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soulwillower · 3 years

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stealing the show • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: yeah! can bill get jealous because like a guy is flirting with the reader but he tries to act non-chalant about it but like she knows so she just freaking teases him about if by flirting right back until he snaps + baseball!bill smut?? girlfriend!reader goes to see bills baseball game and maybe one of his teammates flirt w/her and he gets all jealous and possessive?? and they do it in his car and she discovers his praise kink?

warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex, praise kink, jealous bill, baseball bill, car sex, unedited!

thank u @nate-isnt-great for requesting AND helping me w it ily

[losers + reader are in college, 20+.]

3k words

♡

it's hot out.

the blistering sun seems to boil the air down near the pitch as you sit on the bleachers, leaning forward slightly as you try not to let the scorching metal burn the bare skin of your thighs. the weather was fine enough that you were able to slip on a little sundress; any other article of clothing would have just been too much to wear in the heat.

but, honestly, you'd still come down to the university ball fields in rain or shine as long as you got to see bill.

he's out there right now, standing in the dirt; tall and smirking, whispering something to the third baseman as another strike is called by the umpire. the game is a blowout, there's no doubt that your team will win with a lead of 12-7 in the last inning, so you're happy as you sip on your lemonade and watch your boyfriend finish out the inning at shortstop.

it's only ten more minutes until the teams are shaking hands, bill and his teammates jumping on each other and messing around, bringing a smile to your lips as you finally stand and relieve yourself of the burn of the hot bleachers.

as you usually do, you're leaning against the chain link fence next to the dugout for bill to come out before he meets with the other team captain and the coach to do a quick recap before leaving for the day.

he's sweaty and laughing as you traipse up to him, hands falling on his chest as you press a kiss sweetly to his lips. "y/n, thanks for coming." he whispers into your hair as you wrap your arms around his neck. he's still holding his bat bag in one arm so you pull back, shrugging, "you know i'd never miss it for the world."

he beams at that, cheeks warm, eyes squinting in the sun. “you look beautiful. you’re stealing the show, as usual.” he says with a smile. it makes you beam, butterflies fluttering in your chest.

“you’re joking, bill!” you say, swatting his chest as he pulls you into his side. “you’re the star of this team, you know it.”

shrugging he gestures out to the expanse of left field, "d'you see that hit i had? it w-was almost over." he grimaces, shaking his head in disappointment. you nearly laugh, fingers toying with the hair on the nape of his neck as you admire his features. "bill, it was a triple, and an rbi. you're ridiculous."

he sighs, "i just want to impress my baby." he teases, laughing slightly. you laugh too, kissing him again, this time his hand falling low on your back, fingers grazing the top of your ass.

you pull back when the wolf whistles are interrupted by the head coach calling bill's last name, and you wipe your lips with a grin as he shakes his head, dropping his things and turning to return to the field. you giggle as he leaves, and you lean back against the fence as you begin to wait for him, intending on driving home to his dorm with him.

"y/n!" calls a name from the dugout, and you crane your neck, hoping the voice calling you was bill's best friend on the team, stan.

instead you walk over to find oliver, the right fielder, and you smile. "hey, oliver, good job today." you say, walking towards him and sipping on the drink in your hand. he shrugs, "thanks, it wasn't anything too special." he says, bashful smile on his lips. "guess our team just has a lucky charm." he says, brow raising suggestively.

it makes you chuckle, quickly registering that the rest of the team, including stan and bill, are doing after-game maintenance, and oliver's sporting the same ice wrap that stan has on his shoulder. “you guys don’t need a lucky charm.” you counter.

you tilt your head, "forgive me, don't pitchers and catchers usually get the ice wraps?" you ask genuinely. he laughs, shaking his head, "you're cute. yeah, you're right, that's why bill has one usually. he started pitching today and stan finished, so they both get priority but the athletic trainer gave me one, thinks i hurt my elbow tendon trying to pick the guy off at third."

you let out a soft, "oh," before your eyes flicker to bill and stan. "makes sense. i hope your elbow is okay."

but you're momentarily distracted, because bill's untucked his jersey and lifted the bottom of it to wipe his face, exposing his toned abdomen and smooth skin and you feel hot, hotter than before.

you bite your lip, mind suddenly trying to recall if you had a condom in your bag today or not. you snap out of it quick as oliver hums, bringing you back to the present.

"i'm sure it'd feel better with a little kiss." he says with a smirk. you laugh lightly, annoyed with his flirting but deciding you can use this to your advantage. looking back to bill, who's finished with his field work and is starting to make his way toward you, you hum. "i don't know, stan seems like he'd be willing to give you a kiss. for the sake of the team, of course.” you joke.

"cute and funny. what don't you have goin' for you?" he asks, and you're sure you look as shocked as you feel. though you're shocked at the bold audacity oliver has to try and flirt with you, it must come across as being flushed or flustered by his compliment.

"oh, please, you probably say that to all the girls who come across this dugout." "only the hot ones. honest." oliver says with a smirk, drawing an 'x' over his heart with his bat-gloved finger.

you roll your eyes with a grin, speaking loud enough for bill to hear, just to be a tease, "well, color me flattered. you're quite the smooth talker."

bill's messing with his keys as he starts to zip up his bag down on the other side of the dugout. he barely bats an eye, huffing as a way to acknowledge that he heard your flirts, but he's never the one to be obviously jealous in front of people.

"no, i'm not. you're just easy to talk to, y/n. it's nice of you to come to our games all the time. bill, maybe you should watch out, your girl is stealing your show."

bill chuckles, looking non-chalant. "she steals the show no matter where she goes." his jaw is clenched though, and you see through his façade. your stomach coils in affection for him, and you decide to tease him a little bit.

you smile, laying your hand lightly on oliver’s arm in a friendly way. "well, i have to come down here to check out all the hot talent." you say with a wink. bill's walking up to you by now, bat bag hanging off one shoulder, eyes narrowed. you bite your lip, looking at his face, how attractive he is...

"what, like you can't just look in the mirror?" oliver grins. you roll your eyes, "you're quite a flirt." you say gently, smile on your face. bill looks pissed as he gently wraps his arm around your shoulders. he smells like he just put on fresh deoderant and oliver looks to him.

"sheesh, denbrough, your girl is bad.” he then turns to you, “y/n, you gotta let me take you out sometime, show you what you're missing."

you laugh, shaking your head, "you're ridiculous." you mutter, hand sliding into bill's as he brushes past. "oliver. she's not going out with you." he says coldly. you're pulled after him, biting your lip as you follow him out of the dugout.

"aw, c'mon, denbrough, i was just kiddin'!" he calls after you as you follow bill towards his car. "bye, y/n!" he calls, and just as the cherry on top, you turn and wave to oliver as you and bill walk away.

you're laughing as you follow him, but bill's face shows no emotion, and you bite your lip. you hope he knows it was just fun and games - he's done the same to you before, after all. it's fun to tease each other.

"bill," you insist as he tugs you towards his car. "-we don't need to talk about it." he says, brows drawn. you lift one of your own, "then why do i feel like i'm about to be shut out? he was just joking around. if i was uncomfortable i would have told him to fuck off." you say.

but then you're being pressed against the side of the car, bill's chest flush against yours. "i'm not gonna shut you out." he mutters, eyes stuck on your lips before he tugs your neck toward his, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. he pulls back just as you thread your fingers through his hair, "-but you need to stop being such a t-tease." he adds.

shivers run down your spine as bill's fingers find your warm skin, right below the hem of your dress before he tugs up your leg, kissing you again. breath leaves your body as you surge up against his strong kiss, his hand squeezing the back of your thigh and trailing up towards your ass.

you tug it down lightly, pulling away. "bill, people will see." you mutter with a shy grin. he looks at you, "what, now you care?" he asks, and you flush more, biting your lip. he steps away from you and opens the door to the backseat, smirking. "after you, then."

a slap falls to your ass as you crawl into the backseat and you smile, turning just as he moves between your legs, lips catching yours heatedly. "you're mine." he mutters against your lips, already rutting his hips against yours and making you mewl lightly.

"i know," you say, tugging his hair. “you want to do this right now? even though we could get caught?” you say breathlessly, hands tangled in his hair. "how else is oliver going to remember that you're mine?” he says, staring at your lips. your stomach drops a bit, butterflies fluttering and making you shiver. even after dating bill for a while, he still makes you flush.

“then let’s go, denbrough.” you say, pulling him down by the neck in desperation. he smirks into the kiss, kissing you so deeply you see stars. his hands hike up your dress around your hips, hands caressing your inner thighs.

“you think it’d be hot if i fuck you in his car, huh?” he whispers quietly in your ear. your eyes roll back as his fingers rub tight, teasing circles over your core, a fire slowly being lit. you only whimper a bit, biting your lip. “y-yes.” you gasp then, as he slips a finger into you.

he still watches you intently, curling his finger slightly and making you whimper as you try to spit out your words. it makes you turn bright red. your throat gets dry. “p-please.” you say, cheeks feeling hot with need. the windows are starting to fog up in the car as he slowly slides the underwear down from your legs, kissing the skin as he goes. you’re breathing shakily and then he’s bringing his eyes up to you before lifting up the skirt of your dress and disappearing from your sight.

you gasp in pleasure as you feel bill’s tongue dart out and lick a bold, flat stripe up your heat. “fuck,” you whisper, your hands moving from gripping the seat you’ve laid on to pulling up your dress, lacing your fingers through bill's auburn locks.

but then, he presses a kiss to your clit and leans back, smirking at you as you stare at him. "wh-"

"you weren't good enough for a reward. flirting with my teammates." he says, jaw clenching. "did you think that was cute?"

you moan as he starts to tease your clit with his finger, agonizingly slowly. "did you?" he asks again. the car is hot, almost as hot as it is outside, and his skin is warm and just as slicked with sweat as yours. you bite your lip, moving your hips to try and feel some relief for the arousal seeping through you.

"jus wanted you, bill. i'm sorry." you mutter, feeling flushed and desperate. he hums, shaking his head. "you're mine." he states, and you nod, suppressing a moan as one of his fingers dips into you just to pull back out. "how can i prove it to you?" you ask, lifting a brow and biting your lip, eyes falling to his hard-on. he shakes his head, though, hand falling to lay you against the seat fully.

"no. i want to be inside of you." he mutters, kissing your lips, leaving you feeling feverish. "now."

and then you're both fumbling, desperately palming him and undoing his belt, pulling him out of his pants, and then bill pushing you back to lay again. "you'll be good for me." he says, and it's not a question. his jaw is clenched, eyes bright with lust and hair mussed from where your fingers had found purchase not seconds ago.

“yes, bill. please, please.” you mutter, cheeks red. you hear him chuckle and you open your eyes as he starts to push into you, his cock stretching you out. "fuck!“ you hiss in pleasure, hands grasping his shoulder as he bottoms out.

he starts to move after only a mere second, hitting the perfect angle that makes you groan his name into his shoulder as his snaps snap against yours. your back rubs agaisnt the hot leather of the seat, your face being hit by the boiling sun through the window, but you don't care because it feels so good. he moans into your lips, catching you in a heated kiss as he thrusts into you. "bill, fuck, you feel so good.” you gasp out, whimpering as he pushes your dress up further, fingers tweaking your nipple.

he groans, watching as your body moves with the rocking of his hips, licking his lips. “baby.” he mutters, hands gripping your hips tightly as he pounds into you. “you’re mine.”

you nod as he hits a new angle inside you and you know you’re very close again. “yes, i’m yours, bill.” you mumble, blissed out as he rolls his hips hard against yours.

his head dips down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swiping over the bud and making you gasp as he palms the other one. he moves his hips and you roll your eyes back slightly as you shut them. “bill, i’m close.” you whimper. he chuckles, “already?” you can only nod desperately, clawing at his shoulders to stabilize yourself as he fucks you into the backseat, every movement bringing you steadily to the brink.

you squeeze his hair lightly as you whimper, the feeling euphoric as your toes curl. his name falls from your lips every few seconds as he thrusts into you, hitting deeply, the coil in your stomach about to release. “bill, please, i’m gonna cum.” you mutter, eyes closed and chest rising and falling.

"good." he says, spitting on your clit, thumb following to rub it, making you arch your back, clenching around him tight as you near your high.

“how’s that feel?” he mutters, and you feel like you’re on fire. “fuck- bill, so good. feels s'good.” you mutter. he hums, cheeks red as he moans, and you grin - you can tell he likes hearing how good he makes you feel.

"could oliver make you feel like this?" he mutters, and you feel yourself flush, because he's never been so jealous in bed before. it adds to your arousal and you moan out, "no, only you, bill."

he bites down on your neck, hands roaming your body, squeezing your ass, pinning down your shoulder as he leans back, changing the angle and making you moan even louder.

“bill, please, it feels so good, don't stop,” you start to beg, arm coming to wrap around his neck as you shake. following your pull, he falls on top of you again, humming against your chest and you moan loudly - loud enough that if someone were passing by the car they’d certainly know - and clench around him. “c'mon, y/n," he whispers, eyes glinting with pride. “cum for me.”

you’re shaking and moaning his name as you finally hit your high. your breathing stutters as he starts to thrust slower, milking you through your orgasm, one hand on the seat near your head and other hand soothing your hair. your eyes are pressed shut as you clench through your high. “fuck, bill.” you whimper. he's kissing you. "so pretty, and all mine." he mutters against your lips.

"i'm yours, bill," you moan into his ear, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. "you feel so good."

and then he's cumming, too, moaning as he spills into you, both of your hearts slamming against the others, chests pressed together. he pulls you in for another kiss and you sigh into it, feeling full and fucked out. "i love you." he says against your lips, and you smile. "i love you, too."

"i need a shower." is all bill says as he pulls out of you, a laugh escaping his lips. you giggle, sitting up, legs feeling like jelly as bill opens the door, exiting the car and then pulling you out, too - just to find oliver and their other teammate, jason, walking towards their cars a few feet away.

you stare at them, wide-eyed, trying to smooth down your hair, and you realize that bill's still trying to re-do his belt on his uniform. they stare back and oliver clears his throat, clearly shocked and definitely aware of what you and bill had just done. you grin as bill mutters, "see you later, man." and his face has a wide smirk, the other two boys looking shocked.

you're embarrassed, but as bill pulls you into his side and kisses your forehead with a shit-eating smirk, you decide you don't really care. "let's go take that shower, hm?" you mumble, kissing him softly before sliding into the passenger seat.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @nate-isnt-great @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

#bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough smut #losers x reader #losers club x reader

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pastrnaks-sainz · 3 years

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Pasta’s Secret Wife

Pairing: David Pastrnak x reader

Type: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: You and David met in his rookie year when you traveled to Boston with the Capitals for a game. You never lost contact, and dated long distance until three years later David proposed. You were married in secret, no friends or family present. Nobody besides close family knew, not even your respective teams.

Request: Can you do one where the reader is an athletic trainer for the caps but is secretly married to Pasta and the team finds out at a bruins v caps game? (from anon)

A/N: okay I actually love this so much, nonny thank you ily

~~~~

Bergy had noticed the ring Pasta wore on his right ring finger; he just never said anything about it. He thought it might have had something to do with his father and never asked. He thought that for months until round one, game five.

“Do you know where Pasta is?” Bergy asked, adjusting his mask as he stepped up beside Marchy. “I haven’t seen him for a couple hours.”

“Last I saw him he was eating in the hotel café,” Marchy responded. “Why? What time is it?”

“Five minutes until we need to get on the bus,” Bergy answered, holding out his wrist so Marchy could see his watch.

“Oh,” Marchy said. “Oh that isn’t good.”

“No,” Patrice hummed, scanning the lobby for his missing line mate. “No it’s not.”

“Hey guys,” Pasta’s voice came from behind them, making them both turn around. “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up talking to someone.”

“You’re here now, it’s fine,” Bergy said with a smile and a shrug before shooting Brad a warning glare. Brad held up his hands in mock surrender and motioned for Patrice to follow Pasta out of the hotel.

The incident stayed in the back of Patrice’s mind up until he was putting his jersey on. It was unusual for Pasta to be late to leave. He made a mental note to talk to him about it after the game, but right now he needed to focus on winning and getting into round two.

Your mind was running wild. You had met with David at the hotel before the game like you did before every game the Bruins and Capitals played. Your meetings were typically brief, and you tried your best to blend in and not draw any attention to who you were with or, more importantly, who you were kissing.

“Y/N,” TJ snapped his fingers in front of your face. You shook your head, looking up from the wrap you were putting on his ankle. “Something’s up with you, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, securing the ace bandage and cleaning up your station. “Why do you ask?”

“Because when I said that aliens were invading at the end of the month you nodded and went ‘mhm’,” TJ folded his arms over his chest. He looked at you with an expecting gaze.

“Sorry,” you sighed, rubbing your face. “Just been really distracted lately.”

“Wanna talk?” he asked sincerely.

“Not right now,” you shook your head, turning to face him. “You should go get ready, you’ve got a big game.”

“Yeah,” TJ said, clearly not buying your answer as he left the training room.

You sighed deeply and grabbed the things you kept with you on the bench. You hoped the fast paced action of the game would be enough to keep you distracted from the conversation you’d had with your husband just two hours earlier, but you knew seeing him on the ice was just going to make you want to get out of Washington faster.

A couple weeks before the playoffs started you had made a deal with David. When the Capitals’ season was over you were going to join the Boston training staff. David had talked to the necessary people to make it happen and the last time you were in Boston you agreed to the terms. Now, with the Capitals facing elimination, it was seeming way too real way too quick.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to join him in Boston and finally be able to tell people about your marriage. You had just lived in Washington all your life and, while you were on the road a lot for your job, the thought of leaving for another city was daunting. David has assured you that the move to Boston wouldn’t be difficult and that he’d hold your hand the entire time. His words had soothed your worries some, but your mind was still going a million miles per hour.

You absentmindedly chewed on your gum as you stood on the bench. Despite the distraction, you were still looking for anything that might need your immediate attention.

In the first period when David scored you had to use all your self restraint to not cheer. You were thankful for the mask that hid your near giddy smile.

When the game was finally over you were relieved. Though you couldn't show it, you were happy the Capitals had lost. Now all that was left for you to do was turn in your Capitals gear and head over to the Boston side of the arena. Your boss knew you were leaving when the season ended weeks before the playoffs started. He was the only one who knew the true reason for your departure.

“Pasta!” Bergy called, jogging to catch up with his teammate who was already halfway down the hallway. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Yeah,” David nodded.

“What’s going on with you, man?” Patrice asked, folding his arms over his chest and looking at David with a concerned look. “You’ve been distracted all night, that’s not like you.”

David glanced over his shoulder to make sure there was no one around to hear what he had to say. He was about to tell Patrice everything when he saw you walking up to them behind Patrice. David instantly relaxed in your presence.

“Give me two seconds,” Pasta said, holding up a finger and darting over to take your hand. “I’m so happy you came.”

“You didn’t think I would?” you asked as David cupped your cheek in his hand. His blue eyes were casted down to your feet. “Baby, I was never not going to come to Boston with you. I just needed to turn in my stuff. Did you really think I wasn’t coming?”

“For a second I thought you might have decided to stay here,” he responded in a low voice, his accent thicker than normal. He shook his head as if he were clearing the doubts from his mind before taking your other hand. “Is it okay if we tell Patrice?”

You looked over his shoulder to where Patrice Bergeron was intently watching the interaction.

“Yes,” you nodded, your gaze flicking back to David. He smiled beneath his mask and led you over.

“Patrice, this is Y/N,” he introduced you. You shook Patrice’s hand as you clinged to David’s side. “My wife.”

“Wife?” Patrice asked, freezing as he dropped your hand. He glanced down to the ring on David’s finger and it all fell into place. Why he always disappeared for a couple hours whenever they were playing the Capitals. Why he started to leave team functions earlier. Why he was almost always alone when he was on the phone with someone.

“We got married in August,” David said, looking down at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“We didn’t tell anybody because we didn’t know what the reaction would be,” you said.

“First, as your captain, I want you to know you can tell me anything and I won’t say a word if you don’t want me to,” Patrice said, looking at David. “Second, it’s nice to finally meet you even though I had no idea you existed.”

“Nice to meet you too,” you laughed, already feeling welcome.

“So can I ask why you’re just telling us now?” Patrice asked, folding his arms once more.

“Well in March I finally realized that Washington wasn’t the place I wanted to be and that I wanted to be in Boston with David,” you said, looking up at your husband. “We had a conversation and we agreed that once the Capitals season was over I would join the Bruins training staff since there was an opening.”

“We kept it secret until the opening came up,” Pasta said, giving your hip a comforting squeeze. “I talked with the people here I needed to to make sure she got the job and she talked with her boss.”

“That sounds great,” Bergy shrugged his shoulders. “So why were you all distant before the game?”

“This series put a strain on the plan,” Pasta sighed. You rubbed his back, sensing his uneasiness.

“I didn’t want to look bad, leaving Washington for Boston when this series ended,” you said, interjecting so David didn’t need to speak. “I know nobody knows the training staff but if announcers got a hold of it we didn’t want me to look like I was jumping ship to Capitals fans.”

“Makes sense,” Patrice nodded.

“I think I’ve kept you a secret for too long,” David said, looking down at you. “Is everybody still in the locker room?”

“Yeah, they should all be there,” Patrice nodded, pushing himself off the wall and starting down the hallway. “I should give you a word of warning, Y/N, they can be a bit much sometimes.”

“I’m used to it,” you reassured him as Bruce Cassidy stepped out of the locker room.

“Good, I was just going to come look for you two,” he said before his gaze landed on you. “Y/N, I presume?”

“That’s me,” you nodded, shaking his hand.

“Welcome to Boston,” he said warmly. “Wanna get the paperwork out of the way then meet the team?”

“Sure,” you nodded, detaching yourself from David and following Bruce down the hallway.

“You picked a good one,” Patrice said, clapping David on the shoulder.

“I know I did,” David smiled to himself as he watched you step into an office, followed by Don Sweeney and Cam Neely. “I’m proud of her.”

“You should be,” Patrice nodded.

“I’m looking forward to working with you,” Bruce shook your hand as you parted ways with Neely and Sweeney and walked back towards where David and Patrice were waiting outside the locker room.

“So am I,” you agreed.

“Come on, let’s introduce you,” Patrice said, patting your shoulder and walking into the locker room. The team, once antsy with waiting, feel silent with the sudden presence of their coach, captain, teammate, and new girl.

“Thanks for waiting, boys,” Bruce started. “You all had a good game and I’m sorry for keeping you but I’d like to now hand it over to Bergy and Pasta, they have something to tell you.”

“As you guys know Nate had to leave the training staff a few months ago and we’ve been a little shorthanded,” Patrice started. You could feel the glances the team sent your way. “So I’d like to introduce Y/N as the newest member of the training staff.”

You nodded in thanks to the applause the team gave you.

“But I think Pasta might want to introduce her as someone else,” Patrice stepped aside.

“I would like to introduce Y/N as my wife,” Pasta ripped the bandage off. You braced yourself for whatever reaction the team might have. They were silent for a moment before Tuukka stood up, walked over, and all but yanked you from under David’s arm into a hug. The locker room erupted into what could only be described as chaos as the players jockeyed for a hug.

“Still think it was a good idea?” Patrice asked jokingly as he watched the scene unfold before him.

“Yup,” David nodded before going over and ripping you away from Jake.

“What the hell man? I wanted a hug!”

“I’ve decided that I’m the only one who gets to hug Y/N.”

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izzyfandoms · 3 years

Text

Bloody Hearts

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

SHIPS: Remile, Minor Logicality

WARNINGS: Blood, mentions of sex, mentions of throwing up, violence, kidnapping, murder

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1 @yourneighborhooddisaster @alexxander-the-gay @full-of-roman-angst-trash @selfcarejanus

Masterpost

Remy stared into his reflection in the mirror, meeting his own eyes.

His irises were red – a bright, blood-like colour, reflecting his diet – and his teeth were sharply pointed, perfect for tearing into flesh. His skin was pale, almost unnaturally so, like he had painted his skin white with makeup.

But, of course, he could not let his boyfriend, Emile, know he looked like this.

He raised his hand, reaching up to run his finger over his sharpened teeth. His skin was almost indestructible, so there was no risk of cutting himself. Then, the teeth slowly lost their points, becoming boring and smooth, like a human’s teeth. And then, he closed his eyes, reaching up and running his fingertips over his eyelids. When he opened his eyes again, they were a dark brown, almost black. His skin remained pale, but humans could be pale, too, so he did not see much point in attempting to change that.

Remy then leant in just a little closer to the mirror, examining his appearance and finding himself satisfied with how he looked.

Of course, he was handsomer in his natural form, but he was still, in his opinion, incredibly attractive with blunt teeth and brown eyes.

Remy grinned at his reflection. Emile would not be able to take his eyes off of him.

Then, suddenly, there was a banging on the bathroom door.

“Remy! Why are you spending so much time in there? You don’t even need to piss!” came one of his roommates – Nate’s – voice from through the door.

“I’m changing my appearance, dick. Give me a sec.”

“Don’t take too long!” Nate called back. “I’m waiting to take a shower.”

Remy rolled his eyes, before he turned back to the mirror. He checked his appearance once more, making sure that all of his teeth were perfectly human-like and that both of his eyes were brown instead of red. They were exactly how they were supposed to be, and Remy nodded to himself.

He smiled. Damn, he was one handsome vampire.

No wonder Emile liked him.

Then, Remy turned away from the mirror, walking over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open.

Nate was stood at the other side. At first glance, he looked human – like a particularly handsome human, perhaps unnaturally so – but then Remy noticed the horns that protruded from the top of his head, and the demon-like tail that swished from side-to-side.

“Finally!” Nate said. “You’ve been in there for ages.”

Remy rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Why are you in such a rush, anyway?”

“I have a date,” Nate said, just a tad smugly, as if it was something to show off.

“Of course, you do,” Remy said. “You always have a date.”

“It’s how I feed. You have your blood, and I have my sex. And don’t pretend you’re not preparing for a date, too.”

Before Remy could respond to that, their final roommate, Toby, appeared beside them, fading from nothingness into transparentness into a solid person.

Technically, he did not live there. He used to, but then he had died in the house, and now he haunted it. Luckily, a pair of supernatural beings had moved in, so he hadn’t had to hide or scare them away.

“Hey, Toby,” Remy said. “How’s death?”

“Oh, you know, it’s death. Little fun, little gloomy. It’s a mixed bag.”

“Well, that’s fun and all, but I should really get going.” Remy pulled out his phone, checking the time on it quickly. “I have a date that I do not want to be late for.”

“Are you sure?” Nate asked. “You’re late to everything.”

Remy let out an offended sound. “I am not.”

Nate gave Remy a look that said that he absolutely did not believe him.

“You are, and you can’t deny it. You made us almost an hour late last time we tried to go out to dinner with our friends.”

Remy crossed his arms. “That was not my fault.”

“You were the one who spent ages on your makeup. It was totally your fault.”

“I like to look good!”

Nate paused, before he grinned. “Well, that makes sense. Not everyone is blessed with such naturally good looks like me.”

Remy gasped. “Bitch! You take that back.”

Toby snorted, and Remy turned to him, too, with an offended expression.

“You, too, Toby? I am being attacked in my own home!”

“Our home,” Nate corrected. “And don’t act like you’re any better than us.” He then reached out, patting Remy on the shoulder. “Now go on, shoo. You have a date to get to. You don’t want to be late for it, right? Emile might be an angel, but he can’t be that patient.”

“Right,” Remy said. “Okay. Later, losers!”

Then, without any more words, he turned around and began to walk down the hallway, away from his two roommates.

Unfortunately, Nate was right. Remy did not really want to be late to his date.

***

When Remy arrived at the café, he immediately noticed Emile sitting at one of the tables. He was on his phone – having not noticed Remy’s arrival yet – and he was smiling to himself, looking absolutely adorable, though that wasn’t in any way a surprise.

Remy smiled at the sight of him. Wow, he really wanted to kiss Emile right now.

For a moment, his mind wandered outside of his control, and he wondered how Emile’s blood would taste. How sweet it would be. How the blood would feel coating his tongue. How it would feel to bite into Emile’s skin, piercing it with his knife-sharp teeth.

Then he shook his head, just a little aggressively.

No. Nope. Bad brain. Emile was boyfriend, not food.

As appealing as the thought of sucking his blood might be, he also really did not want to do it. He liked Emile – maybe loved, but he hadn’t really thought about that yet – he did not want to hurt him.

He did not particularly want to hurt anyone.

Well, there was always that little part of him that wanted to drink human blood. That instinct deep inside of him. But he stuck to animal blood and blood taken from vampire-friendly blood banks, which were good enough, though not perfect.

But Remy would not give in to that instinct. He would not attack a human. Not again.

Emile looked up from his phone, straightening up when he caught Remy’s eye. He smiled – such a gorgeous smile – and Remy immediately forgot what had been bothering him before. He smiled back, and began to walk over to Emile.

He sat down in the seat across from Emile, and Emile immediately reached out and took one of Remy’s hands into one of his own.

“Hi, honey,” Emile said. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Good, good. I made a breakthrough with one of my patients yesterday, so I’m still happy about that. And now I get to spend time with my wonderful boyfriend, so I’m extra happy! Everything’s just perfect.”

Remy smiled. “You’re sweet as sugar, babe.”

He smelled as sweet as sugar, too. Some of the most sweet-smelling blood he had even found. But Remy was not going to say that part out loud.

Emile instantly smiled back, squeezing Remy’s hand. “Only because you deserve it.”

Did he, though? A small part of his mind whispered that, and Remy only just managed to keep himself from frowning.

Remy pushed that thought deep down, and instead continued to smile at Emile.

“You’re the one that deserves the world, babe,” he said sincerely, squeezing Emile’s hand back. “If I could give it to you, I would.”

Emile smiled softly. “You’re a sweetheart,” he said.

Remy let out an overly offended gasp, laying the hand that wasn’t in Emile’s over his heart.

“You wound me! I am not a sweetheart; I am the exact opposite of that.” He leant in closer to Emile, lowering his voice to a whisper. “I’m actually a vampire. I suck the blood of innocents. I’m not a sweetheart; I am a monster.”

He kept his tone jokey, though most of the words he had spoken were the truth. He no longer drank the blood of the innocent, but that was irrelevant. Emile did not think any of his words were real.

Emile laughed.

“Sure, sure,” he said. “And I assume you’re drinking my blood next?”

“Absolutely. I’m sure it’ll taste just as sweet as you are.”

Remy was sure it would, but he never wanted to lay so much as a finger on Emile.

Emile let out another laugh. He squeezed Remy’s hand, and Remy immediately – instinctively – squeezed it back. Emile’s smile softened, and the look that he gave Remy was so sweet that Remy’s heart would have skipped a beat in his chest if it had still been able to do that.

He smiled back, and was sure that the expression on his face would have been just as sappy.

They paused for a few seconds, just looking at each other softly, before Emile straightened up and spoke again.

“I have a question,” he said.

“What is it?”

Emile paused, seeming to think about his question for a few moments.

“Do you want to meet my family?” he finally asked.

Remy stared at him, a little surprised. “You want me to meet your family?”

“Well, yeah. We’ve been together for a while now, and I know I love you, and my family is very important to me. I want you to meet them,” he said, before hurriedly adding. “But only if you want to, of course. If you don’t want to, then that’s fine.” He squeezed Remy’s hand. “What do you want to do?”

Remy paused, thinking.

He and Emile had been dating for a while now. He knew that he cared about him a lot. He was absolutely certain of that, though the word ‘love’ was still new to him. So, it made sense for him to meet Emile’s family.

Of course, that would definitely lead to questions about Remy’s own family, but that was okay. He could deal with questions, even though the awkwardness that came with his answers was always uncomfortable. He could handle that. He had done it before – including when Emile had first asked about his family – and he could do it again.

“Okay, sure,” Remy said. “I’ll meet your family. How many brothers do you have again?”

“Four,” Emile answered. “Janus, Roman, Remus and Virgil. They’re all older than me. And then there are my dads: their names are Logan and Patton.”

Remy nodded. “Okay. I can meet them.”

Emile looked over Remy’s face, like he was looking for any hint that Remy did not actually want to meet Emile’s family. But Remy was happy to do that, so Emile did not find anything negative on his face. Remy simply gave him a smile.

Then, Emile smiled back. “Okay. We can do that. I’ll text them later, and we can sort out a date.”

Remy squeezed Emile’s hand one more time. “Sure.”

Emile then leant forward, reaching over the table and pressing his lips to Remy’s for one single moment. The kiss wasn’t nearly long enough, in Remy’s opinion, so when Emile pulled back, he chased his lips, kissing him once more.

Wow, if Remy could live on kisses instead of blood, he would make that decision in an instant. He could kiss Emile for an eternity.

Emile smiled, before he leant back in his chair. His eyes wandered, and Remy followed his gaze to the counter, where pastries and drinks were being sold. Emile then turned back to Remy.

“Shall we get something to drink?” he asked. “I’ll pay.”

Remy didn’t exactly need human food and drink, but it still tasted good, even if he had to throw it up later, as his body no longer had the ability to digest it.

But Emile did not know that, so Remy just nodded.

“Sure.”

***

“How the hell am I supposed to behave around his family?” Remy complained, flopping onto the couch and throwing his arms up into the air. “I’ve never met a boyfriend’s family before!”

When he had first heard from Emile that he was going to meet his family, he hadn’t been nervous in the slightest. But now – now that he’d thought about it for a little bit – some anxiety had risen up. He had never met a boyfriend’s family before, how was he supposed to behave around them?

“Seriously?” Nate asked, leaning back against the couch. “You’ve been alive for what, three hundred years? You’ve seriously never met a boyfriend’s family before?”

“Hey, I’m not really the commitment type! This is all new to me. I’ve never even told him that I love him!”

Nate raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never told him that you love him?”

“Hasn’t he told you that he loves you?” Toby asked.

“How the hell did you know that?” Remy asked, turning to where the voice had come from, but unable to find Toby.

He looked around the room, and then Toby slowly faded into visibility, standing in the spot where the voice had come from. He looked amused, his arms crossed, and was wearing the same thing he always wore: dark, blood-stained clothes that always seemed to leak blood on the floor, though his incorporeal form meant that he never left stains behind.

“He said it once while you were in the house,” he said.

Remy let out an offended sound. “You eavesdropped on us?”

Toby shrugged. “I’m dead. There’s not much I can do. If you’re in the house, I’m probably listening.”

Nate raised his hand. “That’s why I don’t bring guests back here.”

“Okay, still rude,” Remy said, crossing his arms and trying his best to glare at the friends that he could never truly be angry it. “You shouldn’t listen in on our conversations, what if they’re private?”

Toby shrugged again, and didn’t say anything else.

Remy sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a single moment.

“Fine. I guess I’m never bringing Emile back here ever again.”

“No! Emile’s fun,” Nate complained. He nudged Remy with his elbow. “More fun than you,” he teased.

Remy’s hand shot up to cover his heart, and he let out an exaggeratedly offended sound to match the gesture.

“Excuse me? I’m fun!”

“Eh...” Nate elongated the word, gesturing with his hand as he spoke.

Remy let out another offended sound, and Nate laughed. Toby chuckled, and Remy turned to look at him, trying not to laugh, too, and instead fixing an even more offended expression onto his face.

“I am the most fun vampire in the world.”

“That’s not hard,” Nate said, looking amused. “Vampires are all old and boring.”

“I am not old. How dare you accuse me of such things!”

“You’re three hundred years old,” Toby said, also amused. “I think that counts as old.”

Remy huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re all rude to me. And we’ve gotten off the subject! We were supposed to be talking about what I’m gonna do when I meet Emile’s family! What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to dress up all fancy and stuff?”

“That depends,” Nate said. “What are you doing?”

“We’re having dinner at his parents’ house.”

“Then you probably don’t have to look that fancy. Just dress kinda nice and you should be fine.”

Remy nodded. “Okay.” Then, he paused. “How do you even know this shit? You have, like, almost exclusively friends with benefits.”

Nate shrugged. “I’ve had romantic partners before.”

“You have?” Toby asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

Remy could not help but be surprised, too. He also raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, yeah,” Nate said. “I’m not only into sex.”

“You’re not?” Remy said flatly.

“Uh, rude. You’re not only into blood, are you? You drink and eat human food when you feel like it, right, even if you have to puke it later?”

Remy thought about it for a moment. Then, he shrugged. “Okay. Fair enough. But can you blame me? Coffee is just so tasty! And if you mix it with blood, it’s just perfect.”

“Gross,” Toby said, his nose wrinkled.

“Not gross, delicious,” Remy corrected. “It’s the best. You two should be jealous that you can’t enjoy it.”

“Speaking of your diet,” Nate said. “Are you ever gonna tell Emile about what you really are?”

Remy paused.

That... was something he had been really trying not to think about.

Keeping such a big secret from almost everyone he knew was normal for him. At the start of the relationship, it had been easy: lies about what he was came naturally to him, and he was pretty used to acting like he was just a simple human.

But... he cared about Emile. He cared about him more than he’d expected to when they'd first started dating. And, well, it was starting to kind of suck, keeping this from him.

But he tried not to think about it. Pretending that there was nothing wrong was simple enough, but impossible when people directly asked him about it.

Remy sighed, reaching up, running his fingers through his hair and running his tongue over his sharpened teeth.

“I don’t know.”

There was quiet for a few moments, where both of his friends just watched him, their brows creased in thought.

“Well, you only really have two options here,” Toby said. “You either tell him eventually, or you break up with him. You can’t hide it forever.”

"Are you doubting my skills?” Remy said, trying to keep his tone jokey, but it just fell flat.

“It’s not easy to tell people stuff like this,” Nate said, turning from Remy to Toby. “You’ve never had to hide it. You can’t meet anyone who doesn’t know, ‘cos your stuff is obvious. It’s hard not knowing how someone will react.” He paused. “I try not to keep humans too close to me, ‘cos you can never know who won’t keep your secret.”

“Yeah, well, I tried that,” Remy said. “But Emile’s just... I don’t know. He’s perfect.” He looked down at his hands in his lap. “I didn’t expect to actually, like, fall for him.”

There was a pause, before Nate spoke again.

“Aww, you’re showing genuine emotion? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Remy huffed. “Ugh, don’t be a dick, Nate.”

Nate raised his hands in defence. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, though he seemed amused. Then, he reached out and touched Remy on the shoulder. “I think you’ll figure it out. But you don’t need to worry about that just yet. You have a meeting with the family to prepare for. You’ve gotta impress them.”

“I’m sure you will,” Toby said. “I mean, you’re pretty cool when you’re not being a dick.”

“Hey, I’m pretty cool all the time,” Remy argued. He paused, and then added. “But, uh, thank you.”

“You’ve got this,” Nate said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’ll impress his family, and he’ll be so happy he won’t freak out when you eventually tell him you’re a vampire.”

“Thanks,” Remy said, already feeling just slightly better about the whole situation.

He really hoped that Nate was right.

***

When Remy arrived at the address Emile had given him, the first thing he noticed when he parked was Emile waiting just outside the house. He smiled, stepping out of his car, and Emile’s eyes finally landed on him. The moment Emile saw him, he smiled, too, and began to walk over to him.

“Honey, you’re here!” Emile said, taking Remy’s hand into his own and squeezing it. He then blinked, looking down at the hand, before looking back up at Remy. “Gosh, your hands are so cold. Are you sure you’re warm enough?”

“I’m fine, babe. There’s no need to worry about me. I’m just naturally cold.”

He was naturally undead, but Emile did not need to know that part yet.

“Well, I guess your skin is always cold,” Emile said, before he gave Remy another smile. He squeezed his hand. “Are you ready to meet my family?”

“That depends, are they gonna kill me for daring to date their beloved Emile?”

Emile laughed. “They won’t,” he said. Then, he paused. “I’m pretty sure of that, at least.”

“Are you sure?” Remy asked, squeezing his hand. “You are adorable. Anyone would want to protect you.”

Emile’s smile turned fond. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, though Remy’s tone had been mostly jokey.

Of course, Remy had meant what he had said. He would do anything for Emile. He was a literal angel, and deserved to be protected from all that was bad in the world. Remy would not have been surprised if Emile’s family agreed with him, too.

Remy began to lean in closer to Emile, intending on capturing his lips in a kiss, but he was suddenly interrupted by the door to Emile’s parent’s house swung open. They both turned to look in that direction, and a man with a moustache leant through the doorway.

“Are you two coming in or are you just gonna fuck in the street?” he called out.

Remy bit back a laugh as Emile gasped, his face turning pink.

“Remus!” he shouted back. “You can’t just say that!”

Remus laughed loudly, holding onto the doorway to keep his balance. Then, he was pulled back through the doorway, and another face – almost identical to his, just without the moustache and with red makeup – appeared.

“My apologies, Emile! I could not stop him in time.” His eyes then flicked to Remy, and he smiled friendlily. “Hello! You must be Emile’s boyfriend, it-”

Then, he was yanked out of the doorway and Remy heard the beginnings of an argument. He turned to Emile, amused.

“Are those the twins?”

Emile nodded, giving Remy a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, they argue a lot.”

“It’s fine,” Remy said. “Honestly, I think it’s entertaining.”

Emile gave Remy the mildest chastising look he’d ever seen.

Remy grinned. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, though he did not really mean it.

Emile sighed, but was clearly trying not to smile. He squeezed Remy’s hand.

“Shall we go inside?”

“Sure,” Remy responded. They took their first steps, before Remy paused, catching Emile’s attention. “So, is your family going to fight me for dating you?”

Emile laughed. “I don’t think so. But I promise I’ll protect you from them if I have to.”

Remy laughed at the mental image of his short, very-much-human boyfriend protecting him – a tall, super-strong vampire – from his family. Of course, Emile did not know that Remy was a super-strong vampire, but he at least knew that Remy was stronger than him. Remy had picked him up numerous times in the past to demonstrate it.

Emile let out an exaggerated gasp. “Are you doubting my strength?”

Remy grinned, squeezing his hand again. “Never.”

“Are you guys gonna keep flirting, or are you gonna come in?” Remus yelled from the doorway.

“We’re coming!” Emile called back.

He then turned back to Remy, offering him one of the sweet smiles that Remy adored to see, before he began to gently tug him in the direction of the front door. Remy followed immediately, and they soon arrived at Emile’s front door.

Remus grinned at them like he was planning something mischievous, but was tugged out of the way by Roman when Remy and Emile reached the front door.

“Be nice,” Roman said.

“Why?” Remus responded. “There’s no fun in that.”

Roman rolled his eyes, before he turned back to Remy and Emile and gave them a friendly smile.

“Greetings, boyfriend of Emile! It is wonderful to meet you at last.” Roman held out his hand, and Remy took it, shaking it immediately. When Roman released his hand, his expression turned serious, and he leant in slightly. “You had better be treating my little brother perfectly, or we are going to have problems.”

Remy straightened up, and a semi-serious expression appeared on his face, too. He lay the hand not in Emile’s over his heart.

“I promise you, I treat Emile better than I treat myself, and I love myself.”

Roman stared at him for a few moments, his brow creased like he was reading Remy’s expression, trying to determine his sincerity. Then, he leant back, and the smile returned to his face.

“Excellent! Do come in then. Dad and father are making dinner, so we’ll have to introduce you to our other two brothers first. Come on in!”

He stepped to the side, and Remy and Emile stepped through the front door.

Immediately, Remus moved around Roman and grinned at them again.

“So, what are your intentions with Emile?” he asked. “Do you love him?”

Remy stared at him, a little surprised by the question and unsure how to respond to that.

“Remus,” Emile said. “You can’t just ask him that!”

“Uh, why not?” Remus said, one hand on his hip. “It’s not like I asked him about your sex life. That would’ve been rude.”

“I’m surprised you even know that that would be rude,” Roman said.

Remus gasped, one hand flying up to cover his heart. “I know my manners!”

“Do you though?”

Before Remus could respond to that, Emile raised his hand and interrupted him.

“Be nice,” he said. “Please.” He then gestured towards Remy. “Remember, we have a guest.”

“Exactly, peasant,” Roman said, crossing his arms and turning back to Remus. “You need to behave in front of our guest.”

Remus gasped. “I’m always well-behaved.”

Emile sighed, turning to Remy and giving him an apologetic look, despite the fact that Remy was actually just trying not to laugh.

“Can you at least move aside and let us come through?” Emile asked.

Roman took a break mid-fight just enough to move aside and allow Emile and Remy to walk past them. As Remus and Roman continued to argue, Emile shut the door and then began to pull Remy through to another doorway.

They soon entered a dining room, where two people were sat at a table. One was dressed in black and purple, and the other was dressed in black and yellow. They both looked up when Remy and Emile entered. They straightened up, their eyes immediately on Remy, and then both looked him over with judgement in their eyes.

“Hmm,” the one in black and yellow said, leaning back in his chair. “I suppose he’s pretty.”

Remy only just stopped himself from responding with an ‘I know’, knowing that that would perhaps not be the best first impression.

“Thanks,” he said instead.

The man who had complimented him stood up, walking over to him and holding out a gloved hand for him to shake. Remy shook it immediately.

“I’m Janus,” the man said. “I’m Emile’s oldest brother.”

Remy nodded, releasing his hand. “I’m Remy. Emile’s told me a lot about you.”

“I’m Virgil,” said the other man, who was still sat at the table, looking Remy over judgementally. “If you ever hurt my brother, I’ll kill you.”

Remy almost said that he would have liked to see Virgil try, given the fact that the only thing that could kill him was a stake to the heart, but he didn’t want to give them even the smallest hint to his true species.

Fortunately, only some of the myths about vampires were true, making it just a little bit easier to keep that part of his identity secret. He could go out in sunlight. He didn’t need to be invited in to enter a house. Crosses did nothing to him. But a stake to the heart would still kill him, and garlic was one of his greatest weaknesses.

Emile knew about that last part – Remy had told him about his ‘allergy’, just in case Emile ever tried to feed him food with garlic in it.

“I get it,” Remy said. “I’d kill anyone who hurt him, too.”

“Honestly, I’d prefer it if both of you didn’t,” Emile said. “Murder is bad.”

Remy did his best not to visibly react to that statement, and he thought he did a pretty good job, as none of them looked at him strangely.

Of course, murder was bad. It was terrible. Ending a life for any reason other than necessity was horrible, deserving of a life spent in prison.

But... well, Remy had not always felt that way.

His past haunted him.

He swallowed, and then forced a smile onto his face that he hoped looked natural.

“Right, yeah. Murder is bad. I forgot about that for a second there, babe.”

Emile laughed, and gave Remy a smile that simultaneously made him feel better and feel worse due to how he had been lying to him throughout their whole relationship.

Remy wanted Emile to know the truth.

Remy wanted Emile to never discover his secret.

Remy wanted to tell Emile what he really was.

Remy wanted him to never find out.

Remy swallowed, and gave Emile a smile in return.

“You’re really going to be sappy right in front of us?” Virgil said, raising an eyebrow at them, and looking the slightest bit grossed out.

“We’re not being sappy, all we did was smile at each other,” Emile said, turning to his brother, just a little bit amused.

“Same thing.”

“I think you’re adorable, but I also don’t need to see you flirting,” Janus said.

“Fair enough,” Remy said.

He turned to Emile and gave him a smile, and Emile instantly smiled back, squeezing his hand.

Virgil sighed. “You doing it again,” he said.

“I’d say sorry, but I really can’t apologise for loving my boyfriend,” Emile said. “I would be holding his hand 24/7 if I could.”

Remy squeezed his hand. “Same.”

“Gross!” said a voice from behind them.

Remy glanced back over his shoulder, and saw that Remus and Roman had finally entered the room, and he assumed that it was probably Remus who had just said that. Roman immediately elbowed Remus in the side: not hard enough to hurt, more of a nudge.

“You’re just jealous that you can never get a boyfriend,” Roman said.

Remus gasped. “Excuse you! I could get a boyfriend if I wanted one, I just don’t want one. I already get enough di-”

“TMI,” Virgil called out.

“You’re just jealous that I get more guys than any of you do,” Remus said smugly.

But just before anyone could respond to that, someone else entered the room. It was an older man with blond hair, round glasses, and a cardigan wrapped around his shoulders. He was carrying a dish of food, and placed it down in the centre of the table. Then, he turned to the rest of the people in the room, his eyes immediately landing on Remy. He looked him over, before he straightened up and smiled, taking a few steps towards Remy and holding out his hand for him to shake.

“Hello! You must be Remy.”

Remy took his hand, shaking it immediately and offering the man a smile. He immediately smiled back, before releasing Remy’s hand.

“I’m Emile’s dad, you can call me Patton! It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” Remy responded.

“Oh, Emile has told us so much about you! He’s really smitten with you, you know.” Patton winked at Remy, and Remy laughed.

“Has he now?” Remy said, turning to Emile with a teasing expression.

Emile’s face went slightly pink.

He turned to his dad. “Dad,” he hissed. “Did you really have to tell him that?”

Patton laughed. “Sorry, sorry, I just couldn’t help myself. It’s just so sweet! I’m sure Remy agrees with me.”

“It is sweet, babe,” Remy said, squeezing his hand. “I talk about you all the time, too.”

“I’m sure your family has heard a lot about Emile, too,” Patton said, smiling.

Remy did his best not to tense up at those words, but he could tell that his discomfort was obvious by the way Emile turned to look at him with concern in his eyes.

If only Remy had a family to tell.

“I don’t, uh... I don’t have a family,” Remy said awkwardly, avoiding eye contact and rubbing the back of his neck.

Emile squeezed his hand.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Patton said sympathetically, which did not help the awkwardness of the situation.

“It’s fine,” Remy answered back immediately. “They, uh... died a long time ago. So, it’s... fine.”

They had died a long time ago, longer than anyone else in that room would have guessed. Hundreds of years ago. Back when Remy had been young: a new vampire, freshly turned.

Remy hadn’t been the one who had killed them. But it had been his fault.

There was silence for a little bit, before Emile cleared his throat and spoke.

“So, uh, what’s for dinner, dad?”

Remy was grateful for the change in subject, and it seemed like everyone else was, too. The awkwardness faded, though not entirely, as Patton straightened up and answered the question.

“Well, I was going to make spaghetti, but you told me that Remy was allergic to garlic, so-”

“You’re allergic to garlic?” Remus asked, grinning. “What, are you a vampire or something?”

Remy laughed.

Oh, they had no idea.

“Sure,” he said. “And I’m only here to suck your blood. You never should’ve invited me into your home.”

That was not the first time he had gotten that reaction when he had revealed his ‘allergy’ to garlic, so it was easy enough to joke about it. And, besides, it was fun to joke about being a vampire. None of them knew the truth, and there was something enjoyable about joking about a secret that nobody else knew.

Everyone laughed, and Remy smiled, glad to have gotten rid of the tension from before.

Just as they finished laughing, the seventh and final member of the Picani family entered the room, carrying a stack of plates in his hands. He had dark hair and a necktie, as well as square glasses perched on his nose.

This must have been Emile’s other father, Logan, who was apparently a very serious teacher. Remy needed to make sure he got on this guy’s good side.

Once the stack of plates was placed on the table, Remy reached out with the hand not in Emile’s.

“I’m Remy, it’s nice to meet you.”

Logan glanced down at the hand, then looked back up at Remy’s face – a critical expression on his own features – before he took Remy’s hand into his own and shook it.

“You can call me Logan. And likewise.”

Patton clapped his hands together. “Okay! Well, now that dinner’s all ready, let’s all sit down and eat.”

Just as he said that, Remy smelt something new appearing in the air. It got stronger and stronger every moment, and for the first few seconds, he could not tell what it was.

“Do you want to sit next to me, honey?” Emile asked, surprising Remy as he was too concentrated on the smell.

Remy’s head began to ache, and he stumbled.

“Are you okay?” Emile asked, concerned.

Remy’s vision began to go blurry, and he squeezed Emile’s hand to try and keep his balance.

Then, it hit him what this smell was. It was something he rarely smelt – he had avoided it since he’d first become a vampire – and therefore it had taken him a while to figure out what it was.

Garlic.

“Shit,” he swore, before his vision went black.

***

When Remy woke up, the first thing that registered in his mind was that he couldn’t see anything, which was strange, as vampires had better vision than humans did. Then, he realised that he was blindfolded, his eyes were covered, and that his hands and feet were bound, too.

He tried to pull his hands free, using that super strength that he had, but as soon as he moved, there was pain shooting through his entire body, like his veins had been filled with poison.

Then, he remembered the garlic smell that had hit him before he had passed out. Had whoever brought the smell injected it into his body?

He tried to sit up, but then something sharp dug into his chest, just over his heart.

“Don’t move. Or I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

Remy froze in place, thinking over his options for a moment, but before he could decide to do anything, the blindfold was ripped away from his face, and his eyes were exposed to bright lights above him. He winced in the bright light, squinting, before his vision cleared and he caught sight of the people towering over him.

They were sharp-teethed with bright red eyes, all looking either cold-faced or viciously delighted.

Remy glared up at them, before he turned his head to look around the room, and he froze in place once again as his eyes landed on something.

He wasn’t the only captive in the room.

Across from him were Emile and his family, all tied up and staring at him.

Emile looked absolutely terrified, wide-eyed and helpless, and Remy felt a fury bubble up inside of him. He turned back to look at their captives.

“Who the fuck are you?” he spat out.

The vampires towering over him all looked amused, some laughing at the question.

Then, a new voice began to laugh behind Remy. It was cold and cruel, and it took a few moments for Remy to recognise it.

Oh.

Oh no.

If his heart could still beat, it would have stopped in that moment.

He could not turn around, and instead froze in place, his eyes wide.

“Hello, Remy,” said the voice.

He could not find the words to respond for the first few seconds, before he forced himself to speak.

“Missy. It’s been a while.”

He hoped his voice wasn’t as terrified-sounding as he thought it did. It was hard to get the words out; it was hard to even just move, with the garlic inside of him. Everything hurt.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

She was going to kill him. She was going to kill Emile. She was going to slaughter all of them. She was going to make it hurt.

Fuck.

He listened to Missy’s footsteps walk around him, the only sound he could focus on in the whole room. Then, she was in front of him, looking down at him with an amused expression.

She was pretty, just as all vampires were, and her smile showed off her sharp fangs.

“Who are you?” Logan demanded, catching all of their attention. “Why have you taken my family hostage? What do you want with us?”

No. No, no, no. Remy needed to keep the other vampires’ attention on him. He needed to convince them only to hurt him, not the rest of them. He needed Emile and Logan and all of that family to stay quiet and safe.

He tried to send a message with his eyes that Logan should stop that, but Logan did not seem to receive it. Instead, Emile was the only one looking at him, still wide-eyed and terrified. He seemed to be begging Remy for answers, and Remy had no idea what to do to comfort him.

Did he have any honest answers that weren’t telling him that they were all probably going to die?

Missy let out a laugh.

“Oh, you don’t know me. But I know you.” She took a step towards them, and, in that moment, Remy wanted nothing more than to kill her. “You know my dear Remy. He’s the one I want to hurt.”

They all turned to Remy, wide-eyed and questioning.

Missy glanced back over her shoulder at Remy, grinning widely and running her tongue over her sharp teeth.

She turned back to Emile and his family.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re all going to taste delicious.”

There was silence for a few seconds: a fear-filled silence where all of Emile’s family stared at Missy in horror.

Missy licked her lips.

“But first,” she said, before she turned back to Remy. She walked over to him, kicking him with the tip of her shoe. “Remy, darling. Why don’t you show them the face that I gave you?”

Remy froze.

Missy pouted. “Come on now. Don’t give me that face. Show me what I want, and maybe I’ll think about killing them quickly.”

Remy glared up at her.

She reached down – much quicker than any human could have, practically a blur – and grabbed his face in one of her hands, squeezing it uncomfortably, her nails digging into her skin. He couldn’t be injured by something like simple nails, but it still did not feel good.

“Don’t touch him!” Emile exclaimed suddenly.

Remy’s gaze flicked to Emile, and he tried to communicate with his eyes that he loved him, but that he needed him to be quiet.

God. Remy loved him, didn’t he? Just the thought of Emile being hurt made his heart ache like it had been stabbed with a stake.

He was going to have to watch his love die, wasn’t he?

Missy laughed.

“You don’t want me to touch him?” she teased. “Oh, honey, you don’t even know him.” She turned back to Remy, grinning down at him and squeezing his face. He wanted nothing more than to rip her heart out with his bare hand, but he could barely even move. “You haven’t even told him your secret,” she sang.

“Secret?” Emile repeated, his voice quieter.

“Come on, Remy,” Missy said, her voice mockingly soft. “Won’t it be easier to just show him? Maybe, if you behave well enough, I’ll show him mercy.”

She wouldn’t.

There was absolutely no way on earth that she would ever show someone Remy cared about mercy.

But... what if she did?

Wasn’t that a chance worth taking?

Remy squeezed his eyes tightly shut, swallowing the lump in his throat. Then, he let himself change.

He could feel his teeth sharpening into points. They would have cut his tongue, if he hadn’t been nearly indestructible. He could not feel it, like he could feel the change in his teeth, but he knew that his eyes were turning a bright, blood-like red.

He stayed like that for a few seconds, keeping his eyes shut like delaying the inevitable would make it not happen.

But then, he opened his eyes, and his gaze immediately flicked to Emile.

Missy reached for his mouth, forcing it open and showing off the sharpened teeth that were attached to his gums.

Emile’s eyes widened, and most of his family let out their own gasps.

“The fuck? You’re one of them?” Remus exclaimed.

There was silence for a few seconds. Remy couldn’t even bring himself to nod, not taking his eyes off of Emile.

“What are you?” Emile asked quietly.

“What do you think?” Remus answered before Remy could – which might have a good thing, as the words were stuck in Remy’s throat. “He has fangs and is allergic to garlic!”

Missy laughed.

Emile turned back to Remy.

“You’re a vampire?”

Remy swallowed, and then nodded silently.

“He’s a smart boy,” Missy said, smiling, looking from Emile to Remy. “I just might have to keep him.”

No. No, no, no.

Missy wasn’t going to do to Emile what she had done to Remy.

“Don’t!” Remy cried out. “Please. Don’t- just don’t.”

Missy hummed, tilting her head.

“Now, why do you think you have a choice in the matter, hmm?” she said. “I mean, you haven’t been one of us in a long time. You made your choice.”

Remy had never had a choice about what they did, even when he had been a part of her group, so many years ago. She had always been... controlling.

“You know,” Missy continued. “It’s kinda funny that you thought you’d gotten away from us.”

“I haven’t seen you in a hundred years,” Remy said.

“That’s barely anything, compared to how long we live, though I suppose that’s a whole third of your life so far.” She squeezed his face, leaning in slightly closer. “It’s such a shame your life won’t continue for much longer.” Then, she released him, allowing him to drop back to the ground, pain from the garlic still echoing throughout his body. She then spun around, turning back to Emile and his family and spreading her arms. “But first, the entertainment!”

“Who are we killing first, my lady?” one of the other vampires asked, leaning in with an excited expression on his face.

Missy hummed, looking over Emile and his family and tilting her head. She tapped her chin with her finger.

“Well, not you, of course,” she said, smiling down at Emile. “We’re saving you for last. Well, second-to-last. Remy will be our final kill.”

Emile swallowed.

“Please. Please don’t hurt us. Just let us go. We haven’t done anything to you.”

Missy laughed. “Oh, honey. You know that it’s not you we’re punishing here, right? This is just... an unfortunate side effect of who you know. These things happen! Sometimes, you meet the wrong person, and your life is ruined. So, really, it’s not my fault. It’s Remy’s fault.”

Remy hated agreeing with her. He despised it just as much as he despised her.

But it was his fault, wasn’t it?

He had known that Missy would come back again, and yet... he had still made friends. He had still allowed himself to fall head-over-heels in love. He had put Emile in danger. He was going to get Emile and his family killed, and it was all his fault.

“Really, Remy, if you hadn’t disobeyed me in the first place, I never would have had to kill your first family, too.” Missy clicked her tongue like she was disappointed. “Don’t you see that this is all your fault?”

Remy did not want to give in to her. Everything inside of him screamed that this was all his fault, that she was right, but he could not tell her that.

He may have been at her mercy, but he could not show weakness. She would only take advantage of that.

He glared up at her, keeping his lips tightly shut.

“You killed his family?” Emile suddenly asked, his voice quiet, but loud enough that they all heard it, and Remy’s head snapped to look at him.

No. No, no, no.

Normally, he loved listening to Emile speak, but now was not the time for Emile’s sympathy. Missy would only take advantage of that.

Missy laughed.

“Of course! He tried to leave me, so, of course I had to punish him. You must understand, I need to make an example.” Missy turned back to Remy, offering him a smile. “You know I had to, right? You only got what you deserved!”

Remy glared up at her, and she let out another laugh.

He wanted to kill her. Not only for revenge, but to save himself and Emile and his family.

God, they were going to die, weren’t they? That was undeniable.

Then, there was a noise in another, nearby room, that Remy could hear with his enhanced hearing.

Footsteps. Familiar footsteps, though in his current state, he could not put his finger on who it was, his head just a little bit too foggy.

Missy gasped, clapping her hands together.

“Finally! I was wondering if he would ever show up.”

“Shall we go get him, my lady?” one of the other vampires asked

Missy hummed, tapping her chin with her finger and seeming to think about it for a few moments. Then, she shook her head.

“No. Let's let him come to us.” She smiled down at Remy, triumphant. “After all, we’ve got who he’s looking for, don’t we?”

Remy stared at her for a few seconds, before it hit him who those footsteps belonged to.

Oh. Oh no.

No. No, no, no. Was Remy really going to lose him, too?

He opened his mouth to say something – to beg Missy to just let them go, to only kill him and not the people associated with him, even though he knew in his heart that that would never work – but he was interrupted by a door suddenly swinging open.

And there was Nate, stood in the doorway, with sharpened horns and a tail that swished angrily. His expression was cold, unlike how it was usually laid back and amused.

His eyes flicked to Remy first, then to Emile and his family, and then to Missy.

“Our final victim!” she announced. “Oh, how wonderful it is to see you, Nate.”

“I’d say the same, but even just your face disgusts me.”

Missy laughed. “You’re quite the flirt.” She seemed unaffected by his presence. “Though I suppose that isn’t strange, given what you are.” She then turned to the other vampires stood nearby her, their faces a mix of vicious excitement. “Well, now that our final victim is here, I suppose we can finally get started.” She clapped her hands together. “Now, who shall we kill first?”

Nate let out a laugh. “You won’t be killing anyone, not tonight or ever again.”

He then leapt at her, his fingers turning to claws and scratching at her face. She stumbled back, letting out a startled cry, before she glared up at him.

“You stupid incubus!” she exclaimed. “You really think you can defeat all of us alone?”

“I just fed, so maybe I could. But I won’t be alone.”

His eyes landed on Remy, and Remy knew that he had to break out of the ropes to help him. But they were so tight, and his body was filled with pain that echoed through every single part of him.

But he had to help.

He couldn’t just lay down and let them all die.

His eyes flicked to Emile, who was staring at him, wide-eyed. He looked helpless, terrified, and Remy could not help but be filled with the desire to help him. To help all of them.

They weren’t going to die today.

He sat up, trying not to fall back down again at the sharp pain that flowed through him from every little movement. Then, he raised his bound hands slightly, looking down at them.

The sounds of fighting resumed, as Nate was surrounded by three vampires, and he tried to fight them all off. He was strong – stronger than they were – but he could not hold off that many vampires for long. Even he wasn’t powerful enough for that.

Remy squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment.

He had to do this. He had no other choice.

Then, he yanked his hands apart, letting out a cry of pain at the sharpness that filled him at every little movement. The ropes broke, and suddenly his hands were free.

Then, he looked down at his feet, which were also bound, and he reached out with his hands, trying his best to ignore the pain that that filled him with. He touched the thick ropes, and then tore them apart with his bare hands.

Now, he was free.

He took a deep breath – he did not really need to breathe, but it was a comfort – and tried to stand up. His legs wobbled, and he almost fell back down again, but he caught his balance quickly.

He could do this. He would be able to defeat the other vampires and rescue Emile and his family – Nate’s arrival had filled him with that confidence. The confidence was weak, easily breakable if he poked at it enough, but it was all he needed right now.

He could do this.

He straightened up, trying his best not to fall back down again at the pain that echoed throughout his entire body.

Missy spun around to face him, a vicious and angry expression on her face.

“I was going to make you suffer,” she said. “But now I think I’m just going to kill you.” She turned to the only other vampire that wasn’t fighting with Nate, and held out her hand towards him, gesturing to the wooden stake he held in his hands.

Remy couldn’t let her get it.

If she killed him, Nate, Emile and his family would surely be next. And Emile and his family were only human, they had no chance of fighting back.

Just as Remy was about to leap at the vampire with the stake, there was a cry of pain from the fight between Nate and the other three vampires. Remy’s head snapped to look at them – his neck aching in pain at the movement – and he saw that Nate’s hand had gone through one of the vampire’s chest, appearing on the other side of the body, with a bloody heart in his hand. He squeezed it, and it shattered like glass into numerous tiny pieces. The vampire fell to the ground when Nate pulled his hand back through the chest.

Well, that was certainly one way to kill a vampire. Remy had had no idea that that would even work, but the fully-dead body on the ground was indication enough that that it did.

Missy let out a furious sound.

“You dare kill one of my subjects? Oh, I will destroy you for this.”

As her eyes and the eyes of the vampire with the stake remained on Nate and the new body, Remy leapt into action. He yanked the stake from the other vampire’s hand, and stabbed it right through his body, piercing his heart, the sharpened tip appearing through the back.

He yanked it back, and the vampire fell to the ground, deceased.

Missy gasped, spinning back around to Remy. For a moment, the only expression on her face was shock, but then it quickly returned to anger.

He brandished the bloodied wooden stake, ignoring the pain that still flowed through him like blood.

Missy’s eyes narrowed at him.

“I should have killed you the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

“Yeah. You probably should have.”

Remy raised the stake, preparing to pierce right through her heart, but she dodged backwards, so fast that she was almost a blur. But he was just as fast, and chased after her. He swung the stake, but she dodged once more.

She spun around, racing away from him, and Remy suddenly realised that she was heading in the direction of Emile and his family. If he wasn’t quick enough, she would slaughter them before he could even lay a finger on her.

“No!” he cried out, just as Missy reached out towards Emile.

He grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back and then throwing her with all his strength across the room. She hit the wall with a loud cracking sound, and fell back down to the floor. Where she had hit the wall, there was now a crack, though it was most likely that she was completely unharmed.

Remy positioned himself so he was in between her and Emile and his family, squeezing the stake tightly and ignoring the pain in his whole body, that felt like he was going to explode into goo.

His eyes flicked towards Nate and the two vampires he was still fighting with. He seemed to be doing a good job at keeping them from killing him. Nate caught his eye for a single moment, before he grabbed the head of one of the vampires fighting with him, and tore it apart from the body.

Remy didn’t exactly know if it would kill the vampire – only a destroyed heart would achieve that – but it would certainly be enough to keep them down.

He turned back to Missy, and watched as she stood up slowly, and when she raised her head, her eyes were full of such a deep hatred that Remy had never seen anything quite like it before.

“I won’t let you hurt them,” Remy said.

“Oh, I’m not only going to hurt them. I’m going to slaughter them. They’re going to choke on their own blood for hours before I finally finish them off.”

Fury pumped through Remy, just as strong as the garlic that kept him in pain.

He had to protect them. He could not let Missy lay even a finger on them.

“You’re not gonna hurt them,” Remy said. He glanced at Nate, and met his eyes for one single second. “We won’t let you.”

Missy laughed coldly. “You won’t have a choice.”

She leapt towards him, so quick that he almost did not catch the movement, reaching for his chest with a claw-like hand. The tips of her nails touched his chest, but before they could dig in, Nate threw the other vampire right into her, and they both crashed to the floor.

Nate moved so quickly that he was a blur, reaching towards the vampire on top of Missy and thrusting his hand right through his chest. He yanked out his heart, and the crushed it with his bare, bloodied hand.

And then, the only threat left was Missy, who pushed the now-dead body off of her and stared up at Remy and Nate, who both glared down at her.

Finally, she looked afraid, her eyes wide.

“W-wait. Hold on,” she said, scrambling back. Her back hit the wall. “I- I wasn’t actually going to kill you. I was just- I was just messing with you. I was just trying to scare you, that was it.”

Remy didn’t believe a word she said.

“Sure,” he said flatly. “You kidnapped us all just to fuck with us.”

“Y-yeah, exactly! Come on, Remy, you- I've changed! Please, please just let me go.”

She looked so helpless, so utterly helpless, but it wasn’t enough to make Remy forget what she had done to him.

He remembered his family. Their bloody, broken bodies. The fact that he’d never even gotten to say goodbye. He had just come home and found them, dead on the floor.

He remembered the terror he’d experienced for years. Constantly afraid that she was going to find them again. That terror had faded over the years – the time away from her had convinced him that he’d never have to lay eyes on her again – but it had never truly gone away.

And now... she had almost murdered his beloved Emile. Had almost murdered his best friend, Nate.

She had never even considered showing them mercy. Why should he not be the same?

And besides, why not rid the world of one more monster?

“You’re only getting what you deserve,” Remy said, raising the stake in his hands, before bringing it down and thrusting it right through her chest.

She let out a gasp, freezing in place, before her eyes fluttered closed, and she slumped over, going still.

Remy let go of the stake, leaving it in her chest, staring down at her lifeless body.

She was... dead. She was really dead. She wouldn’t be able to hurt him, she wouldn’t be able to hurt any more people he cared about. She was... gone.

Nate lay a hand on Remy’s shoulder, making him jump.

“You alright?” he asked.

Remy opened his mouth to respond, but no answers rose in his throat. He was happy she was gone. He was devastated that he hadn’t been able to stop her from killing his family. He was relieved. He was in pain.

The pain left over from the garlic still flowed through his body, filling him with pain in every single part of him.

He tried to let out some words to describe how he was feeling, but, all of a sudden, his vision began to blur. He stumbled, almost falling over, but Nate caught him.

“I think... I’m going to pass out.”

And then his vision went black.

***

When Remy awoke, the first thing he noticed was the ceiling of his bedroom over him, though his vision was a bit blurry. Then, he noticed that there was something holding his hand. And finally, he realised that that something holding his hand was a person sat beside his bed.

He blinked, his vision clearing, and then turned his aching head. His eyes landed on Emile, who was looking down at him with a concerned expression on his face.

“Are you okay?” Emile asked, his voice gentle.

Remy paused, trying to sort through the vague memories in his brain to figure out what the hell had happened.

“What- what happened?”

“You don’t remember?”

Remy hesitated for a moment, memories slowly coming back to him.

Being kidnapped. Being threatened. Nate arriving. Fighting.

And finally, killing Missy.

“Oh,” he said, sitting up slowly, his body still aching, though nowhere near as much as it had been before.

Emile squeezed his hand, giving him a sympathetic smile.

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

“I... don’t know.”

“That’s okay. A lot happened. I wouldn’t expect you to be okay after everything.”

Remy paused, looking down at the hand that held his.

Emile... was willing to hold his hand, even after everything that had happened? Even after he found out what Remy was? Even after he discovered that Remy had been lying to him for this whole time? Even after his family had almost died because of Remy?

Remy... couldn’t believe it. It was too good to be true.

“You’re... holding my hand.”

Emile looked down at their connected hands, before looking back up at Remy’s face, a worried expression appearing on his features.

“I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” Remy answered immediately, before Emile could let go of his hand. “I just mean... you still want to?”

Emile paused.

“Why would I not want to? You saved mine and my family’s lives.”

“But I was the reason they were put in danger in the first place.”

“That was her fault, if I remember correctly, unless there’s something I’m missing. Did you ask her to kidnap us?”

“No, of course not.”

“Did you know she was going to kidnap us?”

Remy shook his head. “I would have stopped her if I had known.”

“Then how is it your fault?”

Remy hesitated.

“She-” He did not know what to say. He sighed. “I used to be one of her group, her- well, she always referred to us as ‘subjects’, like she was the queen of her pack. She was the one who turned me, about three hundred years ago. When I decided that I didn’t want to kill people, and decided to feed on animals instead, I chose to leave her.” He paused, taking a shaky breath. He did not need to breathe, but he still liked to occasionally. It felt nice, pretending to be human. “She killed my family. My dad, my little brother, everyone who meant something to me. She followed me everywhere I went for years, but I thought I’d lost her about a century ago. I got so used to being without her. I never thought she’d find me again...”

Emile squeezed Remy’s hand, bringing his attention back to him.

“That’s not your fault,” he said softly.

“You weren’t there. You don’t know what happened.”

“I know. But from what you’re saying, I can’t imagine how it could possibly be your fault. It’s her fault. None of the blame is on you.”

Remy didn’t know how to answer that.

It was his fault. That was what he’d told himself so many times in the last three hundred years. If only he had never left her side, his family never would have died. If he had only died instead of being turned, they never would have been slaughtered like animals.

Or maybe they still would have been. Remy didn’t know. Missy still could have chosen to murder them, whether or not Remy had made the decisions that he had.

There was no way to know.

Remy closed his eyes for a moment, before he opened them and spoke again, his voice soft.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised.

Emile blinked at him. “For what?”

“For lying to you. For not telling you what I am.”

Emile paused for a few moments, seeming to think.

“I forgive you,” he said firmly.

Remy stared at him for a few moments.

“You do?”

Emile nodded. “I do. I get why you hid it. Being a vampire is not exactly something you can tell someone on the first date. It’s a secret for a reason. I'm just glad I know now, even if I wish the circumstances had been different.”

Remy paused, thinking over his words for a few moments.

“I would have told you eventually,” he said finally.

Emile smiled, squeezing his hand. “I know. I mean, eventually I would notice that you weren’t aging.” He paused, his brow creasing. “You... can’t age, right?”

Remy laughed. “Yeah. I don’t age. I’m stuck like this until I die. It’s one of the perks of being a vamp. Forever young and beautiful.”

“Well, you are beautiful,” Emile agreed. “So, I can’t argue with that.”

Remy gave him a smile. “Thanks, babe.” He then paused, thinking over his next words very carefully before deciding, what the hell, he might as well say it now. “I love you.”

Emile stared at him, blinking for a few seconds.

“You do?”

Remy nodded firmly. “I do. I’m... sorry for not saying it earlier.”

Emile stared at him for a little longer, before giving him a loving smile. “That’s nothing to apologise for. I’m glad you waited until you meant it to say it. That means it means more.”

“I think I already loved you. I just... didn’t have the easiest time accepting it until I realised that I might never see you again.”

Emile reached out with the hand not holding Remy’s and gently touched Remy’s cheek. Remy leant into the touch like he hadn’t been touched in years.

“I love you, too,” he said, his voice soft and genuine.

Remy couldn’t help but smile back. He began to lean in, before he hesitated and stopped himself, not far from Emile’s lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Emile nodded immediately. “Please do.”

Remy leant in fully, pressing his lips to Emile’s in a sweet kiss. He lifted the hand not in Emile’s to Emile’s face, very gently touching his cheek. The kiss was soft and chaste, and Remy pulled back after just a few seconds. He rested his forehead against Emile’s.

They were silent for a few moments, both just sitting in the moment, feeling their love for each other like it was something physical in the air that they could touch.

Then, Emile leant back, meeting Remy’s eyes and smiling slightly, just a touch amused.

“I have a question,” he said.

Of course. He probably had a million questions about what Remy was.

Remy nodded. “What is it?”

“Are you gonna go as a vampire for Halloween?”

Remy let out a surprised laugh.

“Only if you do it with me.”

18 notes · View notes

pillow-anime-talk · 4 years

Text

sex but in yandere style.

request: hey bab! can i have hcs nsfw for yandere!mello and !near (separated)? being yanderes changes in something?

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of jealous/rough sex, boss kink, gun play, humiliation, degradation, slutty names + semi-public sex, cock warming, oral sex, overstimulation, orgasm denial, pet names

includes: female reader ft. mihael keehl & nate river {death note}

author’s note: hiiii, cutie! being a ‘yandere’ means being nice and lovely to others, then showing your true, possessive side. sometimes yandere character uses physical or verbal violence to show their feelings. they can also be very jealous, but they does it all out of love and the will to protect their loved one. i’ve already written a few things with yandere characters from ‘death note’! you can see them here; click, click & click. have a nice day/night, ily!

— MIHAEL

↘ At the beginning, sex with Mihael was really tender, calm and super lovely. Maybe it was because of your young age, and also because of your shyness, ‘cause it was your first relationship, but after a long time you could afford more in bed. Definitely more than other people.

↘ The kisses themselves were joined by strong bites or hickeys, instead of praising you, Mello was pulling your hair or spanking you on the already red, bruised ass. There were also moments where you were fucking all night long in different places in your apartment, and then you fell on the bed in your room with exhaustion, without even having the strength to take a shower or make a dinner.

↘ Mello is definitely the type who will find a good reason to have sex with you; most often the rough, jealous, consent sex, or that one special kind in which he’ll show others that you are his and only his.

↘ Someone accosted you at a party? Mihael will fuck you in the club bathroom so hard that the whole main hall will hear your screams and loud moans. Someone asked for your phone number when you were at the gallery? Definitely when you two get home, the twenty-year-old will push your body against the wall and then tell you to get down on your knees. Did you ignore him and write with your bestie on the phone? He’ll take you from behind on the carpet and call you the worst whore who doesn’t listen to him.

↘ He’s the dominant type and loves to give you orders; he likes to punishment you when you make a mistake, but he also likes when you be submissive and respectful to him.

↘ Mello is a mafioso. He has a huge as fuck kink with you call him ‘boss’ or ‘master’. He definitely wants to use it in your sex life.

↘ If you wear nice lingerie, pretty collars or thigh high socks and you’ll name him by these word(s), he will be very happy and give you the best sex ever. Maybe he will even stroke your head or bring you a little gift the next day. Who knows?

↘ If you upset him too much, Mihael will definitely use the gun to calm you down quickly and effectively. He will unlock it and attach it to your neck or temple, telling you how bad and silly you have been.

↘ Adrenaline is booming in your body like never before. He will definitely run the gun over your both collarbones, both nipples, and stomach as well.

↘ You will also cum harder when the gun barrel touches your wet sex.

↘ He loves to humiliate you during sex or sexual activities and portray you as a person who wouldn’t be able to life without him. Mello loves calling you his ‘fuckdoll’ or ‘cockslut’. Your cheeks are always flushed when he talks to you like this. Maybe it’s degrading, but you love it anyway.

↘ He’s not good at aftercare, but he’ll probably give you a towel or a wet handkerchief so you can wipe your face from his cum or your thighs wet from your own orgasm. But don’t feel that he will do something more. It’s not his style.

— NATE

↘ Sex with Nate was, is and definitely will always be calm and affectionate. Both of you don’t like to rush and tire. However, making love for him is a form of reward and fun. It’s a canon that he’s a big brat and likes to tease you when the situation is right for it.

↘ I mean, even if you do deserve something, you don’t have to get it, yeah? Near is the one who decides if you get his dick, fingers or tongue or not. You have nothing to say here.

↘ As for teasing and upsetting you; he loves to do it in public.

↘ For example: when you are on a date in a cafe, when his subordinates are around, when you talk with family or friends on the phone and talk about your day or plans for the next weeks.

↘ Nate will touch your smooth hand, your thigh, kiss your ear, maybe even bite it lightly with his teeth. When you ignore it or turn away from him, he’ll do more to get your attention.

↘ For another example, he will pull your hand and you will land on his warm lap.

↘ You won’t even notice the moment when his cock will rub against your pulsating hole. It doesn’t matter if you’re in a coffee shop, if Gevanni or Lidner are in front of his desk, or that you’re talking to your mother about a recipe for a pear pie. It absolutely doesn’t matter because Nate is just going inside you very deeply, touching a sensitive g-spot which causes a low groan from you.

↘ Aside from public or semi-public sex, Near loves to tease you in many other ways.

↘ I mean, refusing you to orgasm or giving you too much of them; it depends on his mood and day.

↘ If he’s denial you to have an orgasm, you definitely said something stupid or did something that made his work longer. During sex or fingering, he will ask you some questions or statements like, ‘Are you sure that you deserved it?’, ‘But you were bad for me, do you really think that you can cum?’ or ‘Give me one reason why I should let you cum.’. He’s so mean and insensitive when he’s upset... It’s a hecking pain.

↘ However, if you’ve been good and he has a good day/evening, he will eat you out as if he hasn’t eaten anything for the last two years. His tongue penetrates your tight walls so well, explores your soft skin, matches with your own tongue. He’s a great giver.

↘ But she also likes to receive. After all, there’s nothing better than giving him a blowjob under his desk while he’s doing important business over the phone or sends e-mail to other task forces. He’ll lightly grab your hair or squeeze your cheek saying how sweet and beautiful you are with his cock in your mouth or hands.

↘ He gives you cute nicknames like ‘my baby’, ‘my pure kitten’ or ‘my lovely facedoll’. You also like to praise him (another canon, wbk), but he does it more often because you are sometimes unable to say a single word.

↘ He doesn’t really understand the idea of aftercare, but from time to time he will suggest you a bath or shower with him. You will definitely appreciate it and repay with a back massage or cooking something tasty for the next day.

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

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Hey love❤ sending you all my love and sooo many hugs, I hope the week flies by so quickly for all of you guys (and puppies!). If you feel like it, we can replay M's route together and scream about all those different (or not) scenes we are going to get ❤ I always play TWC in silence and I often miss the power of fandom when it comes to experiencing the pain lmao (I play A's and M's route the most so the pain. is. Everywhere.) Or we can do literally anything else hahaha I can send you my fav twc fics on ao3 because there truly is some pure gold hidden there. Love you!!!❤❤❤

Omg ter yes please to everything!!! Sounds so so fun, ily for offering and just love you in general ❤️

I am missing M so bad lately ☹️ honestly, I haven’t gotten into A’s route 🙊 I love Mason and Nate and would give anything for a love triangle between them and Detective.

#terr 💓#amazing friends #askboxed

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cybernetikal-blog · 7 years

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&&. @twincuts liked for a starter.

rhys is only on his third drink and he’s feeling pretty good, the light feeling in his veins thrumming all the way down to his toes. there’s warmth inside and out charging him up as he slides into a stool at the bar, flagging down the bartender with his flesh hand ( less - harsh than the metal one ), grinning wide and happy.

things are working out for him, and he’s here to celebrate, tonight. to celebrate the first, mostly successful week of his fancy new internship, to celebrate the fact that he graduates from college in three months, and to celebrate the fact that he has no goddamn reason to be sober tonight, in the words of vaughn and yvette, who are... somewhere. he can find them, probably. yeah.

when the bartender finally ambles his way, rhys leans forward over the bar, just a little, to be better heard over the noise around them. it’s pretty packed. “Can I get -- a rum and coke? That’s what businessmen drink in the movies, right?”

#the intern ( modern )#hey my name is nate and this is jackass #i threw this into my modern verse to make things easier for you #bc i know u know nothing about borderlands #anyway ily #i know i said these starters would be short but im always lookin for an excuse to write with u so w/e right

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oneletteredwondered · 4 years

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Odd

Logan's first day of public school.

Minor warning for some brief bullying.

Addams family au, based off this picture and au by @misplaced-my-notes hey ily.

The long black car pulls up to the blue gates of the public school. Children are running about all directions inside the property, yelling and screaming. Some are sitting on the dirty ground smacking their hands together in some strange ritualistic pattern. There are adults standing on the outskirts keeping careful watch in case someone gets hurt.

Logan stares out the window with his messenger bag over one shoulder. There's a notebook on his lap for the express purpose of taking notes on the other children. He twists his suit jacket in his hands.

Logan is not intimidated.

"Thank you for the ride, Thing," Logan says. The disembodied hand on the steering wheel scutters and turns to face him. It bounces once and raises a finger. Logan huffs.

"I am not nervous." He says, purposefully unclenching the hem of his jacket. Thing bounces twice. Logan deigns not to answer it.

He exits the car, taking a second to make sure his outfit is wrinkle free and shuts the door. He thanks Thing one more time through the open window and begins to make his way up to the blue gates. He has a pen in his notebook at the ready.

He's scribbling notes as he walks, peering over the top of his notebook at the other students. They are so different from him. It's to be expected when under the assumption they have been in public school for their whole lives while Logan has been home schooled for his.

His first observation is that the other students have more finite social skills, moving from person to person with a simple question but not taking the time to really get to know them. Base level acquaintances by definition but he hears the word friend be tossed around. None of them exhibit the requirements for 'friends' in his opinion.

"Question if I may," he approaches a group of girls in the sand. They look to each other then back at him. He marks down silent communication on his pad of paper to explore later.

"I observed you putting your hands together. What is the benefit to that?" He asks. The girls once again give each other looks that Logan can't decipher.

"You mean patty-cake?" One finally says. Logan writes that down.

"It's a game." Another says but this time the tone isn't nice or questioning, but bordering on rude. Logan finds them staring at him with creases near their eyes.

"What benefit does it serve?" He asks anyway.

"Do you not play games?" And then they are laughing and he doesn't know why. Logan is confused. He does not like being confused. Further more, he does play games. Just last week he and his Uncle Remus played how many light bulbs does it take to to short circuit his nervous system. 37. His brother Remy filmed the whole thing for their next family reunion.

It doesn't matter because the girls get up and walk away from him, one of them smacking his notebook to the dirt and laughing again. It's rude. Logan picks it up and shakes the dirt off. He feels a burning on his face.

A new feeling he is not a fan of.

A bell rings and Logan plainly follows the teachers rules to find his designated classroom.

He spends the next hour ignoring the teacher and detailing the interaction, trying to figure out the nuances of what he did to get the girls to act unkindly. He comes up with nothing, which is more frustrating than he cares to admit.

He spends the next hour after that arguing with the teacher about Christopher Columbus because they have wildly different accounts of what he did to the world. In the end, Logan has something called a detention and one of his classmates is crying because he talked about murder. He was simply trying to inform them of the truth.

Logan does not pout.

During the scheduled lunch period Logan spends the time alone at a table, writing notes about the hidden groups within groups at each table. It's not until the hour is almost up that he realizes the other children are whispering and looking at him, and it doesn't look nice either.

This is proven as when the period ends, someone snags his notebook, holding it over their head where Logan can't reach without looking undignified jumping for it.

"What are you writing about you weirdo?" They taunt. Logan just stands and stares at them. Without his notebook he begins to details his observations out loud.

"Taller male uses his height against others. Perhaps a tactic learned at home. Possibly used to try and seem more likable by his peers. Uses physical attributes as they are certainly lacking in the intellectual department." Logan places a hand to his chin in thought, circling the student who took his book. A small crowd of students forms around them.

"What did you just say to me?" They ask dumbly. Logan sighs.

"My apologies, I didn't realizes your critical thinking skills were so severely missing. I said you are not smart so you try to be liked by being stronger than others." The bully stares at Logan angrily. Logan stares back. Suddenly the bully shoves the notebook back into his hands.

"Mr Saga! He called me stupid!" The bully points a finger at him accusatory. Logan gapes.

"I did not! I called you severely lacking in intelligence. There’s a difference!"

"Mr Addams." An authoritative voice comes from behind him. Logan turns to see a teacher looking disapproving back at him.

"Come with me Mr Addams." They say. Logan follows plainly, turning to glare at the bully as they look smugly back at him. It's then that Logan realizes they planned their words and got Logan in trouble on purpose. How rude.

Logan writes that down.

He gets a small lecture from the teacher about how it's impolite to call someone stupid, which Logan clarifies, again, he did not, in fact, call any one stupid. The teacher just sighs.

"Since this is your first day and you're coming from being home schooled, I'll let you off with a warning, try to not let it happen again." Mr Saga says. Logan narrows his eyes but agrees for the time being.

He exits the classroom to find another student leaning against the walls beside the door. They perk up seeing him, waiting for him. They wear a flowy blue skirt and there's a white bow in their unruly curly hair. They give Logan a bright smile.

"Hi." They say first.

"Salutations." Logan says back. The other giggles and Logan isn't sure what they found funny.

"I just wanted to say I thought it was cool the way you stood up to Nate like that. He holds things over people's heads a lot." They inform him. Logan makes a note in his book as he walks, the other student falling in line with him.

"What are you writing down?" They ask. Logan studies them for a second, trying to figure out their motive. They just smile softly at him behind their round glasses.

"I am detailing the differences from being home schooled to those who have been in public schools." The other makes an 'oh' noise.

"Actually if I may, might I inquire some insight from you?" Logan stops in the middle of the hallway, his walking partner stops as well. They nod their head happily, swaying back and forth.

Logan details the conversation he had earlier with the girls in the sand, confusion apparent as he is unsure what he did to make them treat him like that. His new friend giggles again. It doesn't sound mean at all and a part of Logan wishes to detail the noise in his book.

"It's not uh, common, to ask questions like that, so they uh, probably, just acted mean cause they didn't know what else to do." Well. Even if they didn't sound sure, it's a better explanation than Logan could come up with. He details the theory in his book.

"My name's Patton by the way!" The student says. Logan holds out his hand. Patton blinks at it.

"Logan Addams," Logan introduces himself. Patton still hasn't shook his hand. Logan shifts awkwardly.

"It's polite to take my hand," he tries to explain. At that Patton grins wide and takes his hand. But he doesn't shake his hand proper, instead he squeezes it and doesn't let go.

Logan sputters and suddenly Patton is dragging him through the hall, telling Logan all about the strange slapping hand ritual from earlier. It's a game of some kind apparently, made for the pure fact to be fun and sometimes challenging with no purpose otherwise. Logan does his best to remember these details but Patton's hand is warm in his and it's very distracting.

Warm. Not like the burning of earlier where he felt sad and angry. This is soft warmth that makes him flustered and.. happy? Patton guides them to class, making some excuse about getting lost. The class laughs at their misfortune but Patton shrugs it off, so Logan figures it's best to do so as well.

He decides not to speak during class, writing and writing all the information Patton provided to him down. It's important for research, nothing else.

At the end of the day Patton is by his side again, walking him out the front gates and chatting aimlessly about seemingly nothing. They wait together for a while, cars moving in a line to pick up the kids. A long sleek black car is last in line.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" Patton calls, beginning to step away.

"Do you have a guardian coming to collect you?" Logan asks curiously not really wanting their conversation to end. Patton is.. willing to talk to him.. and provide valuable commentary. That's all. Patton shakes his head to the question.

"I live with my grandma just a few minutes from here, so I just walk home," he explains. Logan swallows a lump in his throat.

"Would you care for a ride home then? As thank you for being helpful to me today." He adds quickly. It doesn't stop Patton from beaming at him and that causes something downright strange to happen to Logan's stomach.

"Thanks Lolo," He says and Logan is so caught up in that something he's barely coherent when he opens the door to the car for Patton like a gentleman, and Patton screams.

"THERE'S A HAND!" He yelps, skittering to hide behind Logan and pointing over his shoulder into the car. Thing taps the wheel hard.

"Yes of course there's a hand." Logan says plainly.

"Its name is Thing, its my family's house keeper." Logan goes on, sliding into the car. Patton looks between Logan and Thing with very clear fear in his eyes. He slowly slides in beside Logan and closes the door.

"Can it.. uh, actually drive?" Patton's voice squeaks.

"He is the safest driver in our family." The car moves and Patton is frozen still and not talking as they pull out of the the school lot. He barely manages to give directions to his home. Logan isn't sure what happened. Patton was so.. cheerful a moment ago. Logan fiddles with the hem of his suit then reaches over to give Patton's hand a squeeze like Patton did for him earlier in the day.

Whatever it does, it works, as Patton begins to smile at him again and Logan finds himself smiling back, but just a little. Patton is relaxed by the time they pull up to a small cottage styled house.

"Thanks for the ride Logan, uh.. Thing?" Thing lifts a finger in a wave and Patton waves a finger back at it, a giggle slipping out. Logan ends up staring unable to look away. There's that noise again, the one that he wants to document and hold onto and hear again and again. What is wrong with him?

"See you tomorrow Logan," Patton says impossibly soft and he's looking at Logan so nicely and Logan manages a quick 'bye' and the door closes. Logan scoots to the window and watches as Patton enters his home.

Thing begins the drive back home. It taps the steering wheel.

"It was fine," Logan says curtly, hands crinkling his notebook on his lap. He thinks back over the day and he ends up warm again thinking about Patton and that strange thing happens to his stomach again.

Once home Logan wastes no time in heading to the moonroom in the back of the house. The sides of the room are all glass, but thick black curtains cover them while the sun is up, only opening when the moon is high in the sky. It's filled with plots of rose thorns, the petals and bulbs scattered all over the floor so when his parents waltz they swirl around them.

His father is there, wearing something long and black, a swirling shadow around his neck as he reads from a large tome with witch words written on the inside. There’s a pendant in his hand that sways as he walks the room. His skin is deathly pale and cold, but still manages to give comforting hugs when called for.

"Father," Logan says when he enters. The shadow thing around his father's shoulder puffs into nothingness and takes its rightful resting place under his father's eyes.

"Logan dear, how was your first day at the public school?" Virgil asks, taking a seat at one of the long tattered benches in the room. He pats the seat beside him and Logan goes to sit by him.

"I believe myself to be ill." Logan tells him plainly. Virgil gasps and goes to touch his forehead.

"Did one of the other school children give you a pox? Your Uncle Remus would love to experience it with you." Virgil says. Logan pushes his hand off. Holding his father's hand doesn't feel the same as holding Patton's he notices bitterly.

"I do not think any of them were sick to my knowledge but I am feeling.. Odd." He settles on. Virgil tsks sadly. When Logan had announced he wanted to attend the public school to study the other kids, Virgil had encouraged his brilliant mind.

His son confided that it's not that he didn't love his father's lessons on the occult or his padre's lessons with the sword, but this is an experiment all on it's own, one he got to do all on his own. Seeing his child so distraught about something they were so excited about is distressing.

Virgil looks up as his husband enters the room, giving him a pointed look towards their son. Roman flicks the ashes of his cigar into one of the potted plants and takes a seat on the other side of Logan.

"What ever is the matter son?" Roman asks. He takes one more puff of his cigar and tosses it. One of the plants jerk up to eat it. Virgil glares at him because they have discussed it's not healthy for the plants to be smoking yet.

Logan recounts his day for his parents, flipping through his notebook as he does. Virgil and Roman are attentive, nodding approvingly to Logan's banter with the teacher about the misinterpretation about Chris Columbus, and Roman laughs heartily when Logan explains how he never actually called someone stupid. He has way better insults that stupid anyway.

"And then Patton, he-" Logan cuts off his words with a pout, feeling that strange feeling again. Virgil plays with his hair comfortingly.

"Is Patton a good one or a bad one?" He asks.

"He's good." Logan says quickly. Roman raises his eyebrows at that. He and Virgil share a questioning look over Logan's head.

"He's good, but he- he makes me feel weird. He makes me feel sickly." Logan explains.

"Even though he's good?" Virgil asks. Logan nods but he doesn't look happy about it.

"He's sweet and kind and explained some of the social instances for me." Logan swallows hard.

"He makes my chest feel like it's constricting. Shortness of breath isn't healthy and while talking to him I almost stuttered which is concerning for my brain scan last week did not have any abnormalities." Logan had been upset about the lack of abnormalities, but now he's more upset cause if there were, then at least he'd have a working theory of the cause of this sudden feeling.

He's hugged on both sides by his parents and even though he's still confused it does make him feel slightly better.

"Maybe we should meet your new friend?" Roman asks. Logan stiffens, then nods. The word friend echoes in his head. Are he and Patton friends? It is something he is going to have to inquire about. He hops off the bench and heads to his room, finishing what little homework he has, then proceeding to electrocute his brother until his eyes are glowing blue.

And he takes time to think about Patton. He used a full page in his book to try and document his laugh. He feels odd for sure but not bad. He will have to conduct more experiments he decides, almost smiling at the idea of spending more time with his.. new friend, and the experiments of course.

"Ah, young love," Roman laments back in the moonroom. He takes Virgil's hand and kisses up his arm to his lips. Virgil allows the affection.

"He doesn't realize it yet though," Virgil chides. Roman just smirks at him.

"He will figure it out eventually. He takes after you in that regard." It's teasing and Virgil pushes him away and stands. Roman is quick on the upkeep, chasing to catch Virgil by the waist and pull him into a dip.

"You mustn't tell him," Virgil says hanging from Roman's arms. "You know how he gets when the answer is spoiled for him." Roman pulls Virgil back to standing, twirling him around the room, rose petals dancing at their feet.

"I have full confidence in our little mad scientist," Roman says with a dashing smile. Virgil returns it with a smirk.

"Just like you have full confidence with me?" He's teasing. Roman lights up.

"Is that a dare my darling?" He leans in. Virgil laughs dark and low, gripping Roman by the lapels of his white suit.

"It's a threat," he whispers against Roman's lips. A pleasant shiver runs through Roman as he kisses his husband quiet, knowing the feelings tormenting Logan will come to light all on their own.

And when Logan finally invites Patton over, and the soft boy screams at Virgil's pet spider, giving Athena the fear she deserves and hasn't had in such a long time, and Logan spends an hour comforting him, both Virgil and Roman decide Patton is good, and that Logan has made an excellent choice for a friend.

AN: So I wrote this and then after saw OP artist put Emile as Uncle Fester... so I'm claiming creative liberties with making Remus Uncle Fester because a) he and Roman are actual brothers and b) I love him.

#addams family au #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #fic #my post

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