?”

You shook your head no. Humming in acknowledgement, the raven-haired nurse then began to gently feel the inside of your elbow with his fingers, attempting to find the vein he would stick. “Don’t move your arm,” he warned when he finally found it, keeping one of his hands on your forearm to prevent you from wiggling while the other held up a small white stick.

“What’s that for?” you blurted out, eyes wide as you stared at the foreign object.

“I’m gonna use it to mark where your vein is,” he explained with a smile before pressing it firmly in a dotting motion down said vein. “I’m going to clean the injection site now. If your skin becomes irritated, make sure to write it down for the next time you donate. You can tell the nurse that you’re allergic, and they’ll use a different type of antiseptic so you won’t have a reaction.”

“Are you going to stick the needle in after you clean it?”

“Yes,” he turned to throw away the used pad, quickly taping a long, small tube to your wrist when he faced you once again, “It might sting at first, but the burn should go away fairly quickly. Let me know if it doesn’t, okay?”

Gulping, you looked away as he lined up the needle with your arm. A grimace twisted your features when he pushed it in (that’s what she said), a sharp pinch followed by burning radiating from the site where he stuck you.

“You okay?” Jin asked, pressing lightly on the needle to make sure it was placed correctly.

“Y-yeah,” you exhaled slowly, trying to calm your breathing. Within a few seconds, the burn began to subside, just like he’d mentioned earlier.

“Awesome. If you start to feel faint, just call me over and we’ll get it sorted out. Any questions?”

You shook your head no once again, and an encouraging smile lit up his soft features. “You’re doing great, Y/N. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“Hold your arm up for me?”

You held up your arm perpendicular to the floor, pressing the cotton pad onto your inner elbow like Jin had instructed you to do while he turned around to cut off a section of bandage for you. The actual blood-drawing ordeal had been over within a matter of minutes, and you were surprised by how quickly the time had passed.

“Okay, you can set it back down now.” You complied, removing your hand to allow him to bandage up the small injection site with a brightly colored wrap. “You can remove this after around two hours. Take a minute to finish drinking that, and then we can move you out to the lobby. You’ll have to wait about 15 minutes before you can leave once you’re out there, just so we can make sure you don’t faint.”

After finishing off the drink they’d given you, you gave Jin a small wave, flashing him a smile when he took the empty can from your hands to set it out of the way. “Feeling good enough to make it to the lobby?”

“Yeah, I think I’m fine now,” you answered honestly. Sure, you felt a little tired, and your stomach was slightly queasy, but you could definitely make it out of the room and down the hallway.

“Sit up slowly for me, alright?” You complied with his request, carefully swinging your legs over the side of the bed while he watched attentively.

You made it about four steps on your own before all hell broke loose.

The ground began to sway beneath you, your feet fighting to take even one more step forward. It felt like somebody had thrown a weighted blanket over your head. You struggled to stay upright as black stole away the corners of your sight, the dark gradient quickly spreading across your field of vision. Something was tugging at your consciousness, attempting to pull you under the dark waters even as you fought to stay afloat. Everything around you was muffled, with a slight static quality to it— you noticed it when Jin began to speak to you.

“Are you okay?”

You were too out of it to register the question properly or formulate a coherent answer, so you did your best to convey the way you were feeling whilst sticking your arms out for balance. “Uhhhhhhhhh…”

“Okay, come over here, lay back down for me—” His voice stopped registering in your mind halfway through his sentence, his gentle grip on your arm the only thing guiding you to follow his instructions.

The tugging became more incessant; it felt like the unknown force was pulling at the string to your soul, rendering your desperate attempts to stay conscious useless. You’d never felt anything like this before. It wasn’t like when you drift off in class or stand up too quickly; it was as if you were losing touch with reality, death knocking on your front door.

You managed to clamber back onto the bed, your vision returning to you once you’d laid down for a few seconds. The voices of the nurses were still muffled as they gave you gentle instructions to lift your feet up so they could elevate them, and you blinked with force a few times in an attempt to fully regain your senses.

“This might be a little chilly,” you recognized Jin’s voice as he lifted the front of your shirt slightly, slipping an ice pack into it so it would rest on your chest. The quick temperature change gave you something to focus on, and when Jin spoke up again, his voice was clear in your mind instead of muffled like before.

“Can you sip on this for me?” he asked gently, setting down another can with a straw next to your head. You nodded yes, reaching over to hold the can still as you wrapped your lips around the straw carefully.

The following minutes consisted of occasional reminders to continue moving your legs and gentle touches on your shoulders accompanied by questions of “Feeling better?” Jin was usually the one asking, and deep down, you felt a little guilty. Realistically, you knew that he’d dealt with situations like this many times before, but you still felt like you were inconveniencing him and the rest of the staff.

After what seemed like a thousand years, he gently lifted the back of the bed into a raised seat position, allowing you to move into an upright position more easily. “We’re gonna try this again. Move as slowly as you can. I’ll help you out if you need me to.”

Nodding, you began to swing your legs over the side of the bed once again. Apparently, it was still too fast for his liking, because he gently grabbed your legs and moved them at the pace he saw fit, murmuring “Easy, easy,” gently beneath his breath.

Carefully placing your feet onto the ground below, you gradually placed your weight on them, nervous that the ground would start to sway like it had before. Much to your relief, all you felt was a slight dizziness; nothing compared to what you’d felt earlier.

When you looked back up, Jin was staring down into your eyes, his gaze flitting around your face to check for any sign of unwellness before he smiled and nodded towards the doorway. “Follow me and let me know if you start to feel faint again.”

You smiled gratefully at him, following him slowly out into the hallway and towards a set of fluffy chairs. When you took a seat, he handed you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, instructing you to snack on it while you waited.

“Do you think you can drive yourself?” A different nurse kindly asked, roughly fifteen minutes after you’d sat down. Your immediate reaction is to say yes, but after a second thought, you realize it might not be a great idea.

“I’m not sure,” you admit sheepishly, “I can see if my brother Hoseok can come and pick me up, but he’s at work, so it might be a little while—”

“Wait, Hoseok as in Jung Hoseok?” Your head whipped towards the sound of Jin’s voice a few steps away from you. He was escorting a middle aged man towards the seating area, just like he’d done with you a few minutes ago (although the man seemed to be in much better shape than you’d been in).

“Yeah, you know him?” You were a little surprised, but not shocked. After all, being the social butterfly he was, your brother seemed to know pretty much everyone in town.

“He’s pretty close with a few of my buddies,” Jin explained with a smile on his face, “Now that I think about it, I actually owe him a favor or two. Want me to give you a ride home?”

“O-oh, I couldn’t ask you to do that,” you waved your hands wildly in front of yourself, “I’m fine with waiting here for a little longer.”

“It’s no trouble, I promise. My shift is over in five anyways.”

“If you’re really sure…” you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly, thankful for his offer but still feeling a little guilty accepting it.

“I am. Let me go pack up and we can get out of here.”

Twenty minutes later, you were walking up the steps to your house with Jin by your side (he’d insisted on walking you to the door) when a previously unconsidered issue popped into your head. “Oh, I almost forgot! What are we going to do about my car? It’s still back in the parking lot.”

Jin stopped walking, taking a minute to consider before speaking up. “I work another shift in the morning, so if you don’t mind getting up a little early, I can swing by here and take you with me.”

“T-that works for me.” A look of confusion crossed your face when he held out his phone to you.

“If it’s okay with you, I can text you when I get here in the morning?” You nodded enthusiastically, quickly typing your number into the empty contact before sliding his phone back into his hands.

“See you tomorrow,” he grinned, throwing you a thumbs up before you shut the door behind you.

Unknown, 7:38am: hey! this is jin, the handsome nurse who took you home last night in a very platonic and non-romantic way. i’m parked outside ;)

Throwing on your hoodie and snatching your keys from the entryway table, you quickly locked the door behind you and scrambled into Jin’s car, ignoring the way he chuckled at your flustered state. The ride back to your car went by in a comfortable silence, the two of you sneaking glances at each other when you didn’t think they were looking.

Was Jin this attractive yesterday? Surely not. The morning sun was shining through the windshield, causing his raven hair to sparkle and his plump lips to shimmer in the light. His long lashes brushed his cheeks every time he blinked, making your heart beat a little faster with each passing moment.

You were startled out of your thoughts when the car was put in park, a small smirk present on his face when you realized he’d caught you staring.

“Uh-umm,” you stuttered, heat rushing towards your cheeks, “Thanks for the, uh, the ride.”

You scrambled to let yourself out of his vehicle when he gently grasped your wrist, a glint of mischief in his eye when you visibly gulped at the contact.

“Are you free this evening?”

“H-huh?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion.

“If you don’t have any plans, I’d like to take you out,” he explained with a wink, “Apologies if I’m being too forward. You’re just really cute, and if you’re anything like Hoseok, I can see us getting along really well.”

“Wow, you sure know how to charm a girl, comparing her to her brother while trying to ask her on a date,” you managed to tease slightly, giggling when his eyes widened by a fraction. “I’d love to go out with you tonight.”

“Alright, I’ll text you later to set a time, if that’s okay?” There was a slight blush on his cheeks, contradicting the confident persona he’d put on not even five minutes beforehand.

“Sounds like a plan,” you grinned, giving him a small wave before shutting the car door and making your way towards your own vehicle.

Who knew that fainting in front of the cute nurse would be the best accidental decision you’d ever made?

a/n; wrote this after i donated blood and was 0.2 seconds away from fainting. fun!!!! anyways i’m a slut for nurse!jin and i always will be so yeah (sorry i feel like the end of this is really shitty but i was struggling to finish it so take what u get and dont throw a fit ok)

— masterlist —

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doctorguilty · 4 years

Text

Ok I'm gonna get real for a sec I've actually always really wanted to paint with my blood but I worry about scaring people, most people I casually brought it up to said it sounded like a negative self harm thing...

I don't see it that way. It's more about making a physical piece of art as personal as it can get, giving it life. I don't see the act of bleeding intrinsically negative, what's the difference between bleeding a pint of blood to donate, and bleeding a little jar of blood to paint with? Is bleeding only okay when it's for another person? My body should only be shared if it's to help someone else? The implication haunts me.

In fact, I even see a big difference in, say, my impulse to self harm because I feel like there's no other choice to calm myself, versus bleeding on purpose to paint a vent art with. The latter is a conscious choice, and art is a healthy way to express your feelings. That would just be ... the choice to use my medium. It's not an act of punishment or suicide.

There's few ways someone can give someone else a piece if their body or... give themselves a piece to preserve. Blood is replaceable.. you make more all the time. I don't see the big deal.

Mutuals what are your thoughts? Am I just crazy?

#seth speaks

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evanstanhoney · 6 years

Text

Priorities//Badboy!Shawn

a/n: this is a new concept i’m playing around with. let me know if you want more of this universe? i kinda like it, it’s right up my peaky blinders alley lol. also sorry for the title.

summary: you're having a mini emergency, and shawn lets you know that no matter how crazy his life is, you will always be his number one.

⚠️warnings: fluff, mentions of illegal activity

word count: 1.3k

You and Shawn were pretty independent in your relationship. You each had your own separate lives (Shawn's far more exciting than yours) and you respected that. There was no checking up on each other, or checking the other phone when one of you got home late. Your relationship was built on nothing but trust and respect for one other. That's not to say you didn’t worry, because of course, you did, but you never let that get the best of you or get in between your relationship. As long as he came back to you at the end of the day, you were fine.

But you had a shitty day. A really shitty day, and for the first time in the entire time you’ve been together you were blowing up his phone waiting for him to call. You were a little needy and wanted your big bad boyfriend to make it all better. After call number three, on the second ring, he finally picked up.

“Honey is everything okay, I’m working?”

You instantly felt guilty. Shawn working and another person's idea of working were two different things entirely. When Shawn was ‘working’ that meant he needed to focus, and whatever it was he was doing needed his undivided attention or someone could get hurt.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry -” you ramble, ready to hang up the phone. You can hear him excuse himself before he’s back on the phone with you.

“No, you’re not. You never call me like this.”

“It’s nothing, you’re working Brian probably -”

“Honey.” he’s got that tone in his voice. The one that makes you weak in the knees and has your heart pounding out of your chest.

God everything about him screamed danger, but fuck did you love him for it.

“I just had a shitty day and I hadn’t seen you and...just - I want to see you.”

“Did someone do something?” He nearly growls into the phone.

Even if someone did do something, you wouldn’t tell him. You’d made that excuse once and you swore you’d never do it again. Although part of you enjoyed knowing he’d do anything to protect you, even if it wasn’t necessarily socially acceptable.

“What, no! Everything is fine, it’s just stupid school stuff.”

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll wrap things up here and then I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

“Are you sure? I can wait until you’re done.”

“I’ll be home in about twenty minutes, okay?” you nod your head forgetting that he can’t see you “Honey?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see you.”

The moment you hang up the phone you instantly feel a weight lifted off of your chest. You feel so silly for it and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out just why you were feeling particularly needy today but knowing that Shawn was on his way to you calmed you down.

Having him home always calms you down. So often you didn’t know where he was, all you knew was that it was dangerous if you ever knew which only meant it was dangerous for him.

You’re at the refrigerator, looking at the contents as if you’d be able to get inspiration and make a meal out of eggs and a few cups of greek yogurt. You felt two strong arms around your waist and you jumped, but instantly relaxed when you smelled the familiar scent of cologne and leather.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” he lets out a little chuckle but behind his eyes, it’s all business. When it came to you and your happiness, he was always business. “What’s going on?”

You open up the freezer and opt for a pint of ice cream, taking a spoon from the drawer and hopping onto the kitchen counter. “You’re going to laugh when I tell you.”

He moves towards you on the other side of the kitchen, standing between your legs, hands resting on your thighs, “No I won’t. I promise.”

“I went to register for classes today and uh...the one class I need to graduate is full. I went to my advisor but she said there's nothing she can do.” You go on to explain the rest of the fiasco that was your time spent in the advising office, and how everything would be pushed back. You were working yourself up into a huge frenzy and when you finally stopped to look away from your ice cream at Shawn you see the exact opposite of what you expected splashed across his face.

“Why are you smiling, Shawn this isn’t good.” You ask around another spoonful of ice cream, and he only lets out another chuckle “this isn’t funny. My life is falling apart here.”

“Your life's not falling apart.” he shakes his head. He looks down at the pint of ice cream in your hands, opening his mouth and you feed him a scoop of his own.

“I just love hearing you talk about school. You're so smart you know that? Makes me wonder what you’re doing with the likes of me.”

“I’m going through a phase.” you quote, your mother rolling your eyes. It’s meant to be light-hearted but you see his shoulders slouch a little. “Hey, I’m kidding. I love you. You know that.”

And he does, its just that it's hard for him to believe it sometimes when he’s reminded that he’s nowhere near where you are in life. He’s never gotten a formal education past high school, he has no other real talents, aside from guitar and singing (which, how far can that really get anyone), all he knows how to do is outlaw. But at least he’s damn good at it.

“What is it that I pulled you away from anyway?” you quip genuinely curious.

“How much do you want to know this time?” He asks with a sigh, signaling for another scoop of ice cream and you spoon it to him.

“Ummm….20%.”

“It was mainly just a fight. We were discussing how we’re going to clean some of the money from the last job. We’ve got a shit ton of jewelry that we’ve got to get rid of, but none of our connections are buying. Too ‘risky’ they said.” He rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth “I told them we should find another job in the first place.”

The last job he and the boys pulled was pretty public. You never heard about the jobs, if anything there would be a small segment on the news, but it would be for one night and then it would be over. The last one though was a media circus, for nearly a week. Nothing was ever able to come back to them and everything turned out to be okay. The police got an anonymous tip and a generous donation and they looked the other way.

That was the first time you were ever really scared for Shawn.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called. I didn’t realize things were that bad, you have bigger things to worry about then my schedule.”

“No. Of course, I’m here. You're always going to be my number one.”

“Even when things are going to shit?”

“Especially when things are going to shit.” he smiles, cradling your face in his large hands, “if I didn’t have you I’d be going absolutely mental.” he stops for a moment, really taking in every inch of your face, “You’re my everything babe.”

“My badass outlaw boyfriend really got it bad for me. The guys know you’re this soft?”

“Shut up.” he giggles bringing you in for a sticky kiss that tastes like caramel and chocolate.

masterlist // tell me what you think? // requests? // wattpad // ao3

#my writing #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes writing #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes prompts #shawn mendes concepts #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes aus #badboy!shawn #outlaw!shawn #gang!shawn #kinda #more organized crime than anything

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maxineswritingcenter · 5 years

Text

Hunting Dreams

@laphirablack : Okay, angsty request ahead. Could you do one shot of dean x reader where she lives the whole hunting things, saving people, family business, with Dean, just to wake up and realize that she was in a coma for a while and everything was a dream.

Awh shit, here we go again

-------------------------------------------------

"Ma'am?" The very handsome FBI agent, Dean Smith waved his hand in front of (Y/N)'s face. She had been too distracted by his green eyes to even realize what he was saying.

"I'm sorry." She blushed, perfect professionalism, (Y/N).

"What did you ask?" I avoided looking into his eyes. Agent Smith smirked at her, but asked again.

"The report said that the only things missing from the storage were a couple pints of blood." He was referring to the fridge that the blood bank she worked for kept valuable samples, mainly O+.

"Yeah, they just took a couple shelves full, nothing else." She chuckled, "I don't know what they would do with it unless there's a vampire running around town."

Agent Smith smiled, "Ya never know, do ya?" He closed his notepad and stood up from where he had been leaning on the counter. In the doorway she saw his tall partner, also Agent Smith, no relation.

He handed her a card, with his name and contact information, "Anything else happens, just give me a call." She nodded.

He winked, both him and his partner walking out the door. She watched them, they talked as they got into a really nice old car.

The day went on as usual. A few people stopped by to donate blood after the recent hurricane. (Y/N) was on the closing shift tonight. Which meant going through the rooms and cleaning them for the next day and taking inventory. It was hard work, but at least it made a difference.

She had just finished cleaning the last room. She sighed and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She grabbed her clipboard with a notepad and made her way towards the refrigerator. But it was open slightly. She stopped in her tracks and stared at the door. She swore she had shut it after she put in the last donation. And she was supposed to be the only one left here.

She backed away slowly and set the clipboard on the counter. She pulled out her phone and punched in the Agent's number.

"Detective Smith." He answered on the first ring. She didn't answer though. She felt a cold hand on her back and her whole body stiffened. She fell back on the ground, paralyzed. Her head bounced off the ground, her vision started to fade. All she saw was a man with glowing blue eyes and tattoos all over his face over her. And all she heard was Agent Smith's voice calling out as she slipped into darkness.

"Hey!" (Y/N) heard a deep voice shout. She scrunched her face up as the pain started pounding her her head.

"Hey!" The voice said again, "Come on, wake up." The person grabbed her shoulder and shook her lightly. She slowly opened her eyes to see Agent Smith, and the other Agent Smith. But the Agent Smith shaking her was the one with the green eyes that made butterflies in her stomach.

"What... What's going on?" When her vision cleared, she looked around. She was in the clinic, exactly where she fell. Agent Smith smiled at her.

"There you are, sweetheart." He said, he helped her to her feet. She stumbled and held onto his arm for support.

"Take it easy." The tall Agent Smith held his hands out. They both looked different than they had that morning. They weren't wearing suits anymore. They were in casual clothes. Jeans, boots, flannels, jackets. A little too many layers for the time of year but whatever. What really brought her back to her senses was that the other Agent Smith was holding a bloody knife.

She gasped and yanked her arm away from the first agent, backing into a wall.

"Get the hell away from me!" She said, reaching over into a cabinet and grabbing whatever she could. In this case it was a syringe. She held it out to him. The agents shared a glance.

"I know how to use this!" She said, her confidence wavering at the fact that she was threatening the two with a tiny needle.

"Sam, put the knife away. Christ." The first agent said. Sam looked at the knife then quickly put it away.

Agent Dean took a few steps forward with his hands up, "Drop the needle. You're safe now. You were attacked by a djinn. He had the tattoos and the blue eyes. He was stealing blood and when we got here he was about to take yours." The only reason she believed him was the fact that he described what she saw.

"How do I know you're not one of them?" She only lowered the needle a little.

"I don't do tattoos, sweetheart." He smirked. She looked between the two of them and put the needle back where she found it.

"So what are you guys? Ghostbusters or something? Because last time I checked FBI didn't hunt djinn or whatever else." She asked, still wary.

"We're hunters, we hunt monsters. My name is Sam Winchester and this is my brother, Dean." Sam said.

"Pleasure." Dean winked. She forced her blush down.

"Alright so, what now?" She asked.

"What now is that you're coming with us." Dean said, "Djinn's have a big extended family and they'll come after you. Your best bet is being safe with us."

This was insane. Not only did she have two fake FBI agents telling her that monsters were real. But now they were telling her to abandon her life here. And something told her deep inside that this couldn't possibly be real. But... Shove gut feelings.

"Alright. Let's go to my place and grab my stuff-"

"Already taken car of." Dean smiled, "Let's head out." He said it quickly, but that didn't seem to bother her. They made their way out to the classic car and got inside.

"In the back, Sammy." Dean smiled, "Pretty lady gets to ride shot gun." Sam rolled his eyes and got into the back seat. It was almost comical, his knees were up against his chest.

(Y/N) got into the front seat and ran her hands over the dashboard.

"She's a beauty, ain't she?" Dean asked as he closed the driver side door.

"She sure is." She smiled and leaned back against the leather seat.

Dean shoved a cassette tape into the radio and turned it up. Classic rock started blaring out of the speakers.

"Welcome to the family business, (Y/N)."

---

(Y/N) soon got the hang of hunting. She seemed to have a natural talent for it. She helped the brothers take down vampire nests, exorcise demons, a werewolf or two. The hunts had been in places she had been before so she knew how to get around, the usual hiding places. She even used her medical training to help patch the boys up. It was odd though, Dean had told her that she would feel guilty of killing them at first. See their faces. But the strange thing was that after they died, she couldn't remember their faces. Almost like they were just becoming numbers on her list. It started to scare her.

She knocked on Dean's room at the motel they had been staying. Dean opened the door and grinned. He was only wearing a pair of jeans and a black tank top. She avoided looking anywhere but his eyes.

"Hey." She smiled, "I just wanted to check in a see how your cut was healing." She motioned to his arm that had been pretty scratched up after the last demon.

"Sure, come on in." He stepped out of the doorway. She entered and looked around. It looked like hers, almost a carbon copy of something she had seen on TV. But it wouldn't looked like that on TV of there wasn't some truth to it.

Dean sat on the bed. She sat next to him and refrained from running her hands over his muscles even though she desperately wanted to. The cut on his arm was still healing. But no red so that was good.

"Looks good." She said, "No infection. I'd still put a little Neosporin on it every now and again." Dean turned to look at her.

"Why'd you really come here?" He asked, "Besides to check me out." She rolled her eyes and shoved him softly.

"I uh... I don't know, I just feel like I'm not feeling any guilt for killing these monsters." She sighed, "Like one of them was my old college boyfriend and I just feel... Nothing. And ya know, I'm a very emotional person. I just feel like I can't feel anything." She looked at her fingers. Was something wrong with her? She cried at UP and now she can't even feel a little bad for literally stabbing her ex in the back with a machete.

The bed shifted and Dean was just inches from her face. Looking at him felt like she was about to burst. She could feel. But all she could feel was the growing connection between her herself and this cocky, charming hunter.

"Baby," He whispered. He licked his lips, lightly biting the tip of his tongue.

Well now he was just doing it on purpose.

"I could show you how to feel again." He said slyly. Was... Was he implying?

"I.... I uh..." She stammered. He put a finger to her lips and grinned at her.

"It's alright, baby. Just let me show you." He slowly laid her back down the on the soft mattress. He straddled her lap and looked down at her like she was prey. Which should not be as arousing as it was.

~~I don't want Tumblr to take this down~~

Dean fell besides her on the mattress laughing between his panting.

"Well, I felt a little something." He grinned.

(Y/N) sighed contently. She had almost felt something. A large something. And she didn't mean.... Him. That was the first time she had really felt anything in a while. And that's how it went. In the heat of the moment she felt everything. And then as quickly as it came, it was gone again.

"That was...." She began.

"Ahuh?" He asked, pulling her closer to him.

"Perfect." She whispered and kissed him lightly. He hummed, the sound made his chest vibrate against her ear.

"Get some rest." He kissed the top of her head, "Long drive ahead of us tomorrow.

But it wasn't really a long drive. They were going to Indiana which was only about an hour away. He told her they had been all over the country but an hour was a long ride?

"Please!" The demon held his hands out in surrender. This demon had been someone (Y/N) had known from college. His name was Jeremy, he was annoying as all hell. She stalked over him with the demon killing knife. They had been on countless more hunts but still. Nothing gave her true feelings anymore. It felt like she was just going through the motions and tomorrow it would start up again.

"Shut up." She glared and stabbed him. She watched him glow orange from the inside then drop. She got on top of the demon, shaking with rage. She took the knife in both hands and stabbed the corpse again and again.

"(Y/N, stop!" Sam shouted as he ran into the room. She kept going, stabbing through bone and meat. With each stab she felt more and more angry and she cried more and more.

"Baby!" Dean called, he grabbed her and pulled her away from the body. She was sobbing now, her whole body shaking.

"I can't feel anything!" She cried, dropping the knife, "Why can't I feel anything?!" She held her head. Sam and Dean shared a glance.

"Come on, baby. You need to rest." He helped her up.

"No! I need to feel something. And if it's pain then it's pain." She ran out the door of the abandoned building and into the alley.

"(Y/N)!" Dean called behind her. She just kept running until she got to the sidewalk. It was a busy street. And she was willing to do anything. She saw a bus heading her way. She gulped and took a step into the road. She could hear Dean and Sam getting closer. It wasn't fair to them. It wasn't fair to her. She had to try. She ran out in front of the bus. The last thing she remembered were the bright headlights, the horn blaring and Dean screaming her name.

"Hey!" (Y/N) heard a deep voice shout. She scrunched her face up as the pain started pounding her her head. This was too familiar. She opened her eyes quickly and saw the ceiling of an abandoned warehouse. She tried to sit up but fell back. She felt so tired and week. Like how you feel after you got way too much blood drawn. She rolled over and leaned on her elbows. She dragged herself to a table and stood up. She could hear grunting and struggling coming from the other room. She hobbled her way there and gasped. There was the djinn... And... Dean was there. But if the djinn was here and not dead that meant... Meant everything had been a dream...

She saw Dean and the Djinn struggling. Dean had a tight grip of the Djinn's wrist but was struggling to hold it back. There was a knife, presumably dipped in lamb's blood ok the floor. Sam stood up from the ground, attempting to get to his brother.

(Y/N) grabbed the knife from the floor.

"Sam!" She called out. He looked at her, slightly confused. She threw him the knife. He caught it and stabbed the Djinn in the back. It stumbled back a minute before falling back dead.

Dean panted and looked up at (Y/N). She looked in pretty rough shape, probably because she had been having her blood drained from her for a week.

She smiled at Dean and leaned against the doorway, "Sup boys, long time now see."

Sam chuckled as he panted, "You got out of the Djinn's spell. How did you know?"

She shrugged, looking at Dean, "I may not know the real thing. But that wasn't the real thing. And I couldn't get out of their fast enough." Suddenly she felt very light headed, she watched Dean and Sam run to grab her as she fell.

"So you know?" Sam asked. She nodded, trying to ignore the beeping from the heart monitor. The boys had brought her to the hospital.

"Only because you told me." She said awkwardly, "The Djinn made me dream that I was a hunter like you. Even though I could have had no clue what that even meant. But that's what I got."

"How did you know it wasn't right?" Dean asked from the chair besides the bed.

"So... For one thing, everything I was seeing were things, people I had seen before. And I just... I could feel any emotions besides a few."

"What were they?" The question she was avoiding, thanks Sam.

"I could feel angry and I felt...." She looked at Dean from the side. She didn't wanna say lust because uh yeah, that was a big one. He looked genuinely curious and that's what made her heart rate spike.

Dean put a hand up, "Alright alright, let's calm down here. You already lost a lot of blood, now's not the time for a heart attack."

"Thank you." She relaxed back into the bed, "So.... Are you guys gonna leave?" Another question she had wanted to avoid.

"Well, yeah. Djinn's dead. Time to hit the road to find the next one." Dean said as he stood from the chair. She looked away. It wasn't normal that she should be disappointed but she had just spent what felt like a year of her life with Sam and Dean. She knew it wasn't real but she... She loved Dean. Whether he was real or not. But that wasn't fair to him.

Dean saw her look and put a hand on her shoulder, "Hey, kid. Chin up. With all the Djinn knowledge... Who knows. Maybe you could help us out."

"Really?" She sat up.

"Really. You hear anything around town that goes bump in the night. Give me a call, and we'll come as soon as we can." His words gave her little joy. They were still leaving without her. Dean leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"See ya around." He winked. Then both brothers left her in her hospital room.

She laid back against her pillow. Once and hunter. Always a hunter. Even in your dreams. She'd go out on her own. Maybe run into the brothers. And maybe she could feel what the Family Business was really like.

-------------------------------------------------

Don't ya hate it when you're Djinn gives you the information you need to Destroy it.

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madamewriterofwrongs · 5 years

Video

youtube

So.

Couple of things.

One: Fuck Bill Maher and any misguided fuck who thinks bullying anyone is an acceptable form of “showing you care”.

Two: I appreciate James Corden for responding as an overweight man with a platform to address the matter.

But James, you put cheap jokes ahead of getting a message across and that also doesn’t help. Playing into stereotypes to get a laugh is exactly what you should be fighting against!

I am fat. I have fat. I am a person with a whole lot of issues. One of them is my choice of eating habits. Another one is that I used to steal from pop-up shops. I also collect notebooks knowing I will never use them. I’ve only ever been shamed for one of those things.

And I don’t mean called out across the street by random strangers. I mean loved ones giving me diet books as Christmas presents. Acquaintances asking if I’m okay to go on this walk to the park or if I’d rather drive down the block. Strangers on the bus glaring at me even though I’m not even fully on the seat because I would rather be uncomfortable than take up any more space.

It’s so ingrained in Western Culture that people who have fat on their bodies are lesser, and it was made incredibly apparent in this video that no one really knows how to talk about it.

Maher said: “Being fat is not a birth defect. People don’t come out of the womb and need to buy two seats on an airplane.”

I don’t know anyone who comes out of the womb needing to buy one plane ticket but maybe that’s just me. Corden does address that for many, genetics is a huge component of weight loss and gain, and beyond that there’s poverty, parental guidance, and physical and mental illness that play a role. Weight is not always in someone’s control. It can be something one lives with from birth.

Parents who starve their babies because they see a little fat on their arms know that “being fat” is something you are just born with.

Maher said: “We’ve gone to this weird place where “being fat” is good. It’s pointing out that fat is unhealthy, that’s what’s bad.”

You are absolutely right, Billy Boy, there are health problems associated with excessive amount of fat on the body. You know what I’m not? A mannequin. A thought experiment. Or any other god damn thing but a human being. Fat people are not just bodies. People with extra fat on their bodies are not any less deserving of some common fucking decency.

You know what weird place we’ve gone to, William? A place where strangers think they are entitled to an opinion about the way you look and god forbid you take any pride in your appearance. If you dress the way a “skinny” woman dresses, you are glorifying an unhealthy way of life and should die. If you dress to cover parts of your body, you are a lazy slob unworthy of life.

That was not a slip of the tongue. This is not about fat people, this is about fat women. Female presenting bodies that are not conventionally attractive are not allowed to exist in this world. Didn’t you know that?

God help us if we celebrate women of all sizes for taking charge of their bodies, and shame the men who think they have any say in how they live their lives.

Corden said: “Whenever I’ve met Bill Maher in person, he’s been nothing but kind and pleasant, which is why I find it so surprising that he thinks Fat Shaming needs to make a comeback. It never went anywhere.”

The introduction of message boards has created a slight void in public bullying. Why shout across the street that someone’s pig when you could put it in their instagram comments for thousands more to see? And if they fight back? They’re just too sensitive. Of course the crypt keeper will be nice to your face and then talk about a general group of people who vaguely resemble you as vile. That’s just how the world works, right?

Corden made a joke about struggling with his weight by saying “I’ve had good days, and bad months” and the audience laughed. And I wish I could explain how my soul left my body, flew to LA, into James’ dressing room, and sat him down to ask that one simple question:

Why was that funny?

Why did a room full of people laugh when you intentionally made a joke about portion control and self discipline during a segment talking about why shaming fat people isn’t a joke? Do you see the flawed logic in talking about being halfway through a pint of ice cream when the depression kicked in because of what Bill said? Of how all fat people love sugar-coating things.

If you have a platform, why aren’t you continuously using it to teach people a lesson?

After the jokes, Corden did talk about some real issues: Bullying, Poverty, Obesity-related Health Issues, and the fact that SHAMING PEOPLE ONLY CAUSES PEOPLE TO FEEL SHAME. He even makes some jokes about Whole Foods donating salads for every shamed fat kid, and how if you shame the lepton hormone enough, it will change. Here’s where I get off track again.

Corden said: “A lack of shame is not the issue.”

Fat used to be a sign of wealth and now it is a sign of poverty and what’s changed is the perception of body fat and processed foods: neither of which are in the control of the person with the fat body. They are corporation and media influenced bullying that insists that people with health problems, or people living in poverty, or people who are just living their lives anyway they god damn want to, are the ones deserving of shame. Not the ones who feel it is their place to speak out about something that is none of their god damn business.

Smoking kills people who do not smoke. Guns kill people who do not brandish a weapon. Having fat on your body is just having fat on your body.

Is it the best choice for the longevity of your body to eat processed foods every day and never exercise at all? No. But neither is it anyone else’s mother fucking business.

I cannot explain the concept of eating a salad in public and feeling embarrassed because you think people are judging you for eating. Period. The terror of going to the gym and being too scared to ask for help because someone is going to take a picture of you and laugh behind your back.

Seeing someone who looks like you, not giving two shits about what people think of them, and knowing there are people in the world who are not okay with you having a role model.

Why should ANYONE be ashamed of how they look?

I am really glad that James Corden saw an opportunity to talk about an issue that is close to him and NEEDS to be addressed and I wish he had covered it a little better. But the one who really needs to be shamed is Bill Maher and the ones who think that “tough love” and bullying are in any way welcome.

I will leave you with Corden’s closing remark: “While you’re encouraging people to think about what goes into their mouths, just think a little harder about what’s coming out of yours.”

#about me #fat shaming #fat #plus size #obesity #james corden #bill maher #I'm a little upset #sorry about all the swearing

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the-uptake · 5 years

Text

Medical waste and its real role in our lives

The Uptake, With Symbiotic Self-Indulgence. Book III, Chapter 7. Go to previous. Go to next. Augen, you, ah. Doin’ okay there, buddy?

________________________________

Augen took ‘Choly for a smoothie, then the two pressed on to locate a geek bar where the two would sit and eat. Equal parts cafe and specialty grocer’s, the lighting there did not wash out or overwhelm like that of a typical grocery store, but it still had better lighting than a restaurant such as Finnegan’s. In the wake of the events the day before, the gamut of hybrids who had gathered in the establishment seemed terse and agitated despite many of them forcing a genial demeanor. As the lamprey finger-swiped his order at their small digital table near the front, ‘Choly squared up the wheelchair, and ended up folding back the right footrest in order to give Augen sufficient leg clearance beneath the table.

“You… sure it’s okay for me to be here?” ‘Choly glanced about and absently sucked at his straw. The world around him still largely a blur, he couldn’t identify the species of most patrons, let alone what they were eating. “Slag, can’t even see the TV up at the bar.”

“I’m sure it’s just more of the same news we’ve seen for hours at the HP. As long as you behave yourself, hybrids don’t typically mind mixed company. We come places like this not just for a meal, but for a safe space.” Augen pulled out his reader in its waterproof case and set it beside ‘Choly’s on the charge pad panel on the side of the round table nearest the wall. “It shouldn’t take long here to get juiced up. Fuel, energy, a bit of spirit. The necessities.”

The waitperson, a tiger hybrid in a two-piece suit with rolled sleeves, brought out a bag of blood, a pint glass, and a double shot of vodka for each of them, and left directing a brief stifled stink-eye at ‘Choly. Augen unfastened a necklace from beneath his shirt and unfolded the sheath of the pendant to produce a small barber’s notched razor, which he then used to snip the neck of the blood bag and pour it into the glass. Once he’d emptied its contents into the glass, he snapped the pendant back together and returned it to hang under his shirt. He slouched back in his chair a bit and wrapped his lips around roughly half of the mouth of the glass to drink at it.

“Trying to look the part of etiquette, I’m assuming.” ‘Choly tacitly popped the lid off his smoothie to add his vodka to his drink, and Augen choked a bit in nuisance of such commentary. “I know your mouth’s big enough to fit the whole thing in.”

“You know how I am with ritual,” the vampire mumbled, setting down the food a moment in favor of the liquor. “Besides, I’m not here to give anyone a proto-Vek show of it.”

“I just realized. Uh. Until today, I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you eat.” ‘Choly put the lid back on and stirred it with his straw, and Augen struggled to read the way the dreg squinted at him in thought. He sucked at the doctored smoothie. “What’s it like? Eating meat. Real meat.”

“I haven’t taken you out like this yet, have I? I don’t really eat meat. I eat blood. My metabolism’s better than most sanguinarians in the same position as myself. Only got to make a full meal of it once or twice a week. Can’t keep stocked where I’m staying, since it can’t stay fresh without… specific equipment.” Augen fell heavy lidded at the notion of what it took to draw, keep, and store food-grade blood. “I stick to geek bars these days. Repeat donors are expensive and difficult to find, but most geek bars have hashed out contracts with blood clinics. They do a community service, doing the hard part for hybrids. We’re more civilized and rational than most of us will give credit for.”

‘Choly craned across the table to shoot a cataract-glazed glare at the fish.

“You could have fooled me, with how things went yesterday.” He chewed at his straw a minute, shaking, and steadied himself on the tabletop. “I asked about the meat, because I didn’t know how the hybrid side of the conflict panned out when the TIP scandal hit the fan. I was in my teens during the global shift to insect meat. Hybrids can’t eat TIP.”

The two of them both jumped when the whole place burst into an enthusiastic commotion before trickling back down to an energetic simmer.

“A misconception. Though initially true, TIP’s improved. Various texturizing agents help it imitate the mouthfeel of non-insect meats, but the FDA’s gotten more conscientious about including certain amino acids to complete the imitation to full nutritional effect. Just off the top of my head, feline hybrids can go blind without enough taurine, for example, so now there’s a particular food-grade maggot that’s been bred to have naturally high taurine levels. And they’ve got to list the specific amino acids on TIP packaging now.” Augen set down his pint glass and his eyes fell distant on ‘Choly’s cup. “I don’t even remember the changeover. I’m, what, six years younger than you? After the TIP scandal, I was obsessed with the ritual of finding real meat. I wasted so much cred on rat and pigeon meat as a teen. I was convinced that my deficit was in my food source, not in my own body. Turns out, it’s just that I was born with the wrong digestive tract.”

“…So you said blood clinic. It’s real blood? Insects don’t bleed, do they?“

“Of what’s donated, clinics sell a portion to third parties like geek bars. It’s real blood. Human, even.” The fish grinned dopily, ear-to-ear, and returned to his glass in a mock toast. “The day they can texturize something insect-based to simulate the taste, feel, and value of blood is the day true FDA blasphemy has gone too far.”

“There’s a joke to be had over the trade secret for convincing stage blood, but.” ‘Choly let out an odd chuckle and followed the gesture in agreement, not sure how else to respond. His hand sank as he sucked down more of his smoothie, and his features slacked in thought as his head got lost in the chilled warmth of the vodka amid the different blended fruit-like slush. “Come to think of it… I don’t think I recall hybrids with grafting from cows, or pigs, or any of that. Is that an ideological coincidence, or a scarcity thing? Do you think… the average hybrid would consider that kind of grafting weird? To be partly something that non-hybrids once considered food? Slag, I hope people don’t like. Try to–”

Augen slouched across the table in an instant, nose to nose, eye-to-eye.

“Anyone’s food, if you’re not a coward,” he whispered a little too heavily, his eyes wild. He softened after a moment and nipped at ‘Choly’s earlobe with a tiny playful lick. “In the least platonic sense, of course.” He sat back to douse his throat with his canteen.

The dreg shivered head to toe and bit at his labret. Not a topic for the setting. I get it. "For how much I’ve gone clubbing in the past, I’ll admit I’ve never stepped foot in a geek bar personally. It felt weird, is all. I should be glad, I guess, that they’re not frustrated that I’ve got outside food, all things considered. It never really dawned on me that hybrids go grocery shopping just like non-hybrids.”

“We don’t go out for every meal. At least, most of us don’t. Contrary to the colloquialism of these places, most hybrids are relatively private with their eating habits, and don’t like to be gawked at. There are a lot of geek bars that have a no ‘non-hybrids’ policy because they have that rampant an issue with that brand of voyeurism. One of those, if you’re here to watch, find a mixer club mentalities.”

“Cecil and I met at a mixer club,” ‘Choly smiled. “Funny that we were both cruising, and ended up hooking up with each other instead.”

“I remember you mentioning you’re both in that way.” Augen chuckled at a low click. “Though, it’s a peculiar comfort that you seemed to find what I used to look like even half as attractive as you find the real me.” Squinting in craving, he fell quiet and leaned in to whisper again. “…It’s surprisingly next to impossible to get my hands on more therapy serum. The people who have it don’t tend to want to even come into contact with hybrids, let alone sell to them. Fuck, there’s nothing else that can measure up to it.”

“I can only imagine,” ‘Choly humored again, still unable to quite process what had happened at the table at Finnegan’s the day before. “I used to subscribe to onset video channels. I’m sure you’re pretty unique in terms of not only having a use for the stuff, but finding a deranged pleasure in it. Sure, it makes you human again, but it sounds so… dehumanizing.”

“I consider it… a sort of negative space that offsets the delirium. There’s a reason hybrids often get hooked on grafting. Vekarix is an experience.”

“How lucky for you, then, that you’ve found a way to keep that experience alive for you every day,” ‘Choly sugar-coated, unsure if any hybrid patrons within earshot might find objection in the topic. He raised an eyebrow, able to tell from the furtive glaze in Augen’s eyes that he’d said something that clicked in the vampire’s head. His reader chirped out a string of notifications, indicating it had reached a full charge and regained a server connection. He picked it up to look at it, only to set down his drink and use both hands to reply with a tense jaw. “–My parents, shit.”

“They–”

“–Moved to Trenton before the quarantine. My mom says the blackout caused a brownout throughout the state. They’re both safe and with power, but they don’t have a full Web connection.” Hastily replying the best he could, he swallowed despite how the abrupt stressor had dried out his mouth, and coughed.

|| We’re alive. I had the day off yesterday. Cecil was in the explosion. Rev escorted me to Premier so we could see him in the hospital. I haven’t slept since yesterday. I’ll call you guys once I’ve rested and catch up. We love you. ||

“Letting them know you’re all right?” Augen’s head fell slightly askew as he polished off the glass. Too convenient to be a mirroring behavior, he’d also picked up his reader and been texting someone.

“Yeah. I can’t get caught up talking to them right now, though. I’ll call later.” They’ll ask if I’m okay, and I’m a terrible liar. “What’s that about?”

Augen tucked his reader into an apron pocket and stood. He was about to wave his cred-card at the pad, but the tiger hybrid was rushing up and waved away his hand with a delirium.

“No, no, no! On the house. Today we celebrate.”

Augen and ‘Choly stared at them, confused.

“April Fool’s… was yesterday,” ‘Choly started. “What are we…”

“–Oh, I’m sure you’re not celebrating, but we are. The Mid-Atlantic Hybrid Registry is down for the count because of… what happened yesterday. Permanently. There were magnet pulses involved. Tri-City Central’s whole server’s dead.” They grinned and purred, copper eyes wide as saucers. “Not to speak ill of the sacrifice, but gods bless whoever’s responsible. That thing was the single biggest civil rights violation in the country since they tried to make queer identities illegal in 2024!”

Augen couldn’t possibly have paled more, and he did his best to steel his demeanor by putting a hand to the tiger’s shoulder in camaraderie.

“My god. We’re… we’re free. But at what… cost…?”

“Augen, you okay?” Sweating, ‘Choly nudged at his free hand. “Buddy?”

“It doesn’t matter when you were made, brother.” The tiger took both Augen’s hands in their paws. “We’re free. All of us.”

“I… I have to go. My friend, we’re– we’re late for his appointment. Thank you.”

“I–”

‘Choly nodded in frenetic approval, and let Augen push him, but he didn’t remember to fold his footrest back forward until it loudly grazed the door frame of the establishment on their way out. He nearly dropped his smoothie in embarrassment, scrambling to right the problem.

“–I, THANK YOU!”

He took another sip as they strolled purposefully through the neon streets. “…I don’t know if I can get used to this thing, man. I’m glad you’re pushing me. I feel better after getting something nutritional in me, though. You feel better too?”

“I’ll feel better once I can fix my ribs. It’s getting to be too much to ignore.”

‘Choly looked up and back at him in interested confusion.

“You know of a doctor like Bell in Premier?”

“No. We’re going to Linnaeus’s old parlor.”

‘Choly nearly spat out his drink.

“–Fuck, Augen. I’ve had enough verbot shit in the past twenty-four hours to last me a whole year.”

“You don’t have to come with me.”

“Like fuck I don’t. You promised y’wouldn’t leave me alone ‘til I had eyes again.”

“I could take you back to the hospital room, so you could stay with Cecil.”

“They’d probably just run me out again.” He realized that Augen’s texts must have been to Cecil’s brother, and his jaw slacked a bit. “Why are we looking for this place? Isn’t it abandoned?”

“I need to jog my healing response. Pretty much any metagenic exposure will work, and his parlor seems like the most convenient option considering we’re a bit stranded in Premier. I asked Linnaeus if his stuff is still in there, and he said that they repossessed the whole property, stock, equipment, and all–but that he doesn’t know exactly what’s left. He wasn’t allowed to take anything with him, but a new owner hasn’t bought it yet, and last he checked, it hasn’t been cleaned out, either. There’s got to be some Vek doses left. …You don’t need to worry. I know this part of town.”

“The part of town isn’t what I’m worried about…” ‘Choly built the nerve. “You don’t think Linnaeus did it, do you? You’re so fucking freaked out right now.”

“Not in a million years.” A stuttered near hyperventilation fell out of Augen as he started pushing faster, kicking into a wheelie and escalating into a forceful chiropteran chitter that made ‘Choly flinch and tremble. “Not. In a million years.”

“StinkfaACE WHO TAUGHT YOU HOW TO DRIVE–” The blood suffused ‘Choly’s inebriated skull as the chair rattled beneath him. Unable to unclench, he considered the very real chance that Central might permanently be destroyed, as the tiger had described, and he sublimated to derangement.

Nothing’s illegal if it can’t be regulated, and with the plug pulled, law and order in Tri-City had ceased yesterday. The crime rate was about to drop to zero.

Augen could only laugh and propel the two of them faster.

After taking a toll-free mass public lift up to Level 12, they navigated the sidewalks of the commercial district, and they entered a large multi-story office building with a decent amount of foot traffic. Augen drew his shawl over his head again and avoided eye contact with passersby. ‘Choly pointed vaguely at the directory map while they waited for the elevator, and Augen nodded once he’d skimmed and located an empty placard slot. He tossed ‘Choly’s empty cup for him in time for the elevator car to arrive and let off its passengers. A few others needed to ride with them, and they let ‘Choly get in first and tuck into the corner with Augen before they got in with them. When asked for a floor, Augen told them the fifteenth floor. Once they’d ridden all the way to the twenty-second floor, they descended back to the seventh and exited free of anyone who’d seen them enter.

The seventh floor hall had bright orange low-pile carpet, and far less traffic than the first floor. From the looks of the placards outside each establishment, this was chiefly a medical floor, but after Linnaeus’s parlor had closed, much of it had pulled out. They turned right at the end of the hallway, and located the large clinic-like commercial space. The Lazarus Hall. Welded rivets boarded up the doors, along with a trespassing warning and a for lease sign. Augen didn’t even hesitate to keep walking down the hall, and turned left down a small side-hall at the end of the way. ‘Choly knew to keep quiet, but it wasn’t until they turned left again and got to a false door which Augen slid aside to expose a passcoded door, that ‘Choly understood how simple it would be for them to gain access. Augen double-checked his texts to Linnaeus for the sequence, and while he slid the false door back in place, he had ‘Choly hold open the door with the wheel of his chair.

“It’s a good thing they boarded up all the windows and doors on the front face,” Augen quipped, using his reader’s flashlight to illuminate the office space. Disengaging pushing ‘Choly, he took a canteen break to re-moisturize and investigate the place for himself. “It’ll give us away to the building owners if we turn on anything, but no one will see our reader light.”

“This place is huge,” ‘Choly awed, puttering along close behind him by the handrims with his drink between his legs. “Just how many people do you think he saw every day, back when it was at its peak?”

“On a slow day, The Lazarus Hall probably saw easily a hundred patients. Busy days, in the thousands. There were about a dozen Vek artists running the place. I’d say a solid one in five of Tri-City’s hybrids got their work done right here, and probably one in three of Manhattan Premier’s. It’s a piece of history. Maybe one day, they’ll reopen its doors.”

“I’m just shocked the security isn’t better, considering Vek is a Schedule 2 chemical.” The moved into the consultation room halls, and he followed as Augen went room to room to assess what remained. “The layout’s a lot like the All’s Well Clinic. I don’t think you’re likely t’find anything useful in the patient rooms, ‘less y'want me t’get a good look in those ears an’ nose. They’ve gotta have a pharmacy where all the meds and truck’s stored.”

“If it’s so much like All’s Well, then where is that room?”

“Hopefully on the first floor,” ‘Choly mumbled in distraction, noticing an elevator door and a stairwell beside it. “I repeat. This place is huge.”

“You know, they didn’t just shut down The Lazarus Hall to make an example of Linnaeus and his associates as prominent Vek artists. This is where they started researching cross-branch grafting. Vek specialists still think it’s possible to graft animal genetics into non-animals, but that the other way’s impossible. They didn’t even used to think mammals could receive grafting from non-mammals–”

“–You remember how badly I wanted insect grafting,” the dreg snipped in lament.

“–They didn’t think it was possible. The staff here was on the brink of proving that wrong. He couldn’t save any of the equipment or materials, but he managed to get a copy of his research data. Together with the other three artists that escaped and fell off the grid, they finished out that research on their own.”

“What about the other artists? You said there was, like, a dozen of ‘em.”

“Those they captured didn’t have the choice between documentation or therapy serum. They were forced to comply with both.”

“…They must resent Linnaeus.”

“He managed to keep three of his staff members safe. That’s all I know. The four of them still work down the street from me, heh. From what I understand, they were the only ones who took the rumors seriously when the staff was warned to get out while they could.”

“Whoever had that hidden back door installed must have known long in advance things could go South fast.”

“I’m almost positive that’s the exact purpose of that door. The only other exit I can think of would be a treadless dock, and on an upper story of Level 12, they couldn’t have just run out the back way, unless there’d been a vehicle waiting for them.”

“A piece of history,” ‘Choly repeated. “Huh.”

They located a different arrangement of rooms halfway down into The Lazarus Hall, and found the pharmaceutical storage close to the reception and waiting room at the front. ‘Choly frowned, sharing Augen’s agitation that the shelves lay largely bare.

“So what are we looking for, anyway?”

“–The dock zone, then. I guess. Slaggit.”

The vampire grabbed the handlebars again and took control of the wheelchair again to match his pace.

“You think they left a shipment in tact without unloading it? All these years?”

“No. I’m just banking on the likelihood they didn’t pick up on trash day.”

The dock lay in the back far corner of the first floor, and Augen’s boots echoed between the metal walls and concrete floor. ‘Choly swept the area with his reader flashlight, and his jaw popped in dread at the mere sight of it. Goosebumps subsumed him head to toe as he shivered. Palette after palette of bright orange drums were stacked as many as seven high, and abandon knew how deep. Even without glasses, he could discern the unmistakable biohazard trefoils on every single one.

His breath ragged, ‘Choly separated from Augen to propel himself by one handrim and the shuffle of one foot, and took pictures of the scenery for souvenirs. Up close, he could read that every drum was labeled BF Meehl. After a mote of dissociation tried its luck, he bothered to pop his jaw back in place, and he sniveled in distrust.

“I don’t think these drums were here before the property was locked down,” ‘Choly started, mentally winded.

When he looked to Augen, the fish had freed the lever-lock ring of one of the drums on an unstacked palette, and straightened to his full length to stare down its contents.

“No shit.”

“What’s even in them?” ‘Choly stayed put, too unnerved with Augen’s demeanor to get any nearer. “They don’t look like they have any labels.”

“Probably mixed waste drums. Composite waste. It’s all dumped together. Sheisse, it’s perfect.” Augen coiled back down to his common posture, to rest his hands to either side of the drum rim, only to withdraw completely from the palette to disrobe. Without explanation, he approached ‘Choly and tucked his belongings ‘Choly’s lap. With a tepid swallow, the dreg’s eyes followed those cave-pale buttocks back to the open drum. “Most of these drums are probably grafting byproduct. To be honest, I don’t know where this kind of stuff was usually disposed of, even back when human grafting was legal. They’re all BF Meehl drums, aren’t they? As far as I know, Linnaeus was the owner. …Makes you wonder if Meehl has a sanitation subsidiary or something?”

“…Do we need to double back to the pharmacy stock room for some needles?” ‘Choly clapped a hand over his mouth in recognition of what was happening, and he writhed in place as his voice broke. “Wait. Holy fUCK. You’re just gonna shoot up whatever’s in that mess–? What if it’s not–”

“One better.”

“–Vek.”

And with that, Augen dunked his head face-first into the drum, and shoved himself down past his shoulders such that the contents overflowed and splattered. ‘Choly’s heart ratcheted to a near halt as he could do little else but look on in rapturous dismay. Years ago, the lamprey hybrid had put on a show for him, to demonstrate that he could expose himself to metagenic compounds and undergo their side effects, only for his genetically engineered immune system to reject the mutations and revert them back to the hybrid state his body understood as the default. But then, that had been Ketonamil exposure. He’d simply grown enormous from his endocrine system going haywire, and later sloughed flesh until he returned to normal dimensions. But ‘Choly didn’t think even Augen knew exactly what all was in this drum–if it was even Vek in the first place. Even if it were entirely Vekarix preparations, there was no way to tell what genetic donors would come from the exposure.

What if that wasn’t Vekarix. What if it’s not metagenic, and it just poisons him. What if he dies here. I can’t get back out of here on my own. I shouldn’t have come. They’re gonna catch us in here. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuc–

Augen came up for air, and his pleuric external gills flared out as he heaved.

“That’s the stuff.” His voice had thickened significantly, tremulous and viscous. “FUCK! I love that my skin is part of my respiratory system. Shit just soaks right into my bloodstream.”

“–So, so it was Vek?” he squeaked, sweating even worse.

Augen looked to him, and the reader flashlight reflected back more than two eyes. ‘Choly’s legs seized up, and his heart snagged on his ribs again.

“Doesn’t matter either way. What’s done’s done.” Drip drying rapidly along the way, he walked coolly to grip the wheelchair armrests and lean over ‘Choly. “Save your reader battery. Just let this be pure sound, smell, and touch. The light’s… really hurting somehow.”

“You fucker, you brought me with so I’d have to watch.”

Augen seemed to lurch at him, so he scrambled to comply with the request with a broken whine. After an impossible silence, the hybrid spasmed and tried to steady himself on the armrests with a stuttered, deflating groan. Breathless and desperate, he slumped into ‘Choly’s lap shoving his belongings to either side of ‘Choly’s hips, and trembling and twitching in what the dreg could only understand to be a seizure. Tears burning down his cheeks in an instant, 'Choly grabbed his friend’s bare, clammy, serpentine body to do his best to keep either of them from falling over, and exclaimed Augen’s name repeatedly with desperate finality.

The intensity with which Augen’s body shook seemed to peak with a crunching lurch, to which the hybrid gurgled a scream, equal parts agony and ecstasy. The The subsequent tremors softened to a shakiness, but ‘Choly couldn’t believe the force of that one motion hadn’t knocked the both of them back in the wheelchair. It wasn’t until the squelching sound of too-soft flesh shifting, that ‘Choly’s terrified hand wandered up Augen’s side, and met a membrane. Following the shoulder, he couldn’t reach the elbow. The hybrid lolled back his head and let out a bat-screech, and the dreg beneath him could tell that the arch in his elongated back could only serve the purpose of applying friction against his lap. With his other hand, Augen breathlessly guided ‘Choly to reach around to fondle him. Neither of them could process the tangle of flesh in their fingers as it seemed to nearly grope back at them.

“…What the fuck did you DO,” ‘Choly demand-defended, unable to take his hand back.

“It– hurts. Ohh god–” Augen seized up again. His flesh shivered wetly before another bony crunch echoed in the metallic space, and the musculature of his shoulders mashed back into ‘Choly’s face. “GhhaAH–”

‘Choly turned his head so he could breathe, but could do nothing about the amount of skin contact against his face. The chair lurched forward, and he slammed down his bare right foot to try to keep them from rolling too far forward in the dark. In the continued forward momentum he realized Augen’s arms were now at least as long as he was long, dragging back behind them as he tried to stretch his full limb span. 'Choly’s free hand found itself trying to make sense of the texture forming on what seemed to be Augen’s entire body, and his fingers traced what felt like hundreds of divots. With the clammy, tepid flesh pressed against him, the hyper-sweet chemical stink of whatever now tormented his friend nearly made him retch. Revulsion shifted to fixation, and his lower lip dragged in ragged repetition along the rim of the divots he could reach with his mouth as they formed deep macro-pores. He stuttered in arousal when one requited the osculation.

“Are you– making out with– my shHOULD– er–”

“God what the fuck,” ‘Choly uttered, intoxicated with overstimulation. After a few minutes of alternating to spread the attention around, he could tell Augen’s skin was rasping. His hair froze upright. He tried and failed to swallow. “You’re just as scared as I am, aren’t you.”

A phlegmy, nasal sound clicked and clicked and clicked in futility from Augen’s throat and flesh, like some kind of fetid orphic hairball. The body atop ‘Choly spasmed into rigor, and every orifice suffused a viscous, smacking exudate. The dreg squirmed to get away from the stuff, getting drenched head to toe as he was pinned in place by a creature that weighed at least three times more than him. He groaned pathetically as the stuff soaked into his pants and sweater, his mouth pursed tightly shut. Once Augen’s body slacked in his lap again, he put a nervous tongue tip to the mess slathering his friend’s mutated flesh, finding the stuff overwhelmingly musky and salty, and he flinched in frightened revulsion.

“Fuck-Me-in-the-Mouth, did you just. Did you just cum?”

“Out of everything. I never want t– uhhhhg I just… it’s not over, fuck.” The hybrid slid weakly down out of ‘Choly’s lap and onto the floor. “I didn’t think there was anything worse than puking. That was. NnnhOT. Pleasant.”

‘Choly had hit his limit and struggled despite his leg brace to join Augen on the polished concrete. He pulled off his diamond bag, sweater, and shirt and put them in the chair seat, then dragged the fish’s clothing down with him. He tucked the vest and pants under his head for a pillow, and used the shirt to wipe off his face and hair. He remembered to retrieve his reader from his bag and tucked it under his makeshift pillow after checking it still had decent reception and charge.

“Some of us just get to have all the fun, now, don’t we?” ‘Choly ribbed in total exhaustion, doing his best to cover himself with the shawl. “You started this day at one end of an extreme, and ended it flippin’ it to the other. SLAG! what a shitty end to a shitty day. I want a shower.”

“Just… don’t fucking turn on any lights.” Augen simmered, failing to entirely resist writhing as the metagen continued working his flesh into a tangled clusterfuck. “…Get some rest. Tomorrow’s the first day of the rest of our lawless, godawful lives.”

“Here’s hoping you’re still just one mouth to feed when we get out of here.”

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#cyberpunk #biopunk #mutant #terato #anthro #lemony goodness #trypo tw #the uptake #amaurophilia #wssi #with symbiotic self indulgence #melanochro kara #august ritter #medical waste and its real role in our lives

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summeryoongki · 6 years

Text

Bite [2]

Chapter 2

“What do you mean ‘freak out’? Why would I freak out!? Jazmin, tell me what’s going on!”

The panic in my voice was doubled by the echoing walls and I’m sure anyone behind the many doors lining the hall could hear me.

“[Y/N], calm down. It’s okay, shh.”

She held my hand and tried to comfort me in a soothing voice. The scene reminded me of how a child tries to call to a cat in a comforting tone right before they capture it. I was the cat in this situation. Before Jazmin could continue, a door to my right opened and out stepped a very pretty girl with dark hair and monolid eyes. Something about the way she stared straight into my eyes without any shame both terrified and entranced me and I found that I wasn’t breathing. She spoke and it felt like her voice was warm honey seeping into my skin and making my limbs heavy and languid.

“Hello [Y/N], you’re here to donate your blood for people who can’t survive without it, for Vampyres.”

As her last words left her mouth, her face split into a calculating smile, showing her teeth as she did so as her canines dropped down and elongated into sharp, white points.

“Stop screaming.” Said the pretty girl with fangs.

I hadn’t realized that the annoying shrieking sound that reverberated against the high walls were coming from me until I stopped, obeying her command.

“Breathe.”

My lungs filled with air once, twice, three times as I tried to process what I had just witnessed.

“Stay calm, no one is going to hurt you.”

I took one last deep lungful of air before releasing it slowly with an obedient “okay.”

“My name is Seulgi and I am a Vampyre. Vampyres exist. None of the Vampyres here will harm you. If you agree, today you will be donating your blood to some thirsty people who greatly appreciate your sacrifice and we will also generously compensate you for it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

My voice sounded foreign and strange but I could feel it coming from my own throat. The dazed feeling I had been under lessened once Seulgi turned to Jazmin and nodded her head at my friend who turned to me with a sorry expression on her pretty face. The panic and fear I had felt just a second earlier had smoothed out and I was left with confusion and apprehension.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this before, we all are put under a compulsion to not tell anyone their secret. I was scared at first too, but when I saw Jin, he assured me that he wouldn’t hurt me and that he’d be as gentle as I wanted. Plus, I really couldn’t resist him, I mean, he’s beautiful and charming and tall and his smile is just… Anyways, they’re just like us, not like we are shown in movies and stuff, except they, you know, drink blood to survive. And they pay you! Don’t you really need the money, or else you’ll have to drop out and get a full time job?”

I nodded my head and swallowed, her words still swimming in my head. Drink blood?Vampyres? Compulsion?

“[Y/N], do you trust me?”

I stared deep into her brown eyes, suddenly unsure of my answer, until I remembered how we had vowed to always protect and trust each other when were just kids.

“We’ll always look out for each other, okay?”

“Always.”

“Do you trust me?” she repeated. I knew my answer.

“Always.”

Her face lit up in a smile of recognition for our phrase and she took my hand in hers.

“Always. Okay, Seulgi, I think we’re ready.”

Seulgi spent the next 20 minutes explaining the contract and process to me so I fully understood my options before I signed a binding contract with their company which I found out is named HemCorp. The name made sense since their business was blood. I opted for the one time donation process for now, which she told me could be changed later, if I decided I wanted to sign the year contract. It was all very business-like and professional, which eased my anxiety a little.

“I’ve paired you with two of our clients, Taehyung and Jungkook. They will only take half a pint each, which is collectively the same amount you would donate to the Red Cross. They are both very nice, sweet guys, if you have any concerns or boundaries just let them know and they will totally respect you. Many people experience a Blood Bond between themselves and the Donee, so don’t be surprised if that happens. Oh and one more thing, you can’t tell anyone about the donation process or what we are, okay? Okay. Now that you’ve signed the liability waiver, the confidentiality agreement and the contract, I’ll take you down to meet the boys.”

Jazmin and I followed Seulgi down the chandeliered hallway and to a waiting room with another door where she punched in a security code. A high pitched chime sounded and a tiny green dot lit up and the door unlocked, allowing Seulgi to open it and let us through. As she led us through the maze of halls and rooms, I caught glimpses of people, men and women. It was easy to tell who the Vampyre were and who weren’t. They were the ones who were beyond beautiful, the ones whom you couldn’t help stare at as if their beauty put you in a drugged trance.

I noticed a muscular blonde boy talking animatedly to another boy who was taller and had a light pink cast to his own blonde hair. I heard the tall one say the others name as we passed.

“.. I can’t hang out today Jackson, but I should be free on Sunday…”

I looked in the doors that were open, curious as to what they held, peeking one room with a fiery haired boy laying down on a couch, hands behind his head and one knee propped up. He winked when he noticed my eyes were on him and I sped up, passing his room.

“I put Tae and Kookie in the room next to Jazmin and Jin. I thought it might make you feel more relaxed if you knew your friend was on the other side.”

“Thank you. That does help, actually.” I exhaled with relief.

Just then the door on the left opened and a tall boy with soft brown hair and a handsome face stepped out and embraced Jazmin with such warmth and gentleness, that I couldn’t help but smile for her. She melted into his embrace and I knew this must be Jin.

“Hello, you must be [Y/N], it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Jin.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you too.” I said, smiling as I shook his outstretched hand.

“Okay! Introductions are over, now we can go in. Have fun!”

Jazmin was clearly eager to be alone with Jin and I laughed at her rushed attitude as she dragged him into the room and closed the door. Seulgi opened the door on the right and flipped the light switch, illuminating the room as we stepped inside. A large bed rested against one wall while a couch and a table sat against the opposite. The furniture had a dark stain finish and the linens on the bed were mostly in a dark red color, and large black planters held exotic tropical plants I couldn't name. A large, furry, white rug paired with the dim lighting gave the room a warm, cozy, sensual feel. It looked like a very expensive hotel suite.

“The boys will be here in a second. The rooms are soundproof for privacy so if you need anything just press this button next to the door and someone will come. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

She left with a genuine smile on her face and I was finally alone, standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what I should do with myself. I moved over to the bed and sat on the soft, plush comforter, but immediately stood up. The bed seemed too casual and sensual. I decided to sit on the couch instead and stiffly awaited the two Vampyre that I would be ‘feeding’ tonight. The clock on the wall ticked slowly, mocking my nerves with every second.

Suddenly, the door clicked open and in walked two very handsome boys, both slightly taller than me. One had warm, golden skin, dark brown hair with honeyed highlights and had thick lashes that framed his dark irises. He wore a loose sweater and black leather pant with boots, just like me. The other looked slightly younger and he had shiny black hair, lighter skin, big innocent eyes, and pink lips. His clothes were more casual, a long black t-shirt, fitted ripped jeans and tan Timberlands. The one with the lighter hair made his way over to me and I stood up to greet him respectfully. He slowly circled me, drinking me in with his eyes before speaking.

“You’re very pretty… Hi, I’m Taehyung, this is Jungkook.”

His voice was deep and soothing, but also had a lightness to it as if he was always laughing. I liked the way it caressed me and it made me want to smile and laugh too. Instead of shaking my outstretched hand, he grabbed me, wrapping his arms around my frame in a warm hug that took me by surprise, but I hesitantly returned it. Jungkook simply walked up to me, shy smile on his face that showed his cute bunny teeth, and gave me a quick bow and a greeting.

“Hi.”

“It’s nice to meet you [Y/N]. Seulgi told us this is your first time. Do you have any questions?” asked Taehyung, genuine concern in his voice.

“NO SEX…I – um- I mean, let’s just keep it professional.” Taehyung smiled and laughed while Jungkook blushed and avoided eye contact with me.

“Okay, whatever you want. You might not be saying that in a few minutes, but, let’s get started shall we?!” Tae moved onto the bed and sat on his knees, patting the covers in-between his legs, indicating for me so sit in front of him.

“Sit with your back against me and Jungkookie will be in front of you while I’m at your neck. It’ll be easier that way.”

I moved onto the bed and sat rigidly between his knees, tense from the awkwardness of it all. Tae grabbed my waist with his large hands and quickly pulled me back, situating me even closer to him, my back flush with his chest and I could feel my cheeks heat with blood at his contact.

“Just relax [Y/N]…” his voice went even deeper than before and it had a honey smoothness to it, just like Seulgi’s had when I first met her. My body relaxed into his and the heady sweetness of his voice flowed into me, soothing my mind and my muscles.

“Good girl.” He purred into my neck. His rumbling voice stroked a small flame into existence inside of me and my body suddenly became deliciously warm. Jungkook made his way over, the bed dipping under his weight as he crawled next to me and straddled one of my legs, reaching for my hand.

“Thank you. We really appreciate this.”

I was surprised by how smooth and manly his voice was despite how young and cute he looked and I smiled at the sincerity I heard within it.

“Y-You’re welcome. I’m glad to help…”

My voice felt weak and broke a little at the start. I was painfully aware of Tae behind me and the way Jungkook was stroking my hand and wrist in slow, tickling motions that made my heart race and my body shiver with anticipation.

I was told the experience was unlike any other, being bitten by one of the Vampyre; slightly painful but mostly pleasurable. I was told it was almost like a drug, a high, where everything could be felt and every sense heightened. It was part of the allure that drew humans to the Vampyre and had them continuously returning for more, an evolutionary advantage that ensured the survival of their species. Even now, that built-in sensor in my head for danger was buzzing, but I ignored that warning, instead reveling in the transic bliss that the two boys seemed to inject me with, with just a touch or a growl of their voice.

“I’ll go first, [Y/N], so we don’t overwhelm you. It’ll sting at first, but soon it will change.” said Tae right next to my ear.

I nodded to let him know I heard and understood because at the moment, I didn’t think my voice would be anything other than a pathetic whisper. His slightly cold fingertips lightly brushed the hair away from the side of my neck and I automatically tilted my head, giving him more room to work with. My heart beat hard and steady inside my chest and my breathing became shallow and fast paced, but he didn’t bite down on my flesh just yet. Instead, his hand teased my cardigan until it slipped past my bare shoulders and fell down my arms, pooling around me and the bed. Jungkook helped me slip out of the soft material, pulling one arm out at a time. I shivered as cool air pricked goose bumps into my skin, one by one.

“You have beautiful skin…”

Tae’s voice trailed and he tapped his fingers up my arms and over my shoulders, squeezing and rubbing a small massage into my muscles before taking my face in his large hands and sharply tilting it in a dominant motion. He laid his warm lips against the smooth patch of skin beneath my ear and I braced myself, expecting to feel a sharp piercing sensation but I was teased yet again, by him gently kissing and sucking small discolored clouds into my flesh. An electric tingle coursed through my body and I feebly moaned as my nipples hardened and strained against the tight corset. A deep chuckle rumbled through Teahyung’s chest and I snapped my eyes open, suddenly aware of the lewd reaction I was having. My cheeks grew hot from embarrassment and even hotter from the hungry, lustful expression on Jungkook’s face as he watched the older boy torture me. His eyes were cloudy and hooded and his mouth hung open slightly as he breathed deeply. But the most interesting thing was the pink tinge that stained the skin around and in the whites of his eyes, even his previously dark brown iris’s now held a burgundy richness to them. Blood Lust.

“Are you ready?” Tae’s whispered question tickled across my skin.

I hesitated for a second, moving my hands to tightly grip his thighs as he awaited my permission.

“…Yes.”

All at once, he snaked an arm around my waist and held my head steady with the other as his teeth scraped and then punctured through my skin and into the carotid artery on the right side of my neck.

At first, the pain is sharp and white hot as one would imagine, but almost immediately it slowly began to morph into a brand new level of pleasure that I had never experienced before. It’s like listening to a beautiful song, or eating a decadent piece of chocolate cake. It feels like when your crush touches you or smiles at you for the first time, and also like the first day of spring after a cold winter. It’s riveting and all-encompassing and completely overwhelming.My breathing became hard and loud as he slowly drew the warm blood from me, drinking me into his body, and I understand why someone would form a Blood Bond with a Vampyre. In the moment of feeding, you share such an intimate act with them. They give you so much pleasure and a heightened sense of awareness that most people couldn’t even imagine, but you also literally become one as your life source nourishes them from the inside out. It’s beautiful, it is addicting.

My skin burns and tingles, I can feel every tiny air current in the room and I can hear my own heart racing, I smell the woodsy and musky scents of each boy, as well as the shampoo that lingers in their hair, I can smell my own arousal that has begun to pool at my core. Small trickles of warm liquid fall down my neck every so often, only to be licked up by Taehyung’s heavenly tongue. Each time his wet, pointed muscles flicks over my sensitive neck, I whimper and squeeze my thighs together, trying to lessen the pressure building inside as much as I can, to no avail. At some point my hand gets lost in his soft hair, tugging sharply as each new wave of euphoria envelops me, and he groans deeply into my neck which only amplifies my arousal.

I am aware of the growing erection pressed against my lower back that twitches every time I pull his hair, but I’m not opposed to it anymore, at this point I would welcome any relief that he could give me. All too soon, Tae stops sucking at the small punctures in my neck and somehow seals them so that I am no longer bleeding freely. His fingers tilt my head to his and I see him lick the last traces of my blood from his lips before he moves in to connect our mouths in a kiss, stopping just before they touch, respectfully waiting for me to decide if I am ready. I don’t hesitate and hungrily press my lips against his.

The kiss is hot and rough, and he almost immediately slips his tongue against mine and the slight taste of metal and salt fills my mouth. We are ravenous with lust, Jungkook forgotten until he impatiently grunts in disapproval.

“Not yet, Taehyung. I’m thirsty.” I can hear the strain in his cracked voice as he tries to control his Blood Lust.

Tae reluctantly pulls away from me and I’m devastated that his tongue is no longer tied with mine, but I concede to Jungkook without hesitation as well. I offer the unmarked side of my neck, but he just gently pushes me back until Tae is cradling my upper body in his lap, a fluffy pillow placed under my head to keep me comfortable.

“I don’t usually go for the neck, I prefer the femoral.”

I rack my brain, trying to remember where the femoral artery is. Jungkook scoots down the bed and removes my shoes and socks faster than I can see, his hands a blur, and then peels off my leather pants to reveal my simple black lace underwear. I try to cross my legs over myself in an attempt to be modest but Jungkook is so strong, too strong, and I can’t fight him when he roughly pulls my knees apart and pins my legs down. His eyes bore into mine while he slowly trails kisses up my left leg, sucking and licking knots of want into my stomach with each star burst that appears on my skin. The sight of it is so erotic and sexy and predatory, I become a panting, moaning mess underneath him. By now his irises are completely blood red and faint black veins appear under the thin, pink skin around his eyes. As he makes his way further up, he stops at the inner part of my upper thigh and moves my leg so it lays flat against the bed and he has clear access to my smooth, soft flesh.

“The scent of your arousal is almost too good to avoid, I’m not sure what I’m hungrier for at the moment…”

But clearly, my blood was more important since he chose to bite down harshly on my inner thigh, close enough to my core to make me whine and whimper in disappointment. Jungkook’s fangs are slightly longer and thicker than Taehyungs are, and they inflict more pain as he clamps down and sucks hard, but that pain fades just as it did before, replaced by an indescribable bliss.

“Fuck…Fuck…” I moan. Tae must find something in my weak voice to be concerned about.

“Are you okay, Love? Do you need a break?”

His hands cradle my face and I peer up at him with watery eyes as he looks down upon me, his bangs falling into his eyes and he looks so beautiful like that, so sexy that it hurts.

“I – I – I need you. I feel like I’m… going to explode…” I pant out, in a strained voice.

Tae smiles and his tongue teases at his lips before he speaks again.

“What do you need from me [Y/N]?”

He knows what I need, I can see it in the hot glint in his eyes as he drinks in my wrecked state, flushed and disheveled below him.

“I – I need you to fuck me, please…” I beg.

The smirk on his lips falters slightly and I notice his eyes shut as pleasure runs up his spine.

“Shit, you sounds so good when you beg. Jungkook, I think it’s time to stop now.” He orders.

But Jungkook has already stopped. Just as Tae speaks, he rips off my underwear and tosses the scraps of lace to the ground and runs a finger lightly across my slick folds and I cry out at how sensitive I am, gripping the bed sheets with one hand and Taehyung with the other.

“You little -!”

Jungkook cuts the older boy off by gripping my hips and yanking me down the bed until my bottom is at the edge and my legs are hanging around his shoulder as he kneels on the ground in front of my wet mound.

“I’ll be that you taste just as good here.” Jungkook purrs.

“I’m sure she does.” Taehyung agrees.

I prop myself up on my elbows, eager to see his red lips and tongue touch me where I ached the most. He eyes me one last time before his face disappears and he dips his tongue into my throbbing opening, shallow fucking me with his mouth, his tongue gliding in and out easily, aided with my natural lubricant.

“OH GOD!”

I throw my head back and my voice reverberates against the walls, and I’m glad they are supposedly soundproof.

“Oh fu—mm, shit…” I don’t know which words to use so I just let them all fall from my lips as his tongue slides up and circles my swollen clit, my legs twitching with every tingle that his tongue elicits.

Taehyung circles to the side of me and pops open the front closures of my corset, freeing my breasts from their confines. He has already taken off his sweater and his hair is ruffled and messy from pulling it over his head and his large erection is easily visible as it strains against the shiny leather of his pants.

I eagerly slide my hands down his smooth stomach and grasp at the bulge, sighing at how rock hard he is. Grabbing onto the edge of his pants, I pull him closer to me on the bed and fumble with the button as Jungkook continues to swirl his tongue right on the tip of my bundle of nerves. Just as I peel down his pants and underwear enough to grip Tae’s dick, Jungkook inserts his middle finger into my swollen core and pumps it back and forth, forcing me to tighten my hold on Tae and cry out.

“Jungkook-ah! That feels so good, don’t stop.”

He grunts in acknowledgement and continues to massage my inner walls. I fall to my back and began working my hand over Tae’s thick shaft, using my thumb to circle the head and smear the oozing pre-cum that beaded at the tip. His eyes close and he bites his lip, moaning as I increase my speed and pressure.

“You’re so good with your hands, I want to see what you can do with your mouth. Open wide for me, Love.”

I do as he says and part my lips, as the tip presses against them, licking the head before letting him enter completely. I bob my head slowly at first, hollowing my cheeks and sucking harshly while swirling my tongue on his sensitive tip, but he soon takes control and cradles me head as he thrusts inside my warm cavern. Jungkook adds another finger and curls them up, stroking me while quickly flicking his pointed tongue just over the top of my clit. High pitched whines vibrate over Tae’s cock and he bucks into my mouth harshly, making me choke slightly.

“I’m sorry, Love. You feel so fucking good on my cock. Can you deep throat me? Can you try that for me?”

I nod slightly and hum on him, loving the way his voice is dirty yet caring, and he slowly moves deeper into my mouth, letting me adjust my throat to the invasion. My gag reflex barely triggers so he moves faster, both hands now gripping my hair and thumbs stroking my face, wiping away the occasional tear that forms in the corner of my eyes. I’m glad he’s in control because I can barely focus from the pleasure that is building up inside of me from Jungkook’s skillful hands and mouth.

“You taste so sweet [Y/N], I want you to come in my mouth.”

My eyes flutter at Jungkook’s dirty words and they bring me even closer to my orgasm. I glance at him momentarily as he returns his mouth to me and I can see one arm is moving furiously but it is not touching me. The thought of him stroking himself while he eats me out is too much and I release Tae to scream as my orgasm overtakes me and I flow right into his mouth like he wanted.

“Jungkook! I’m coming!”

Desperate whimpers echo through the room as my body shudders and quakes, a tingling sensation radiating from my clit throughout my body. My hands shoot to Jungkook’s head and I grip his soft hair, holding on as my climax comes to an end. Jungkook rises from his knees, all his clothes still on except his jeans are unbuttoned and his long, erect cock is out, flat against his stomach. His lips and chin are glossy from my wetness as he beckons Taehyung over to him.

“Hyung, come taste how delicious she is.”

He holds out his still wet fingers and Tae immediately grabs his hand and sucks off my cum, moaning around Jungkook’s digits. He continues to taste while staring into Jungkook’s hooded eyes, the sensuality of his actions increasing with every second that passes. Finally, he lets the other boys fingers slide out of his mouth.

“He’s right, you do taste amazing. I think I want some more.”

Taehyung presses his body into Kookie’s and connects their mouths in an open kiss, tongues sliding against each other and erections brushing together. He licks off all my cum from Jungkook’s face and then grabs the hem of his shirt and swiftly pulls it over his head. All I can do is sit in the bed and watch, completely in awe and aroused by the eroticism of them making out in front of me. Jungkook is more muscularly defined than Taehyung, his abs popping out slightly from his tight stomach. His strong arms grip Tae’s hips as they deepen their kiss, moans slipping from the both of them. My core begins to throb again and a whimper escapes me; I want to join in too.

“I think we are being rude to [Y/N], hyung.”

Jungkook breaks away first and moves toward me, kicking off his shoes and socks along the way.

“That was really sexy, I’ll have to see you guys together more often.” I say, properly speaking for the first time.

“Any time, Love. I think I like you. We’ll have to request you exclusively from now on.” said Taehyung.

Excitement burned at the back of my mind and down my neck at the mention of a next time, yet we weren’t even finished with ‘this time’. Jungkook pushes down his pants, throws them to the floor, and then grabs his leaking cock, stroking it slowly and coating himself in his pre-cum.

“Lie down.” He commands. I obey immediately. The difference between the cute, shy boy and the dominant sex god in front of me is exhilarating.

“Spread your legs for me. I’ll try to go easy on you. For now.”

The silent promise that he would be rough made my walls contract and a shiver ran up my spine. I wanted to see how dominant and rough he could be, so instead of completely opening my legs wide, I open just a little, teasing him with a glance at my sex.

“I said- “ he gripped each knee and slammed them apart, a dark look in his eyes and his fangs extended slightly with agitation. “ -spread your legs.”

“Don’t be a bad girl, now. Or I’ll have to punish you.” At the word ‘punish’, he forced into me without any warning and my back arched from the pleasure and pain.

“AH! Fuck me! Yes!”

His hips drew back and snapped back into me and I moaned loudly again, writhing as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

“Do you like it when I punish you?”

His voice came out as a deep, dangerous growl and oozed sex. He thrusted hard into me again, his hands holding my legs above me for support so that my knees were close to my head.

“Yes! Jungkook, go harder.” I begged.

My face felt hot and sweaty and every part of me ached to be touched, ravished. My hair had fallen from the pins that were holding it up and became a mess around my face, pieces sticking to my forehead and cheeks. I reached up, my abs burning from the strain, and grabbed his hips, both to help support me and to pull him further inside. Jungkook’s hand fell from my legs and landed on the bed on both sides of me and he met me halfway, lips meeting in a hard, open mouthed kiss. His cock thrusted into me slowly but filled me up completely each time, loud slaps sounding in the air when his skin smacked into mine. His tongue tasted sweet and spicy, like cinnamon candy, and my stomach twisted with pleasure when he wrapped it around mine and sucked erotically. High pitched sounds escapes my mouth and I spoke in a breathy voice.

“Mmm, Jungkook, fuck me faster.”

He hissed out a string of curses and pushed me down into the bed, hands at my waist, holding me down as he sped up his rhythm. One hand traveled up my torso until he reached one peaked nipple and began to pinch and twist at my sensitive pink nub. It felt so good to have one nipple stimulated that I began to rub and pinch my other, but Tae slapped my hand away and flicked his wet tongue out and licked it instead.

“Let me play with you, Love.” He moaned around my nipple and began to suck and swirl his muscle around the top, occasionally nibbling on it and gaining a lewd noise from me.

“Tae, that feels good. Don’t stop. Ah! Faster Jungkook, faster…”

My orgasm built up in my lower stomach as they both overstimulate me. Taehyung is pushed out of the way as Jungkook bends down and slips his arms underneath me. I can feel his hot, ragged breath on my neck and I can hear him pant as his hips rock into me at a blinding pace. I find his mouth and our kiss is sloppy and wet, and I explore, tongue sliding over tongue and fang. As soon as I scrape the tip over his sharp point, he jerks his head away, careful not to draw any more blood. He kisses down my cheek and along my jaw, trailing down to the sensitive spot where Taehyung left two bite marks, and sucks harshly at the wound. I try to move slightly away but his hand wraps around my throat and applies just enough pressure to stop me, slightly cutting off my airway in the process, but I like it. His lips find the crook between my neck and shoulder and I sigh in ecstasy.

“Bite me. Please.”

He groans at my request and I can tell he is just as close to release as me because his breathing is faster and higher and his movements become frantic and uneven.

“I – I can’t. I’ve already… taken too much.”

His voice is gruff and ragged as he denies me, although his teeth are nibbling at my skin as though he really wants too. I wrap my hands tightly around his neck and back and press his face into my neck as hard as I can.

“Fucking. Bite me!”

I clench my walls around him and my nails scrape down his back and I know I’ve broken skin. His head rears back and I see his fangs drop down completely and his eyes roll back behind his eyelids. With a guttural growl, his head whips down and that searing hot pain-pleasure fills me up in all the places that my orgasm could not reach, lighting me up like a bulb.

“I’m – I’m gonna – I’m gonna cum!”

My climax exploded in me like a bomb and I contract and release fast around his cock and drive him over the edge with me, his grunts and moans like music to my ears. Jungkook squeezes his eyes closed and his jaw has gone slack, his chin stained with my red blood. The sight should terrify me or make me sick to my stomach but it doesn’t.

“Fuck! You feel so good, [Y/N]!”

His seed shoots into me, hot and sticky. His thrusts slow drastically but they do not stop as he milks every last drop of pleasure from himself. A warmness spreads through my chest and mixes with the ravenous lust within me.

“I can’t take it anymore, seeing you two like this. I need you too [Y/N].” croaked Taehyung, his hand pumping furiously around his erection as he watches Jungkook slide in and out of me.

Jungkook flips us so that he is laying underneath me and I slide off of him, my body twitching as his tip glides over my sensitive spot again. Even though his turn is over, his hands and eyes never leave me as Tae takes over.

“Let’s pick up where we left off shall we?”

He turns our bodies so Jungkook has a full side view of us as he touches his lips to mine. My arms wrap around his form and pull him closer to me until our fronts are touching and Taehyung grips my back, his mouth sucking its way down my neck and collar bone until he reaches my nipples. I arch my back into his mouth and sigh as his tongue licks over my sensitive buds and occasionally bites down so that I make a sharp whimpering sound.

“I want to hear you, I want you to be so loud that I can still hear your screams tomorrow, okay?”

“Yes, Taehyung.”

“Good girl.”

He continues to kiss down my torso, licking inside of my belly button and I giggle at the slight tickle. I feel Taehyung smile against my navel as he presses a kiss to it before nibbling at my hips bones. My head tilts back at the sudden pleasure that churns in my lower stomach and I emit a low moan and shiver as I tangle my hands in his hair one more time. Hand hands grip my hips and the sharp points of his nails cut into my soft skin. I hiss at the sudden sting but it doesn’t hurt too much so I’m not worried. Tae’s wicked tongue catches the tiny drops of blood that bead at the incision, and he sucks dark purple and blue swirls over them. Sweet kisses trail back up to my mouth and he is licking at my upper lip, while his strong hands grip and knead my butt. A sudden, harsh slap to my left cheek makes me jump and squeal in surprise and he invades my mouth with his, tongue running over my own muscle as he groans and slaps the same cheek again. My skin burns and pricks where his hand print resides but he continues to slap my ass and tease my mouth until I am grinding my hips against his erection and panting with need.

My hand travels south to wrap around his cock and I tease the head with my entrance, running it up and down my slit and dipping it just inside me until Taehyung can’t take it anymore.

“Fuck!” He bites my lip and scrapes his teeth over the surface.

“Turn around and bend over, [Y/N]. Give Jungkook a kiss.”

His voice deepens and he flips me over onto Jungkook and pushes his hand up my back so that I am straddling the boy with my face over his and my ass in the air. We intertwine our hands and exchange light kisses as Tae teases his cock just past my entrance over and over again and it feels so good but I want more, so I push back on him until he slides in further.

“Oh Tae!”

My mouth opens in gasp as he fills me to the brim and rocks his hips against mine, swirling into me and stretching me to fit him.

My upper body drops onto Jungkook and I rest my face in his neck, softly biting on his skin and mewling from Taehyung’s slow, torturous pace inside me. Suddenly, Jungkook’s hand is at my clitoris, matching Tae’s pace and I would’ve collapsed if I wasn’t being held up from behind by my hips. A slight cry floats from me and I kiss Jungkook’s face, his damp hair filtering through my fingers as I smooth it away from his forehead and lay a kiss down right in the middle. I falter and my body shakes as his fingertips grazes faster around my clit and I repeatedly whisper out strangled versions of his name. Just as I am beginning to crumble, Tae drives into me fast and hard, assaulting that spot within me until I’m spilling profanities. He slaps down on my butt so hard that I scream out and growl as he rubs away the sharp burn.

“AH! TAE! FUCK ME HARDER!”

I’m surprised by myself; I have never been this vocal or intense before, but then again, all the sex I’ve ever had could never compare to the amount of mind numbing pleasure that these two boys were giving me.

Taehyung bends over my back and I can feel his words against my ear as he whispers and bites at the lobe.

“Do I feel good inside of you, Love?”

I close my eyes at that word. Somehow, I have grown fond of that word, Love, even though pet names have never interested me. Hearing him croon “Love” to me in that voice; it makes me weak.

“Yes, Teahung, Yes! I love – it so much!”

I startle momentarily, my eyes snapping open at what I had wanted to say instead. You. I love you. Where had that come from? I had caught myself just in time but my pause went unnoticed it seemed. His mouth sucked on the back of my neck, a new erogenous zone I didn’t know I had, and I felt myself bubble up dangerously high to another breathtaking orgasm.

“Fuck! You’re so tight, I can’t hold back anymore [Y/N]”

His pace reaches a speed and strength I have never felt before and Jungkook Increases his pace as well until I am twitching and shaking in between these beautiful Vampyres.

“I’m gonna cum, Tae!”

“Cum for me, Love. Cum with me.” he pants out, his hips erratic and forceful against mine.

My eyes flutter open and closed and I gaze at Jungkook’s eyes in between my lashes. They are clouded and churning as they bore into mine, full of heat, both warm and scalding at the same time. His free hand reaches up and cups my cheek, thumb smoothing over my lips. He catches my lips in an open mouth kiss and our tongue glide against each other.

That warmth from before grows and expands in my chest, making it hard to breathe and I am falling over the edge into the abyss. One more thrust and one more stroke and I burst and pulse around Tae and he is soon to follow, my high pitched screams melting with his low moans and grunts. I faintly feel him slip out of me, my walls still throbbing, and fall to the bed. Exhaustion overcomes me and I collapse, out of breath, upon Jungkook who strokes my hair and shifts me so I am comfortably laying in between both of the boys. I am hot and sweaty and weak, all my left over energy being spent on thinking about sleep. I feel as if I am being pulled into a darkness and it is difficult to open my eyes but Jungkook insists that I must.

“[Y/N], you can’t sleep yet. Here, drink.”

Something warm, wet, and fleshy presses against my lips but I can only groan out in protest.

“Please” he begs. “You have to, we took too much blood, you’re too weak right now.”

Something in the way his voice is desperate and almost afraid makes me cease my struggle. He presses the object to my lips again and I part my lips as much as I can and a sickly sweet liquid fills my mouth. I try to fight but Tae holds my head fast and the thick, warm liquid running down my throat.

“Shhh, Love. It’s alright…”

His honey voice and Kook’s stroking hand quiet the muffled sounds I am making and my body relaxes into their forms as I drink in what I’m sure is their own blood.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” Taehyung suggests, and the wrist leaves my mouth.

Soft, caring hands wipe my face and pull the thick fluffy, red covers over our bodies and I am so comfortable and happy that I smile as I drift off. My heavy, slow breathing must fool them into thinking I have completely fallen asleep because they begin to converse in hushed tones.

“We took too much from her, Jungkook. We lost control. We can’t do that again.” Taehyungs voice vibrates soothingly against my back and his arms are around my waist, cradling me against him.

“I know. I haven’t lost control like that since…. I was turned.” his words were broken and filled with unspoken memories that seemed to haunt him.

“I was scared there for a second, hyung. I thought it happened again. –“ Jungkook’s fingers brushed away the sleepy tears that had bubbled up and ran from my eyes, a weird habit that I had always had.

“- she reminds me of her so much. She even cries in her sleep…” he whispered the last part, almost to himself it seemed.

“Did you bond with her?” asked Taehyung.

“Yes.” Said Jungkook. “Did you?”

There was a long moment of silence and I nearly succumbed to the comfortable darkness when Taehyung finally spoke again.

“…Yes.”

#bts #bts smut #bite smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #namjoon #jimin #suga #yoongi #hoseok #jhope #hobi #jin seokjin #rm

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the-literalist · 6 years

Text

Spare Me Some Time (11)

Pairing: USUK

Word Count: 4526

Summary: Alfred Jones is as poor as they get, living homeless on the streets. He is the type of man that high-paid businessman Arthur Kirkland would never spare a passing glance, but that’s about to change.

Link to the full story on AO3

Alfred hadn’t been to a Starbucks in forever. He thought that the coffee was pretty decent, but it was way too expensive and so he tended not to splurge on a drink he could get somewhere else for half the cost. They did offer some pretty interesting flavors though, all equally sweet and delicious, and Alfred felt his mouth watering just roaming his eyes over the menu posted on the wall.

He finally decided on a decadent chocolate Frappuccino, piled high with whipped cream and syrup drizzled over the top. Oh man, he was going to enjoy this to the very last drop. When was the last time he had a treat like this? He almost couldn’t believe that Arthur actually proposed to come here, it seemed like the man had never set foot in a Starbucks before.

Alfred watched Arthur with humored interest; the shorter man had spent a great deal of time racking his eyes over the menu only to grow more and more irritated (no doubt because he couldn’t find his desired tea as an option).

“Excuse me,” Arthur called out to the barista who had been waiting for him to pick something and pay. “Where is your tea selection? I don’t want a chai latte tazo whatever-the-hell! I just want a normal tea, hot – as it should be. None of that iced crap!”

The barista stared at him, unimpressed, and blinked slowly. “We have plenty of choices,” she stated while bringing up a box full of different brands. “Green, black, white, herbal – take your pick.”

Arthur murmured a “that’s more like it” under his breath before taking the box from her and rummaging through it.

Alfred stood off to the side with his drink already made, watching the line gradually get longer and longer behind Arthur. He knew by now that Arthur was a no-shame kind of guy, he probably didn’t care that people were waiting. Unfortunately, the barista did.

“Sir, have you decided yet?” she asked with a rushed inclination, gesturing vaguely to the box in Arthur’s hands.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “This is a very delicate procedure. If I pick the wrong tea, it could completely ruin the rest of my day. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He picked up two different tea bags and studied them closely.

Alfred had to bite his lip from chuckling at the barista’s reaction, she looked like she was ready to explode.

“Sir,” she tried, “please pick one!”

“Fine, you inconsiderate slag. I’ll take this herbal one then,” he said while thrusting the tea bag in front of her. Alfred’s eyebrows shot up, damn Arthur was nasty sometimes!

She took it in a huff and then got a cup from the side. “Name?”

“Beg your pardon?”

Alfred leaned in close to Arthur, “She needs your name to write on the cup.”

The Englishman hummed in reply, “It’s Arthur.”

The barista looked at him, “Author?”

He frowned. “No. Arthur.”

“Oh I’m sorry, I can’t understand your accent. Can you repeat that again?” Alfred covered his mouth to hide his giggles. The barista was totally fucking with him and he couldn’t say that Arthur didn’t deserve it. That’s what happens when you treat workers in New York City rudely.

And Arthur looked more pissed then ever. “My accent is perfectly understandable thank you! You need to get your hearing checked. And you know what, make that Mr. Kirklandto you.”

The barista looked at him with an unreadable expression. “Of course, Mr. Kirkland,” she said with false innocence while scribbling the name on the cup.

After paying for the two drinks and finally allowing the next couple in line to order, Alfred and Arthur moved to the side.

“So it’s your first time in a Starbucks?” Alfred asked, already knowing the answer. “Yes, and my last! I suggested going here because I always hear how obsessed Americans are with the place. God only knows why...I just thought you’d prefer this to other cafes.” He pointed down to the giant Frappuccino in Alfred’s hands, “and I doubt you’d be able to find that monstrosity elsewhere. It looks disgusting by the way.” Alfred pouted, “Hey! Don’t judge! This shit is delicious, you gotta try it.” He held it out to Arthur who put his hand up in disgust.

“No thanks, I’ll wait for my tea while you subject your body to diabetes.”

“Rude,” Alfred stuck his tongue out at him.

Finally a different barista placed a ready-made hot tea on the counter and called out, “Mr. Cockland? Tea for Mr. Cockland?”

Alfred’s face scrunched up before he burst out laughing. Arthur on the other hand turned bright red. Then he whirled his head around to the register where the first barista was. She looked at him and gave the sweetest smile before turning back to the client she was helping.

Arthur’s eye twitched. He grabbed his drink off the counter and then grabbed Alfred’s shirt to drag him out of the coffee shop.

When they were safely outside and Alfred’s laughter died down, he took a moment to appreciate just how angry the other man looked. “C’mon, you have to admit that was funny.”

“No it was not! It was inappropriate, and uncalled for I might add. She’s lucky I don’t report her,” he tapped his foot irately.

Alfred rolled his eyes, “Yeah but you were kind of a douchebag.”

“What are you saying? That I deserved it?” Arthur narrowed his piercing green eyes at him, and it reminded Alfred so much of a few days earlier when Arthur had yelled at him for trying to return his money.

He tried to hide the sudden stab of dejection. “I’m just saying you should be nicer to people, especially when their job is to serve you. You shouldn’t act like you’re better than them, that’s all. Everyone deserves respect…servers, waiters…even the homeless,” he tacked on.

The other man started to fidget uncomfortably, mulling over Alfred’s words. He turned the cup over in his hands to look at the name ‘Mr. Cockland’ written across it in big black letters. Finally he let out a heavy sigh and raked a hand through his hair. “You’re right. I…need to work on that don’t I?”

Alfred gave him a small smile and stated encouragingly, “Don’t worry, I can help you.”

“You think you can reverse three decades of mistrust and egotism thrust on me by my family and friends?”

Alfred beamed at him, undaunted. “Of course!”

His positivity must have been infectious because Arthur smiled back at him. “Okay then. Before we start training,” he started jokingly, “why don’t we sit and enjoy our drinks?” He motioned to the outdoor seating area, where there was an empty table with two chairs.

“Sure,” Alfred affirmed as they made their way over and sat down.

Arthur snorted, “So is this what Americans do to pass time? Buy overpriced coffee and talk aimlessly for hours?”

The younger man tapped his chin in fake thought, “Hmmmm well yeah, mostly the chicks though. Or people on dates.” Shit, he did not mean to say that last part. He didn’t let Arthur ponder his words before asking quickly, “Why, what do British people do?”

“Go to a pub of course, I must say I’d fancy a pint after that interaction with the barista…” He put his elbow on the table and held his chin in his hand.

“Hahaha! It’s too early to drink!”

Arthur looked at him incredulously before asserting, “It’s nevertoo early to drink.”

Alfred couldn’t tell if he was kidding but it seemed like he wasn’t. He mentally added ‘heavy drinker’ to his steadily-growing list of things he knew about the Englishman.

“You Brits must really like your liquor,” he said amusingly.

“Oh you don’t know the half of it. I could drink anyone under the table in my hometown,” Arthur stated confidently with a smirk on his face.

Alfred smirked back at him. “Impressive. I’m not a huge drinker though, I’ll leave that to you.” He threw in a wink for good measure.

“Well that’s a shame… so you don’t know of any good pubs around here then?”

“Um no not really, I’ve never really been to a pub actually, I prefer clubs so I can dance. Pubs just make me think of tiny, dimly lit bars that serve fish and chips with beer. Not really my thing.”

Arthur did not look happy. And he was definitely pouting. “That’s not all that pubs have to offer! Especially in England! I don’t know what kind of crap goes on here but there has to be an authentic English pub somewhere in this godforsaken city.”

Alfred laughed. “You’re probably right. We’ll just have to do a bar crawl one night to find the best English pub!”

The Englishman contemplated this before nodding in agreement.

They went on to discuss other topics, from their alcoholic drinks of choice to their college experiences, to favorite subjects in school, and Alfred even got Arthur to open up about his childhood a bit!

An hour and a half had gone by before Alfred started thinking more and more about how much it felt like a date. The two of them, sitting outside enjoying the sunny weather talking and laughing and generally enjoying each others’ company. It was exciting of course, but he also didn’t know if his companion felt the same attraction. He still didn’t even know if the man swung that way! Alfred had let his sexuality slip the night before, but Arthur hadn’t alluded to his own preferences, and Alfred wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

It was also weird that Arthur was paying for everything. Alfred felt bad about it, of course, but it wasn’t like he had any money anyway and Arthur clearly had the funds and had no qualms with spending it. The guy was seriously loaded. And Alfred was only a little bit jealous.

If he had that kind of money he was be donating it to charities to give back to the community. Of course he had nothing against the Englishman about spending his own money however he wanted… it was just interesting seeing the contrast between their two upbringings and lifestyles. Alfred had never been on a date with someone posh, or ‘bougie’, or whatever. He tended to go for the tamer, quieter, and laid back men – the ones who had a few part time jobs and preferred to play video games rather than go to work.

Arthur wasn’t like that at all. He was hot-headed, quick-witted, and devoted to the painstaking time and effort to do good work. Alfred could tell the man was a force to be reckoned with. And, for some reason, he really liked it. He liked that Arthur was sarcastic and honest and spoke his mind even when he probably shouldn’t. He liked that the man acted all tough and fierce one second but the next turned all wide-eyed and adorable the next second.

Speaking of his eyes, they were just gorgeous. Green eyes were rare in general but Arthur’s were absolutely mesmerizing. The way the light was reflected in the little gold flecks of his irises captivated Alfred and he couldn’t stop staring, watching Arthur talk animatedly until he paused and gave Alfred a weird look.

“Well?”

Alfred shook his head to redirect his attention; he had completely zoned out. “Huh? Sorry, what’d you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to move on to the suit shopping?”

“Aw but I was having so much fun here!”

“You weren’t even listening to me while I was speaking!” Arthur shouted, scowling at him.

“I sorta was,” he giggled, shrugging his shoulders and radiating innocence.

“My arse you were,” was the response. He abruptly stood up, grabbing the long-finished cups off the table and tossing them in the garbage. “Are you coming or not?”

“Yeah yeah hold your horses,” Alfred replied whilst standing and stretching his arms up to the sky.

They weaved their way through the people sitting and chatting and started down the street. Arthur was using the GPS on his phone in order to find the ‘perfect’ place to buy nicely tailored suits and Alfred followed his lead.

After only walking a few blocks, Arthur came to a halt in front of a store with a name that Alfred couldn’t pronounce. There were luxurious tuxedos on perfectly posed mannequins in the window and even the tiny light bulbs in the display case looked expensive. Alfred’s stomach dropped. This was the kind of store he wouldn’t spare a passing glance; he didn’t belong here!

Arthur held the door open and when he noticed that Alfred was not inching any closer, he dragged him inside whispering “it’ll be fine”.

The place was a lot bigger than it looked. Tons of suits lined the walls, sorted by color and style. There was a section for wedding suits, professional suits, everyday suits – what the heck was an everyday suit?? It was very overwhelming, and Alfred couldn’t help but feel extremely out of place surrounded by such affluent clothing.

A clerk spotted the two men and approached them. “How can I help you two today?”

Arthur took the lead. “Well, we were hoping to find a classic suit for him,” he gestured to Alfred with a nod.

The clerk responded, “Very well, follow me please.” He brought them to a long line of suits toward the back of the shop, a varying array of blues and blacks poking out from the rack.

Alfred gulped. They all looked exactly the same! How was he supposed to pick one?

Thank god Arthur seemed to know the “ins and outs” of suit shopping. After pulling a bunch of suits from the rack and discussing with the clerk which would be the most appropriate for a typical work setting, he ushered Alfred along to the changing room to try them on.

He stared at himself in the big mirrors lining all sides of his dressing room, feeling caged and uncomfortable. In the brightness of the contained space he could see his body so clearly. Like the bags under his eyes and the gauntness of his face. He removed his shirt and examined the way his ribs bulged out. He had never looked so ugly, he decided. The lackluster eyes and pale skin was nothing reminiscent of how he used to look. Something had to change; he couldn’t go on looking like hallowed version of himself.

“Everything okay in there?” he heard Arthur ask from the other side of the closed door.

“Uh huh, hold on,” Alfred took the first suit off the hanger and quickly began to change, praying it wouldn’t look overly baggy on his emaciated figure.

He carefully stepped out of the changing room in a dark blue jacket and matching dress pants, awaiting a reaction from the Englishman.

Arthur looked pensive, with a hand on his chin in thought as he assessed Alfred’s outfit.

It was making him kinda nervous.

“Sooo, what do you think?”

Arthur came forward to button the first button on the jacket, and to hike up the pants so they weren’t hanging so low off Alfred’s hips. Alfred managed to not overtly blush at the manhandling, just letting Arthur tweak and correct any imperfections he saw.

At last he sighed and shook his head. “No, I’m afraid that look just doesn’t quite work for you. Let’s try the next.”

Alfred let out a sigh of his own, he had been secretly hoping for the ‘one and done’ kind of shopping trip but alas, the universe was not on his side today. He begrudgingly returned to the dressing room to try on the next suit, which turned into the next suit, which turned into the next…like seriously, Arthur was so picky! It wasn’t Alfred’s fault that he couldn’t rock the professional look like his British companion could.

When he finally emerged with one of the only remaining suits left to try on, he was expecting Arthur to turn it away like all the others, but instead Arthur’s eyes widened and he leaned forward.

“Ah! That one! It exudes classiness and sensibility. It’s bloody perfect. Finally, my god I thought we were never going to find one.” He smiled so beautifully at Alfred then that the taller man’s heart skipped a beat.

“Y-you really think so?” Alfred asked. Curse his stammering.

“Yes! It fits you exceptionally well,” he turned to a clerk in a nearby aisle. “Excuse me sir, we would like some advice on this suit that he has on. Do you think it needs to be hemmed at all?”

The dark-haired clerk came over to them before stopping abruptly.

“Alfred…is that really you?”

Oh shit. It was his old coworker and good friend, Kiku! What the hell was he doing working in this store?

He couldn’t keep that question to himself apparently. “Kiku oh my god! Long time no see! What are you doing here??” He put his hand out which Kiku took as the two shared a friendly handshake.

“Ah, I work here now. I stopped working at the videogame company only a little bit after you left. You were right about that place – so hostile and unpleasant.”

“I know right! I guess it’s a good thing you weren’t there for much longer after I got the boot, I bet you were hella bored,” he laughed merrily.

Kiku smiled tight and warm in response and then changed the subject. “I am surprised you are here in a suit, Alfred. This must be a very special occasion. Are you going to an event with your boyfriend?”

Alfred blushed from ear to ear as he looked to Arthur frantically. “Ohh no no hahaha he’s not- this is just my friend, Arthur! Sorry I totally forgot to introduce you guys.”

The Japanese man looked embarrassed as well. “Oh I’m very sorry, I should not have assumed anything,” he turned to Arthur and bowed slightly. “It is nice to meet you.”

Arthur lowered his head a bit as a show of courtesy. “Pleasure to meet you, Kiku.”

The blue-eyed man looked between the two, thrilled that one of his best friends and his newest friend were getting along nicely, albeit a tad awkward at the ‘boyfriend’ mention.

“The suit isn’t for an event of any kind, by the way. We were looking for something he could wear in a professional setting,” Arthur began, steering the conversation back to the reason they were in the store in the first place. “How do you think it fits him?”

Kiku approached Alfred to measure the lengths of the sleeves and pant legs against his body, and Alfred didn’t miss the frown at his Japanese friend’s lips. Suddenly nervous, he pulled absentmindedly at the lapels of the jacket. “Well? Do I look good or what?” He laughed anxiously.

“I believe it is a good fit for you. If the pants feel too long, I will recommend getting a little trimmed at the bottom, but I do not think it is necessary. With the proper shoes, I think this suit is a good match.”

Alfred looked to Arthur for his approval as well so he could finally get this damn thing off and into the regular comfortable clothes that were beckoning him from inside the changing room.

At last he was permitted to change and when he emerged, he carried the pristine suit over his arm, trying his best not to wrinkle or tamper it, lest he incur the Englishman’s wrath (and perhaps his Japanese friend’s wrath as well, though that was much rarer).

The two men had been engaging in small talk but stopped once Alfred was in front of them.

“Shall I get this paid for then?” Arthur questioned as he took the suit from Alfred’s arm.

“How expensive is it?” Whoops, didn’t mean to let that one slide out.

Arthur fished the price tag out of the fold and glanced down. “Not too bad, especially for this label, definitely worth it.” With that, he turned on his heel and headed to the register.

Alfred narrowed his eyes before he turned to Kiku. “How much is that suit?” He knew his friend wouldn’t lie to him, and now he had to know.

The shorter man looked uncomfortable. “It is around five hundred and fifty dollars.”

Blue eyes widened to abnormal proportions. “F-fi…five HUNDRED? Oh my god… That is literally insane. I can’t believe he’s doing this,” he murmured the last part mostly to himself but Kiku heard it anyway.

“Your friend is buying that for you? He is very generous,” there was a question of ‘why’ hanging in the air between his words but Alfred wasn’t going to indulge his curiosity, not now at least.

“Yeah he is. He’s a great guy,” Alfred said truthfully.

“Alfred, can I ask you a question? It is unrelated.”

“Yeah of course.”

“You look very different from the last time I saw you. Much more thin, and tired. Are you okay?”

Alfred gulped and rubbed the back of his neck, feigning ignorance. “Yeah dude I’m okay, I just lost some weight is all.”

His friend studied him for a moment before replying, “I know you better than that, I think. You seem to be lying.”

Okay but did Kiku really have to call him out like that? Couldn’t they all pretend everything was fine and dandy? He had never known his friend to be so direct with him before, apparently Alfred wasn’t the only person that had changed since they last saw each other.

He was trying to formulate his response when he saw Arthur making his way over to them with the newly purchased suit in tow.

This wasn’t the kind of conversation he wanted to have in general, least of all in front of Arthur. He definitely missed Kiku and wouldn’t mind hanging out again in the future, and maybe by then he would be able to open up about the struggles he had faced over the last half-year, but now just wasn’t the right time.

“Kiku, it was really great seeing you, but I think we’re going to head out now.” He tried to smile without giving away his discomfort as he turned away toward the door.

Arthur stopped him, “Oh we’re in no rush. If you’d like to stay and chat with him, it’s no issue.”

The dark-eyed man kept glancing between the two of them, no doubt evaluating the situation and trying to come to a reasonable conclusion for why Alfred was acting so weird. Alfred didn’t blame him for wanting more information, but this was just so freakin’ awkward!

At last Kiku opened his mouth again. “I should help other clients again anyway, so I do not mind if you need to leave. But first I want to invite you to my apartment next week, I am having friends over for a videogame party. We will try out all these new games I got recently. Do you want to come?”

It wasn’t often that Alfred was left speechless, but this was one of those times. He had no idea what to say.

“Uhhh, I– uhhhh,” he sputtered gracefully.

“You do not need to give me an answer now!” Kiku supplied urgently, “You can always text me when you decide.”

Alfred nodded dumbly in response.

“Do you still have my phone number? I have tried texting you multiple times the last few months but you didn’t answer. I was unsure if you lost your phone, or if you got a new number.”

Sweat was starting to drip down Alfred’s temple, and his hands were clenching and unclenching at their own accord. He thought back to the crappy phone with a cracked screen he hadn’t been able to use in months, that was currently stuffed in his tote bag at Arthur’s place. He hadn’t used it since the battery died after he had been forced out of his apartment, and he obviously couldn’t pay his phone bill so it wasn’t like he could use it for anything other than the stupid game apps he had installed to stave off boredom. Suddenly he thought about how many calls he had missed, how many texts had gone unanswered. Looking down, he hadn’t realized his eyes started to water.

So, so much shame.

Arthur’s worried hand was on him in an instant and he heard Kiku start to frantically reconcile for damage that he didn’t cause.

“Alfred, forgive me, I did not mean to make you upset. You do not need to answer about the party or the phone. I only asked because I miss your company.”

And if that just about made Alfred burst into tears right there…

“N-no it’s okay. Sorry, I just-” he wiped at his face desperately, hoping that the other patrons weren’t looking in their direction witnessing him cascade into a state of panic. He took a couple of deep breaths as Arthur continued to squeeze his shoulder soothingly.

“Kiku, I-” he tried and failed to even his voice out.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. You don’t need to speak right now,” said Arthur gently. Alfred took another deep breath, feeling himself calm immensely from the Englishman’s pacifying voice and comforting touch.

This time when he wiped at his face, the tears didn’t reappear. And when he felt prepared, he lifted his head to look at the two worried men in front of him.

“Thank you. I just…Kiku I want to tell you everything that happened since I got fired from that shithole of a company, but I’m not ready yet. Just know that I haven’t been able to use my phone in months, so honestly I don’t know how I can contact you.” He shook his head sadly.

“Do you havea phone?” Arthur asked him, seemingly perplexed at the notion.

“Yeah, I do. It’s long-dead though. Not sure if it’ll turn on when I charge it but I can try. And I’m not gonna have service or anything since I don’t have a phone plan anymore.”

At this, Arthur perked up. “Oh don’t worry yourself with that! We’ll get you set up with a new plan and everything, not a trouble at all.”

Alfred stared at him, debating whether or not to fight the offer, but already knowing how it would play out. How quickly they had developed a pattern of behavior.

He smiled at him, “Thanks dude, you’re the best. Seriously.”

Arthur blushed slightly, “Nonsense.” Then he faced Kiku before taking out his own phone. “I can take down your information just in case the data was lost and we need to get him a new one.”

Kiku smiled and exchanged information with Arthur whilst the tallest of the group watched on.

At last they all said their goodbyes (and Kiku was blessed with a tight hug from Alfred) before the two blondes exited the store. They had only made it a couple of paces on the sidewalk before Arthur turned to him and stated, “You have good taste in friends.”

Alfred couldn’t help but agree.

#usuk #ukus #hetalia #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland #alfred jones #kiku honda #my fanfiction #my stories #my story #fanfiction #fanfic #usuk fanfic #homeless #businessman #AO3 #libertea

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toast-tit · 6 years

Text

Piano Man

Chapter Eight

mob!Tom x reader

Warnings: language, violence

A/N: Thank god this is the last chapter holy shit. I liked writing this but ngl there was no outline so I was pulling everything out of my ass and it shows lol. Anywho...I’ll probably have something else within the next few weeks or if any of you guys have any requests I’ll take them.

Summary: The Ecclesiastes Pub catered to a plethora of people. Prostitutes, college students, successful businessmen and London’s most wanted. Bartenders and waitresses learned to tune out conversations from their customers quickly if they wanted to keep their head. However, people will still come looking for trouble, even if that trouble revolves around Tom Holland, the most feared mob boss around.

~ ~ ~

I woke up to the faint beeping of the heart monitor, signifying the fact that I was still alive. Blinking rapidly, I tried to get ahold of my surroundings until I realized I was in the hospital. Beside me were two large vases of flowers and some other gifts and the walls were a blinding white that I had no desire to see ever again. I sat up and groaned at the pain, wishing there was more morphine in my system.

To my right, Harrison was on his phone, tapping his foot obnoxiously. “Can you please stop doing that?” I croaked and his head shot up, clearly surprised that I was awake. “Holy fuck, you’re up,” he was breathless and stood up, about to rush out of the door and when I told him to stay.

“I need to tell Tom, Y/N,” he argued, but I shook my head. “I have questions,” I began to stutter around the last word, more or less because I was exhausted and would kill a man to go back to sleep. Harrison shook his head and shrugged, “Tom knows a lot more than I do. Let me get him.”

Harrison called Tom’s name and I heard shoes clang against the tile of the hospital, almost like he was running. Tom came into the room and his eyes widened at the fact that I was moving and awake. “Y/N,” his voice was barely audible. Before he came in, I figured I wouldn’t feel anything, it would just be him being concerned and whatnot, but I was dead wrong. Seeing his face was like flying; I felt the feeling in my stomach and chest that you get before you fall from a great height. My heart was practically living in my ass currently and my breathing began to quicken and I felt tears coming. It was almost definite by now that I was in love with him.

Tom had a few bruises and scratches on his face, but they looked pretty healed. Nevertheless, he looked fucking hot like that, like a sexy pirate or something. There was a look of concern and happiness plastered on his face and I badly wanted him to hug me, even if it would’ve been painful.

He made his way to my bedside and asked, “How do you feel?” His voice was soft and full of concern. I smiled lopsidedly and moved a little bit, wincing as I did so, “Like I got hit a fucking train. What about you? I see some battle wounds.” I lifted a shaking hand and placed it on his face, my thumb circling over a cut on his lip. He smiled slightly and put his hand over mine, “Nothing as serious as yours. Are you sure you’re fine? You can go back to sleep.”

I shook my head, “No, I have questions.” Tom nodded along, “Okay then, what are they?” “How long was I here, Tom?” I asked him and he put his hand on mine and stroke my thumb. “You were in a coma for six days, love. You lost so much blood they thought you weren’t going to make it,” he answered.

“Then how am I still here?” I asked. Harrison piped up, “Your blood type is very rare, Y/N, and it’s the same as mine, so I donated almost two pints.” “Jesus, that could’ve killed you!” I exclaimed, my throat hurting as my voice grew louder. Harrison shrugged, “I took my chances. I felt exhausted afterward, but not to the point where I was going to die.”

I felt tears welling in my eyes, gratitude washing over me. “Thank you so much,” a tear ran down my cheek and Harrison grinned happily. He winked and said cheekily, “You’re owe me one now, Y/L/N.” Giggling slightly, I sighed and asked, “When can I leave?”

Tom pondered for a moment before he said, “Tomorrow, I believe. But if you’re beginning to feel better, we can always do early checkout.” “Excellent,” I said whilst standing and stretching, wincing at the soreness. Harrison and Tom exchanged looks, but they did not doubt me. Instead, they helped me take the IVs out (which hurt like a motherfucker 10/10 would not recommend) and bring me a wheelchair so that they could escort me out.

It was a brisk Monday morning; the wind demanded to be acknowledged by those who dared to trek outside and the sun was hiding behind the clouds as if it were shy. The cool weather felt good and the fresh air was almost euphoric. I closed my eyes and soaked in whatever I could. “If you want to get a tan, I suggest a salon,” Harrison opened the car door for me and I entered giving him a dirty look.

I took a look of myself in the mirror and I wanted to cry. There was an ugly scar around my throat surround by massive blotches of purple, blue, and yellow. The bruises on my neck were either big or fingerprint shaped. My face was also very bruised and there was a scar on my cheekbone from I know not what. I’ve never really been insecure about what I had looked like before, but now I felt undeserving of the outside world. I felt like I should just cover up and stay quiet.

The ride home was indeed quiet. I stared out the window and pondered the manner of things as Tom and Harrison quietly conversed. They’d ask for my opinion on a few things, but never often. Harrison pulled into the house and Tom helped me out. My leg was still a bit bum, so he let me lean on him for support as we made our way in.

“You hungry?” Tom asked as he walked to the kitchen. I smiled shyly and shook my head. I instead went to the sink and filled a glass of water, downing it in seconds and then refilling the glass for a second. Tom leaned against the counter and looked at me. His eyes scanned up and down my body, making me feel like I should cover up more despite being in sweats. “Something wrong?” I asked, taking another sip of my water. He sighed and said, “You lost a lot of weight from the coma, just took me by surprise.”

I shrugged, “I’ve been meaning to lose some fat off my stomach for a while.” The two of us chuckled awkwardly, a thick silence began to shroud over us. “I’ll probably gain the weight back anyway once I get back in the gym with Harrison and all,” I sliced open the silence, “I’m sort of looking to build muscle more than anything. Plus, your cooking’s pretty phenomenal.”

Tom smiled sheepishly before he killed it off right away with a grimace. “I need to show you something,” he lightly wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me along. Tom opened a door and I was led downstairs into the basement, thought it seemed like a medieval dungeon with how poorly it was lit.

Any noise or humming that you could hear upstairs was immediately terminated from the basement. The only things I could hear were our footsteps and our breathing. As we kept going, I grew more anxious, asking Tom what was wrong.

Soon enough, he led to a closed door and he let go of my wrist. “Before I open this door, Y/N, I just want you to know that I’m deeply in love with you,” he was sincere, which scared me, “I know that we started on the wrong foot and we still might be on the wrong foot, but I’ve never met anyone who could get as close to me as you did. It’s only been weeks I know, but-“ “Tom please tell me what’s happened,” I cut him off, not being able to hear anymore.

He sighed and opened the door, letting me go first. Tentatively, I stepped in and took a look around the room. To my left, Cooper was in chains, a sock stuffed into his mouth. His face was unrecognizable and his clothes were tattered; he was practically dead. I covered my mouth with my hand and backpedaled into the wall, memories of that night plaguing my mind, and yet I didn’t want to leave. I couldn’t, something was compelling me to stay.

I looked at Tom, “What is this?” My voice started to waver. After all, Cooper tortured me. I was going to be afraid of him, even if I was protected by Tom. “An ultimatum,” Tom whispered, pulling a gun out of the waistband of his pants. He opened my palm and placed the gun in my hand and said, “I’m not a good person, Y/N, never was. I don’t want to hurt you anymore than you have been, so here’s the choice. You can end Rigsby’s suffering with a bullet to the head and live with the guilt, staying with me, or you can give the gun to me and live the rest of your life happily and we’ll never meet again.”

I looked at the gun in my hand, and then I looked at Tom. He was going to define our relationship by the murder of a man. Even worse, it was the man who had tortured me and killed his brother. I was surprised Cooper wasn’t dead already, having to face six days of Tom’s wrath, and by the looks of it, it was worse than hell.

Turning the gun over in my hand, I examined it. Could I do this? Could I kill another man? All so that I could be with someone who could grow tired of me in a matter of weeks? I ran a finger down the barrel, feeling the rough texture glide against my nail. I had never held a gun before, even though I lived in the most dangerous part of London, it was just something I never could do.

Tom stood stoically, analyzing my movements and body language, trying to pick out what I was doing, I could tell. He was just as nervous as I was, but he portrayed nonchalance well. “Well?” He asked. Taking one more look at Cooper, who watched me with tired eyes and Tom who watched me with anxious ones, I sighed and said, “You’re insane.”

Tom hung his head down, “I know.” He walked towards me and began to take the gun from my hand when I aimed at Cooper’s head and shot. I didn’t stop at one, I kept going, feeling the gun kick back each time a bullet left the magazine. By now, I was in a blind rage from that had happened. Each bullet began to signify a person: Ellen Rhie, Chester Harris, Harry Holland, Tom, and me.

Soon enough, I was pulling the trigger and hearing the click. I kept clicking before I fell to my knees and sat in silence, looking at the practically headless corpse of what was once my closest friend. Does friendship always end this way? In the end, one person makes the choice that pulls the trigger and you’re left in chains, without a heart to love or a mind to believe what had happened.

“You’re insane to think I’d ever leave you,” I met Tom’s eyes. He looked at me with compassion and adoration, something I longed to feel and I did. He held out a hand and helped me up, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me closer. His breath tickled my lips and I oh so badly wanted to close the gap between us. “Are you sure this is what you want?” He asked.

I pulled back and stared into his face. Flashes of memories seeped into my mind as I recalled the night we first met and how I “saved his life”. We were both even now, I guess. I remembered how scared I was to even be breathing the same as him and I remembered every single time he went batshit crazy. The man was crazy and he will never stop being crazy; he has an organization to run after all. But was I crazy? Was I mad to even let my feet fall to the floor as I worshipped his presence? Would it be deemed insanity if I admitted to loving him with each passing second? Or was I crazy to even consider leaving him, even though he was my life support?

After a long silence, I grinned and nodded, “It is.” Tom sighed and smiled too. He leaned in and we kissed, fireworks exploding in my heart. I pulled away and rested my forehead on his. “I love you too,” I breathed and he chuckled. “I figured after the seventh or eighth bullet,” he retorted and I slapped him on the arm.

We pulled away and he held out his arm. “My love,” he said and we both linked arms and walked out the door, ready to face the future we now shared.

TAG LIST:

@nobodyslord @financialinstability @spider-stud @wywholland @magical-fairy-princess-stuff

#fanfic #fanfiction #imagine #mob!haz #mob!au #mob!tom #spiderman #spiderman: far from home #spiderman: hoco #spiderman: homecoming #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland

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whoareurl · 6 years

Text

Blood Drive - YOI

hey all!! this is my giveaway fic for @mypoorfaves who gave me this really awesome prompt about viktor fainting after he has blood taken and tbh i loved writing this but i’m hiding it under the cut bc it’s vanilla so i might post it on ao3 too bc i’m vain and want attention lmao. anyway here it is!!!!!!

Usually, Viktor doesn’t mind being in front of the cameras. Usually, he’s camera-ready. But, then again, he usually isn’t about to have a needle stabbed into his arm and a pint of his blood forcibly taken from him. Despite what Yuuri says, he doesn’t think he’s exaggerating. He doesn’t like needles, never has. He remembers getting a meningitis vaccine when he was 21 only because Yakov had threatened something Viktor didn’t think proper to repeat in English.

At least Yuuri was with him. It made the whole thing a little more bearable. Despite feeling like his insides might actually consume themselves in fear, Viktor wasn’t about to pull out now. It was a charity event and, quite aside from not wanting to look bad, it was for a cause very dear to his husband’s heart.

Yuuri had told him with a soft, quiet voice about a boy he’d met during his junior years who had been saved by a blood transfusion to treat his anaemia. It was the only reason he’d been able to keep skating.

“I didn’t know him very well,” Yuuri had confessed. “He didn’t continue to seniors. But he helped me calm down once before the JGP and I want to do this for him.”

Viktor isn’t about to let Yuuri down.

So, here he is. Sitting in a blood donation clinic in Geneva with Yuuri on his left and Chris on his right. Yurio is on Yuuri’s other side and is pointedly not looking at either of them. Across the room, Phichit is giggling with Leo and Guang Hong and taking completely unsubtle pictures of Viktor and Yuuri. Viktor hears his phone buzz faintly in his jacket and deduces that they must be sending him photos of his terrified face with ridiculous snapchat filters.

“Doing okay?” Yuuri asks quietly in Russian.

Viktor looks over and attempts a smile. “Nervous,” is all he says, trying to keep his lips from moving too much. The entire reason they’re even speaking Russian is so nobody will be able to read their lips later.

Yuuri reaches out and offers his hand. With a more genuine smile this time, Viktor slides his hand into Yuuri’s and squeezes. It’s not comfortable but Viktor doesn’t plan to let go until this whole thing is over.

“I’ll be right here,” Yuuri assures him.

Phichit is making kissy faces across the room at them and Viktor feels a small semblance of calm come over him. If nothing else, his love for Yuuri is one thing he’s completely comfortable with in front of a camera.

The nurse who has been bustling around Yuuri finally has his equipment prepared and takes a seat next to him. Viktor has to look away as he inserts the needle and, in doing so, catches Chris’s eye. His friend offers him one of his less seductive smiles. Being in Geneva, Chris is garnering quite a lot of attention. He is, after all, their heart of their national skating pride. Chris, of course, takes this in his stride.

“It’s been too long since you were in Geneva, Vitya,” says Chris woefully in French. “I’ve missed having a challenging drinking partner.”

Viktor rolls his eyes fondly. “I’ve never found you to be much of a challenge,” he shoots back, making Chris laugh heartily.

“You wound me,” he says, putting his free hand (which isn’t connected to a needle) on his chest.

Viktor is grateful for Chris - their usual mildly flirtatious communication is helping take his mind off the inevitable violation which is to come.

(Yuuri might be right. He might be a tad dramatic.)

“It’s not as bad as you think,” Chris says softly in Russian before switching back to French without ever once changing his expression. “You should bring that gorgeous husband of yours round for dinner tonight.”

“Well, we were thinking of visiting Stephane since he is, of course, my favourite Swiss skater,” Viktor teases, adding his thanks in Russian.

Chris, deciding he is too hurt by Viktor’s comments to answer them directly, leans forward slightly to appeal to Yuuri in English. “Yuuri, darling, your husband is quite the dreadful heartbreaker.”

Yuuri, who Viktor notices has now finished being prodded and is sitting calmly squeezing a stress ball to help the blood flow, offers Chris an innocent smile. “Was I naive to assume that marriage would discourage your advances, Christophe?”

At the use of his full name, Chris fans himself with his free hand. “Goodness, what have I done to deserve such formality? You know how I feel about formality, Yuuri.”

Once upon a time, Yuuri might have been flustered into silence. Now, he’s endlessly familiar with Chris’s flirtations and simply rolls his eyes. “If you’re looking for a threesome, Chris, all you have to do is ask.”

Viktor nearly chokes on his own tongue and Chris practically dissolves into laughter.

“You picked a fiesty one, Vitya,” he says in French.

Viktor is about to respond when a nurse wheels her trolley over and offers him a smile.

“Hello, Monsieur Nikiforov. I am Elena. Let me see your arm,” she says in heavily accented English.

Viktor feels himself shaking as he extends his places his right arm on the armrest and takes a deep, slow breath.

“Do not worry,” says Elena kindly. “It will only pinch.”

“He speaks French, if you can stand the accent,” says Chris helpfully in French, offering Viktor a smirk. “He’s a Russian who learned from a Frenchman.”

Elena smiles, switching to French as she says, “I’m sure your French is lovely.”

“It’s one of my favourites to speak,” Viktor says, managing to keep his voice relatively steady and tries not to watch as she prepares her equipment.

“You speak Russian, French, and English fluently?” she asks conversationally.

Viktor swallows. “Yes. And I’m learning Japanese.”

She raises her eyebrows, looking impressed as she ties a band around Viktor’s upper arm. It hurts and Viktor tries to swallow his panic as she starts prodding gently at the inside of his elbow.

“You’re learning for your husband?” She asks, nodding over towards Yuuri. Viktor shoots Yuuri a smile. It’s clear his husband is only following roughly half of the conversation and Viktor feels bad for leaving him out but he also wants Elena to be able to communicate in a language in which she’s fluent.

“Hai,” Viktor says softly and Yuuri smiles fondly, rubbing his thumb over the back of Viktor’s hand. He doesn’t need to translate for Elena; his tone says it all.

“How long have you been married?” Elena asks, clearly trying to keep him distracted.

“Um,” he says, feeling the panic rise in his chest as she unwraps a fresh needle. He closes his eyes and squeezes Yuuri’s hand tighter. “Almost a year.”

“Are you planning anything for your anniversary?” She asks and Viktor feels a sharp pinch and it’s in.

He takes a deep breath. Okay. This could be worse. It’s horrible and he can feel it and the panic is settling almost restrictively in his chest but it’s okay.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri whispers in Russian. “Remember when you broke your ankle on that double axel in juniors? This can’t be worse than that.”

Despite the fear, Viktor looks over at Yuuri fondly. “You really were my biggest fan, weren’t you?”

Yuuri doesn’t flush. “Am,” he corrects. “Am your biggest fan.”

From behind Yuuri, Yurio sits forward and makes a vomiting noise before promptly slumping back against the chair again. Viktor’s laugh is strained but it’s genuine.

“Alright,” says Elena, apparently finished. “If you start to feel sick at any point, I want you to let me know. It happens all the time so don’t be embarrassed about it.” She turns to Yuuri and switches back to English. “How are you feeling, Mr Katsuki?”

Yuuri smiles. “Fine, thank you. And it’s still just Yuuri.”

Elena nods but doesn’t correct herself and gives Viktor a pointed look. “If you feel sick, tell me.”

And then she takes her trolley over to Leo.

Viktor keeps his eyes on Yuuri and tries not to think about it. Does he feel sick? Or is he just anxious? Well, now he’s anxious that he might be feeling sick. And it doesn’t help that the damn cameras are still staring him down. The clinic had required that they remain to one side of the room and out of the way and Viktor is endlessly thankful for small mercies.

“How do you think Makkachin would feel about another dog?” Yuuri asks and it takes Viktor completely by surprise.

“Not sure,” he answers somewhat breathlessly. “I’ve never asked her.”

Yuuri nods. Viktor fiddles with Yuuri’s wedding ring with his pinky.

“I think it’s a good idea though,” he adds after a moment. “Can’t have too many dogs, right?”

Viktor feels a slight twinge in his arm and gasps softly. He wants to cry. This is an entirely awful experience and he wants it to be over.

“I don’t like this,” he says in Russian, no longer trying to keep the distress out of his voice. It’s all he can do to keep himself looking calm for the cameras.

Yuuri doesn’t even blink. “Do you want to stop?” He asks and there’s no accusation or disappointment in his tone but Viktor reads those emotions into his voice anyway. He shakes his head.

“We’ve started now,” he says. “It’ll be over soon, right?”

Squeezing his hand again, Yuuri says gently, “It will. And I’ll stay right here. But remember you can stop whenever you want.”

Viktor nods.

“Are you feeling sick?” Yuuri asks, concerned.

“No,” Viktor mumbles, closing his eyes. He tries to hyperfocus on the feeling of Yuuri’s hand in his. It’s warm and solid and soft. If Viktor concentrates, he can feel every single point of connection, can trace the outline of Yuuri’s fingers as they fold round his own.

“You’re doing really well,” Yuuri says earnestly and Viktor feels the corners of his lips twitch into an involuntary smile. Yuuri is so good to him, he thinks.

In the end, it isn’t actually that bad. Yuuri says soft things in a mix of Russian and Japanese and Viktor hums and nods and plays with Yuuri’s slender fingers and tries to relax into his seat. For a moment, he feels a little...off. But it passes and Elena, who has just finished securing a sticky bandage to Yuuri’s inner elbow, returns to inspect his progress. She seems pleased.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” She says with a smile and Viktor gives her a slight shake of his head. She looks closely at him. “You look a little pale. Are you feeling okay?”

Viktor is thankful that Chris finished donating ages ago so he doesn’t have to endure snarky comments about his snow-climate complexion. “I’m alright,” he tells her. And he is.

Until he tries to stand up and the world tilts quite dramatically sideways. He reaches for Yuuri.

And then. Well, he isn’t sure what happens next. But then his head is settled comfortably in Yuuri’s lap and Yuuri’s delicate fingers are running gently through his hair which feels gross from the nervous sweats he’d experienced an hour ago. Viktor wants to tell him to wait until he’s had a shower but he also doesn’t want Yuuri to stop.

“It’s alright, Vitya,” Yuuri’s voice says warmly. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Viktor stares up at Yuuri who looks somewhat blurry. He wonders briefly if he’s supposed to be wearing glasses but then remembers that Yuuri is the one who wears them. Is this what Yuuri sees when he’s skating? How does he avoid the barriers?

“Can you sit up for me, love?” Yuuri asks and Viktor tries his best but he probably couldn’t have managed it without Yuuri’s strong, guiding arms. Have Yuuri’s biceps always been this...firm?

Viktor rests his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and sighs. His entire body feels tingly and he feels like he’s floating just outside of himself. Not to mention his stomach is tying itself in knots. His arms shake where they try to support him but Yuuri’s body is a rock, keeping him anchored.

Elena hands Yuuri a carton of apple juice and Viktor watches with rapt fascination while Yuuri expertly releases the attached straw from its plastic wrapping with one hand and pierces the foil on top of the carton, keeping his other arm wrapped firmly round his husband’s waist. Somewhat dazedly, Viktor wonders if this is why damsels are always in distress. Having Yuuri take charge of things so smoothly is just about the most attractive thing Viktor has ever seen and Viktor tells him so in Russian. Well, he tries to tell him. But it comes out mumbled and half in French and Yuuri just kisses his forehead indulgently.

“Small sips,” Yuuri says as he holds the juicebox so that the straw just touches Viktor’s lips.

The sweet taste makes Viktor feel a little more real. He can feel the ground solidifying beneath him as the chill floods through his chest and travels down into his stomach. After a moment, he lifts a shaky hand to take the juicebox from Yuuri but he doesn’t make any other moves to support himself independently. Yuuri doesn’t seem to mind. His now free hand comes to rest softly on Viktor’s thigh.

For a moment, everything is bliss. And then the realisation of what just happened comes crashing down on Viktor and he feels his face turn a brilliant shade of scarlet. He buries his face in Yuuri’s shoulder and groans.

“This is so embarrassing,” he says mournfully.

Yuuri shushes him kindly and Elena says, “You have no reason to be embarrassed. This happens a lot.”

Her words do give Viktor a little reassurance but he can’t help thinking that most people don’t faint in front of a full camera crew and end up with gifs of themselves collapsing on the internet forever. Knowing the speed of the online world, Viktor wouldn’t be surprised if those gifs were already circulating on tumblr. He groans again.

“Vitya,” Yuuri coaxes, nudging his shoulder slightly to get Viktor to show his face. “Finish your juice. There’s still half left.”

Reluctantly, Viktor takes another few sips of his juicebox and is somewhat frustrated that he enjoys the taste of it when he’s doing his best to feel embarrassed and miserable. He feels Yuuri’s lips against his hair and the soft, warm huffs of Yuuri’s breath ruffling the strands of his fringe and he thinks that maybe this isn’t the absolute worst thing in the world.

It’s going to take a while to repair his image, though. He takes a moment to mourn that before he finishes his juice forcefully so that it makes a pointed gurgling noise to prove to Yuuri that it’s finished.

True to their word, Elena and Yuuri help him unsteadily to his feet and he’s soon settled in a plastic chair with Yurio on one side and Chris on the other. Yuuri crouches down in front of him and smiles.

“Feeling a bit better?” He asks kindly.

Viktor doesn’t get a chance to answer before Yurio butts in. “Is it true you fainted? I mean, you actually fainted?”

It takes Viktor a moment to register Yurio’s strange accent but Yuuri seems to be on it far faster than he is because he says, “Shove off, Malfoy,” and Chris lets out a snort.

“For real, though,” Chris says. “Are you okay? Nothing damaged?”

Viktor sighs. “Only my pride.”

“You needed taking down a peg,” says Chris matter-of-factly and Viktor aims a lethargic punch at his leg.

Yuuri catches his hand as he brings it back and kisses it gently and Viktor thinks he can see every single star right there in his eyes. “I’m so proud of you,” he says earnestly.

And Viktor thinks that maybe it’s okay after all. Because Yuuri is proud of him. And that’s enough.

#acefic #acefic yoi

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