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retrievablememories · 3 years

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picture me | johnny (m)

title: picture me pairing: vampire!johnny x black!reader genre: fantasy, romance, smut, fluff, angst summary: you meet a vampire-slash-photographer whose self-identity is increasingly lost to him, and you try to help him find some purpose again. word count: 18.3k warnings: age gap (cuz you know, vampires...but everyone is legal), mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species, self-identity issues/self-deprecation, general angst, sheltered!reader, mentions of blood and drinking blood, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of lube, unprotected sex (do not try at home), creampie, johnny is packing in this fic ok! a/n: today (the 28th) is my birthday, so i’m posting this 100% self-indulgent fic that i’ve been working on between requests since september. it was very hard to get johnny’s characterization right for this fic and idk if i actually succeeded but i’m not revising this for the 1000th time lol. i love this fic with my whole heart tho.

i haven’t seen many vampire fics that really explore the whole “doesn’t show up in mirrors/photos” concept (shout em out if you know em) and...there’s probably a reason for that, this shit is hard af to write and there are some logic issues but whatever 🤪

(the beginning quote is from “criminal,” stan taemin!!)

The moment I fall for you is the end of my innocence

—

He sits in the same coffee shop everyday, like it’s a habit he just can’t break. But who are you to judge? You’re there, too. Watching him like a creep. Or maybe like an interested coffee shop patron, trying to be discreet and failing at it.

He wasn’t hard to notice. You’d never been to this coffee shop before, but your friend recommended it to you mostly for their in-house-made pastries; she claimed the coffee was good, too, but she wasn’t much of a caffeine person. You decided to give it a try when you had time between classes and a moment to breathe, not needing to talk to this advisor or that professor.

You saw him immediately when you walked past the shop window. He was sitting at a table near the front, staring down at his phone with a small cup of coffee sitting in front of him. Its miniscule size was almost comical in contrast to his...everything. He was tall—that much was obvious even with him sitting down—and imposing, wearing all black. His hair was equally pitch-black, his bangs hanging to one side and the rest shaved in an undercut. If you didn’t know much better, you’d think you’d stepped back into 2007 and landed dead in the middle of the emo craze.

He was interesting to look at. Not in a bad way, but in a way you don’t see very often. Deciding to walk in before you made yourself look totally weird staring at him through the window, you’d stepped into the coffee shop, the small bell dinging above your head. A barista greeted you at your entrance. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man, to your left, still looking at his phone.

You’d given your order and waited for it to be ready before taking it to a table on the other side of the shop. From that vantage point, you had a good view of the man. You tried to keep your eyes on your food and your phone, not wanting to spend the whole time looking at him, but it was a little hard not to.

When you took a bite of your pastry, you quickly discovered it was just as delicious as your friend promised—probably even more so. You made a noise of approval before you could catch yourself, and you glanced around the shop in embarrassment to see if anyone nearby noticed. Didn’t seem like it, at first. But then you glanced over to the man again only to find him looking at you below his eyelashes with a small, amused smile on his lips. He only kept his gaze on you for a second before returning to his phone.

What? You hadn’t thought you were that loud. How did he hear you from over there, and above the noise of the café? Even now, you remember how embarrassed you’d felt, ducking your head and looking away.

The man finished his coffee not long after that; he slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up. You glanced up only momentarily when he stood, but your eyes soon slid back to his form when you noticed something odd. On the wall behind him, there was a big oval mirror sitting pretty in its elaborate silver frame. He stood just a few feet in front of it, yet there was no reflection of him. The only thing you could see was the other side of the café reflected back, with another man sitting alone at a booth enjoying his own coffee. The tall man’s reflection was nowhere to be found.

That was when you figured he must be a vampire.

You’d never met one before. At least, you didn’t think you had until then.

Unbeknownst to you, vampires are notoriously able to blend in more easily than most other supernatural beings—until faced with situations like that one in the coffee shop. Ultimately, there’s no faking a reflection no matter how hard you try to remain inconspicuous.

The man had caught your eye again. Thinking back on it, you aren’t sure of what expression you had on your face or what it must’ve looked like to him. It must’ve been something akin to surprise, though; you weren’t quick enough to disguise your reaction at his lack of a reflection.

He gave you another smile, though it felt sadder than the previous one, and walked out of the store, the small bell on the door ringing at his departure. He disappeared down the street in a swirl of black fabric, almost like something out of a movie, and you watched him retreat until you could see him no more.

You scraped your index fingernail over the wood table your food was resting on, your mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts. Your interest was piqued. And yet there was no way for you to know if you’d see him again.

—

At least, that’s what you believed then. Luckily for you, your subsequent visits to the coffee shop have proven fruitful; the strange, tall vampire is there more often than not, always in the same spot in front of that same mirror. Sometimes he reads a book, other times he looks at his phone, and other times still, he stares out the window at the passersby.

He acknowledges you whenever he sees you, either with a nod or a smile. You’ve never spoken to each other, though you know what his voice sounds like from hearing him talk to the baristas. It’s a nice voice, rich and handsome like him, and you find yourself gradually wanting to hear it spoken in your direction. But you aren’t sure how to talk to him, or what you should say.

There’s a lot you want to know about him and his vampirism, but you don’t think it’s fair to bombard him with questions right after meeting him—if you could somehow work up the nerve for that first step.

When you were young, your parents made sure to keep you safely sheltered away from anyone who could potentially be a vampire or any other nonhuman being. This game kept up until you went to college, where they could no longer “shield” you. Because of their lifelong fear and disgust, your knowledge of nonhuman beings is scarce and mostly inaccurate.

The man’s skin isn’t deathly pale like you’ve heard others say vampires always are. It’s nicely tanned, in fact. Nor are his eyes red, or his canine teeth abnormally sharp. And obviously, he has no aversion to sunlight, otherwise he wouldn’t be out here during the day. The only visible marker of his inhuman nature is his lack of a reflection. Maybe he’s not a vampire at all? Maybe he’s another type of being entirely. That only makes you more curious.

It’s not rare to come across supernatural beings, but they only make themselves known if they want to, or if it’s imperative to their survival. Most of them would rather quietly assimilate amongst humans or stay safe and hidden within their own communities. Humans are still too judgmental towards those who are different from themselves for nonhumans to feel truly safe or welcomed—at least not on a global scale. Small pockets of communities forged with human allies are helpful and sometimes vital for survival, but not always enough.

These small tidbits of information cycle through your mind as September gradually bleeds into October. You continue watching the thoughtful man in the coffee shop and making up your own secret theories about his life. You haven’t told anyone from school about this, because you already know the reaction would be nothing short of awful. Your parents would only let you go to school at the one university in the city that explicitly didn’t allow supernatural beings; it goes without saying that your classmates don’t view them in a positive light.

Part of you feels like you might be breaking the unspoken rules just by being at this coffee shop all the time and allowing this man to take up space in your mind. But who will know what’s inside your thoughts except you?

One day, your friend decides to accompany you on your lunch break, finally stopping by the café she recommended to you. The man is already there, as usual, and he smiles slightly when you and your friend enter. She doesn’t catch this, too busy wondering what she’s going to get off the menu today.

“I haven’t been here in forever, I wonder if Sam still remembers me?” You know Sam to be one of the baristas there, having read it on their name tag before.

“I doubt there are very many people who’d forget you,” you answer.

When you both have your food, you take a booth farther away from where the man sits, though you can still see him easily from this distance. Your friend settles into the seat in front of you.

You try to keep things inconspicuous throughout your conversation, but you must glance over at him one too many times, because your friend eventually raises her eyebrows questioningly. She turns around in her seat, making it obvious that she’s looking, and you groan as you keep your eyes in the opposite direction towards the window.

“Who’s that guy you keep staring at?”

You cough. “No one.”

“He’s obviously someone. Someone interesting enough to hold your attention.”

“I don’t know the man,” you say curtly. You shuffle your napkin and spoon aimlessly, your nervousness rising. What if he has some kind of enhanced hearing and can hear what you’re saying right now? He definitely heard you make that noise that first day.

Your friend looks at the ceiling and blows air out of her mouth. “Whatever. I’ll find out who he is sooner or later.”

You take a sip of your drink and lower your voice to just above a whisper. Although you want to leave the subject alone, you’re curious about one thing. “You mean you’ve never seen him before? This café was your hangout spot before it was mine.”

She shrugs. “No, I think I would’ve remembered someone as...visually striking as him. Why are we whispering, anyway? It’s not like he can hear us above all this noise.”

You think to yourself, I’m not so sure about that, but you merely shake your head.

You spend a few more minutes talking before movement catches the corner of your eye. At this point, it’s practically a reflex for you to look in that direction. You try not to, but your friend has already caught you and turns her head to spy, too. The man has gotten up for whatever reason to say something to one of the baristas at the counter. Your gaze darts back to your cup after you’ve gotten your eyeful, but you’re nearly startled into dropping the cup at your friend’s gasp.

Oh. The mirror.

She grips the edge of the table. “He’s a vampire…?”

You don’t know what to say to that, and you feel oddly guilty for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “U-um, I don’t know…?” You can hardly finish your thought before your friend is scrambling to grab her purse. She hurriedly stands out of the seat, tugging your arm as she does.

“Come on. We shouldn’t stay here.”

“Are you serious—?” You feel embarrassed heat rip through your body at her display; some other café-goers are already looking at her curiously, probably wondering what the hell she’s doing. She tugs more incessantly, and you already know she’ll get louder if you don’t get up now and defuse the situation. Leaving your half-full cup behind, you grab your things and follow her out of the store, keeping your eyes firmly on her back as you pass by the man. You don’t know if he looked up, or if he could sense the reason for your sudden departure—you’ve never left the shop before him until now—and you don’t want to know.

Neither of you talk until you’re well down the street and around the corner. “That wasn’t necessary,” you huff, your hands still sweating from the spiked adrenaline at suddenly being rushed out.

“Yes it was! We all know bloodsuckers and all these other weirdos are dangerous...even if they think they’re being well-intentioned by living among humans. I hope you don’t go back there.”

“Whatever...you’re the one who told me to visit the café,” you mumble, unable to muster up the energy to say anything more. You both know very well she can’t tell you where to go, but you hope she doesn’t mention this to your other acquaintances on campus and make it into a bigger deal than it is.

When you part ways with your friend and get back to your dorm, you realize you’re missing your planner. The planner with all your upcoming assignment dates in it. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, knowing it must’ve happened in the chaos of her pulling you out of the shop. Maybe if you’re really lucky, it’ll still be there, picked up by an employee or simply left untouched. Knowing how many people go through that café in a day, you’re not optimistic.

For the first time since visiting the quaint little shop, you’re not anticipating returning and seeing the man again, afraid he’ll ignore you or look at you with distaste—like you’re just another unsympathetic human. And would he be wrong to think that? You’re only strangers to each other.

You try not to dwell on it too hard when you go to bed that night.

When lunch rolls around the next day, you hesitate a couple times on your way to the café, not wanting to show up. However, the desire to see what became of your planner pushes you forward. You don’t even have to stay; if it’s there, you’ll take it and leave. If it’s not—oh well. You can still leave. It’s not hard to buy another.

He’s there when you arrive, of course.

He nods at you when you step inside, though he doesn’t smile as he’s become accustomed to doing. You nod back, but you can’t ignore the renewed rush of embarrassment you feel. You linger at the entrance for a second longer, wondering if maybe you should say something. Apologize, even? But what if he really didn’t know what was going on yesterday? Then how odd would you look for bringing it up?

You decide to move on and go back to the booth to search for your belongings, but his voice stops you. This takes you by surprise.

“Did you come back for this?”

You turn to him to see him holding your planner in his hand. You stare, momentarily dumbfounded, and almost shake your head before realizing it is yours. Definitely the same sticker-covered, scribbled-all-over planner.

“Oh—y-yeah. Thank you.” He passes it to you, though you notice he’s very careful not to let your hands touch. You’re a little perplexed about why, but then the rumors about vampires having cold skin pop up in your mind. Maybe that’s actually true, too. “I usually don’t lose things so easily, but…” Your voice falters, and you don’t know how to finish that sentence without bringing up the other day’s events.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he replies, “It happens to all of us sometimes...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my camera.”

“You take pictures?” you ask, a tinge of curiosity in your voice.

He nods. “I take photos of anything that interests me. Which often ends up being everything I see. I work at an art museum, so I guess having an eye for photography comes in handy.” He hesitates for a second, then says, “I could show you some?” He waves his phone, indicating that the photos are there.

“Oh, sure.” The man gestures for you to sit down in the empty chair in front of him, and you do so. He swipes through his phone a few times until he settles on what he’s searching for, then puts the device on the table and slides it to you. You lean forward to look at it and see that it displays an album full of pictures, simply titled with the emoji “🌌.”

“It’s okay, you can pick it up.” He chuckles. You pick up the phone and swipe through the numerous pictures. Many of them are nighttime shots of the moon, trees, half-empty streets, darkened storefronts. Others depict nature scenes at sunset or the beginning of sunrise, with the sky colored in darker hues. No matter what the subject matter is, they all look to be professionally taken, even for an iPhone.

“Wow, these are nice. You said you work at a museum…are you a professional photographer, too?”

The man shrugs, and as you look at his slight grin, you realize you still don’t know his name. “Something like that, I guess.”

“You should be if you aren’t already,” you say, looking through more photos. “I’m sure you’d make a lot of money.” When you reach the end of the album, you go to hand the phone back to him but realize he’ll probably want to avoid contact again, so you slide it across the table. He takes it and slips it into his pocket.

“I don’t really care about the money,” he responds. “I just like it because…” He trails off, unsure how to convey his thoughts, wondering if he should even get that personal with a stranger. “It...helps me pass the time.” He’s not quite satisfied by that answer—it doesn’t feel like enough—but it’s all he can think of on the spot.

“Well, that’s nice too. It’s always good to have a hobby just for the sake of it...not for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

“Do you have one?” He takes a sip of his coffee. You don’t expect to be asked about your own interests, and your mind goes blank as you try to think. Why does this always happen when I’m asked these kinds of questions?

“Um, just different things here and there.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, amused.

“It’s not that, I just don’t have a ton of hobbies or anything. I’m kinda boring, so…” And wasn’t allowed to do much of anything until I left home.

“Being boring isn’t always a bad thing.”

You lean back in your seat, shrugging slightly. “Maybe if you see it that way. My friends don’t.”

“Would one of those happen to be the same one who dragged you out of here yesterday?” He speaks casually, putting his cheek in his hand. You slump further down in your seat, feeling exposed. Of course there was no escaping this topic. He notices your mood shift and shakes his head. “You don’t have to feel so bad about it. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry for all that mess,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes. “Really, I am.” You stand up from the seat, gripping your planner. “Thanks again for this. I don’t want to take up any more of your time today.” You’re about to turn to leave when he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know…you could talk with me whenever you feel like it.” That’s the last thing you expect him to say. His voice takes on a quality that’s...not what you’d call begging, but it’s clear he’d enjoy some company. Maybe he’s doing this for your benefit as well as his own, because it’s obvious how your eyes always stray to his little corner.

You nod, giving him an apprehensive smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.”

The rest of your day after that is uneventful, full of classes and unexciting lectures, but you keep thinking of one thing. Though he appears to enjoy his time in the coffee shop, how lonely must he really be? There’s never anyone else around him. His eyes when he’d spoken to you held a certain sadness.

And you still didn’t get his name.

You don’t see him for the next few days, mostly because you aren’t at the café. You’ve gotten busy with a new project and haven’t had as much time to return to the coffee shop, mostly spending your time in the library instead.

When you finally get a chance to buy lunch outside campus, he’s not there. This disappoints you more than you thought it would, and you wonder what his absence means. Did he just decide not to come today, or has he found another place to frequent? You kind of hope the second option isn’t the case, though you also don’t know why you’re even caring this much about where someone else goes on their own time.

You get a drink to-go this time, deciding you’ll just take it back to the library and continue your studies there. The entryway bell rings behind you as you wait for your order to be made, though you don’t pay it much attention; half of your mind is still occupied with what you need to do next for your project.

When you turn around to leave the shop with your drink, you’re surprised to see the man standing there, waiting to get his own coffee. “You’re late,” you blurt out. You immediately feel silly for saying it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He gives you a slight smile. “Yes, I am.” Then he spots your to-go cup. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh, well,” you glance at your drink, “are you staying?”

He nods as he steps up to the counter. “Yeah, I’m staying. My offer’s still open, by the way.”

Right. The offer to talk to him sometimes. You’re tempted to stay awhile and talk to him now, though you don’t even know what about. Your project? That’s boring. Him being a vampire? Too invasive. Your school? Also boring, and probably not the best idea considering which one you attend.

“I...think I’ll stay, then.”

You both sit at his usual table, with you grinning nervously.

“How are you? I noticed you hadn’t showed up in a while,” he asks, settling back in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, I’m just busy with school stuff. These teachers don’t give us a break.” You laugh a little, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He grins. “I never did go to college, but I’ve always heard others talk about how tiring it is. And expensive.”

“They’re right.” You roll your eyes at the thought of it. “But I guess it’ll all be worth it in the end. Maybe. If the economy isn’t in the toilet.” The sound of his laughter is nice, and you’re glad you could make him laugh. “Also, I’m sorry—I don’t know how this flew under the radar, but I don’t know your name.”

He shrugs. “Nothing to apologize for, really. It’s Johnny.”

You tell him your name, too. “Since I haven’t seen you lately...how are you doing?” You circle your hands around your to-go cup, feeling its warmth transfer to your palms as you await his answer.

“I think I can say I’m the same as always—which is fine. Life slows down a little when you have a lot of time on your hands.” Johnny’s lips quirk up at that, and you think he might be referring to his vampirism. Your eyes widen a little.

“What’s that like? Having so much free time. I wouldn’t know much about that right now, but…”

“Maybe not as pleasant as you think it’d be. But there’s good in it. Like coming and going when you want to. And you can take up whatever interests you want without worrying as much about busy schedules.” You already know he’s alluding to his photography. “I do like having a job, though…it gives me structure.”

“You’re probably right…I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I had a ton of free time…like, which hobbies to pick up first.” You consider how you initially thought about him being lonely and wonder if that’s one of the unpleasant parts he hinted to. “Speaking of hobbies...did you take any new pictures lately?”

Johnny nods. “Most of them were on my camera this time, but some are on my phone. You want to see?”

“Yes!”

Johnny lets you have his phone again to look through the newest pictures he’s taken. There are varying shots of car-lined streets and storefronts, some of the latter decorated with glowing jack-o-lanterns for the onset of October. A pigeon sits on a streetlamp during the daytime, holding its head up like royalty upon a throne. In another image, a stray cat and her kittens huddle in an alley, the babies grooming each other while the mother looks quizzically at the camera.

You recognize a few photos from the nearby park; he also had some pictures of it the last time you looked. “Do you go to this park often?”

“Yeah, it offers some great shots. It’s especially pretty if you go just before the sun sets...the light filters through the tree leaves and it looks kinda like a kaleidoscope.”

“Ah, I’ve never seen that before…” you say a little sadly. Your parents didn’t much like taking you to that park when you were younger because of how far it is from their house. And since living away from them, you’ve only been able to visit it during the early hours of the day—like now.

Johnny looks closely at you. “Would you ever want to?”

“If it’s as pretty as you say, I should.” You slide the phone back across the table to him, not catching what he’s trying to hint at as you keep talking. “Do you go anywhere else besides here and the park?” As soon as you say it, you realize this might sound a little rude and try to make a quick save. “I mean, do you have any other favorite places? I’m not trying to say you don’t have a life or anything!”

Johnny laughs at your slight panic at thinking you’ve offended him. “Nothing too out-there, I guess. The bookstore, the photography store, the theater. Pretty much all the same places others visit.”

“The movies are fun.” You trace your finger across the table’s surface, thinking of your own favorite spots. “Me and my friends like to go downtown. There are a lot of cute little shops down there…”

You and Johnny talk for a while longer, and you almost forget you have to get back to campus until you glance at the wall clock. “Oh no, I’m gonna be late.” Flustered, you jump out of your seat and crumple your empty cup. “Sorry to cut it short, Johnny, but I gotta go back now.”

He smiles good-naturedly and nods, his dark bangs sweeping his face. “I understand.” As he watches you gather your things and get ready to go, he speaks up again. “Actually, if you want to see the park at sunset sometime...I could show you? It’s up to you.”

You pause, suddenly curious at the thought of seeing him outside the café. In the back of your mind, you feel a little paranoid and afraid of your friend or maybe even your parents seeing you there with him, though the latter is extremely unlikely. It’s hard to shake that familiar fear of judgment and ostracism when it’s been ingrained in you since childhood. “That sounds good. If it’s not any trouble for you…?”

“Never too much trouble. I usually get off around 4 on Fridays, just before the sun sets at 5. Unless the weekend is better for you?”

You nod, holding your books tighter to your chest. “Friday will work for me! I’ll meet up with you then.”

Johnny smiles. “Great; I’ll see you then, kind stranger.”

Maybe he says it to be joking or quirky, to sound like one of those characters in a movie or drama, but it makes you smile. Nodding to him again, you step out of the café and rush towards the direction of your school. Johnny watches as you retreat, your roles reversed.

You meet up with Johnny at the park that Friday, just as you both agreed. You spot him sitting on a bench near the park entrance, waiting on your arrival.

Johnny’s wardrobe is still mostly dark, but it’s a little lighter than usual today. He’s changed things up with a white polo shirt underneath his black sweater. Seeing him dressed like this, you wonder what he’d be like as a student, or maybe even a university professor.

He stands up when you get closer, hearing the sound of your footsteps approaching and turning towards you. His camera sits safely around his neck, the lens catching in the light of the sun.

When you stop in front of him, he smiles at you warmly. You try to relax into the genuineness of that smile and ignore the still-lingering traces of anxiety about being out with him. “Hi, Johnny!”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You and Johnny walk around the park as he looks for something interesting to shoot. He snaps a few shots of the trees, fallen leaves, bushes, and other natural elements along the way, though it seems like he hasn’t quite captured what he wants yet.

“Are you looking for something specific?” you ask, peering at his camera as he holds it in his hands.

“There’s an aster bush around here,” he responds. “It hadn’t fully bloomed yet the last time I was here, but it should be open by now.”

It turns out he’s right as you two finally come up on the bush. Its blooms make bright purple smudges against the rest of the landscape, which is a monochrome red-and-orange palette from the leaves changing their hues. You watch as he comes up to the bush carefully and quietly, like it’s a small animal he’s afraid to scare away. Johnny is very attentive while taking pictures of it, always conscious of getting the correct lighting and securing the exact angles he wants to capture. “Compassionate” is not a word you’d usually associate with the act of taking photos, but that’s the only word you can currently think of to describe this display. He treats the flowers with a peculiar sense of respect, as if they’re a human subject.

After he’s gotten the images he wants, Johnny offers you his camera to take a few of your own. You’re anxious about holding his prized possession and are afraid you’ll find a way to mess something up, but he promises you it’s fine. You take a few shots of the sky, still with a few wisps of clouds left, and a nearby tree that’s almost stripped bare of leaves. You know the shots will probably end up blurry from your unsteady hands, but Johnny tells you you’ve done a good job anyway.

Something about getting his approval makes a pleasant warmth settle in your chest.

As you both walk down a long trail, you finally ask him, “Sorry if this is invasive, but I was wondering how old are you? Like...as a vampire.” Your voice becomes hesitant on the word vampire, even though you’re the only two in this part of the park.

He chuckles a bit. “I’m 85.” You try not to look surprised. “I’ve been turned for 60 years. Old, but probably a little younger than most vampires you’d think of.”

“Kinda,” you say quietly. “They’re always like 2,000 years old in movies.”

“The ancient vampires are purebloods. They keep to themselves and avoid mingling with turned vampires, let alone humans. Some people are even skeptical if they exist. Supposedly, they use humans as servants or blood banks.” He gives you an apologetic look after saying this, though you don’t really know why. You don’t get the feeling he’d do that to another being, but he is still mostly a stranger... “At least, that’s what my mentor told me.”

Your curiosity is roused at all this new knowledge. “You had a mentor?”

“An older woman. She was also a turned vampire.”

“Turned, huh…”

Johnny nods, toeing at a small pile of leaves on the ground. “She went away eventually, said people are meant to pass in and out of each other’s lives. I don’t think she ever had intentions to stay. But I enjoyed her company while she was there.” Johnny stops at a short bridge above a small manmade lake, and you both look down into the water.

You place your arms on the bridge railing so you can lean over more. You notice he doesn’t have a reflection in the water, and this startles you more than you expected. Before meeting this strange man, you’d never thought much before about why vampires don’t have mirror reflections, but it seems even more unnatural to see this phenomenon happen again in the lake.

You find yourself looking at the side of Johnny’s face, trying to read his expression as he peers into the water’s depths. He turns to you, and you flinch at being caught staring, but he only smiles slightly. You force yourself to form words and break the silence. “What—what did you do after she left?”

“Lived on my own. She taught me a lot of things to help me live independently as a vampire, so it wasn’t too difficult to get along without her...but emotionally? A different story.”

“You sound like you had a very close relationship with her.”

“Yes. Quite close…” Johnny’s tone suggests something deeper, more intimate than a regular friendship. You feel a bit astounded at the idea of him having an older, more worldly lover while being only a newly changed vampire. Your reaction makes you feel foolish, inexperienced. Still, you can’t help imagining a scenario of them living in a big, dark mansion somewhere in the mountains, rolling around in a bed with bloody red sheets—and maybe drinking from the occasional naïve, misled human hiker.

Strangely, too, you feel jealous at his freedom, his ability to go wherever and do whatever with whoever he wants without overbearing relatives always just a step away.

You continue staring at the ripples as they circle in and out of the water’s surface, the motions triggered by a small orange leaf falling into the lake. You’re unsure of what could be the right thing to say to his admission, so you blurt out whatever comes to mind next. “You said she taught you to live independently as a vampire. What does that mean? How do you get...you know. Blood?”

“There are ways,” Johnny says cryptically, which makes your own blood rush faster. He turns to you with a grin, like he finds your naivety endearing. “It’s nothing drastic, though. At least, not for me. I never drink directly.” It does make sense that there are other ways to drink human blood without taking it straight from their necks, though you can only speculate on which methods he prefers. “Drinking directly is lethal, and often not worth it.”

“So, it’s true that vampire bites can kill?” You watch as Johnny pushes himself off the railing, and you follow him as he continues down the trail.

“It’s not false. But it’s never really that simple.” Johnny’s answer is mysterious, and he doesn’t elaborate further. He turns to you. “Where did you hear that, anyway? Your university? The one that bans all nonhuman beings?”

“You know where I go to school?” You feel embarrassed, thinking he must assume you’re like the rest of the student body who hates nonhumans but still nurtures an odd obsession with them.

“I saw it on your notebook one day, the school insignia. I’m not a stalker, by the way.” You laugh only slightly, and Johnny seems crestfallen when he notices your apprehension. “I don’t care if you attend school there. Just because you do doesn’t mean you think the way they do.”

“You must think I’m some weird opportunist, then,” you mutter, heat finding its way to your face. “Asking you all these questions...I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think anything except that you’re a pleasant person to be around.”

You’re quiet for a moment, letting the compliment sink in. You think you should probably give him one of his own, but before you can, he says, “Look. The sun’s already setting.” Just like he told you before, the dying rays filter through the tree leaves and create impossibly intricate patterns on your surroundings. You hold your hand out and watch the latticework that the leaves create dance over your open palm.

You let Johnny take a picture of your hand with the tree shadows flitting over it, but you shy away from the camera’s lens when he points it higher to your face, a questioning look in his eyes. “Maybe some other day.”

You walk around for a while longer until the sky bleeds into a dark purple. “I guess I should be going soon. It’s getting late,” you say, though you’re also a bit sad over your evening with Johnny meeting its end.

“Do you want me to take you back to campus? You shouldn’t walk back alone. My car is just in the parking lot there.” He points to it where it sits in the distance.

You look at Johnny with a confused gaze. “But you can’t come on campus. They have...things to ward off vampires.” Like gates made of pure silver, displaying intimidating, elaborately designed crosses. You don’t know if any of it actually works, but it’s probably better not to find out.

Johnny doesn’t seem bothered by this information. “Yeah…I know. I can just drop you at the street across from the main gate.”

You hesitate a moment longer but eventually agree. He is right; you’d rather not walk alone at night, and getting a ride with him is better—and cheaper—than calling for a rideshare.

The ride to the college is fairly quiet, with the radio filling the silence. It’s not an awkward type of stillness, at least, which you’re grateful for.

As he said he would, Johnny parks on the side of the street that sits in front of the main gate, just outside the immediate vicinity of the campus. The metal crosses stare back at the both of you, glinting in the light of nearby streetlamps. You turn your face away from them, biting the inside of your cheek.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks again for the ride. I guess I’ll see you back at the shop next week, yeah?” Again, you get the urge to say something, anything, to remedy or cover up the foreboding source of discomfort sitting just in front of you, but there’s no one sentence you could say to wipe away decades of hatred.

Johnny nods and smiles, and still he shows no signs of being disturbed. He doesn’t cast another glance at the gates. “It’s no problem. See you then.”

You get out of his car and cross the street to get inside the gate; it’s early enough in the evening for it to still be open. Any later, and it’d be locked shut to even humans. You risk another wave at him before turning back around and heading for your dorm, which sits a few yards from the entrance. Johnny lets the car idle on the side of the street until you’ve walked into the dorm, and only then does he drive away.

It doesn’t take very long for you to warm up to Johnny inviting you to other places. The next time you and him go somewhere other than the coffee shop, you accompany him as he buys some film for his camera on one of his free days. You don’t know a ton about photography, so you’re more than happy to let him tell you all about how film works and why he buys certain kinds over others.

The place he frequents is a specialty photography shop that still carries older varieties of film—ones that fell out of favor once digital cameras became a thing. The store looks noticeably old, but not in an unkempt or decrepit way. You can tell it’s been around for a while, holding all kinds of history in its structure.

“There are so many different types.” You look over a shelf of film rolls in awe. “How can you tell them all apart?”

Johnny laughs. “It gets easier if you’ve been doing it for a while…or a few decades.” He picks one up from a row of them and holds it in front of you. “35mm is the most common type, which is what you’ll find the most of when you look through any film shop. That’s what I use.”

He sets that one down and walks past another display of film rolls, gesturing toward them. “There’s also 120 and 220 film formats here…those work for even older cameras, sorta like ones you’d see in 1930s movies. You can even turn a film camera into a digital camera.”

You nod to his words, looking over what seems like millions of film canisters—and occasionally glancing at the lines of his broad back as he walks ahead of you. “You should teach a photography class. I’d be more willing to listen to you than some old professor.”

Johnny snickers. “Huh, I don’t know. Not a professor, but I am old.”

You both continue walking through the store, with Johnny giving you the rundown on every item that catches your interest.

Like the coffee shop, there’s another mirror in this store. Many more, actually—there are whole rows of them on a series of shelves, all in varying sizes and shapes. They create a fragmented view of your form as you stand in front of them, though you don’t initially realize you’ve crossed into their glassy line of sight. You’re busier with looking at a roll of film Johnny’s handed you. When you notice your reflection shifting in your peripheral view, you look up.

Johnny’s only a few feet behind you, and you know this because you can hear him and feel his presence. Yet, it’s strange to see yourself as the only person in the aisle.

Eventually, he notices what’s got you preoccupied and comes to stand next to you. Though you see him clearly in front of your eyes, there’s no trace of him in the glass reflections.

Suddenly, you’re hit with the aching loneliness of it—how it must feel to never see yourself. You can see him with your own eyes, and so can everyone else who encounters him, but what must it be like to be virtually invisible outside of other peoples’ perceptions of you? You almost feel utterly alone even though you know he’s beside you.

Noticing your sudden melancholy, Johnny takes the film roll from your hand and tosses it up in the air, making it look like it’s moving on its own in the mirrors. He means to lighten the mood, if only to see the cloudiness disappear from your expression. It works to a degree, though you still feel downcast deep below.

“It’s not good to dwell on it.” Johnny presses the film roll back into your hand, still carefully avoiding skin contact. He has no problem meeting your eyes, though, and you shyly look away from his dark gaze after a few prolonged moments.

“You’re right,” you say softly, turning back to the aisle and away from the rows of mirrors.

—

You and Johnny head to the coffee shop after your trip to the photography store. Once you get your drinks and sit down in your usual spot, he speaks suddenly. “Something’s wrong.”

Your eyes dart around the shop, thinking he’s referring to one of the patrons around you. “What? What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out a bit panicked. He doesn’t want to laugh, but he does.

“No, I mean...something’s wrong with you. You seem far away.”

“Oh…” You wonder if you should even bring it up and potentially ruin the mood. But you have been curious for weeks now, and you don’t think you’ll get a trustworthy answer by asking anyone other than him. “I just...I was wondering why you don’t have a reflection. I know it’s a vampire thing, but I’ve never really known why...you don’t need to answer, though. Like you said, it’s not good to dwell on it.”

Johnny makes a motion like a half-nod once your question is revealed, his eyes darting to the window and back to the table. His fingers trace across the rim of his coffee cup, a thoughtful but stormy expression on his face, and you’re afraid you shouldn’t have reawakened this topic. “You know...being undead means being in two places at once.”

“Two places?”

“We are caught between the living world and the world of the dead. Something that’s not really supposed to exist, yet…” He’s quiet for a moment. “You can only imagine the kind of issues and side effects that can cause. One of them being no reflection.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you say. “Two planes of existence...what does it mean to be a part of the world of the dead?”

“Our blood runs slower. Ours is more like sludge compared to yours. The heart beats only a few times per minute. Don’t need to eat or sleep, either, though many vampires still do.” Johnny pauses. “How much do you really know about vampires?”

“I don’t know much about any of this...stuff.” You gesture vaguely, meaning all supernatural beings and not just vampires. “No one ever told me these things growing up, and it’s hard to tell truth from fiction at school. People will say anything, horrible things, and you just take it at face value, I guess. I never really thought to try to find the reality.” You sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world who doesn’t know anything.”

“Learning is good. You can always learn. I don’t think it’s too late for that.” Johnny’s voice is a little lighter. “Anyway, everyone’s knowledge is different. Sometimes it slips my mind that everyone doesn’t know what it’s like to live as a vampire, though the world never lets me forget for long.”

“Then…do you hang out with other vampires who do understand? Or…maybe humans who can sympathize?”

Johnny gives a humorless laugh. “Most humans are hesitant to interact with us, if not full-out terrified or disgusted. At the museum...it’s less pronounced because all the employees already know. They…tolerate it. But every time someone else realizes what I am and doesn’t take well to it?” He shakes his head, acts like he’ll say something else, and then abandons that line of thought. “And do you really think I’d want to spend my free time around other bloodsuckers?” He tries to play it off as a joke, but you’re more inclined to think he actually feels that way. You can only nod, feeling bad for him but also a little disturbed by his view of his own kind.

“I think you’re a kind person, and you being a vampire doesn’t affect that,” you say hesitantly. “I like talking to you. And even if you feel that way about other vampires, I…wish you wouldn’t feel that about yourself.”

Johnny remains quiet, but he nods. You wonder about the struggle occurring in his mind. The only outward hint of his uneasy state shows in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tense set of his mouth. With his right hand resting on the table, he rubs his fingers together absentmindedly, like he’s analyzing your words. You have a sudden and startling desire to hold his hand, to twine your fingers together and feel his skin on yours for the first time, but you don’t dare cross that boundary.

He finally replies with, “You’re much kinder to me, an old and bitter vampire, than you probably should be. But maybe that’s a good thing about you.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” you agree, your voice low. “Every living being needs companionship. Good companionship, anyway.”

The corners of Johnny’s lips shift in something reminiscent of a smile. He turns a rueful gaze once again to the window, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “Aren’t I lucky to have yours, then.”

On a day when you don’t have as many responsibilities to juggle, you visit Johnny at the art museum after his working hours are up. He’d already invited you to come to the museum any day you felt like so he could show you around.

When you get there, he’s waiting in the visitor’s lobby for you, framed by receding sunlight as the day starts fading into night. He looks the same as he always does when you see him in the café on his lunch breaks, but within the context of the museum, he suddenly seems more…alive? Vibrant? He could’ve served as a muse for one of the many statuesque, perfectly proportional sculptures in the museum, and you’d never know anything different.

Your heartbeat increases at the sight of him, just enough to be outside the normal range.

“Hi, Johnny. I hope your day went well?”

“It was fine, nothing too crazy. But it’s better now.” And he smiles at you, sincere enough to make your heart ache.

“Oh—that’s great.” That’s it? You scold yourself internally, but you aren’t quick enough to think up a witty reply to his comment before the topic shifts.

“Is there anything in particular you wanna see first?” Johnny asks, leading you further into the museum.

“I guess I hadn’t thought too deeply about that…do you have a favorite exhibit? I want to see what you like.”

Johnny smiles faintly. “Let’s see, then.”

The dark-haired man takes you to a section of the museum filled with oil paintings, all by one singular artist. At first, all you see is varying shades of black and gray and red, with some white splashed in between. When you begin looking at the paintings more closely, it’s easier to see that each one depicts a different scene of chaos. Maybe a sort of organized chaos, but disarray all the same.

There is one picture that holds a clearer subject than the rest. One of the oil paintings is of a vampire—obvious by the fangs—with bloodied lips and anguished eyes. You pause when you catch sight of it, your steps stilled by the sheer frenzy in the other being’s painted eyes. Their hands reach out for the viewer as if begging for an escape that can only be provided by whoever’s observing.

“This one was painted by a fellow vampire, you know. The same one who did all the rest of the paintings in this gallery,” Johnny explains. He points at the placard next to the painting that displays the artist’s name and a short description of the piece. The word fellow comes off his tongue wrapped in cynicism. “And it was one of the ones I personally chose for this exhibit.”

You glance at him, a tinge of surprise blooming in your chest. “Really?”

He nods. “Who better to depict the ills of vampirism than a vampire themselves? I thought it was a…fascinating change of pace from all the humans who try and fail to do so, ironic as that is.”

If you look at the painting for long enough, you think you can recognize sadness in the corners of the vampire’s eyes—pure, unadulterated sadness. Different from anguish or panic. A similar mask of sadness you’ve seen on the man next to you.

You say nothing for a while. You simply feel the painful throb of your heart in your chest and listen to the small sounds around you. Even now, there are still other people exploring the museum and walking through this very exhibit, but you can’t hear or see any of them. Johnny notices the disconcerted look on your face, and his forehead creases. “But I’m sure you want to see something less…morbid than this, right? Come on.”

“Uh, I-I don’t mind,” you insist, even though you feel like you’ve just awoken from a painful trance by the sound of his voice. But he’s already gesturing for you to follow him elsewhere.

The next set of paintings you end up in front of are a series of sunflower studies. One frame depicts the long green stems; another provides an up-close view of their lined petals. One zooms in close on the flower’s brown center, only small glimpses of yellow left at the edges of the frame.

“This is definitely very different.” You look at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. “But it fits you. I see why you like it.” You remember him back in the park, taking careful pictures of the aster bush and of your hands…and then offering to take one of you. You don’t know why that last one makes your stomach jump.

“I thought you might like it.” Johnny’s eyes linger on your face as he observes your reaction to the paintings. He’s seen these flowers probably a hundred times by now in this permanent exhibit, but the wonder in your expression is new to him.

—

You both walk through a few more exhibitions after that, all with different subjects and mediums—some consist of sculptures, others are clay vases and figures. There’s still a lot to see in the museum, but you’re starting to get hungry, and you know Johnny has already heard your stomach growling.

After the 2nd time it happens and you think you might melt from embarrassment, he grins at you and makes a suggestion. “Let’s go to my office. I’ll get my things and we can eat. The restaurant here is pretty good—or at least that’s what everyone else says…”

When you get to his office, you feel almost like you’ve stepped into a room from years past. Your gaze drifts across his desk immediately; it’s not sleek and modern like you’d expect, considering the rest of the museum’s aesthetic, but wooden and heavy and vintage-looking. It’s olden quality resembles everything else in his personal space. Even his desk chair, a big and plush thing, feels vintage with its soft leather and rustic design.

This feeling is far from a bad thing, though. You enjoy the aged look of the bookcases, the picture frames, the chairs, the small decorations here and there—everything about this room.

Johnny notices how you look around, studying everything in sight, and smiles. “It’s not the most modern, but I like it.”

“It’s perfect. Like a world of its own.”

“A woman of taste, I see.” Johnny puts a hand over his heart, giving an expression like he’s truly touched, and you can only grin sheepishly. When he has his belongings, he leads you out and locks the door behind him.

“Let’s see what they have on the menu today, then.”

—

You get dinner at the museum’s restaurant, just as Johnny recommended, and he even decides to eat too. Maybe he does it so you won’t look odd being the only one eating, or because he really just wants to; he doesn’t let on. Either way, sitting across from him like this in a fancy restaurant with both of you having a nice meal feels almost like a date. You let that thought amble around for a few minutes longer before tucking it back into one of your mind’s many small niches.

“I’ll probably be digesting this for the next few weeks,” he says jokingly, pulling a mock-disappointed face at his plate.

“That sounds like the worst constipation in history.” He snorts at your comment, his eyes creasing as he laughs. You notice he has a dimple when he smiles, and your grin mirrors his. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh quite so genuinely before, but now that you’ve experienced it, you want to hear it again and again.

Anything is preferable to the perpetual gloom, always slinking around the corner.

—

When Johnny gets back home after dropping you off at the university, he undresses himself and showers and pulls on his bedclothes, which are nothing more than his underwear and a pair of sweatpants. His upper canines ache in his gums the entire time he goes through these motions, like two pulses of red-hot heat positioned on either side of his mouth.

He takes a blood bag from the fridge and drinks it in bed, leaning his arms against his knees. A sudden remembrance manifests itself in his mind; he hears the hazy echo of his mother’s decades-past voice in his head, reprimanding him for eating in bed. A sharp pain grips his chest, and he tries to send it back to the depths where it belongs.

When the blood hits his stomach, the pain is eclipsed by the bloodlust, which is no better. His fangs drop immediately, spiking into his lower lip. Johnny closes his eyes and, very gingerly, allows himself to draw a picture of you in his mind, of your blood in his mouth and your heartbeat roaring in his ears. The way your blood would flow out so delicately, crashing into his tastebuds like the high tide. He is usually better than this at curtailing his bloodlust, not even letting it reach the point of his canines hurting—he can’t remember the last time that’s happened—but being around you sets him on edge. Awakens him in some strange, raw way.

That only makes him more wary. And more guilty about imagining himself drinking your blood. He shouldn’t even be around you if he’s losing his grip on his hard-won control. But although it makes him feel ashamed, it also causes his heart to rush.

He drains the blood bag to the last possible drop. To his relief, it calms him significantly, though the thoughts of you don’t leave. More innocent ones now, of your outing earlier in the evening. Deep beneath, they are tinged with his ever-present guilt at his vampiric nature.

Johnny doesn’t need the sleep, but he drifts off anyway, if only to quiet the conflict sending daggers into his mind.

You’ve known Johnny for a few weeks now, not counting the time you spent silently staring at him in the café, but you find yourself intertwining yourself further into his life. You end up visiting his apartment sooner than you anticipated. You didn’t think of anything as ridiculous as him living in a coffin or sleeping in the rafters like a bat, but you also had a hard time imagining what his place might look like.

You come over on a weekend when you have more time to simply hang out and not worry so much about anything else.

Like usual, he waits in that spot on the side of the street for you to come out. In the daytime, you’re more apprehensive about him being here and someone potentially seeing him and trying to cause trouble for him, but there’s a part of you that likes the rebellious aspect of it. And if he truly doesn’t mind coming near the campus to pick you up, you don’t have much issue with him doing it.

Johnny’s apartment is clean—and a little sparser than you’d expected. Maybe he’s a fan of minimalism. One side of the wall is taken up by a wide bookcase, which features a bunch of different knickknacks, books, and a collection of larger hardcovers that look like photo albums. On the other walls are a few framed pictures of different scenes, and you assume they’re ones he must’ve taken.

“This is a nice place,” you say as he takes your jacket for you and puts it up. “It must cost quite a bit, too…” You sit down on the couch, stroking the soft material of it.

Johnny shrugs. “Thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle...being nearly a century old gives you plenty of time to save money.” He appears charmingly self-satisfied when he’s able to make you laugh. “Do you want anything?”

“Water is fine…thank you.” Johnny nods and goes off to the kitchen.

Despite trying to keep your eyes on the wall photos, your gaze follows him as he leaves. You discreetly watch him move around his kitchen. With his dark clothes, he’s like a splash of black paint against the pale tile and stainless steel.

There are blood packs in Johnny’s fridge. Lots of them. You know because you saw them from your vantage point on the couch when he opened the fridge door. They look like the blood bags you’d see in a hospital, which makes you wonder how he even gets access to those. Another mystery you struggle to wrap your head around.

He comes back to the living room with your water, and you take it gratefully, though you also feel a little awkward. You think maybe the blood bags are something you shouldn’t have seen, although you know he probably would’ve made more effort to hide them or put them away if that were the case.

“You have a good supply of blood, a nice apartment, and a great job. Does every vampire get these kinds of perks?” Admittedly, it sounded better in your head. Your attempt to stave off the awkward feeling—which was really only coming from your end—only makes it more intense. Johnny laughs dryly in response. You can’t tell if he actually finds it amusing or is just trying to humor you, which makes you feel incredibly silly.

“All of it’s government-issued if you promise never to bite any humans.” Johnny gives a wry smile. “But it’s a mistake to think vampires live glamorous lives, filling up on blood and having no cares in the world.”

“N-no, I get it,” you stutter. “Bad joke.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you or be mean. It’s just the way things are.” Your roles are suddenly reversed, and now he seems to feel some sort of sympathy for you, like you’re just an ignorant little human who doesn’t know any better. The last part of that is more your insecurities speaking out than anything else, but you try to ignore that and take him for his word.

Johnny gets up from the couch to go over to the bookcase as you sip your water. After looking through the photo albums intently, he takes one off the shelf and hands it to you. You set your water down and hold the album carefully as you open the front cover. The cover itself has a neat little label that reads Telluride 1976 - 1980, so you can already expect what you’ll find in it. There are numerous photos of trees, bushes, snowy mountain ranges, lakes, brilliantly vibrant flowers, and woodland creatures. You stop at a picture of a deer looking straight ahead, its black eyes wide and curious as it examines the lens.

“I lived in the mountains back then, a little after my mentor had left. I spent some time trying to reconnect with nature...and all that other hippie shit people used to do back in that era.”

You chuckle. “Did you wear the same kinds of clothes, too? Bell bottoms and tie-dye T-shirts and all?”

Johnny laughs and shrugs. “Maybe…but that’s only for me to know.”

You grin and look at the photos again. “Well…did your plan work, at least?”

Johnny gives a wistful smile. “In some ways, I think it did.”

You continue looking through the rest of the album, which you could probably do for hours if you had the time—just sit and trace every possible line, curve, and ray of light. Johnny sits beside you as you do, occasionally explaining some pictures and their backstories.

“Lately, I’ve been wanting something else to take pictures of...someone else, maybe.”

“What, like a subject?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’d be nice...I haven’t taken pictures of another person in a while.”

You nod quietly as you flip through the pages—another possible hint flying right over your head. Then a thought comes to you—one that makes your skin warm. “Have you ever taken pictures of anyone you were...involved with?” You don’t say it directly, but you hope he can get the gist of what you’re asking.

Johnny nods as if he doesn’t want to admit to it, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “A few different people…but I always gave them the pictures after we, you know, stopped seeing each other...so there’s none left here.”

“I see…” For a few moments, your thoughts circle around that concept. What was it like to bare yourself in front of someone else like that, immortalized on film? What might it be like to allow Johnny to see you like that, to take pictures of you in your most vulnerable form? The idea doesn’t make you as downright anxious as you expected it to, though you can’t completely shake the lingering embarrassment about it.

After you finish looking through the entirety of his Telluride adventures, Johnny shows you some recent pictures he’s developed, and you’re giddy to see your own blurry creations among them. Now that you’re holding them physically in your hands, you can agree that they look nice, each with its own little personality.

“I thought about putting them in a new photo album,” he says, “but you can keep them, if you prefer.”

You hold them to your chest. “Yes, I’d like to keep them. Thank you.” You smile. “I’m sure I’ll leave you with plenty other photos to put in your album, anyway.”

—

The sun is close to setting again. You aren’t ready to leave yet, though, and Johnny is content to let you stay longer. He pulls out another album for you to look at, this one dated with 1960 - 1964. Unlike the others, there’s no title to describe what’s in it except for that year range.

“This is a picture of me someone took before I was turned,” Johnny murmurs, sitting back down beside you. He turns the album to you, and in the middle of the first page is a sepia-toned photo of him sitting on a bed—or maybe a couch?—wearing a suit. White, handwritten lettering on the bottom right of the photograph reads August 4, 1960.

“Oh wow...” You touch the photo gently over its protective lining. “You look exactly the same. Of course.”

“It’s the only photo I have left of myself,” he sighs, leaning back on the sofa. “If it weren’t for that...I’d feel almost like I didn’t exist at all.”

“Do you remember this day?” you ask.

“…Vaguely.” His answer doesn’t feel like the whole truth, and the way his eyes dart anxiously as he says it confirms your suspicions. Then he sighs again, heavier this time, and he seems to be exhaling all 60 years of his burden along with it. “I was...going to be married. It was for our wedding shoot.”

You’re surprised for a reason you’re unsure of, never even imagining that Johnny could’ve been married at one point in time. Could’ve had an entire life and a family, if it hadn’t been for...

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You know you never would’ve met him if things hadn’t happened this way, and that knowledge tugs at your heart in a way that makes you feel intensely selfish.

Johnny shakes his head and avoids your eyes. “It was long ago.” He wets his lips and his jaw clenches like maybe he wants to say something else, but he remains silent for a while.

You continue exploring the photo album in silence. With its thin size, there aren’t as many pictures in it as the others—much less, in fact, but each one is still enough to keep your interest. Your mind keeps drifting back to the one of Johnny.

You hand the album back to him when you’re done. He takes it from you, but in a gesture you don’t foresee, he allows your hands to touch for the first time. You make a tiny flinch at the unexpected coolness—not ice-cold, but enough to be noticeable—but you don’t draw away from him. You let his fingers slide across yours as the photo album leaves your hands, and it sends electricity racing up and down your spine.

“S-sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing for flinching or for making contact at all, though there is no reason to because he initiated it.

“Doesn’t it ever disturb you at all that I’m not human?” Johnny asks softly, still holding the album.

“What?”

“You’ve taken all this so easily...much more easily than many others. You aren’t even disgusted at my cold hands.” A ghost of a grin comes over his face.

“If I were disgusted, I wouldn’t even be here,” you say, trying to lighten the tension. It’s not the kind of tension that arises from anger, offense, or upset, but something else that you are lost on comprehending in this moment. “Some of it’s unfamiliar, obviously, but I’m not disgusted.”

He glances down at the album in his hands, as if contemplating something. Maybe thinking about the only living photo of himself beneath the cover. Or maybe he’s thinking back to how he was turned in the first place and subsequently lost the life he was about to have. He still hasn’t told you anything about how he became a vampire, and though you’d like to know, it’s obviously a sore spot for him.

Eventually, he nods, willing himself to smile at you. “I’m glad.”

—

Night has fallen by the time you’re done exploring the decades of his life, though there is still much you haven’t seen and don’t yet know. You let him drive you back to the school as you stare out at the passing cars, wondering how many more of these people sitting in their vehicles are nonhuman and you’d never know it.

You hesitate after he pulls up across from the main gate.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Uh, nothing really, it’s just—I still don’t have your number or anything.” And I want to talk to you more often. I want to hear your voice more often. You don’t want to say anything overly dramatic or cheesy, so you just keep those last thoughts to yourself.

Thinking it had been something serious, he smirks at your concern. “Oh, I see. I’ll give it to you now, then.”

Once your numbers are safely in each other’s phones, you finally bid each other goodnight.

Though you try to steer your thoughts towards other things, you keep veering back to Johnny. His apartment. His fridge full of blood bags. His photo albums full of years of history. Even when you get into bed that night, you can’t keep him off your mind.

You wake up gasping and sweating when you dream of him with his fangs in your neck, your own blood running down your neck and chest. You glance over at your roommate to make sure you haven’t woken her and rest your head on your knees, trying to catch your breath and settle your racing heart. Your skin still prickles with how you could practically feel his heated breaths on your neck, ice-cold hands gripping your shoulders.

The worst part of it is that you can’t quite say you completely disliked it.

“It doesn’t make much sense to have a Halloween party and dress up as the very beings that you hate, but whatever…” you mumble, looking through a rack of costumes with a certain impassivity. You’re not very enthusiastic about going to this Halloween party, but your friend refuses to go alone. You haven’t been spending as much time with her anymore—partly because of Johnny and partly because you feel even more out of place around her than normal—and with all her begging and pleading, she refuses to let you opt out of this one.

“It’s about having fun, no one really cares Y/N. They’re freaks, aren’t they? That’s why people dress up as them, they’re practically meant for this.”

You become even more apprehensive about the party after hearing that, if that’s even possible. You smooth your hand over the fabric of a witch’s robe and sigh again, shaking your head. It doesn’t feel quite right to keep spending time in her presence—or anyone else who goes to your school—but you feel trapped on all sides, left without much of a choice. You would never hear the end of it if you tried to switch universities…or even drop out.

Your mind strays back to Johnny as always, with his melancholy aura and weird jokes and pretty pictures and monochrome clothes. The smell of his cologne, the lingering scent of roasted coffee beans, and his toothy smile, when he does show it to you. Something in you makes you want to drop everything you’re doing right now and go to him. It might even be nice to settle in his arms, feel them strong and solid around you—though he’d probably need just as much comforting as you.

“Dress up as this!” Your friend breaks the reverie as she prances over to you with a pair of fake fangs, the tips of them painted in acrylic blood. She holds them up to your mouth, and you struggle to manage a smile, if only to sate her enthusiasm. “It actually reminds me of…that vampire at the café. Say, have you seen him since then?”

You shake your head, moving away to sift through another rack of outfits as you try to maintain a detached expression. “Nope, not a glimpse. Haven’t even thought about him.”

When your friend doesn’t suspect anything, you let your expression drop just a tad, breathing out quietly.

The night of the party, the full moon is heavy and bold against the black blanket of the sky, which feels horribly cliché. You wonder if there are any werewolves out tonight, and what they might be doing right now.

“We’re going to have a good time tonight,” your friend insists as you both walk up the front steps of the host’s house. It’s someone you only vaguely know, a friend of a friend of a friend, but clearly a person who has an abundance of money judging by this expansive home. You don’t know why she feels the need to convince you, but maybe it’s because you haven’t seemed very enthusiastic so far. You only give a thumbs up to her words, which feels like an unconvincing gesture. Luckily for you, it works.

After a few hours, the party is still going strong but your head is starting to hurt from the music, and you’re growing weary of all the men crowding in too close, looking at you in your angel costume like you’re something to be devoured. You’ve rolled your eyes at way too many of them and their haphazardly put-together costumes, dressed up as vampires with terrible fake fangs or werewolves with manes of matted up fur.

Your friend keeps flitting around the party, talking to whoever she recognizes from classes or campus organizations, and you’ve given up on trying to follow her around any longer. Every time you turn around, she’s somewhere else. Noticing that you’re currently solo, a guy from one of your history classes comes up to you and begins what he thinks is an interesting conversation on how angels actually look more like Eldritch abominations than the cherubic humans depicted in paintings—so your costume is “technically inaccurate” —and your eyes glaze over as you pretend to listen to him.

You eventually manage to get away from him and get to an undisturbed corner, wedged next to two girls drinking cider and critically rating all the guys’ costumes. You pull your phone out and think about calling for a ride back to campus, but your thumb hovers over the message icon. You press it without thinking too much about it, and Johnny’s name appears as one of your most recent conversations. Though you feel somewhat nervous, you will yourself to open the box and begin typing.

To: Hi Johnny. I hope I’m not bothering you, but can I come over? 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿 I’m over this party

You put your phone back in your purse, trying not to get your hopes up for a quick response. You know there’s a good chance he’d still be awake at this time of night since he doesn’t need to sleep, but he has his own life and is probably off doing...vampire-y things. Whatever those things could be.

However, your hopes are met when your phone pings only a couple minutes later.

From: Of course. You’re not scared about spending your Halloween with a vampire? 😏

You smile at that.

To: I think I’ll be fine…as long as you don’t bite me.

From: 🦷🩸

—

You get to Johnny’s studio apartment not too long after, and you hang around outside his door for a few moments before knocking, suddenly feeling bashful about your costume. Maybe you should’ve changed before coming over here; what if he thinks it’s childish? Or maybe too revealing? Does he even care about that kind of stuff? Doesn’t matter now, though. You’re here, and there’s no way you’re turning back around.

He answers a few seconds after you knock, wearing a sweater and black pants. You notice his sweater is a cream color and not the usual black. He looks a little surprised to see your costume, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Wow, you look pretty. Nice of you to visit me after falling straight from Heaven.” You cringe at his cheesy line, though you also cannot deny that you secretly enjoy every bit of it.

“Thanks, Johnny...” you say timidly, stepping into his home as he lets you in. “Nice work with changing up the color scheme.”

He’s confused for a moment before realizing you’re talking about his clothes. “Oh yeah, that...um, haha. Thanks.”

Unbeknownst to you, the back of his mind is buzzing with a form of excitement he hasn’t felt in a while. Not the clawing, frantic spikes of bloodlust, but a more physical kind of desire. It’s pleasurable, but he also feels guilty about pining over how sweet and innocent you look in your all-white outfit, stockings hugging your legs perfectly and your dress just short enough to tempt the imagination. Really, you’ve painted a picture of perfect purity, and the only thing he can think about is ruining you. Putting his hands on you and peeling your dress off to reveal the soft skin underneath.

He casts those thoughts aside as you sit prettily on his couch, legs crossed at the ankles—though it’s hard to do so. “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? There isn’t a whole lot of food here, but I can order something…”

“Do you ever make your own coffee?” The question seems a bit random at first, and you try to explain. “You know, since you always get it from the café.”

Johnny smiles. “Do you want coffee? I can make it.”

You nod. “That would be nice…whatever you have.”

“I pretty much have your usual order memorized by now, so I should be good on making it.” Johnny walks to the kitchen. “You can look through the albums while you’re in there. The ones you haven’t seen yet.”

“Oh, thanks.” You feel a little nervous to be looking through the shelf of his treasured photo albums by yourself, but you’re also glad he trusts you enough to let you do it. It makes you feel important. Maybe even important to him, as silly as that might sound.

It isn’t long before the scent of coffee wafts out into the living room. Johnny returns soon with two cups of it, and just as he promised, yours is made just the way you like it.

“Thank you.” You set the album back on the shelf and take the cup from Johnny. For a while, both of you talk of nothing important—just filling the space with the details of your days.

“So how was the party?” Johnny finally asks, and he raises his eyebrows as he scans your outfit again. You grin halfheartedly.

“It was…alright. Kinda weird. I think it’d be more fun if I went to a regular university, but you know…”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t blame you for bailing out.”

“Yeah…I’ve been to college parties before, but the Halloween theme was a bit…”

“Strange for an institution that bans all supernatural beings?” Johnny finishes your sentence. He doesn’t look offended or irritated by it—only slightly amused.

You shrug, biting your lip. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, look on the bright side. I wouldn’t have gotten to see you in your natural form otherwise.”

This one almost goes over your head, too, but you catch it just in time. Johnny’s compliments make you feel warm all over, like you’re sitting under the sun. You grin and look down into your cup of coffee, unused to receiving such bold praise and unsure how to respond to it. Something pops into your mind, though, and you think it might be a good idea to run with it.

“You could...take a picture of me, you know. If you want to...since I’m all dressed up now anyway.” You meet his eyes only for a second and then look away, twisting the mug in your hands.

Johnny sits up a little straighter at your words, trying to catch your eyes, though you don’t hold his gaze for long. “You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. Go ahead! Before I change my mind.” You laugh nervously and carefully set your half-empty mug on the table.

Johnny’s camera is never too far away from him, so he grabs it and plays with the settings for a bit before looking back to you, a small smile on his face. “I’m gonna start, okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft. This, yet again, reminds you of him and the aster bush. He acts as if you might run away at the first shutter click, which makes you feel babied, but you don’t totally hate it.

The first few photos are a little awkward—at least to you. You aren’t sure how to pose, or if you should try to look more casual, though Johnny assures you you’re doing well. He gives you directives throughout, telling you to look in his direction or angle your face a certain way, and you follow his instructions to the best of your ability.

At one point, one of your dress straps slips down. When you go to fix it, Johnny says, “Wait. Could you keep it like that?”

You look at him, your body heating from the suggestion.

“Is that okay with you?”

“…Yes.” Your throat is dry, and your body reacts in a way you don’t expect—little nervous thrills in your hands and feet, though you try to internally explain it away as the coffee’s effects. Johnny takes a few more photos like this, and then he steps closer to gently touch your chin, guiding your face to the angle he’s looking for.

“So good for me.” It slips past his lips in a reverential murmur before he can really consider what he’s saying, and you both freeze. Your heart rate increases, and you wonder if he can hear how hard the red organ is beating in your chest. Probably.

You want to hear him say it again.

Johnny laughs awkwardly, his hand coming back to his side almost a little too quickly to be natural. “Um, I’m really sorry. That was a bit...”

“It…it’s fine.” You avoid his eyes. Johnny takes a few more photos, but the set of his mouth is a little tight, as if he’s stressed about something. Or regretting what he let slip, maybe. You want to tell him you really don’t feel bad about it, but you aren’t sure how to do that without making things more awkward…or revealing your true desires.

When Johnny has taken enough pictures of you to be satisfied with, he sits next to you on the couch, setting his camera on the coffee table and looking suddenly timid.

“I can’t wait to see them,” you say, attempting to break the tension that never really cleared the room after his earlier comment. He blinks for a moment like he doesn’t know what you mean, and then realizes—obviously, he’ll be developing the photos.

“They’ll come out nice, I’m sure. I think you’ll photograph well.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and now it’s your turn to be unsure of how to resurrect the conversation.

“You’re beautiful.” It’s an abrupt comment. It makes your stomach twist in a pleasant, fluttery way, and you become hyperaware of his form sitting next to yours.

“Haven’t heard that one much, but thanks.”

Johnny turns to you. “Anyone who’d think otherwise is a fool.”

There’s a pause after this where you both simply study each other, watching for hidden reactions that can’t be read on the surface. The way he says it is…decisive, assured. But it also manages to be tender, as if he needs you to know what he thinks of you. Needs you to see yourself the way he does—the same way you do for him. You don’t know where the confidence comes from, but maybe his tone and his words and his endlessly dark eyes have pulled it out of you. “I want to kiss you.”

Johnny’s lips part. “Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore. Johnny moves closer to you and cups the back of your neck. Something awakens in his eyes in the seconds before he presses his mouth to yours. Though he wants to drink eagerly from your lips, his kiss is languid to avoid overwhelming you, and there is an audible smack of your lips whenever he pulls away and presses back in.

His mouth tastes like the coffee you just drank, but underneath that you swear you can taste a hint of the deep iron of blood, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You think about what his fangs would feel like scraping against your bottom lip, if he’d ever show them to you, and you moan quietly.

“Do you want this? With me?” Johnny confirms once more, pulling his gaze away from your lips and up to your eyes. His own eyes are yearning, but there is also an element of something like fear roiling in them. As if you’d turn him away, even though you’ve already shown your desire for him.

“Yes. Just you. No one else.”

Johnny’s body gravitates towards yours, and you think he’s going to push you down onto the sofa, but he scoops your legs up and carries you to his bedroom instead. Even his hands on your waist and legs makes you burn inside.

This is the first time you've seen his bedroom. The sheets are cloud-soft when he sets you down on them, and his window lets moonlight shine through the open blinds and scatter in thick beams across the floor. The only other light source is the bedside lamp, which emits a comfortable yellowish glow.

Johnny joins you on the bed and lets you climb into his lap—encourages you to do so. His cool hands pulling at your thighs as you settle them on either side of his waist makes tingles go through your body. You don’t hesitate to bring your lips back together, kissing each other deeply as one of his hands cradles the back of your head and the other settles on the small of your back.

You are certain vampires don’t have any powers of enchantment—that’s for magic wielders. And yet, you feel like you’ve been put in a trance by his kisses alone, and you wonder how you could’ve lived this long without knowing how his lips feel—how they fit perfectly against your own. As if everything up to now has purposely led you together.

You shift in Johnny’s embrace, and the movement causes his thigh to slide between your legs. Your heat is pressed against his thigh directly now, your silken panties catching against the denim of his pants. You murmur against his lips, not really saying anything of substance but wanting to vocalize your desire to him. Johnny’s hand tightens slightly on your back, and he experimentally lifts his leg higher and slides his thigh across you. That draws a gasp from you.

Noticing your positive response, Johnny continues rocking his thigh up against your pussy and kissing you until you’re breathless and your nipples are straining against the fabric of your dress. You pull away from him for a moment to try to ground yourself, feeling like your nerves are already being singed with fiery pleasure. Johnny’s face is noticeably more flushed than before, but he also looks much more composed than you feel at the moment.

“It takes longer to get hard,” he explains, as if reading the lingering question in your own expression. “Since...you know. Slow blood.” You rock your hips over his thigh more enthusiastically, motivated to get him hard underneath you, and you listen to his choppy breaths as you move. Your movements aren’t the smoothest, but he helps you guide your hips in a way that feels good for you both. You’ve never been with anyone before, so it doesn’t much matter to you how long or quick it takes for him to get there as long as he does.

Feeling the bulge grow underneath you excites you. Johnny groans against your lips as you kiss him and rub yourself over his member. The sound comes from somewhere deep inside him, as if it’s something he’s been containing for a long time. Your hand goes to his waist and tugs at his belt loops, then drifts closer to his belt buckle, pulling the leather and metal apart. Johnny pauses when you get off his lap and slide further down, grips your arms like he doesn’t want you to go. “Are…you sure? You don’t have to…if it’s too much—”

“I want to, Johnny.”

With your affirmative, he lets you kneel between his legs, pull his zipper apart, and trace your curious fingers over the bulge beneath the fabric of his underwear. Johnny loses his breath when you drag his underwear down, sliding it over the heated skin of his dick. His length is thick and long—even with him not being fully hard yet—and the tip glistens wet with precum. You weren’t sure what to expect, but this is much bigger than you think you might be able to handle. It makes your face warm and your stomach do another series of flips. Still, you want it and you want him, so you aren’t going to stop now.

You lean closer to press your lips against his shaft, leaving a few soft kisses behind. Johnny’s mouth parts when your mouth touches him.

Johnny gently holds the back of your head as you leave small licks over his shaft, tasting the salty skin on your tongue. He lets out a shaky breath as he watches you, his other hand brushing the side of your face.

“Just like that…” he murmurs, his voice heavy with lust as you circle your tongue around the thick, darkened tip, catching drops of his precum. He never takes his eyes off you, and this makes you feel a little exposed, but you continue with your actions. When you suck Johnny’s tip past your lips, his thighs tense under you, the thick muscle reacting beautifully to your actions on his body.

More precum drips from him, and you find the taste strangely pleasing. It makes you want more of him, of whatever he has to offer you. You wrap your hand around his shaft, though it doesn’t fit entirely around, and begin stroking him in a way you hope feels good.

Johnny’s hand slips over yours to guide your movements and show you how much pressure to apply, what pace to stroke him at. “Like this, baby…yes, that’s so good…” He showers you with praise as you get the hang of it, and he eventually lets your hand go so you can do it on your own, his own hand drifting back to the bed to grip the comforter.

It’s hard to quantify just how much seeing you like this turns him on, you kneeling between his legs with his cock between your lips while wearing your pretty, angelic outfit. His previous guilt about “corrupting” you descends to the very back of his mind as he savors every moment of your hands on his cock and your tongue circling his slit.

“I’m close,” he whispers. You quicken your movements on him, hollowing your cheeks tighter around his dick, and the moan he gives shoots straight between your legs.

Johnny carefully pulls your head back so you won’t choke before he comes, streams of his seed shooting into your mouth and running down his cock. Your hand still squeezes around him as he comes, and he slowly thrusts into the tight circle of your fist as you milk every drop from him. By the time he’s spent, your mouth and hand and part of the sheets are completely sticky with his release. You imagine it must have been a long time since he’s last had an orgasm.

The vampire watches intently as you swallow his cum, which causes his softening dick to throb in your hand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, uncaring of the taste of himself in your mouth. His hair tickles your face as he kisses you feverishly, his nose bumping yours and his tongue prodding past your lips.

“Come here, angel.” Johnny pulls your body up onto the bed before you can get yourself up there first. The pet name makes warmth flood through your body, like drinking a hot chocolate at the café, except a thousand times more satisfying. Johnny’s hands are once again caressing your thighs, though this time they slide up underneath your dress and squeeze your hips. “Can I take these pretty panties off you?”

“Please.”

He hooks his fingers into the sides of them and pulls them down your legs and past your ankles. One of his hands goes underneath your dress to feel you soft and wet against his fingers, and you both moan at the same time. He slides his digits through your lips and over your clit, and him leaning forward to bring his mouth to your throat is enough to have you nearly overwhelmed. His fingers tease your entrance but don’t push inside until you nearly have to beg him.

“Please, Johnny…” You push your hips up to get his attention.

“Do you want my fingers?” he asks softly.

“Y-yes…” At your words, he eases the middle one into you, slowly enough to avoid discomfort. It feels strange to have someone else’s fingers inside you. His finger reaches further than yours can, touching you more deeply than you’ve felt before; it makes you gasp a bit too sharply.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, freezing and thinking he might’ve done something wrong.

“N-no, I’m fine. Keep going.”

Johnny’s mouth edges closer to the cleavage of your dress as he starts thrusting his finger into you, warming you up enough to take a second digit. Shakily, you bring your hands up to slide the straps down and make it easier for him, and his breath hitches when you pull the top of your dress down.

His mouth envelopes one of your nipples as he slides the second finger into you. His fingers encounter a part of you that makes you moan unexpectedly and grab onto him, a little surprised at the sudden spike of pleasure.

“You’re so pretty,” he purrs, his lips moving against the curve of your breast as he speaks. “And so responsive.”

As Johnny’s mouth and fingers work you closer to an orgasm, you marvel at how handsome he looks and how good he feels. He opens his eyes to see you staring at him, your pupils wide and mouth desperate, and he separates himself from your chest to kiss you deeply once again.

When you come around his fingers, Johnny whispers more compliments to you about how good you are and how he wants to watch you come undone because of him all the time. When he thinks you might be on the brink of overstimulation, he takes his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth to taste you.

“I’ll take this off now. Is that okay?” He whispers this into your ear with his hands on either side of your hips, caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I-it’s okay.”

Johnny slips your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your white sheer stockings. The sight of you sitting there on his bed, breathing heavily from your climax in your pretty thigh-highs, has his cock throbbing and rising to life once again.

“Lay back on the bed.” You do, and he settles himself between your legs like you did for him earlier. When you glance at him, his eyes are heavy and piercing. In this moment, you are acutely reminded of the fact that he is not a human, with how he looks like a beast of prey about to devour a meal. You are too nervous to look back at him for long, so you stare at the ceiling with your legs shaking from anticipation.

Johnny’s mouth on you is almost jarring in how wet it is, and you arch up into him in surprise and a rush of pleasure. He gently presses your legs back onto the bed and continues licking into you, parting your lower lips with his tongue and making your thighs tremble under his grasp.

If you had to describe it in words, you probably wouldn’t be able to. He kisses your pussy the same way he kisses you on the mouth, passionately and with more than enough tongue to satisfy. Johnny slips his fingers into you again as he curls his lips around your clit, and you moan unabashedly.

You’re quickly spiraling towards another orgasm, maybe quicker than you expected; but it makes sense with you still being so raw from the climax you just had. You gain enough courage to give another glance down at Johnny, and you see the way his other arm moves back and forth from beneath the bed, stroking himself while he eats you out. Something about that pushes you over the edge, and you cry out as you come on his tongue.

As Johnny gives you time to calm down again, he stands and finally pulls his clothes off, baring his body to you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen a man so beautiful.

He goes to get a condom, and your words stumble from your lips before you can psych yourself out of saying them. “I-I’m on birth control.” Johnny looks back at you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite read. He comes closer to you, holding himself above you on the bed so his face is hovering just above yours.

“You want to feel me raw?” he whispers.

You nod under his burning stare, feeling like you’re on a high you won’t be able to get off of. “I need you, Johnny.”

Johnny climbs fully onto the bed then and positions himself between your legs. His cock is thick and heavy between his thighs as it bumps against your inner thigh and leaves a smear of precum behind. After putting some lube in his hand, he slicks himself with the sticky substance, preparing himself to fuck you open. Something deep in your abdomen shudders, and your walls clench around nothing as you watch him stroke his shaft, the squelching, wet sound of his hand on his dick loud in the quiet room.

When he’s done, he grabs your thighs and pulls you a little closer to him. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The slick tip prodding at your hole makes you want more, though you are a bit afraid of how this is going to feel. When it finally pushes inside of you, you gasp. Johnny watches your face for signs of pain as he slides forward further.

With two previous orgasms and the lube to help, his cock stretches you open with some discomfort, but not the kind of sharp pain you expected. Your nails leave little half-moon shapes on Johnny’s biceps as you squeeze his arms and try to keep your lower half relaxed, wanting to take all of him in—or as much as you can manage, anyway. You try to keep your breathing even as he pushes into you slowly.

Your eyebrows crease and your mouth tightens when he slides deeper still, and he pauses. “Johnny…” You worry your lip with your teeth, feeling like you’ve been stuffed to the brim—and he’s not even all the way in yet.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you beg, maintaining your grip on his arms. “Just…try moving.”

Johnny pulls out and slowly thrusts back in again, angling his dick to find that sensitive spot within you. Your mouth falls open silently when he does; this feels much, much different from his fingers. This is better.

Johnny repeats the movement, being mindful not to push himself too deep—only enough for you to handle. Beneath him, your body begins unwinding at the pleasure he’s delivering to you, and your eyes flutter closed as the ecstasy takes over your mind. One of his hands goes to tease your clit as he settles into a good rhythm, and you cry out at the extra dose of pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well,” Johnny mumbles as he sits back and watches himself slide into you, both of your lower halves slick from lube and your own wetness. “So warm and wet, angel…” You can tell he’s using a lot of his energy to keep his pace controlled and gentle enough for you to actually enjoy. The idea of being fucked harder makes you ache deep inside, but you figure it’s best to save that for when you’re more used to this. You already know it’ll be difficult to walk in the morning after this.

Johnny leans forward to kiss your lips, changing the angle again and circling his pelvis into you, and a choked gasp escapes your mouth at the slow wind of his hips.

Johnny lavishes your neck and throat with kisses, and though he is a vampire, you aren’t worried about him biting you. His fangs have not made an appearance since all this started, and you doubt if he would ever bring them out in front of you. You don’t know if you should ask about it, either, wondering if it’s too soon after only a month and a half of knowing each other—but maybe you could say the same about him being inside of you right now.

“Johnny…” you whisper into the air, your fingers scrabbling against his sweaty skin. The mounting tension in your abdomen is close to snapping, and you are almost frightened by how intense it already feels. He moves his face from your neck to be face-to-face with you again and plants a heavy, dizzying kiss on your lips.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve got you, Y/N.”

Falling apart in Johnny’s arms feels like a form of Heaven that’s meant to be kept hidden, because you might become addicted to it otherwise. Your inner muscles squeeze around his dick as you come. His name flows from your lips in a high song. You can’t imagine any physical sensation that could be better than this, his hips rocking into you as you tighten and cream around him, and you know innately that Johnny has ruined all chances of you ever feeling this fulfilled with anyone but him.

The constant pulse of your walls against his dick is too much to withstand for long, and Johnny’s muscles pull taut with pleasure when he comes, groaning into your neck and spilling overflowing streams of thick cum into you. His hips falter in their former rhythm, and he resists the urge to push himself as deep as he can into you.

When he pulls out, you whine from the discomfort of it, but also because you wish he could stay in you forever. You know you’ll be sore when you wake up—and you can already feel the very beginnings of exhaustion and ache settling in your body—but you’d do it a hundred times over without changing a thing.

—

Johnny curls himself around you after he’s cleaned the both of you up, as if he means to shield you from the world. You’re quiet for a while as you listen to his slow-beating heart and feel his cool skin against yours.

You look up at his face, which is hard to see distinctly in the dark of the room. With the lamp turned out, the only source of light comes from the moon now, but you can decipher enough to make out the shape of his lips and his glittering eyes. You know he can see much better than you in this light, and he takes his time tracing his fingers across your face and cheek, studying your features.

“Would you ever…make me a vampire?”

His body tenses at your question. “Don’t say anything ridiculous. You still have a whole life ahead of you to live. What I have here...this is no existence.” He’s not mad, at least not at you, but his voice hardens at the very idea of it.

“But what if I wanted to live it with you?”

Johnny takes a breath, but he doesn’t say anything to that. He just continues stroking your face and looks at you for a long time, like he’s searching for something. You don’t know if you truly expected an answer from him, or how you would feel if he did give one.

Eventually, your eyes begin to fall low, and sleep overcomes you. The last thing you register is Johnny’s chilly hand touching your cheek. When he notices you’ve drifted off, he pulls the covers tighter around you both. Then he presses you to his chest as he tunes out the sound of cars rumbling on the streets below in exchange for the beating of your heart—still alive, so red with blood.

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gumdecay · 6 years

Text

#i had 32oz coffee w 8 shots of espresso n my barista crush was lookin @ me like im fuckin nuts (i am so its fair u kno) n i said i didnt sle #ep last night bc i Didnt bc i kept having nightmares n thinking abt the dumbass man im tryin 2 make love me (lol) n he said 'ok but u kno ur #not gonna sleep 2night either right????' like bitch u THINK im already tired its been n hr since i had it like.... caffeine doesnt work on m #e nymore my system has Stopped Allowing it 2 Wake Me Up it was good tho he makes damn good coffee n i wish he would ask me out bc hes cute a #s hell even tho hes like.... not that much taller than me which is :// but hes cute enough n sweet enough its chill #anyway im getting RLLY tired of b not inviting me over all the time i think i might make another account on sa lmfao my pathetic attention s #tarved ASS isnt doing this whole Exclusive thing v well :')

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ratherbefangirling · 2 years

Note

Hi there! My name is Janai and I’m from Australia :)

I’m introverted but I do like interacting with people sometimes, not always I can usually handle a few people at a time

I don’t really have a partner type I suppose someone who’s kind and doesn’t mind if I have a disability and just likes me for me!

If I didn’t have a disability I’d be doing something medical I think?

I like dying my hair very colourful colours, right now it’s green and blue. I love watching movies and shows. Currently addicted to supernatural. I’m addicted to coffee and iced coffee! Should break the habit but I won’t 😂.

I have 2 doggos, Bruce and Gabby. Unfortunately Gabby got diagnosed with cancer so we are keeping her comfortable at the moment.

My bias is JK

I’m fine with any trope

Ship type any also

Thankyou so much by the way! Hope you have a good day

Hi Janai,

To be fair I think most of the population relies on that extra dose of caffeine to function and I really hope you have/find people in your life who like you for you.

The person I ship you with is Jungkook.

Tbh this is literally a full fic but I didn't wanna half-ass this. So here you go. I will say tho wanting to turn this into a yandere fanfic was a tempting still I'm glad I didn't. Hope you like that.

Warnings ⚠️ : mentions of disability (I tried research and imagined it so please correct me if I'm wrong and forgive me for my mistakes) , insecurities.

Jungkook had always been a bit different from his pack while he knew they were fond of him his words of tattoos and piercings were first dismissed as childish and later his actions were concerns he'd stumbled his packmates talked about in hushed voices. Even the kind and openminded Luna held some reservations. The society they lived in promoted what they called natural living so things like dying your hair in 'unnatural colors' and piercings were looked down upon and tattoos that was simply unacceptable.

Many a times Jungkook had wondered what if his mate ended up hating them and him because of it.

Jungkook had been sitting with his pack luna who though younger than him was wise beyond her years and suited Namjoon hyung his pack leader wonderfully. Except now they'd fought probably about her age. He knew the alpha felt guilty that she was so young and he'd made her pack luna and deprived her of her chance to live her life.

"I am living my I do not know how to explain it to him. Its so frustrating Kookie. This is what I've wanted. He keeps talking about ideas and goals but for the love of the moon goddess its about freedom to choose. I attended university for 6 months and got sick of it but I couldn't tell anyone not when it's what my pack wanted for me, to be strong and independent but that's ridiculous you know we are pack animals. I want to be me but also belong somewhere."

Jungkook nodded. He understood how thick headed their alpha could be sometimes.

"It's ok hyung will come around you know he loves you." He says.

Before he can say more the alpha's scent enters the clearing.

"Baby... I'm sorry. I promise I hadn't meant to be like that." There is a apology on his lips and wild flowers in his hands. He sees the Luna's eyes softening and its Jungkook's cue to leave. He wonders what his soulmate is doing.

By dinner time everyone is gathered to eat together and the atmosphere has improved the other members feel relieved that the alpha and Luna are no longer ignoring each other.

"I almost forgot, they found your mate." Namjoon declares. There is silence before the table erupts in cheers.

Jungkook chokes on his food.

"Wah, I'm jealous I'm the oldest and the ultimate husband material and I have yet to find mine." Jin complains jokingly.

"All in good time." Yoongi says.

The rest of the days Jungkook under the guidance of his Luna clears his room and makes space for his mate. Jimin and Taehyung who'd decided to help are coveting Jungkook's stuff which he had bought but never used. Sometimes the other members would drop in and do the same.

Jungkook focused on cleaning his room so that his mate could see the best of him, the remaining time was spent in the gym. He wanted to look good for his mate, prove it to her that he was worthy of her and could protect and support her.

The night before his first video call with you. He was pretty nervous but overhearing the pack alpha and luna shout at each other regarding you made him stop in his tracks.

"You need to tell him. Namjoon."

"I know but this is her thing to tell. He needs to know from his mate."

"No you need to warn him because if he reacts badly his mate's wolf might be scarred forever." The luna insisted.

"What is it?" He interrupts.

The luna's eyes soften with pity.

"Nothing."

"Namjoon." The luna chided.

"Fine. Your mate has cerebral palsy." Namjoon tells him.

"...what's that?"

"She has difficulty in walking and uses crutches. We just got to know when we talked to their pack representative about how we could help her in her new home."

Jungkook's brain stopped working for a moment and the pack alpha and luna shared a look with each other.

"Did you see her?"

" I saw her picture and I think you're going to love her."

"She's my mate ofcourse I'm going to love her." Jungkook says.

The luna shakes her head.

"No its not because she's your mate it's because she's her."

Jungkook didn't understand the Luna's words until the video call.

Your hair matched his. Your smiles had him bewitched and so did the dog who sat on your lap. You both talked for hours and not even realising the time that had passed. Until your mother knocked on your door and told you it was time for your medicines.

The rest of the evening the pack teased him for the lovestruck look he had on his eyes but he didn't care he found his mate and he loved her.

Yoongi has turned the house wheelchair safe, it was already baby proof because of Namjoon. The biggest project was installing a passage to their roof which had the greenhouse and they often had barbecue parties on. While Jungkook proudly claimed he could carry you. The older ones acknowledged the need for space and independence.

"You're her mate but you're still a stranger and sometimes people just need space."

When you'd arrived at the pack house you were concerned what if they didn't like you, what if he decided he was better off alone. Your mom and the pack Luna's elder daughter your best friend had accompanied you.

Jungkook on the other hand had been on edge all day waiting for you. When he'd seen the big van car he had rushed to the gate. Your mom helped you down to the ground. Pushing your wheelchair closer to where the house entrance was located.

Jungkook had waved as he saw you and despite everything you couldn't help but smile at him.

"Can I?" He asked your mother and when she looked at you for confirmation you nodded.

This wasn't something you could hide no matter how much you may want to sometimes.

Your wolf preened at being taken care by your mate.

Namjoon came out to meet them and they started talking but you, you couldn't take your eyes of your handsome mate, wondering what you'd done to get him as your mate.

"Do you want to go to the green house while they talk about the boring stuff?" Jungkook asks. You nod.

The ride is a bit dangerous because you're scared of slopes. Suddenly your wheelchair stopped. You wondered if it was because you were too heavy. You looked back at Jungkook. He had his finger over his lips, motioning you to be quiet and pointed towards the trees. You followed the line of sight and saw two parrots nuzzling each other. After a while they spread their wings and went off to the sky.

"The luna brought the parrots here, they were babies so they rarely like getting out of their cage but sometimes they do so we try not to startle them." He informs you.

You were about to reply when Taehyung's voice interrupted asking you both to come down.

After that you guys talked often even hung out at every opportunity, within three months Jungkook asked you to marry him.

Funnily enough Jungkook broke his leg a month before the wedding because he was too overexcited rushing to get the wedding gift he'd gotten you and fell from the stairs. The gift was a travel bag which could be converted to a seat so that you don't feel forced to stand up more than you need to for the honeymoon.

You couldn't be happier.

*should have ended here but I live for Angst* *it's a problem ..* this is your warning ⚠️ *

You and the Luna had a lot of fun together but when two of the pack Jin and Taehyung found mates close to each other, the house was thrown into a frenzy. Meaning your best friend was busy and somehow you felt pushed to the side.

To top it off Taehyung's mate was colorblind and that was the talk of the town. A lot of things were removed from the common area of the house so that she would feel comfortable, while you weren't going to fuss you ended up maybe slightly overreacting over the removal of one of the pieces. It had been a pack portrait Jungkook had painted and gifted you after mating, it was close to your heart and precious.

It's removal felt like the removal of you which was absurd but still a lot of old insecurities which you thought you were over came rushing in.

Jungkook knocked the door before entering, you wiped your tears and turned away from the door.

"Janai.... love."

You really didn't want to talk to your husband, you couldn't listen to him take their side.

"Come on baby look at me."

"Jungkook not right now."

" Do you want to get iced coffee."

"That's such a bad idea."

"That's not what I asked baby?"

"Yes." You huff.

You stand up to take out clothes from your closet but almost fall luckily Jungkook is right there to catch you still he stumbles on the floor. Instead of trying to get up you lay your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat. On his part Jungkook just strokes your head.

"As much as I like this cuddling session we need to get that coffee before the shop closes."

You get up and manage to sit on the bed. Jungkook takes out clothes both for himself and you. He goes to take a shower since he had come from the gym, luckily that gives you enough time to get ready without feeling too embarrassed.

When Jungkook comes out you're wearing shoes. He helps you tie it and fondness surges in your heart. In one of the conversations you had with Jimin because you'd been feeling low and avoiding Jungkook because you didn't want to depend on him too much. Jimin had told you about Jungkook's fantasy of tying shoes and carrying people, though the latter was mostly to show that he might be their youngest but he was stronger than any of them. You'd laughed when Jimin had recollected how drunk Jungkook had carried him bridal style and spun him and Jimin had to bite Jungkook to make him stop and the other's hadn't let him forget especially Taehyung who threatened him with the video.

Jungkook takes out the wheelchair and you sit on it. On your way out your relieved when none of the pack is in site.

Jungkook drives you to your favourite coffee shop. You order coffee and he orders chocolate milk. The milk addict.

After a while, he says if you want a walk now having a walk is key word for talking about your feelings and you don't want to because you want to feel angry not sad because you might have lashed out but it was only because you felt unsafe.

You sigh and agree.

Jungkook offers you his back and you get on it. Walking by the Riverside. The night is charming.

"Its so good."

"Do you feel better?"

".. mm yes."

"I'm glad now do you want to tell me what happened."

"I .. just .. you're going to hate me."

" Never. I promise you that there's nothing you can do that'll make me hate you."

You feel some of the tension leave you.

"Like Jin's and Tae's mates are coming which is great and I'm happy for them but I don't ... I mean.. at first the Luna removed the plates my mom gave me and those have been in my family from generations.. but its fine the others also need space I understood then last week remember the sapling I'd planted so that finally started growing but Alpha removed it because apparently that part of the garden Jin wanted to give to his mate .... I know I know you probably think I'm childish and anyway I barely interact with plants so it was no big deal but today Luna removed our mating gift, you'd worked so hard for it Kookie I couldn't just let it happen and now the pack hates me."

You bury your face in his back.

"They don't hate you we just need to make some modifications is all remember when you came the pack spent weeks to make sure every space in the house was accessible that's just how they are."

"I know but I was so scared that I was going to be replaced that they no longer care about me, I don't know what I will do if they hate me."

"No baby, that's not how it is."

"I'm just I'm so sorry."

"Dont stress it love do you want to get an apology cake."

"Yes please."

When you reach the house Luna is already waiting for you.

"I'm so sorry Janai , I shouldn't have gotten angry at you. I'm sorry we fought."

"I'm sorry I over reacted."

"Then friends again." She asks.

You feel Jungkook's supportive squeeze where your hands are buried in his pocket. His other hand holding the cake. He gives the cake to the Luna and who calls the others members to the table.

Jungkook guides your wheelchair into the house.

And if you ask me there's no need to worry as long as Jungkook has your back.

#bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #disabled #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts ships #bts ship game #bts ship game 2.0 #werewolf #bts werewolf au

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allegra-writes · 3 years

Text

The real Self-Insert💚

A.K.A HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANA

This is just a little cracky something for my adored @chaoticpete for her birthday. I LOVE YOU FOREVER MY STUNNING CHAOS TWIN💖

If it weren't for the fact that they saw with their own eyes the exact moment the golden sparkly portal opened up above their heads, Dana's unusually fast reflexes the only thing saving Allie from a certain death (or at leat a very painful concussion), as a very big, very much corporeal Loki fell through it, they wouldn't have believed it.

Like, Marvel Loki. Tom Hiddleston-looking Loki, six-foot-two tall Loki, all leather and metal full asgardian armor on, cracking the pavement under him as he hit the ground.

As it was, they still had trouble believing it, looking up to where the portal had disappeared -again, before their very eyes to the unresponsive. Man? Comic character? Being? God? Laying on the floor.

"Allie, do you see him too?"

"..."

"Allie, tell me I'm not imagining this" Dana reached blindly for Allie's hand beside her, eyes never leaving Loki's figure, unblinking. Finally, she felt her friend's grip on her wrist. They both deemed it close enough to a hand hold.

"It's real"

She was kind of expecting that answer but somehow it didn't make it any easier to process.

It didn't really help that Loki still wasn't moving.

"Is he... Is he dead?"

"I don't know"

"... Poke him"

"What??"

"Poke him with a stick"

"Dude I'm not GOING TO POKE THE GOD OF MISCHIEF WITH A STICK-" Their increasingly louder chatter was interrupted by a gasp as Loki's eyes sudenly opened.

"Allie"

"I know"

"ALLIE HE LOOKED INTO ME"

"I SAW"

"Would the two of you SHUT UP?" There was a second, terrorized gasp, as the asgardian finally arose, dusting his clothes, clearly exasperated, "Even your whispers are loud! can't believe it! First the stupid green monster thats not so stupid anymore, then that would be sorcerer with his portals and now this! This is the most infuriating. exhausting, worst day EVER!"

Dana and Allie exchanged a look and a slight nod before Dana reached into her backpack, producing a magenta and blue can.

"Would you like some Rockstar?"

Loki did a double take,

"Some what?"

"It's an energy drink"

"It's the energy drink-"

"Three hundred milligrams of pure caffeine"

"And sugar, don't forget the sugar

"Yes, the sugar is very important"

"Basically the midgardian version of asgardian mead, only the other way around"

"Yeah, instead of making you drunk it makes you hyper allert"

"And energized"

Loki spent the whole explanation looking from one to the other, there was something eery in the way they talked, and moved, expanding on the other's explanation in complete synchrony. It wasn't unheard of among mortals, he knew. But it usually was limited to twins and these girls couldn't look more different

Except for the fact they were both tiny. And strangely endearing. He had never been one to be swayed by midgardian beauty, but he had to admit there was something charming in their sparkly eyes and impish little faces.

"So you say this... Drink of yours, it can help me recover?" He inquired cautiously. The two girls nodded eagerly, still offering the can to him. He took it, sniffed it, shrugged to himself, and took a sip.

It was foul. Overly sweet and fragant, reminding him of the medicine the healers used to give him back home at the palace, when he was an infant.

But for some reason he could not stop drinking it. He didn't, in fact, downing the whole thing in one go.

"This is... Strangely invigorating" He concluded, handing the empty can back to the impressed girls still gawking at him. And then doing something that sent their jaws to the floor, "Thank you, you are both very kind and agreeable... For a couple of mortals, of course"

The two girls beamed at him, and he couldnt help but smile a little in return. He didn't miss the way their heartbeats lost their rythm, only to return faster and louder than ever at his smile. He smirked to himself, yeah, he still had it.

"Well, I should be off then-" He tried turning around to open a portal of his own but was immediately stopped by twin over-excited voices speaking over each other.

"Wait! Can I get a selfie?"

"Wait! Can I get a knife??"

"Dude!"

He didn't know which request surprised him and pleased him the most.

Well, that's a lie, he knew exactly which one it was. Yes, he had a big ego, so what?

"Why, yes, of course" He grinned, obviously flattered. Having seen his brother do it plenty of times, he leaned down a little, as the girls placed themselves on either side of him, cellphones up high to be able to fit all three of them into frame. He felt them jump a little as he placed his arms around both their waists, smiling even wider. Once that was done he snapped his fingers, a blue portal appearing behind him, showing the face of an impassive Natasha and a confused Thor, as Loki bent down, delicately taking the girls hands into his huge ones, kissing their knuckles in turns.

"I bid you farewell, my fair ladies. You have been most helpful and pleasant. I will not forget your kindness..."

The girls giggled, flushed and giddy as the portal closed behind the god of mischief, and he disappeared once again, the crack in the pavement and the tingle on their hands the only testament of his presence there.

"Oh my god. Did that-... Thay actually happened, right?"

"I have no idea, but if we are hallucinating, I promise I will never, ever, complain about our last braincell again"

"Same... To bad we didn't get knives tho"

"Dee!"

"What? You so wanted his dagger too, don't try to lie to me"

Allie snorted,

"Dude, do you have to make it sound so dirty?... You're not wrong tho"

"You know I have to. And I know I'm not"

"Dee..."

"Yeah?"

"We met Loki"

"I know! I mean I still can't believe it tho. Did we? I mean we did, right? We have a selfie to prove it..." There was a beat before Dana started complaining about Allie's backpack, "What do you even carry im here? I swear this thing gets heavier by the minute"

She took it off and peered into it.

"ALLIE COME HERE YOU ARE NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS"

The end.

@chaoticpete Baby D, my gorgeous, crazy, tallented, amazing, showstoppin soul sister, words cannot express how much I love ypu and how much your friendship means to me. I made you cry this morning but I hope this can make you laugh💖 You make my days brighter, twin from another mother. I love you, so so much. Hope you like this💖💖

#loki #self insert #crack #birthday present for the birthday girl #I love you baby D #dana my chaos twin💖

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facelessxchurch · 3 years

Note

So I found enough time and caffeine to read through the Grimoire PDF at last. I'm on page 300 and I'm so, so glad I didn't reward him with money for making this shambolic mess. The man makes me cringe like hell; his obnoxiousness bleeds through in so many insufferable ways. There are some kinds of toxic virginity that you can't lose no matter how much sex you have, neckbeard.

It's less 'toxic virginity' and more like 'toxic stupidity' like Peter Griffin or Patrick Star during the shitty post-movie seasons of SB. Nothing more annoying than a stupid man that is convinced of his own brilliance mixed with blatant disrespect for others, especially if these others are his customers. Releasing the Grimoire in the state it is in is an insult to the customer/fanbase and acknowledging it (even if it's done in an in-vers manner) doesn't make it any less infuriating.

Tho to be fair, one of the complaints I had was that the Grimoire had no index and they actually added that to the eBook version, judging by the updated Amazon preview. They also just have the last page be part of the preview now which kinda spoils the 'big twist'. But whatever, I guess.

Also, it has an additional alternative archivist seal now, which is just straight up Skul's head for whatever reason.

Just straight up not pretending anymore that the skull on the seal ain't Skulduggery's and that the whole world of SP doesn't revolve around Skulduggery anymore. That had to be one of the most infuriating things about that Grimoire: that even the goddamn WORLD book just has to revolve almost completely around Skulduggery (and Valkyrie). I admit, the world building is crap and not worth focusing on bc somehow the more Landy focuses on it the worse it gets. But why have such a massive cast of characters if you are always only going to focus on two of them?

For comparison, here is the other seal.

Amazing how they couldn't even be arsed to remove the butt of the cicada here. And on the eBook version they didn't remove the cicada from the seal on the cover at all, even though they did it for the physical copies.

I'm almost amazed at how every singe little bit about the Grimoire that could possible be half-assed is half-assed.

Good thing you provided page numbers, otherwise I wouldn't know what you were talking about. Been a hot minute since I've read the Grimoire lol. This part, right?

Isn't saying 'on the ground' not a pretty normal Englisch idiom? Like 'on the ground reporting' but also something like 'on the ground agent' in like crime TV shows?

Was it painful only bc of the last quarter was about phase 2 or also bc of the Gog Magog stuff?

Ngl, I was suffering through all of it, but especially the Skul's dad stuff was fucking painful to read through jfc- How nice that you could at least get something out of the phase 1 stuff. I admit, even I felt a bit more inspired/got some new ideas while reading the phase 1 stuff involving the nasty bois, but the phase 2 stuff (including Gog Magog) killed that real fast.

Plus, reading the summaries of the phase 1 books made me realize that I don't exactly enjoy the phase 1 books either, at least not plot-wise. And I grew out of the 'humor'. Straight up the only thing these books have going on for me is their aesthetic at this point since the nasty bois, aka the only parts I actually enjoy, don't feature enough to save the series.

#SP Grimoire #answered #anonymous

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lozzypoz321 · 4 years

Text

Word count: 3.8k!

A/N: this is one of my favourite things I’ve ever written and I’m super proud of it, also the biggest word count I’ve ever done, hope you enjoy and pretty please leave feedback!! <3

Warnings: brief mentions of underage sex, calling of child services, brief mentions of an anxiety attack

Avengers college AU

Bucky: Guys I’m really desperate

Bruce: what?

Steve: wdym?

Bucky: does anyone have the first period free tomorrow? Can’t afford a babysitter for Riley :/

Tony: nah can’t, I’ve got a busy schedule

Clint: economics man

Bruce: science m8

Nat: same as Clint I’m afraid Jamesy

Clint: wbu Steve?

Steve: library club and I can’t skip

Bucky: >: I

Bucky: I think I may be having a midlife crisis.

Tony: okay 1. You’re 20 and 2. You shouldn’t have gone an’ knocked up a woman at 17

Nat: Tony!

Bucky: You’re acting like you didn’t get some at 17 Tony

Bruce: he has a fair point.

Nat: and anyway Riley’s too pure for your insults Tony

Bucky: uwu

Tony: you have officially turned into every teenage girl Barnes

Nat: anywayyyyyyy, Thor how’re you coping with your brother’s “phase”

Tony: I am starting to think Loki’s goth phase isn’t just a phase Natalie, I caught him walking around in a skull T-shirt with chains this morning

Clint: oh daym

Steve: what are you going to do?

Thor: I am going to show that I respect him by buying him some flowers!

Clint: What abt a chain tho?

Nat: wait, does anyone wanna go to laser tag at some point?

Tony: oooh yes!

Bruce: yeah I’m down! :)

Steve: I’ve got time yeah thanks

Bucky: I never back down from a laser tag game

Nat: great! I’ll book it with Tony’s card

Tony: wait what?

Bucky: oh shit, I’ve gotta go, Riley’s just run away somewhere brb

Clint: oh damn.

Bucky shoved his phone hastily into his pocket and looked around, desperation filling his eyes as they searched for any sign of his daughter. The bushes swayed with the evening breeze and very few people strolled around campus, either going on a walk, meeting up early with friends or getting food. The young adult heavily sighed out of relief when he caught sight of Riley, excitedly chatting to a man, who James quickly identified him as one of his other friends, Sam.

Braking out into a light jog, he made his way across campus to the pair while also trying to avoid bumping into the other students that were now staring at him, in college he was basically known as the fuck boy. Not that he was, the only reason behind it was that he had a daughter at 17 and everyone apart from his friends never saw past that.

“What’re you doing here munchkin?” He asked the small girl who was now shyly smiling at her father. Sam chuckled at the duo and turning his attention away from Riley, “wasn’t her fault dude, just telling me how she’s going to chemistry class tomorrow, can’t wait to see that” he said with a sly smirk on his face.

Bucky mentally sighed, yes it was going to be very tough tomorrow. Not only was she very restless, but she also was very talkative and wouldn’t put a filter on around people older than her, which most of the time could be very offensive. “Yeah! I promised him I’ll be good!”

“Oh really? Well I kinda hoped you’d have something to say to Professor Demon”

“Sam,” he groaned and ran a hand through his hair “his names Damon, if he caught you sayin’ that then we’d get suspended so quickly dude” Riley giggled and looked up at her dad innocently “and then we’d go poor because you suck at getting jobs”

“He sucks at everything” Sam mumbled, earning a glare from the other man. “We better go get some food now, there’s literally nothing in the fridge except a can of tuna, some ketchup and packets of sour sauce from takeout awhile ago”

“Oof man”

The walk to the diner that he had decided on going to after he couldn’t be bothered going grocery shopping was a long one. Riley insisted on stopping for every dog they saw, to ask to stroke it. “Ri’ baby, we can’t keep stopping, we gotta get back to the dorm before it’s your bedtime”

The pout she sent him instantly melted his heart before he realised she knew exactly what she was doing and he readjusted his grip on her hand so she didn’t end up running away again like she did earlier.

“Ri’ what do you want?” He asked the child once the waitress had come over asking for their orders. She gave a nonchalant shrug and turned her attention back to the video that was playing on Bucky’s phone that he had given her for the wait. “M’kay so, can we get a,” he took a pause to take a quick glance at the kid’s menu on the table “chicken nuggets and chips please with… chocolate milkshake?”

Riley nodded and the waitress, who from the name tag on her apron, was named Elizabeth, began to write down both his and her order but halfway through gave a quick glance up to Bucky, but when he caught her cheeks flooded red that made his daughter snort.

“Is that all sir?”

“Riley shut up” he quietly told the girl as Elizabeth walked away with her head down. “She was flirting with you dad” she laughed making him jokingly nudge her across the table “Oi, and anyway she’s not my type munchkin”

“Well don’t be too loud, the creeps staring at you dad”

He didn’t mean to, but without thinking his head whipped round to instantly make eye contact with the woman who was biting her lip, her eyes now as big as plates. His cheeks heated furiously as he immediately turned back around to face his adorable giggling daughter. “You better like those chicken nuggets munchkin cause I’ve got to go through this to get them”

“I will dad, I like chickens”

“Riley, come on you gotta get some sleep” he groaned once she’d slid onto the sofa where he was writing his assignment last minute for the fifth time that night.

“But dad,” She whined and pulled on the sleeve of the college logo sweater he had pulled on without even thinking about it once they’d got home as he had only just realised he had a paper to write, “I’m not tired and I don’t want to be alone”

His eyes softened at the pleading look on her face that would get him to do anything she wanted him to “m’kay baby, how about we go into into the bedroom and you try to get some sleep while I finish this up”

She nodded enthusiastically and he picked up the study books and paper in one hand and Riley in the other, deep eye bags could be found on his face from the lack of sleep that he had spent pulling all-nighters working on college work and began to make his way into the small room that had a single bed pressed up against the wall with a mattress next to it, an abundance of blankets on both.

He set the small girl onto the single bed and lowered himself down into the smaller one, using the bed frame to press his back against and using a hardback book underneath the paper to rest on.

“Why do people stare at you?” Bucky only just heard Riley mumble as her eyes struggled to keep open. He stopped writing but kept his hand in the same place while grinder his teeth, wondering what to say. “Cause baby… people don’t really think that I should have you this young,” he struggled to find the words as he felt his daughter roll onto her back to listen “but they don’t understand that I love you a lot, don’t I munchkin?”

Riley giggled behind him and uttered a small yes. “At least they haven’t tried to take me away again”

The young man's breath hitched in the back of his throat at the memory flashed through his mind. They’d been watching a movie with Steve after their classes and a knock had sounded on the door.Apparently, Child services had been called by one of the students and they tried to take her away but he wouldn’t let them, they had threatened to take him to court because the living settings were not meant for a child but 17-year-old Steve had calmly spoken to them outside the room while James had been on the edge of a panic attack inside.

“Yeah, scared me Ri’” his horse voice answered back making her eyebrows scrunch in confusion “I’m not going anywhere dad. Well, unless I die but y’know”

He sent her a bitch face look over his shoulder which made her uncontrollably giggle. Bucky chuckled and set his attention back to the essay while absent mindedly talking to her about random things.

“Is Loki gonna be at the laser tag place?” She asked and added on excitedly “oooh can I come dad?!”

“Sure doll, let me tell the guys”

Buck: we got plus ones on this laser tag thing?

Bruce: whyyyy??

Thor: oooh if that is the case I would very much like to take my brother!

Nat: oh are you bringing Riley then?

Buck: yup

Steve: I don’t see why not

Tony: I’m off to speak to this really hot girl

Clint: what that spice girl?

Buck: do you mean pepper?

Clint: ah yes!

He chuckled at the screen and chucked his phone to the side while looking up to his daughter on the bed above him, going to tell her they approved before stopping and smiling to himself as he caught sight of her peaceful, sleeping form.

Without waking her up, he got off the mattress and tucked in the blankets, quietly laughing as he retrieved the earbuds she had borrowed in the diner from her pocket. “Night munchkin”

Bucky groaned as the ringing of his phone awoke him, the technology next to his ear from when he had fallen asleep sat up. “Wha’?”

It was so early in the morning that he didn’t even have the energy to think of a proper sentence, never mind say one.

Steve: hey guys make sure your ready, it starts an hour after school

Clint: Steve. School. Finishes. At. 6. Pm. What. Tf. Do. You. Mean. It. Starts. In. An. hour. After.

Nat: we thought you could do with a late start

Tony: fuck you Romanoff

Clint: ten bucks says she’s smirking rn

Buck: ughhh

Bruce: I feel exactly the same way

Buck: no you don’t. I spent up until 6 am doing that English essay I forgot about

Tony: oof

Bucky: I will physically be running on caffeine this morning so be ready

He took a look around the messy room before deciding he would clean it another day and raised himself onto his feet before making sure Riley was still on the single bed asleep. He made his way to the tiny kitchen that held a mini-fridge, microwave, kettle and an oven with two counters on one side to make himself a cup of coffee that he was depending on if he had to spend an hour of his day running around in sweaty gear and a fake gun while making sure his daughter didn’t run away to get some sort of snack.

“Fuck” he mumbled as the loud whirring of the kettle started, sure to wake Riley up. “I’m tired” he heard a voice groan behind him, making the man whirl around, instantly making eye contact with his daughter. Sighing out of relief and returning back to the drink he was previously making. “So am I doll, yet you can’t have coffee”

He made her go get dressed and brush her teeth while he had a mental breakdown over what he was going to do about the paper he didn’t manage to finish before he fell asleep last night.

“Dad,” Bucky looked up to find Riley once again dressed in a pair of Joggers and a baggy T-shirt that she’d dragged out of the very few clean clothes in her draw “someone’s messaging your laptop”

She struggled to hold up the open device that showed multiple emails from one of his professors questioning his performance in class for the recent weeks. He inwardly cursed and took the laptop from her to begin emailing her back, choosing to ignore the insults she had thrown at him and his daughter in the middle of it.

“She is so full of-“ he stopped halfway through the sentence, noticing that Riley was sat next to him, quietly playing a YouTube video on his phone. “Whatcha watching Ri’?” He asked, his attention still focusing on trying to be professional in the email back. “c- c-“ she struggled to pronounce the word so she passed it to him.

“Commentary channels?” The man asked with a laugh, thinking about how most parents wouldn’t even let their 4 child near a video like that but yet again he wasn’t like most parents. He was 20 and had to do this alone.

“Oh yeah”

“Come on munchkin, we gotta get to first period before we’re late” he told her and grabbed his backpack to quickly shove his college things in before glancing at the digital clock on his phone and scooping Riley up so they could get there quicker.

Halfway through the panicked running across campus, the small girl decided she needed a nap and fell asleep against his shoulder, making Natalia laugh as they passed.

As soon as he arrived in the classroom he knew it was a bad idea when 11 pair of eyes fell to his, heavily panting and holding an asleep 4-year-old.

“Sir he’s late” a girl, younger than him moaned to the teacher who was now shrugging his shoulders “I don’t care”

“But professor, why’d he bring the baby?”

Bucky had enough of everyone staring at him, he readjusted the bag on his back before making his way to the back of the class, sitting in an empty seat in between Sam and Tony and placed Riley on his lap.

“That’s a good question Jaimee, Barnes?”

“Couldn’t find anyone to look after her professor” he mumbled in response, making sure to be loud enough to hear. “No babysitter?”

“Can’t afford it sir”

He didn’t once make eye contact with anyone in the room, instead putting his attention on the books that he was bringing out of his bag. “You alright man?” Tony whispered across the desk and flicked a pen at him, “Oi” Bucky hissed as the metal came in contact with the side of his head making Sam laugh loudly at him.

“Dad,” a mumble was heard quietly, making the older man look at his daughter, eyes that were previously closed were now looking up at his wide with pleading “I’m hungry”

If he was anywhere else in the world he would have sworn loudly, but right now he was in a class with 10 other students and his daughter. “Okay baby, but you're gonna have to wait for a while, we’re in my class but I’ll get you something after okay?”

She nodded and rested her hair back against his chest, making him smile slightly as he went back to taking notes of the class. “I’ve got skittles,” Sam held out the family-sized packet of sugary sweets making Riley do grabby hands towards it. Without asking Sam gave her it, earning a goofy smile from the girl. “Thank you dude but she’s literally gonna get the biggest sugar rush possible now”

“Aha, can’t wait to see that”

By halfway through the period Riley was already rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, on the spot next to Bucky’s chair, his hand holding hers to make sure she didn’t run up to the front and distract everyone. “Dad, are you going to work tonight?”

“Yeah munchkin, not for long though, you can stay with Stevie. How about that?”

“Yeah, m’kay”

Suddenly the professor spoke up, directing his attention to Bucky “Barnes, the symbol Sb stands for stibium or stibnite. What is the modern name of this element?”

“That doesn’t sound like English dad” Riley loudly whispered to him, making the class laugh, “and what do you think the answer is?”

The girl pondered for a second and looked at her dad with seriousness drawn upon her features “...tell me,”

“Laser in the house!” Clint exclaimed in excitement once everyone had found their way to the front of campus where they’d agreed to meet.

“I like lasers,” Riley gushed while smiling brightly making most of the young adults chuckle, Loki however, did not. “Why did you have to bring me?” The man grumbled, sending a death glare towards his brother.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

“Riley no-“

“Did you go through childhood trauma to endure this?”

“Ri’ you can’t ask-“

“Why is there a child?” Loki asked as if he had only just noticed she was there. “She is Barnes’ daughter brother” Thor said and gently patted her head, making her scowl.

“You have a daughter?”

“I’ve had her for 4 years dude”

“Oh”

Steve grabbed his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time “guys we’ve gotta be there in half an hour we better get goin’”

“Alright Rogers, you really do like to keep track of time don’t you?” Tony asked and rolled his eyes making Nat nudge him in the ribs. “Tony, I’m not that old”

“You're 21, everyone else is 20 punk” Bucky teased him but stopped when he sent him a death glare. “Erm, I’m not 20.” The young girl pointed out while everyone else started making their way to the entertainment place. “Smart girl Ri’”

“Wait, do we need to decide the teams?” Bruce asked everyone once Bucky and Riley had caught up with the rest. “Ooooh,” Clint exclaimed with wide eyes “dibs on Natasha! She’s got good aim.”

“I’m gonna stick with you. Power team” Bucky whispered down to the stupidly smiling girl as she nodded furiously. By the time everyone had chosen their teammates and managed to agree, the group had arrived. “This’ll be great” Bruce sighed once they’d caught sight of the room of light-up vests with attached laser guns.

“Rules,” a middle-aged man who looked like he’d given up on life, walked into the room with a clipboard in hand “No Running, No Physical Contact, Hold Laser with Both Hands, No Climbing, Players must be careful when manoeuvring around interior arena walls, Please let us know if any of your guests suffer from the following: Asthma, epilepsy or suffer from seizures caused by fog or strobe lights.”

Everyone was quiet for a second before Steve quietly spoke up with a blush “I have asthma, sir.”

The worker took a pause and pondered for a moment, as though this had never happened in his whole 68 years of working there, “just… don’t start a fire alright?”

They all nodded in agreement, just happy that he’d been let in, and began to enter the massive room where the game was about to take place. “Right, so, let’s not rugby tackle people like you did last time,” Steve said and mostly directed it to Thor who smiled sheepishly “cause- err, there’s a kid, yeah, Riley, that’s it”

Bucky chuckled and picked up the fake laser gun as the lights began to darken, “let’s get this party started”

As soon as the words left his mouth, chaos ensured, young adults setting off running to find a place to set-up camp. As he wanted to be fast, Bucky quickly picked up Riley and began to run towards a pillar so he could hide behind it, so he’s able to get a good view of people.

“How does it work?” Riley whispered from the spot of her back pressed against his chest so she could also see and indicated towards the gun. “Gotta put your finger on the trigger” he instructed and took ahold of her index finger and brought it over to the weapon, placing the rest of her hand on the handle while her other one held the underneath of the top part, trying not to drop it.

The whole room was silent for a good 5 minutes before Bucky decided to make a move, taking hold of the collar of her jacket to gently pull her up with him. Not holding Riley’s hand as she would have ended up dropping the laser gun if she didn’t have two hands on it.

The two of them scouted out the place trying to be quiet so they didn’t get caught. Suddenly, making them jump, a loud zapping sounded in the distance, indicating that someone had found an enemy. He began to run away from the sound, after making sure his daughter was following and attempting to find somewhere to hide again but this time he didn’t find a deserted place.

“Aha!” Nat yelled and jumped out from behind a pillar while aiming the laser at Bucky’s chest. His panicked yelling and screaming filled the air as he made a run for it, completely forgetting about his teammate left behind and the rule “no running”. Suddenly, before he could brace himself his body went flying, his foot getting stuck on a stray shoe that belonged to Thor. At the same time Steve had jumped out, meaning to get the man in the chest, but instead Bucky had landed on him, using him to muffle the landing, earning an “ow man...” in return.

Bucky wanted to move, he really did, but he just couldn’t. He was in a trance, his and Steve’s baby blue eyes made eye contact, without knowing what he was doing, Steve’s body involuntarily leant up: closer to the younger man. His lips never looked more inviting, but all of a sudden a yell broke out in the room.

“Dad! Help! Nat nearly got me!”

The father scrambled up off the floor, his mind going a million miles an hour about what just happened and why it was wrong. He was his best friend. He should only see him as a friend.

Without meaning to, he ran away from him, not bothering to even spare Steve a second glance in search of his daughter, who was now cowered in one of the room's corners, trying not to get shot. Bucky chuckled slightly at the tactic and crossed the room, luckily not being noticed by Tony and Nat who were having a shoot off at each other from their opposite ends in the room.

“Nat nearly got you Ri’?”

“M’ yeah and you weren’t there.”

Guilt coursed through the mans veins as he remembered that he’d left her, but before his mind could go wondering to the events after it, he stopped himself, “sorry munchkin”

“Is’ okay, just don’t do it again dad”

He silently laughed at the sincerity in her voice and grabbed her hand to lead her away from the battle scene so they could get somebody else in the laser tag game. In quiet discussions they settled on Bruce, the one who was most likely to not be paying attention, and if he was it would still be easy to take aim without him seeing.

“Come on Ri, we got this.”

@donutloverxo @xolovegrace @rooskaya-yelena @deephideoutmilkshake @kidney9-9 @marvel-ous-hobbit @snarky--starky @rae-is-typing @stargazingfangirl18 @canadianhufflepuffavenger @herecomesthewriterwitch @every-marveler-ever

#bucky x oc!daughter #bucky x oc #bucky x daughter #Avengers college AU #college au #bucky barnes x daughter #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes x oc

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xianglingslesbian · 3 years

Note

oh I'll give u a character alright: Izuki, Kiyoshi, Riko and Aomine <333 technically that's four, but what goes around comes around (I'll keep this circle of love goin forever buddy)

VICCCC ily my man <33 thank u!!! aight putting this under a cut bc it got long

Izuki

Why I like them: izuki’s just overall so amazing! he inspires me to give my best in the stuff i do, and although it sounds a bit silly i try to be a person that he’d be proud of. his puns are hilarious and well-thought-out (as a person who loves words and word jokes, i’m naturally drawn to him lol). they’re also a way to take the heat off the team, he’s so hardworking and never views obstacles as obstacles, rather as hills he must climb to find newer skies. he’s also rather clever and employs his brains to great effect when his body fails him! izuki embodies the meaning of ‘eagle’ in the truest sense - waiting to strike when the time is right and not failing when it is.

Why I don’t: *sweats* can’t really think of a reason i don’t like izuki, at all??? i guess he can overwork himself a lot and tends to keep his true emotions hidden which could lead to misunderstandings between friends (although this is totally headcanon territory lol)... i also didn’t like the ableist comment he passed on hayama (“i’m just glad you weren’t smarter than me”). but i think he can (and will!) grow from that kind of stuff, he is that kind of person so yeah no particular reason for me to dislike him at all

Favorite episode (scene if movie): how dare you make me pick s3 e8 izuki vs kasamatsu, hands down. i know its like cliche or whatever but that moment just told me so much about izuki as a character? he’s willing to do what it takes to win, he’s adaptable and dependable and he doesn’t let shit get him down ever. it’s gorgeous

Favorite season/movie: s3, he got some fantastic moments in there!! although i will say i loved the spotlighting he got in s1 in the seihō match

Favorite line: “Fear isn't a bad thing. There are some things that can only be done by cowards.” this is first of all such a nice thing to say. ‘fear is not bad’ is just... so fucking wise? keep in mind that this boy is 17, i’ve met 30 year olds who are less mature. secondly it feels like izu’s speaking from experience?? like he has a lot to be scared of, i’m sure. particularly of falling behind and being a burden to his teammates. but it’s that ‘cowardice’ that drives him to practice so so hard. that visceral terror of weighing on seirin is what pushes izuki beyond his limits - which is why here he can empathise with furi’s fear, and knows how best to employ it.

Favorite outfit: look i hate last game w/ a passion but that lil tie/shirt/hoodie thing he had going? that was literally so cute. izuki in general has a p great fashion sense but his last game outfit takes the cake <3

OTP: hyuuizu oh my god i could talk for years about them but since this post is gonna be very long i’ll refrain. just. they are perfect they are fucking perfect

Brotp: kiyoizu!! kiyoshi is izuki’s biggest enabler and i love that for him <3

Head Canon: izuki can be very very passive aggressive when he’s angry at someone/sad and gets cold and withdrawn. it’s not fun to experience but tbh if you upset him you probably deserve it

Unpopular opinion: izuki should’ve been naturally better in canon. it’s not fair to shaft him and give the ‘trier’ thing off to himuro. that being said i am p happy with who he is as a person

A wish: i want to know how izuki felt after middle school! izuki’s and riko’s backstory focuses so much on hyuuga its dumb >:( he also would’ve been demoralised but he didn’t quit bball and i would like to know his thought process!

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: i. uh. i guess izu quitting basketball. because i genuinely cannot see that happening. it brings him so much joy, he should never stop cold turkey. i can imagine old man izuki hobbling about a court giving little kids pointers and making them laugh T-T

5 words to best describe them: “big brain caffeine-powered clown baby”

My nickname for them: babyzuki/izu/shunshun

Kiyoshi

Why I like them: lots of reasons! kiyoshi is an admirable person. he’s strong, yet friendly and gentle, and he loves his team above all else, which i just find beautiful. i find his manipulative side also pretty cool, bc it shows off how multifaceted he is.

Why I don’t: this is more of a fandom reason but i really dislike how kiyoshi is always said to have had the greatest impact in hyuuga’s story. he badgered and manipulated hyuuga, and while some may argue hyuuga needed that push, it only worked bc hyuuga had had time to think about shit. he’d also been given space by riko and izuki (two integral parts of his life whom the fandom looooves to sideline for uwu kiyo//hyuu).

Favorite episode (scene if movie): yousen match (can’t pick the episodes)! i loved the backstory we got for kiyo vs mura and i loved how kiyoshi was willing to smile and play but also refused to lose. he truly stole the show despite kagami being the one to finally take down murasakibara, it was gorgeous <3

Favorite season/movie: s2 for sure. kiyoshi wasn’t allowed to shine much after yousen imo - all the focus was on hyuuga kagami and kuroko, and to a lesser extent izuki. not complaining, but yeah

Favorite line: “Let’s go have some fun.” i know it’s kinda cliche but i do love how kiyoshi’s always thinking about playing a good game and enjoying basketball. he wants to play because he loves it and as someone who loves a sport as much as kiyoshi loves b-ball, that love is so poignant and tender

Favorite outfit: practice clothes! kiyoshi looks great in pink <3

OTP: kiyohana. hateshipping amirite ;)

Brotp: kiyohyuu! i love them as friends so so much <3

Head Canon: kiyoshi is half-iranian on his mother’s side and is muslim. i won’t say too much because i am not muslim myself, i need to do more research into this but i’ve had this headcanon for quite a while now!

Unpopular opinion: he should be bullied more for the fact that his canon power is having yaoi hands

A wish: kiyo finds something he loves as much as b-ball. he can’t canonically play at this level again, so if he found another sport/competition/anything, it’d be amazing

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he should never become demoralised. kiyoshi at heart is a dreamer, so let him dream, let him look towards tomorrow with a smile always

5 words to best describe them: “useless dreamy dumbass cheerleader clown”

My nickname for them: kiyoyo, bc my feelings about him have yo-yoed a lot lmao

Riko

Why I like them: im a lesbian, next. /j i love her because she’s so tenacious and driven. yet she’s also kind and gentle, and never loses her humanity. she cares, and she cares hard. she’s so fucking smart too like... coaching a hs basketball team at 17 against players of NBA calibre and making them win? i could never. seirin without riko is nothing.

Why I don’t: i dont like the constant slapstick of her beating up her boys. also, i dislike how the narrative forces her to act ‘feminine’ and then has the boys think of it as nothing. like first of all if someone like her offered me a kiss i would so take 100, and secondly... why is a girl’s worth so tied to her femininity? it’s awful

Favorite episode (scene if movie): her sending in furi vs kaijō, early in s3. it was an exceedingly smart move that could have only come from her knowing her players’ strengths and weaknesses intimately, and being a brilliant coach. just amazing <3

Favorite season/movie: all of them! riko has some amazing moments each season, so i can’t really pick

Favorite line: “Humans grow. Don't act like you understand when you don't even realize that!” here, riko knows and knows well that she is in her element. momoi might have the data, but riko understands adaptability and knows how to predict stuff. in that way, one can draw parallels between takao vs izuki and momoi vs riko: takao and momoi are recon experts, whereas riko and izuki are strategists. momoi uses raw data; riko manipulates the data to her advantage

Favorite outfit: idk if this is exactly an outfit but her glasses are so cute oh my gosh. (i’d kill to see her in a leather jacket tho)

OTP: rikomomo!!! i’m 100% sure that momoi’s fixation w/riko’s boobs is just... repressed lesbian sentiments. also sports girlfriends gimme

Brotp: hyuuizuriko. i hc that hyuuizu were tgt since elementary school and riko joined them in middle school so... childhood friends feels!

Head Canon: riko knows how to shoot a gun. her father owns one so it makes sense

Unpopular opinion: riko does not need to have bigger boobs in fanart. please stop sexualising a 17 year old girl

A wish: white suit riko please

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: her ever leaving behind sports in any way shape or form. it’s her thing. in the same vein, she should never have to change herself or become more traditionally feminine to be ‘appealing’

5 words to best describe them: perfect perfect perfect perfect perfect

My nickname for them: ai/riri

Aomine

Why I like them: aomine is just a pure, hurting young man that deserves help. he’s passionate, and his fire died down out of no fault of his own. that fire’s reignition through kagami is one of my favorite scenes <3

Why I don’t: he’s perverted as hell and i dislike that. it plays into the ‘brutish dark-skinned pervert’ stereotype which is yikes. also i thought we were done with pervs in anime

Favorite episode (scene if movie): s2 seirin v touou when kagami enters the zone!! aomine’s finally happy and it’s so amazing to watch <3

Favorite season/movie: s2, he finally got happiness and peace of mind

Favorite line: “You’re the best!” there’s just so much of pure joy in this line. he’s so so beside himself that he finally has someone he won’t destroy. kagami sees aomine the person, and that person is so happy, it’s beautiful

Favorite outfit: the leather jacket from the finale lmaooo he looked so cute

OTP: AOKAGA BABY i could write an essay tbh

Brotp: aomomo!! theyre such good friends and bi/lesbian solidarity too!

Head Canon: aomine cannot dance. he has stepped on kagami’s feet multiple times. he has also attempted to twerk when drunk. kuroko recorded the whole thing and uses it as blackmail in case the puppy eyes and “but aomine-kun you didn’t fist bump me back” don’t work

Unpopular opinion: more a fandom thing, but you all need to stop making aomine the aggressive/possessive top/‘seme’. it’s racist as fuck

A wish: aomine goes pro. it’ll be amazing for him, a huge challenge and kagami will be there too so its a win-win ;)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen: he quits again/b-ball loses its allure. aomine at heart is someone who needs passion to drive him so i just want that passion to always burn bright within him

5 words to best describe them: “bastard baby needs a hug”

My nickname for them: dai-chan, momoi rubbed off on me

#izuki #kiyoshi #riko #aomine #vee #knb #ceru babbles #answered #omg i went OFF

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imagines-mha · 5 years

Text

How class 1-B are in the mornings

Monoma

Have u ever seen something so tired in ur life

He’s 100% that annoying person who REFUSES to get up no matter how many times you shout at him

Takes him 39 years to actually get out of bed and he’s hellbent until he gets some form of breakfast (thank u tetsutetsu for being the typical morning provider)

Like fr he hates just about everyone

He’s the reason most of the morning dramas break out in the class. He argues with EVERYONE and it causes so many fuckin arguments there’s at least one every morning some1 restrain him

Tetsutetsu

Typical “RISE AND SHINE ITS A LOVELY MORNING WHO WANTS BREAKFAST????” bitch in the house

He’ll wake up exactly on his alarm, hopping out of his bed as awake as he’s ever been he’s so excited everyone plz give him a kiss

Once he’s up he’s up and he’s the biggest morning person in the house like he brings SO MUCH joy

It annoys the sleepy squad™️ but on the plus side he offers to make breakfast for everyone cus he’s always up so early so who rlly wins???

Awase

Closeted member of the sleepysquad™️

sleeps until he HAS to get up lmao he ain’t one of those “i’ll get up early to get breakfast and get prepared for the day!!” NAW he’s more like “don’t even enter my room til 10 minutes before class starts”

If you DO enter his room earlier than allowed he will end you. Like it’s one of the few times he gets really REALLY angry at people and u don’t wanna see him angry cus he can be a demon

He pretends he’s up when his alarm rings, but he’ll sit at breakfast letting his eyes shut every few minutes and it’s so easy to see how tired he is

Rin

He’s grumpy when he wakes up

If monoma or ANYONE even opens their mouth he glares so hard like if looks could kill lmao

Can’t eat breakfast in the mornings. Thinks anyone who does has deeply rooted issues

Literally. Don’t even breathe in his direction bro. It’s for ur own good

He and awase make the worst duo in the mornings to be around they can be so SASSY

Tsuburaba

Either the happiest person alive or the sleepiest. Fr it’s 50/50

One morning he’ll wake up with a start and greet everyone and get off to a happy, bouncy beginning to his day

Other mornings he can and will fall asleep in a bowl of cereal

He’s also the cutest though like he has that messy hair aesthetic and he’s literally a 4 year old in need of care when he’s sleepy

His mood depends on whether he’s showered the night before or not

Kaibara

SLEEPY SQUAD LEADER

He wakes up extremely tired: his hair a mess, pyjamas all ruffled, and he yawns 3 times per minute

Does he care though? No

Like fr an avalanche could hit the building and he still wouldn’t react heS SO SLOW

It takes him like 2 hours to wake up properly but the class find it adorable cus he has this croaky voice when he’s tired and they all LOVE IT

Honenuki

He wakes up every morning exactly 4 minutes before his alarm. He doesn’t know how to fix it

He’s learned to reap the benefits though cus these four minutes are his time™️ to get his life together for the day

He 100% sleepwalks

He’s that weirdo who does stretches in the mornings and drinks water to “fully energize himself”

In a good mood most mornings- just like he usually is tbh like they don’t affect him much

Kuroiro

Does he,,,, does he sleep?

Honenuki went into his room one night to grab a charger and found him just,,,sitting there

He doesn’t like to talk about that experience

Noone really knows what happens once lights go out tbh

He does sleep though. If you look closely in the mornings his hair’s a teeny bit more disshevelled and his voice is slightly more gruff but it takes a genius to figure it out

Komori

She is literally the defiance of logic in the mornings

10pm will hit and she’ll be snoring on the sofa, then after her 9 HOUR SLEEP she’ll wake up for school, more tired than anyone in the class

Sleepysquad queen™️

She’s dangerous whenever she’s tired like i mean she needs constant assistance cus my girl be walking into walls n shit

She just makes confused noises til class starts

Kendo

She’s tired but mom gotta work so she forgets abt it 😤

She’s the resident alarm clock of the dorms

As in she comes and wakes up the idiots who hit snooze too many times (*cough* moNOMA *cough*)

A little moody in the mornings, and it’s not a rare sight to see her arguing with a grumpy monoma or awase

Pls be kind to her in the mornings she tries so hard.

Pony

ADORABLE SLEEPY ANGEL

shes the only one monoma can stand in the mornings cus you just CANT be mean to her

Always has her hair in plaits to make it wavy and wears matching pyjamas every night

She literally is an angel she’ll wake up with a croaky “good morning everyone” and start her day with smiles and happy thoughts

Definitely a morning person she cheers everyone up

Ibara

She gets up at 5:45am every single morning to meditate and do yoga

Always the first one up

She’ll come outside the dorms and watch the sunrise in the summer with a cup of tea and her own company- if this doesn’t happen she goes from angel to demon in minutes

When everyone wakes up she’s already dressed and has already eaten and they’re lowkey jealous of her time management

Reiko

Don’t look at her in the mornings she’s a mess

Ask her a question and she’ll stare blankly at you until you go away there’s no hope for conversation sorry bro 😔👊🏻

She just sits on her phone and tries to absorb as much caffeine as possible before going to school like she litrally gives 0 fucks u could feed her paper in the mornings and she wouldn’t second guess it

Kodai

She’s the most normal when she wakes up. Not too happy not too grumpy just 👌🏻

Will help tetsutetsu make breakfast cus she’s one of the only ones who can stand his energy

She’s the go to gal for homework in the mornings. If you need to copy some shit up or finish off smth her schoolbags always open to everyone and the answers are always right

She’s the only one everyone can collectively stand in the mornings

Tokage

How does she have so much energy??? What the fuck

Wakes up ready to run a marathon

Her eyes fr snap open at 7:00am and she’s like “LETS GOOOOOOO MORNING TIME YEE HAW!!!!”

Uses her quirk to prank people in the mornings and it makes the morning clique™️ giggle

As opposed, it makes the sleepy squad™️ so fucking angry but it IS funny to be fair

Manga

U know those cute ZZZZZZZ emoji things that appear on his speech bubble whenever he’s sleepy

They stay there til midday

He just drags himself around every morning and bondo ends up carrying him HES SO TIRED

He stays up all night drawing and dancing around his room like it’s 4AM and he’s bouncing on his bed to the fuckin ghostbusters soundtrack he’s a dork

Bondo

Another angel in the mornings

If it weren’t for him fukidashi would have been dead due to tiredness

Makes all his sleepy friends their coffee and gets them ready for school

Hes a mom

He sleeps a good 10 hours a night tho like damn he does get his beauty sleep

He’ll help out as much as possible and everyone just loves to be around him

Shishida

He’s a CONFUSED OLD MAN

“Ah,,,,,kendo,,,,have you by any chance seen my glasses?”

He asks shit like this every morning and every morning they’re in the EXACT same place god someone help him pls

He sleepwalks and sleeptalks and it’s TERRIFYING because from a distance he looks so scary

Don’t get into a conversation with him in the mornings he’ll talk for hours on end

Shoda

He’s another sleepy boy

He doesn’t have an ounce of malice in him, but he’s also the most disorientated

He’s dropped and smashed so many cups on the floor from just being too tired vlad’s gonna kill him one day

He actually doesn’t give a fuck in the mornings

You could tell him the house is on fire and he’d still try and roll back over to get that extra 5 minutes lmao

Kamakiri

Do u want 2 die in the mornings? No? Ok just don’t look at him and you’ll be fine

The definition of “if looks could kill”

He doesn’t want to be awake. He doesn’t want to go to school. He wants to be in bed, dreaming abt nice leaves or some shit idk what do preying mantises dream abt??

He’s threatened monoma with a knife before and vlad had to pull them apart it was scary as heck but he regets nothing

#my hero academia #class 1 b #class 1b headcanons #mha headcanons #my hero academia imagines #monoma neito #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu #kendo itsuka #awase yousetsu #pony tsunotori

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junetuesday · 5 years

Text

sweetener - [three]

The One At The Library

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader - uni AU

Word Count: 5170 ish

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, fluff, caffeine

A/N: sorry for the delay on this i am *jean ralphio voice* The Worst. I thiiiink this chapter should make up for it tho heheheh lemme know what you think!

Updates Fridays at 11pm BST

Tonight was one of those nights where it just wasn't your night. You stood in the SU toilets waiting for Liv, amid girls taking selfies in the mirrors and attempting to stick false eyelashes back on each other though they could hardly see. Another night, you might have been one of them, gleefully exclaiming "thanks, it's Missguided!" in response to compliments on your dress. Not tonight though.

There wasn't anything wrong per se - Madison was away visiting her boyfriend so it was just you and Liv with some of her friends from her course. They were nice, of course, and you liked them, but they weren't your friends so you didn't feel quite as at ease as you might have. Your pre-night out disco-nap had run on a bit longer than you had intended so you didn't have a lot of time to get ready, plus you thought you had alcohol in when you didn't, so all you had was a glass of warm, somewhat vinegary white wine while you got ready. You managed to pilfer another glass off someone at predrinks, and you'd bought a double when you arrived at the union, but all in all you were relatively sober compared to everyone else, and you weren't feeling particularly confident in your appearance, and honestly, you were bored.

You tapped through Instagram stories as you waited for Liv, neither drunken selfies nor dog photos nor influencers unboxing PR packages holding your attention for long. Your thumb hit the right hand side of the screen almost as soon as each new image came up, switching to the next one well before the full 15 seconds was up. Until this one.

A few nights prior, you, Liv, and Mads had gone on a social media binge after Liv had discovered that you and Harrison followed each other on Instagram and you hadn't told her (?!) - which had lead you to Tom's account. Madison had pressed follow for you in the end, and within ten minutes he'd followed you back. You still hadn't had the confidence to interact with him in any way, or text him for that matter, but it was a start. He'd posted a couple of stories since then, and to say you were glad that Instagram didn't show how many times someone has viewed your story would be an understatement. If it did...yikes. They weren't even all that interesting, but seeing little snippets of his life was nice, it almost made you feel like you knew him a little more. You didn't, of course, all you actually knew was that he went to the gym after work yesterday (from the picture of a protein shake with an 8:49pm timestamp with the caption "post-work gym sesh ☑") and that he'd been working on an essay this afternoon (from the screenshot of a Spotify playlist called Chill Lofi Study Beats with the caption "essay soundtrack 👌" and a location tag that placed him in the library).

And according to this post, he was still there - his laptop open with a notepad next to it, a couple of books and pens scattered across the desk, posted five minutes ago. You tapped through to the next picture, and all you could think was 'oh no'. This one was a selfie, his grumpy expression half covered by his fingers and his chin resting on his palm. His hair was a fluffy mess atop his head, white earphones in both ears and the collar of a black pullover hoodie just visible in the bottom of the frame. You didn't even realise you'd been looking at it that long until the screen skipped to the next story, and you didn't think you'd ever tapped the left side of your screen so fast. Pressing and holding on the screen to stop it timing out, you managed to actually read the caption this time - "send help and coffee 😧" - and maybe those three drinks had had more of an effect on you than you thought, because you were actually kind of considering replying, your thumb swiping up and down on the screen to bring up and hide the 'reply to story' options over and over. No, that's a stupid idea -- what would you even say?

Looking up as though one of the inhabitants of the girl's bathroom would have the answer, you spotted Liv coming out of a cubicle. She had definitely caught up with her friends at predrinks more than you had, and was bopping along to the music echoing in from the adjacent dancefloor as she washed her hands. She'd be badgering you to go get another drink, you knew, or go and dance, or something of that nature that didn't involve you sitting down and pondering potential social media interactions. You looked from her to your phone and back again, before deciding to throw caution to the wind and just say fuck it.

Vanilla latte sound good?

Closing the app and locking your phone as soon as you hit reply, you shoved your phone into your bag, as though if you didn't look at it then it wouldn't matter if Tom replied or not. Oh God, what if he doesn't reply? -- what if he does reply? What if--

"Let's get SHOTS!"

With a groan and a playful roll of your eyes you let Liv pull you back out to the bar, rejoining her friends. You ordered a shot of apple Sourz - which, yes, is a cop out shot, but you didn't particularly care to go for the sambuca shots that were lining up on the counter at Liv's request. Even if you weren't having one, though, it still made for a fun Instagram story - because even if you're not having fun it's important to make sure it looks like you are online, right? That was the only reason you took your phone back out of your bag, no other reason. You didn't even look at your notifications, not even a glance at that little red (1) in the top right hand corner, and you definitely didn't open it immediately after posting your story. No, you waited at least ten seconds while everyone took their shots, then you opened it.

That would be ideal🙏🏻

Hm. Liv tugged on your wrist again, pulling you towards a clubroom. Reluctantly, you followed, your group huddled loosely in a circle on the dancefloor. You moved your body to the beat, but your mind was less on the music and more on your phone, clutched tightly in your hand.

You knew he meant coffee, you knew it was a joke, but...Tom had been calling you Vanilla Latte until recently... But no. That's stupid, it's gone midnight and he's still studying, he definitely was just talking about coffee, he didn't mean, well, you. But still...

You glanced down at your phone, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible (though no one was watching, and if they were they wouldn't care, like, at all), and let out an involuntary squeak at the notification on the screen.

tomholland1996 replied to your story:

or a couple of those haha 😂

Not to read too much into things but... double message? You bit the corner of your lip to try and stop yourself from smiling as you unlocked your phone and tapped out a reply.

I bet haha

Your thumb hovered over the 'send' button, hesitating. What a shit reply - but what else do you say?

Tom is typing...

Oh shit. You deleted your message, but as soon as you did so he stopped typing too. Ugh. You waited a moment, and sure enough:

Tom is typing...

Anyway enjoy your night x

You almost scoffed, looking up and taking stock of your surroundings, that weird out of place feeling you get when you're the only sober(ish) one in a room of drunk people creeping over you. The music was too loud and too bassy, the lights were too flashy, everyone was bumping into you, plus your feet hurt and you were tired and you felt about fifty years older than your nineteen years.

🤷 su's actually shit tonight tbf

You tried to ignore the fact that 'seen' popped up under your message instantly.

Really? Sure its better than the library

Hm. Another elbow collided with your spine, and you decided then you were done with tonight.

Debatable

You know when youre just not feelin it?

You were barely even pretending to move to the music now, just nodding your head as your attention remained on your phone. It seemed to be getting more and more crowded anyway, so you hardly had any room to move even if you wanted to.

Fair

Think i'd just rather be doing anything other than writing this essay

Idk if id go so far as to say id rather be writing an essay but it'd defo rather be in bed 😴👵

Oh yeah thatd be my preferred choice too but i guess i'll just have to make do with coffee instead of sleep

Why dont you just go home tho?

That was a good point, you could go home. You didn't think Liv would mind, she was having fun and her friends lived close enough that sharing a cab home with them wouldn't be an issue. The only problem was, you didn't really want to go home - what you wanted to do was go and hang out with Tom. Not while he was working, or for five minutes when you bumped into him in the kitchen, but just...because. You nibbled at your bottom lip as you considered your options, flashing a smile-and-nod at Liv when she looked over at you and you lipread her shouting 'you okay?' at you. The library was just across the car park in the center of the campus, you could just pop in and say hello... and the coffee from the Lavazza branded machine downstairs in the SU was better than the weird generic one in the library.

I actually might you know

You typed out the next message really fast, taking a deep breath in before pressing send.

Could bring you a coffee on my way past?

Eyes trained on the screen, you held your breath as Tom is typing... popped up, disappeared, reappeared, then disappeared again.

You would be saving my life

Aaaand exhale.

Only seems fair

You'd almost forgotten where you were, if it weren't for the people jostling you around and the balls of your feet screaming in pain from your heels.

Haha yeah i think you probably owe me a latte or 7

Your heart was beating in your chest, and this was definitely how you saw your night going when you gulped down that glass of tepid chardonnay, but you couldn't say you were mad about it.

Exactly

So a latte then yeah?

Wait youre actually gonna ditch a night out and bring me a coffee?

Yep, that's exactly what you're doing.

Apparently so

Then yes a latte pls

Coming right up (that's what baristas say right?)

God how fucking cringe --

I think so idk im not a very good one

Youre ok

cheers

Weaving your way away from the group, you mimed taking a drink at Liv when she grabbed your arm as you passed her. You weren't really lying, you were going to get a drink, it was just going to be a caffeinated one instead of an alcoholic one. You couldn't be bothered explaining that to her right now, though, and she was already turning back to her friends and taking one of their faces in her hands to yell lyrics at them, so you didn't feel too bad about leaving her.

Your feet hurt a little less (only a little though) as you made your way down the stairs, and you only got a few weird looks as you got two lattes from the coffee machine. You got rather more weird looks, however, when you walked into the library. There was hardly anyone there at this time, just a handful of zombie-like students dotted around and a couple of security staff at the door keeping an eye on things, but every single one of them looked at you at least once as you meandered over to where Tom had told you he'd be. You couldn't really blame them though, it was gone midnight and there you were, clip-clopping through the university library in absurd heels and a dress that showed rather more of your skin than you would normally have exposed in that setting. You felt a little self-conscious, but with a cup of coffee in each hand you couldn't pull it down, so you had to make do with taking short, shuffling steps to try and minimise how far up your thighs the fabric would ride as you walked.

Just as he'd said, you found Tom at a table in the group study area. Books, balled up sheets of paper, pens and empty drinks cans littered the desk, looking rather more disorderly than his Instagram story had depicted. He hadn't seen you yet, and he looked to be deep in thought. Hunched over his laptop, the glow of the screen reflected in his glasses, his fingers were spread out across the keyboard as though he was about to start typing. In the time it took you to walk over, however, he didn't press a single key, and when you set one of the cups down beside him he jumped slightly, taking a sharp breath in like you'd startled him. Less 'deep in thought' and more 'in a deep trance', perhaps.

Tom groaned when you giggled, pulling his earphones from his ears and blinking rapidly to try and reawaken his eyes.

"You're a lifesaver, thank you."

He gave you a small smile as he reached for his coffee, his face tired but eyes still bright as he looked up at you. You could feel his gaze scanning over your body, making you feel a different kind of self-conscious - the kind that made you smooth out your dress to sit nicely across your thighs now that you had a free hand, rather than tugging it down as far as it would go like you wanted to when you walked in.

"No worries."

Hovering awkwardly beside the desk, it only then occurred to you that Tom probably wanted you to leave so he could get on with his essay and get out of the library as quickly as possible. He seemed to sense this train of thought from you, because he hummed something incoherent through a mouthful of coffee and scrambled to move some of his crap aside so there was space for you to sit at the table.

"Sorry--"

"Oh, um-"

You did a sort of half-laugh, stepping back out of the way to let him push papers and books aside. There were about six chairs dotted around the table, but as he'd cleared a space at the one closest to him, just around the corner of the square table, you picked that one.

"How's it going?" You took a sip of your own coffee, nodding towards the laptop between you. "-or should I not ask?"

"Ugh, don't ask." Tom groaned, leaning back and bringing his leg up so his foot rested on his chair, bent knee exposed by the rips in his faded black jeans. "S'not even due 'til next week but I thought I'd just get it done and out of the way 'cause I've got work and shit to do but..."

He trailed off, shrugging.

"Not happening?"

"Not happening."

You hummed, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You knew the feeling, no stranger to complete lack of motivation yourself. Looking around at the books scattered across the table, you realised you didn't actually know what Tom studied, but it seemed like he didn't really want to talk about uni work, so instead of asking about his degree, you said:

"I didn't know you wore glasses."

Nice nonsequiteur, good one.

"Hm? Oh, yeah," Tom took the frames off and set them down on his laptop keyboard, rubbing the inner corners of his eyes with his knuckles. "Just for computer stuff, you know?"

"Oh, cool." You looked down at your cup as you brought it up to your lips. "I like them. On - on you."

Your eyes flicked over to him as you took a sip, darting back to your cup before he could catch your eye.

"Thanks."

You just smiled, hoping the general feeling of '!!!!!!!' in your head wasn't evident on your face.

"So, SU not living up to your expectations tonight?"

Shaking your head, you set your cup down before launching into an explanation of everything that had contributed to your less-than-satisfactory night. You didn't mean to go off on one, but Tom was laughing at how exasperated you were getting about tiny inconveniences, and before you knew it, you'd been rambling for God knows how long, which lead to Tom ranting about all the annoying things he'd witnessed people doing in the library that afternoon, and before long an hour had passed and the conversation had turned, as it often does with millenials, to memes.

"Wait you haven't seen that one? It's fucking hilarious, I've got it saved on my phone so I can look at it, like, daily."

You opened your bag to take out your phone, your smile freezing on your lips as a thought crossed your mind. Unzipping the inside pocket, your fingers skipped over the contents one by one - lipgloss, lash glue, gum, tampon - until your suspicions were confirmed.

"Oh fuck."

Tom hummed a question mark in response, eyebrows raised at your sudden shift in temperament.

"I haven't got my house keys," you frowned, trying to remember the last time you saw them.

"Shit - d'you reckon you dropped them in the union?"

"Nah," You shook your head as it came back to you - you were in a rush to shove your stuff into your bag before leaving for predrinks, and you distinctly remembered thinking 'I need to grab my keys from my backpack', but then Liv asked to borrow a lipstick and you immediately forgot about your keys.

"I know where they are, they're at home. It's cool I'll just text Liv and see if she's still out or what, maybe get a cab home with her."

After tapping out a quick text to Liv, you looked back to Tom, setting your phone facedown on the table. He was looking at you questioningly, glancing between you and your phone. You blinked at him uselessly, mind drawing a blank when you attempted to remember why exactly you opened your bag in the first place.

"Uh, you were gonna show me..." he trailed off, gesturing to your phone.

Uhhh duhhhhhhhh. Jesus girl, get it together.

Re-engaging your brain, you pulled up the screenshot, hoping he couldn't feel the heat radiating off your cheeks or notice the way your fingers were trembling ever so slightly as they gripped your phone. Either he didn't or he declined to comment on it, showing you a vine compilation video on his laptop instead. You ended up burrowing deeper and deeper into a meme-rabbit-hole, shifting closer to the edge of your seat with each embarrassingly loud laugh, and for a little while you forgot about your key dilemma.

"I think-" you began, interrupted by your fifth yawn in as many minutes. "I think I need to go to bed."

"Same - hey did Liv text you back?"

"Shit. Uhh-"

You checked your notifications, and sure enough there was one from Liv, received twenty-five minutes ago.

No lmao debrief tomo xxxxxx

You didn't realise Tom was reading over your shoulder until you heard a soft 'ah' in your ear. Your eyes scanned the rest of the screen in a panic, but thankfully found no incriminating evidence of your growing interest in the boy beside you, or of Liv's in his best friend. Making a slightly strangled 'hmm' sound, you tapped the phone icon at the top of the screen.

"I'll call her and see what-"

You'd barely brought the phone to your ear before a cool voice welcomed you to O2 voice mail. You knew it all too well - Liv was notorious for letting her battery die, preferring to use that last 2% on Snapchat than saving it in case one of her housemates gets locked out.

"Bollocks."

"She alright?" Tom leaned back in his seat, concern ghosting over his tired features.

"Yeah yeah, she was with a load of her friends so they've probably gone back to one of theirs to smoke or something. She'll be fine. I'm kinda fucked, though."

A beat of silence passed while you tried to come up with a solution that didn't involve you sleeping in the library, but with Madison miles away and Liv MIA, you were coming up blank.

"You can stay at mine?"

Sorry, what? You blinked at Tom, certain you had misheard him.

"If-if you want. I could sleep on the sofa or something and you could have my room."

Yep, no, that's what he said.

"Oh, I-"

"Just, um, you know, if you can't go home-"

"Would, uh, is that okay?"

"Yeah," He nodded, a soft smile in his voice. " 'course."

You bit down gently on your bottom lip, your own smile threatening to spread across your face.

"Thanks."

Your voice came out as barely more than a whisper, a squeak really. He was still so close, your shoulders almost touching where you'd been looking down at your phone together. This felt much closer though, face to face, your eyes able to count the freckles smattered across his nose and cheeks, see the indent of a chickenpox scar near his right eyebrow, another one on the left side of his nose. You didn't dare let your vision travel any further south than the bridge of his nose, not sure of what you'd do if you looked down and saw that easy smile that he wore so well.

But then again, maybe you could just sneak a glance...

Tom cleared his throat, the sound making both of you jolt back ever so slightly into your seats.

"Um, should we-"

"Yeah, yeah-"

Silence settled over you as you gathered up Tom's stuff off the table, stopping to shove your coffee cups and all his other rubbish into a bin on the way out. By the time you got to Tom's car though, conversation had started to flow again, and he gave you free rein over the music, so the short drive passed with only mild awkwardness between you.

Tom's bedroom turned out to be behind the locked door you'd seen that first night at predrinks, the mystery room on the ground floor at the front of the house. Unsure of the social protocol in situations like this, you hovered by the door as Tom turned on the lamp on his bedside table, dumping his stuff on the floor by his desk. The lamp didn't provide too much light, most of the room still shrouded in darkness, so you focused your attention on the carpet by your feet, fibres frayed where they met the skirting board.

"Do you want Super Noodles?"

Your head jerked up, a laugh spluttering past your lips because what? But then, also, yes, yes you did want Super Noodles.

"Yeah, actually."

"D'you wanna put something on TV and I'll..." he trailed off, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen.

"Sure."

You perched on the end of Tom's bed while he fiddled with his TV and PS4 that sat atop a chest of drawers opposite you, bringing up Netflix and passing you the controller.

"D'you know how to..."

"Mmhmm."

"Cool."

You flicked the edges of the shoulder buttons with your fingers, the soft clicks the only sound beyond the hum of the TV as you looked up at Tom from the edge of his bed, nodding his head slowly as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He cleared his throat again, taking a jerky step away from you.

"Okay, uh, I'll just- yeah."

Letting out a deep breath once he'd left the room, you started to flick through the options on the screen. You eventually settled on Friends - everyone likes Friends, plus then it wasn't a whole movie or hour long episode you'd have to sit through if it got awkward. You hoped it wouldn't be awkward, things had been getting progressively less awkward between you, but this was different. You were in his room at two in the morning, sat on his bed in a rather revealing dress, more of your bare thigh in contact with the soft cotton of his sheets than you had expected when you left the house earlier that evening. That reminded you - were you going to sleep in your dress? It wasn't very comfortable so you'd really rather not, but were you going to ask him for something to wear? Were you bollocks. So, you'd resigned yourself to being uncomfortable and hoping that nothing popped out in the night when Tom returned from the kitchen, backing into the room with a bowl of noodles in each hand.

"Thanks," you gave him a shy smile as you took one of the bowls from him, the heat of the ceramic almost as hot as the flush that crept up the back of your neck when he smiled back.

"Do you want something else to wear?" Tom's eyes widened as soon as the words left his mouth, realising how they sounded. "Not that you don't look- it's just it doesn't look that comfortable, and-"

"Yes, please."

"Okay," he breathed when you cut him off, nodding. "Um..."

Setting his bowl on top of his chest of drawers, he rummaged through for something to give you. His figure was obscured by the light of the TV screen, the bright white of the Netflix logo blurring the edges of your vision. You had to blink a few times after he turned around before you could see properly again, as though you'd just looked directly into the sun.

Stop blinking so much, he's going to think you've got a twitch, or an eye infection or something.

Trying to keep your eyes open as long as possible (without looking shocked), you swapped your bowl for the t shirt and pair of blue checked pyjama bottoms he handed you.

"I'll just go, uh, get changed then."

Shutting Tom's door behind you, you darted upstairs to the bathroom. You had no idea if Harrison was in or not, but you would really rather not bump into him just then, knowing he'd be insufferable. After changing into Tom's clothes (definitely not noticing how they smelt innately comforting, fresh but still warm) you peeled off your false eyelashes, popping them into your handbag. That was about all you could do in terms of make up removal, so you just had to hope you had remembered to put on setting spray earlier and that you wouldn't wake up with panda eyes and a stained pillow case.

Tom had turned the light off and changed into a pair of joggers when you got back to his room, settled at the head of the bed atop the covers with just the glow of the TV lighting the room and reflecting off his glasses. Placing your bag and folded dress beside your heels on the floor by the door, you sat cross-legged beside him, taking the bowl he handed you with a quiet thanks. You munched your way through your noodles as the first episode played, sneaking glances at the boy beside you every now and then.

By the time the second episode started, two empty bowls were stacked on the bedside table, and you were getting sleepier and sleepier, pulling the covers up over your legs. You slipped further and further down the bed as the episode went on, your eyes growing heavier and heavier until you were almost asleep.

"I'm just gonna..." you sighed, rolling into your side and curling your legs up closer to your chest.

"I'll uh- I'll go."

The mattress dipped as Tom pushed himself up, moving to get up, but you shook your head, eyes still closed.

"Mmmno."

Tom froze, a nervous laugh stuttering from the back of his throat.

"What?"

Half-asleep, you looked up at him, sliding your hand across the mattress and under your cheek beneath the pillow.

"Stay."

You thought you heard him make a sound, but your eyes were already closing again, your mind too sleepy to comprehend anything beyond the fact that his body was warm beside yours and you didn't want him to leave. The whys and hows weren't too important just then.

The bed shifted a few more times as Tom reached for the remote to turn off the TV and set his glasses aside, letting out a low, deep breath as he lay down next to you. You were all but asleep, so you weren't sure if you imagined it, but you thought you felt his hand brush against yours as he mirrored your position, lying on his side with an arm curled up under his pillow.

Hm.

You stuck out your little finger to test, just to see - and sure enough, it bumped against his. Still half-asleep (or at least, that would be your excuse if he moved away), you lifted your finger up to lay it over his, feeling his digit flex as he hooked it around yours. That, you were pretty sure, you didn't imagine.

You really were tired, honestly so so close to being asleep, but now all you could hear was your breathing, and Tom's breathing, and the hammering of your heart in your chest, and it was all a bit much.

You opened one eye, and from the slither of light coming in around the curtains from the streetlamp outside you could just about make out one side of Tom's face - enough to know he was looking at you.

"Hi," he breathed.

"Hey."

Your eyes closed when he'd repositioned, you hadn't realised quite how close your faces were, only the width of your hands between you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you glanced between his eyes, fixed on yours, and his lips, slightly parted.

Is he getting closer??

You tried to regulate your breathing, but he was definitely getting closer, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your lips as you swallowed harshly.

"S-sorry you didn't get to finish your essay."

Tom chuckled softly, and your noses were almost touching, and suddenly his hand was gone from beside yours under the pillow, a finger hooked under your chin instead.

"It's fine."

Nudging the side of your nose with his, he tilted your face up and away from the pillow, the quiet 'oh' dying on your lips as he captured them between his own.

Oh, indeed.

⋘TWO | FOUR⋙

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