Shadow Kiss
Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader
Genre: Vampire AU, Roommates AU, Smut, Fluff, Comedy
Summary: Supernatural creatures don’t scare you, so when the cute neighbor who lives just across the hallway offers you a chance to move in for cheaper rent, you agree in a heartbeat–even when he consumes human blood on a daily basis and making thirst trap videos on TikTok for a living.
Warnings: vampire sex, drunk sex, sex in front of a mirror, blood sucking, unprotected sex, slight choking, swearing, alcohol consumption.
Word Count: 18K (I'm sorry, he's such a diva in this fic, I had to include a lot of his crazy antics 💀)
I'm very proud to announce that this is my first collab with Nokky from @rainbuniart! Thank you for the amazing drawing, baby. I can't wait to see your Vampire Prince Eren fanart next 😍😍😍
Supernatural things don’t really scare you. Growing up in a family that tells urban legends and mystical myths as bedtime stories makes you feel somewhat reserved toward spooky stuff, to the point that you won’t even bat an eyelash during a jump scare at literally any scary movie out there. It’s not like you’ve seen any supernatural creatures with your own eyes but you believe in their existence, especially when you live in a town where freaky things happen on a daily basis.
You’re not sure about werewolves and zombies, but vampires do roam the earth the second the moon replaces the sun. It’s not merely a rumor anymore, it’s a fact. But they keep their presence a secret, trying to act as humanly as possible so they won’t gather unnecessary attention. And since no one has found any dead bodies with bite marks or severe blood loss, people don’t identify them as a threat. You perceive things similarly. As long as they don’t bother you, then you can coexist in peace. That’s what you believe.
So when you visit your neighbor in the middle of the night, the unbelievably hot guy who lives just across the hallway, you figure you’ll see him smiling back, maybe even offer you a cup of coffee out of courtesy. Now, you don’t usually barge into someone else’s apartment even when the front door is unlocked, but seeing how the two of you are already on a first-name basis, always greeting each other with a nod whenever your eyes make eye contact, you think to yourself, Yeah, he wouldn’t mind if I come in, would he? What’s the worst thing that could happen anyway? He’s too cute to be a serial killer. Which, you realize soon enough, was poor, terrible logic on your part.
But you twist open his doorknob with a click and invite yourself in.
So clearly, you did not expect to see him sitting bare-chested on the couch with his girlfriend’s legs hooked around his waist. Clearly, you did not expect to see his hand yanking at the roots of her hair, forcing her to expose the column of her neck and making her call his name in the most wanton moan you’ve ever heard in your life—even if you’ve had a fair share of watching porn movies (for, umm, research purposes). And you most clearly did not expect to see him sinking his canines deep into her skin, paying no mind to the hot, crimson liquid that taint her bare shoulder, and groaning in bliss as he relishes the taste of her blood.
So naturally, the only thing you can think of is:
Oh shit.
“Wait!” A hand finds its way to tangle around your wrist when you slip behind his front door to run back to your apartment. His icy cold skin makes you flinch in surprise but you keep your face still. As you turn around to see the owner, you’re greeted by a pair of red, glowing eyes. You remember precisely that your neighbor, who you assume is in his early twenties, has a pair of emeralds instead of rubies. But perhaps your mind is playing a trick on you because, by the time you blink, they change back to green, only this time, they look darker than the night.
His brunette hair is long enough to cascade down to his shoulders, seeming unbelievably soft and silky as it frames his strong cheekbones. His lips and cheeks are smeared with fresh blood, possibly from trying to wipe his mouth in a haste with the back of his hand. His fangs are no longer shown and although he seems breathless, you can tell he’s not breathing from how still his chest is moving (but you’re too distracted with the sight of how toned it is to care). And his abs… Let’s not talk about his abs, you mentally slap yourself, knowing that you could make a whole PowerPoint presentation to inform the world about how perfect they are. His black jeans are hanging dangerously low on his hips, unbuttoned but not yet unzipped, and it’s harder for you to not stare at his V-lines compared to the amount of blood that painted his lips.
Trying to act nonchalant, you simply ask, “Yes?”
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Oh, so you’re saying you're not a vampire who was drinking blood from your girlfriend’s neck a few seconds ago?”
He gapes, eyes growing wide, before, “Okay, then it is what it looks like.”
You retract your hand, giving him a formal nod. “Cool.”
“Cool?”
“Yeah, as in, no problem.” You nonchalantly shrug. “You've got a kink. I understand.”
“No, I mean—” He pinches the bridge of his nose, somewhat dizzy from your reaction. “Why are you so calm about this?”
Your forehead creases in confusion. “Would you rather have me freaking out and tell our landlord that you’ve been spilling a maiden’s blood on his carpet?”
“Well, no, but—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Also, I’m a professional. I don’t leave stains.”
Your eyes drift down to the carpeted floor underneath him, stained by a few droplets of crimson. “Sure, you don’t.”
The man, catching your gaze, turns flustered. “That was from last night. I was in a hurry.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I haven’t spilled anything today.”
“Congratulations, I’m impressed.” You clap your hands twice, face blank. “Well anyway, I guess I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to sneak into your apartment without permission and disturb your…” You scratch your cheek, attempting to find the right word. “Late night snacking time—”
“Oh, God.” He rubs his palm over his face but before he can protest any further, his lover is calling him from the inside of his room.
“Eren, baby, come back to me. I haven’t cummed yet.”
You stare flatly at him, trying not to look as judgmental as possible but most likely failing terribly at it. “She sounds nice.”
He mirrors the look on your face. “Yeah, well, she tastes nice.”
“Ugh, too much info there, buddy.”
“No, I mean, her blood, not her—” You’re not sure whether vampires can blush but this one surely seems like he can. “Why did you even come here again?”
“Oh, that’s right.” You recall. “This is completely cliche and I wish I could provide a better excuse but I was making coffee and I ran out of sugar. Do you have some I can borrow? And maybe some cream?”
“Seriously?” It’s supposed to be a sarcastic response, but when he sees you nodding your head, he adds, “Do I look like I drink coffee in my spare time?”
“You spend eternity without drinking coffee?” You gasp, laying a hand on your heart. “I feel sorry for you.”
“Leave. Please.”
***
On the next evening, you find yourself crossing the hallway and knocking on his apartment door again. Knowing how patience has never been one of your virtues, you spin his doorknob after your third knock. Like last night, it’s unlocked with a click so you invite yourself in, calling his name.
“Jaeger, are you here—”
“I really need to fix that stupid lock.”
The sound of his voice startles you when he suddenly walks into view, but not as much as the sight of him with a towel hanging around his neck. His long dark hair is pushed back, dripping water to his bare chest. You know you shouldn’t look but that’s exactly what you’re doing, following those droplets as they slide down his navel, soaking the towel he has wrapped around his waist.
He notices you’re staring and he lets you take as much time as you want to marvel at his body. When you come back to your senses, bringing your eyes back to his face, he tosses you a small smirk, “So, how was it?”
“How—“ You clear your throat. “How was what?”
“The experience of running your virgin eyes over my god-like abs.”
You cough once but other than that, you succeed at keeping yourself reticent and unfazed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So, you’re fine seeing me with human blood on my face but completely left in shock when I’m half-naked?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You sound like a robot with the vocabulary of a toddler.
“You do know us vampires can tell when you’re lying, right? We can hear your heartbeat.”
Fantastic. “Oh, yeah, that’s right.” If acting nonchalant doesn’t work, it’s time to bite back with sarcasm—that’s always been your motto. “Because you totally heard me walking into your apartment last night.”
“That—” He clears his throat. “I was… distracted.”
“You mean you were too horny to notice.”
“You—” He let out a harsh breath, perhaps a habit he invented to make him seem more human? “Are you going to visit me every day? ‘Cause I’m gonna have to file a complaint if you are.”
“Can’t I greet my neighbor?” You sweetly ask, batting your eyelashes.
He snorts loudly but walks away, throwing himself on the couch. “Seriously, why aren’t you surprised about this?”
“About you being a vampire? Or about your God awful taste in women?”
“Yeah?” He mocks back, making a face. “As if your boyfriend Armin Arlert is any better.” When he sees you tuck your chin, seemingly mortified, he snickers. “Enlighten me, Princess. How does it feel to have a lover that can only last for one minute during—”
“Okay, I’ll take my words back. Everything. Can we move on, please?” You try to yank yourself back to your normal state, even when you feel downright ashamed. “So, this vampire thing. How long have you been a vampire?”
“Long enough.”
“How old were you when you first turned?”
“Young enough.”
“How often do you drink human blood?“
“Often enough.”
You glare at him, earning a sly grin in return. “You’re not taking me seriously, are you?”
He sends you the best solemn expression he can manage, even when his lips are itching to form a smirk. “Serious enough.”
“Right, okay, I’m leaving. Have fun being an asshole for eternity.”
But the second you pivot in your heels, Eren is already on the other side of the room. His superhuman speed startles you, almost knocking you off your balance. Closing the front door, Eren leans his back against it. “Now, now,” he croons, tilting his head, “You come in as you please, uninvited. You don’t think I’ll let you go just like that, do you?”
You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you want?”
“I think it’s something that we both want.” He steps closer, his husky voice turning smooth and alluring. “You know what I’m talking about, right?”
You gulp, suddenly becoming nervous. He’s an arms reach away, and then closer, and closer until you can feel his cold fingers tracing against your cheekbone. He lifts your face, locking his striking green eyes with yours and you swear, you see them glow.
“I’m—” You can feel your breathing stutter. “I’m not giving you my blood.”
“But it’s not blood that I want from you.” His eyes are hooded, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about this lately, so much that I could barely think about anything else.”
Your heart is a ticking bomb inside your chest. “A-about what?”
He pulls back his lips, showcasing a pair of white fangs that petrifies you at once. He dives his head, the tip of his canines grazing against the supple skin of your neck before he shifts closer to your ear and he whispers.
“About our rent. Do you want to move in together so we can split the rental fee?”
***
It’s both ridiculous and dumb, his offer to move in together for cheaper rent, so it’s even more ridiculous and dumb when you agree to it. Several reasons make sense, actually—at least, to you anyway: 1) your neighbor may be a vampire but he’s super hot and although that doesn’t make everything okay, it does make his offer sound incredibly tempting, 2) your landlord is going to raise the rent in the following two months, 3) your part-time job’s salary can only cover so much of your living cost and you have no savings whatsoever, 4) if you can ignore the fact that he brings random girls at night for midnight snacks, he becomes much, much more attractive.
Of course, there are risks to think about as well. Sharing a place with another person can be a hassle, so you can only imagine how problematic it would be to share your home with a vampire. What if he loses control? What if he gets too thirsty and starts drinking from you instead?
You swallow hard. The thought of it is actually kind of… sexy.
Armin. You mentally slap yourself in the head. You have a boyfriend, you idiot. Stop having a crush on your damn neighbor.
But it's not like there is anything serious going on with Armin, is it? You guys were just lab partners in high school, went on a couple of dates, had a terribly awkward first kiss, had a heavy make-out session with him ejaculating under one minute when you dry-humped him on the couch of your living room and that’s it. You like him, he likes you, but yeah, nothing serious.
“My apartment or yours?” You ask Eren after a week has passed by, the second he opens his door for you. “Your apartment is bigger, but mine is cleaner.”
“Whatever you want, Princess,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I don’t mind as long as we can split the fee.”
“Yeah, why is that? You’re running out of money?”
His smirk instantly falters. It takes him a few seconds before he answers in chagrin, "Yeah."
"You've been alive for what, centuries? And you're still broke?"
Your judging tone makes him tighten his jaws. “Well, it’s not exactly easy for vampires to get a job these days.”
“You literally have superhuman skills.”
“Well, you guys have technology!” He throws his hands in the air, absolutely disgusted with the word by the sight of it. “And the Internet! Sure, I can run pretty fast, I have super hearing and super strength—hell, I can see in the dark too but these fucking technologies can do literally everything I’m capable of—and everything I’m not capable of—with only a few clicks! Do you think that’s fair? For me, an eight hundred-year-old vampire, to be pushed aside like this by a goddamn remote? And what is that thing you guys do on your phones where you dance to random songs and do things like taking off your shirt— ”
“You mean TikTok?”
“YES!” He exclaims dramatically with his head thrown back. “I fucking hate that thing! Back in my days, we needed to use flattery and gold and gifts to win a lady’s heart—not me, though, have you seen this face?” His cocky smirk returns for a few seconds to make a point before he starts raging again. “But look at them now! They just took off their clothes and they got hundreds of girls saying, Mmm, Daddy, spit in my mouth and call me a whore—how is that fair?! I also want to spit in a girl’s mouth and call her a whore without having her file a restraining order against me!”
Never in your life would you have thought that you’d see a vampire complaining about TikTok’s thirst traps with his cheeks puffing out in anger, but here you are. “Do you need a hug?”
He’s still pouting but he weakly shrugs. “Yeah, okay.”
“There, there.” You give him a pat on his back as he leans down so you can reach his height. “I’ll teach you how to make a thirst trap video someday, how about that?”
He nods like a child. “Promise?”
“Promise.” You pull away, squeezing his shoulders. “Don’t worry, you’ll get through this. So, about moving in together. Shall we talk about house rules and stuff?”
“Sure, but before that,” he sweetly smiles, opening his door wider for you. “Come in. I won’t bite.”
It’s something about him using that poor choice of words with that teasing smirk on his face that makes your stomach feel uneasy but you nod and let yourself in. As he closes the door, he adds, “Unless that's what you’re into.”
“Getting my blood drunk by a vampire?” You scoff, trying to steady your racing heart though he can probably tell already. “Why would it be something I’m into?”
“Well, my ladies surely enjoyed it,” he chuckles and you secretly think to yourself, yeah because you’re fucking hot, that’s why, but you keep yourself ignorant on the outside. “But if you’re ever curious,” he coos, eyes gleaming as he snatches a hair tie from his wrist, pushes his bangs back with one hand, and ties his hair up messily in a bun. “I’m down anytime you want.”
You shudder, but from disgust or excitement, you’re not sure. “Thanks, but no thanks. So, house rules?”
***
It turns out to be shockingly easy to share an apartment with an undead creature of the night. Your source of information regarding vampires is from the collection of your young adult supernatural novels, ranging from something serious like Interview with The Vampire to something mediocre like The Vampire Diaries, and something absolutely ridiculous and downright outrageous like Twilight. So it’s not really surprising when your first assumption of vampires are dead people who look unusually pale but strikingly attractive, have constant frowns on their faces as they brood over literally everything that’s happening as if they’re constipated all the time (they’re not since vampires don’t have that bodily function anymore) and kill people in their spare time by sucking their blood dry.
But Eren isn’t like that at all. At one point, you have to remind yourself that he’s a vampire who's lived for 845 years and not a brat going through puberty.
Because Eren isn’t pale, his skin is tan as if he was kissed by the sun when he has been hiding from it his whole life. It’s smooth, unscarred, and almost golden under the fluorescent light of your apartment.
He’s not heartless either. He cried (he wouldn’t admit it but he did) when he watched Hachiko, even when the dog owner was still alive and well. He kept shouting to the screen, “Bad shit is going to happen. Bad shit is going to happen to the dog—look how cute that dog is—look just how fucking cute he is—he doesn’t deserve any pain—if this dog dies by the end of the movie, I will combust!" By the end of the movie when the dog died (oops spoiler alert), Eren was bawling his eyes out, coughing and choking and everything. At one point, he even said, “Fuck, I feel like I’m about to throw up my intestines.”
“Chill, dude. It's just a movie.”
“THEY SAID IT WAS BASED ON A TRUE STORY, YOU COLD-BLOODED WITCH!”
So the thought of him killing someone by sucking their blood dry? Seems very unlikely.
And he’s not broody or angry all the time. Yes, Eren has quite a temper, but he’s extremely playful and annoyingly mischievous. He keeps his stock of blood in empty bottles of red wine and places them inside the fridge with a handwritten note that says: “It’s really just wine, Princess. I bought some as a housewarming gift. Come take a sip.” You did, once, out of curiosity, and from that day on you promised yourself that you would never trust his words ever again for as long as you live.
Being a monster, he should’ve been the cause of people’s fear, but in reality, Eren gets startled easily by a lot of things—even the things that shouldn’t scare a baby. You will never forget the day when a loud crash came thundering from his room, two seconds before he came barging into yours, screaming, “THERE’S A COCKROACH FLYING IN MY ROOM!”
“And what did you do?”
“I THREW THE TV AT IT BUT THAT FUCKING THING STILL LIVES!”
“What?! But that’s our TV!”
“IT WAS FLYING TO MY FACE AND I PANICKED—WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”
Even a butterfly that sneaks in from the window makes him jump on his feet. It was cute the first two times it happened, but seeing how he keeps on throwing random things—your phone, included—to keep the bugs away, you probably should start adding another house rule.
Speaking about rules, they’re pretty basic. It’s settled that you’ll both do your cleaning separately. No borrowing things without permission, no spending too much time in the bathroom because although he doesn’t need to go to the toilet, Eren enjoys drawing himself a warm bubble bath for hours. He'd do the most cliche things too, like putting Michael Bublé’s songs on speaker, taking a sip of his ‘red wine’ and calling it the perfect “Bublé Bath.” Now, you might think he would look fancy when he does it. His beautiful long hair grazing his shoulders; the colorful bubbles (yes, he’s using rainbow bath bombs) doing a poor, poor job at hiding his God-like body; his tongue running across his lower lip to wipe the blood before it dribbles down his chin, maybe even a sight of his fangs peeking out behind his devilish smirk. H-O-T. But it turns out that’s not the case.
Imagine walking into the bathroom to find a vampire chilling inside your tub, his legs draping on the edge, his fist curling in the air as if he was holding an invisible microphone in his hand. He'd have his eyes closed as he belted out his high notes, passionately singing, "Let me go homeeeeeeee" as if he was auditioning for a lead role in Mamma Mia. This is what you have to deal with every Sunday morning.
And you’re fine with him bringing girls over to your place as long as he does his midnight snacking in his own room. You were against it at first, but then you figure that you’re going to have Armin in your room from time to time too (your date night is cheaper this way) so you really don’t have the right to forbid him.
But man, if only you could take your words back.
Because when Eren said his ladies surely enjoyed it when he drank from them, you didn’t think that they would enjoy it this much. And you didn’t think that drinking blood from a human equals having sex with them all night long.
The sound of “Aah, yes, fuck me just like that,” and “Bite me again, Eren, please, I want you to bite me just as hard as you fuck me,” can be heard coming endlessly from his bedroom whenever he brings a girl over—sometimes even two at the same time. You have to plug your AirPods into your ears to tone down your suffering, blasting the volume to the max until you can literally feel your ears turn deaf. Even when you’ve pulled your pillow over your head, you can still hear them. Your apartment has excellent sound-proofed walls so your neighbors don’t really hear the loud screeches they’re making, but for you who sleeps in your bed just across the living room? A living hell.
Fortunately, it doesn’t happen every day. It doesn’t happen every week, even, since he always keeps some stocks of blood in the fridge.
“Did you take this blood from those girls?” You grimaced one night, as you opened your refrigerator to slide in your leftover and noticed three huge bottles of red wine filled up to the brim.
He laughed, waving a hand. “Of course not, stupid. How could I even do that in the first place? I bought some blood bags from the hospital, obviously.” He was sitting on the couch before but when he delivered his next line, he suddenly stood behind you, lips hovering dangerously close to your ear. “And just in case you’re wondering,” you could feel his smirk grazing your earlobe. “I only drink directly when I want to have sex.”
The heat was spreading almost immediately to your cheeks so you hid it by throwing a punch to his stomach, which he easily dodged. “Still,” you complained, “There’s blood in my fridge.”
“Hey, I never complain when you keep your celery juice in there.” He scrunched his nose in disgust. “I don’t eat or drink human foods, but who the fuck drinks celery juice?”
***
Eren is also quite passionate and it shows whenever he talks about something that he likes or intrigues him. It’s nice to have someone to fill the silence, moving from one random topic to another, never letting an awkward pause stretch out for too long. But he can also be exceptionally annoying when you have some paperwork to do and he’s bothering you because he’s bored out of his mind. He’ll start pestering you with questions—unimportant questions—like, “If you only have one eye, are you blinking or winking?” Or “Why is it that when you are sleeping it’s called drool but when you are awake it’s called spit?” And the stupidest of them all, “Why did Superman wear his briefs on the outside of his tights?”
And you’ll eventually start to lose it, throw a pillow to his face and yell, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!”
But by the end of the day, it’s really fun to have him around. Not just because you can secretly enjoy the sight of him coming out of your shared bathroom with only a towel hanging low around his hips, but also because he’s a vampire and you can spend your time doing actual research about it.
“So,” you began one day after the sun had sunk below the horizon and he crawled out of his room with the biggest bird’s nest on his head. You had a romance novel on your lap, your fingers running through the pages. “Are you like an actual vampire or are you the romanticized, somewhat gay vampire they usually depict in books?”
“Well, I’ve been with a few men before but I still prefer women better.” He took a seat beside you on the couch, laying his feet on the coffee table. You kind of just stared at him, not exactly judging his words, just… bewildered. Noticing the look on your face, he added, “When you’ve lived for a century, you gotta learn how to keep things interesting, even if that means having a dick in your mouth.”
“That’s…” You swallowed. “Not exactly something I want to imagine.”
"You've never had a dick in your mouth? That's sad."
"I meant, imagining you."
"Oh." His devilish smirk returned. “You should, though. Try picturing me with your boyfriend Armin for a sec. Don’t we look cute together?” You had to look away when he wiggled his eyebrows at you. You just had to. “Actually, I don’t care what their biological sex, gender, or gender identity is,” Eren shrugged. “As long as they’re pretty and not hairy, I’ll sleep with them.”
“You’re okay with all genders but you can’t handle pubic hair?”
“No, I meant, hairy. Like a werewolf.”
“You’ve slept with a werewolf?!” You gaped. “I didn’t know they even existed!”
“Yep, not doing that again.” He shuddered at the memory. “I had fur in my butthole because of that.”
“You know there are things you can share, and there are things you should bring to your grave. That last one is the latter.”
“Sorry, can’t do that. You see, I don’t have a grave.”
He didn’t have one, true, but you were so tempted in making one for him right then. “So, these vampire books you said you read,” Eren went back to the previous topic after cackling for a whole ten seconds at the aggravated look on your face. “How do they depict us exactly?”
“You’ve never read one?”
“Have you ever read any books about humans written by vampires?”
“Fair point. Well, it said that vampires couldn’t see themselves in the mirror.”
“Myth,” he replied, leaning his head against the couch. “I can see myself in the mirror and I like seeing myself just as much as you do whenever I come out of the bathroom.”
You almost choked on the cinnamon cookie you just ate. “Excuse me?!” You coughed, eyes starting to get a little teary. “Who said I like looking at you?”
“You don’t?” The way his eyes twinkled made you a little bit weak. A puckish grin grew apparent on his face. “You sure about that?”
You cleared your throat, flipping another page of your book. “Next question,” you continued, ignoring the soft laugh he emitted. “Do garlic, holy water, and silver scare you?”
“They don’t scare me,” he clicked his tongue, vexed by the way you composed your words. “I just don’t like them.”
“Right, so that’s a yes. Do you have to be invited in to be able to enter someone’s home?”
He ground his jaw, bitterly muttering, “Yes.”
“Can you read someone’s thoughts?”
“No, but I can tell how they’re feeling through their heartbeat.” His eyes were boring into yours, lips curving upward. “Like you, for example. I can tell that whenever I’m around you, your heartbeat runs just a little bit faster.”
You glanced away, rubbing your nose. “No, it doesn’t.”
“Ah,” he showcased his perfect marbled teeth as he grinned knowingly. “Just like that. Your heartbeat is increasing again. Are you lying to me, Princess?”
“You’re so annoying, you know that?”
“It’s part of my charm.”
“Speaking of that,” you immediately said, knowing it was the perfect chance to avert his attention to another topic. “Can you charm someone?”
“With these looks?” He gestured to his entire body. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.” But when you started scowling at him, he added, “But if you’re talking about mind compulsion, yes, I am able to do that. I can erase and alter people’s memories, even controlling them only by making eye contact.”
“That sounds pretty convenient.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t like doing it.” The sudden change in his attitude left you frowning. He seemed pensive as he fixed his gaze on the ceiling. “I’ve done that many times in the past and I didn’t—” He released a sharp breath, as if talking about it reminded him of something that he loathed about himself. “I hated it.”
You tilted your head to the side, curiosity gnawing at your chest. “What… did you do exactly? If you don’t mind answering.”
His jaw tightened, seemingly conflicted for a couple of seconds before he forced himself to smile. “I do mind, actually.”
“Oh, umm… Sorry.” Eren, like everybody else, had secrets he wished he could keep to himself. And that was fine, you should respect his privacy. But seeing how he had no problems sharing everything else with you made you wonder even more, even slightly worried. Did he trick people to give him their blood? You mused. No, if he only did that, he wouldn’t look this distraught. A hint of dread crawled up your skin. What if he did… something worse? What if he—
“What are you brooding about?” He lightly nudged you with his elbow, tittering. “Relax, I’m not gonna use compulsion on you. Hypnotizing someone to get what I want just doesn’t sit right with me. I want to feel a connection, you know?”
You could tell how much he wanted you both to act casual, pretending like he didn’t say anything weird. Deciding to honor his privacy, you dismissed the matter for now and went back to your regular teasing. “So doing one night stands with vampire groupies is the perfect way to earn that connection, I suppose?”
He had his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he grew both irked and amused at your comeback. “You really know how to attack someone’s pride, huh?”
“Part of my charm,” you mimicked him with a nod. “Okay, next question. Can you die with a wooden stake piercing your heart?”
He rolled his eyes. “Everybody dies with a stake in—what is this, an interrogation?”
“Do churches—”
“Okay, Princess.” He closed your book, his smile stretching widely but it wasn’t enough to reach his eyes. “I think that’s enough. My turn now.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, not entirely pleased with the way he just suddenly changed the direction of your conversation. “What do you want to know?” You indulged him anyway.
He tilted his head, propping his elbow on his thigh, fingers tapping against his cheek as he rested his chin on his palm. Gazing at you intensely, he asked, “Are you a virgin?”
It didn’t take even a split second for your cheeks to turn warm. “T-that’s—What kind of question is that—”
“Ah, so you are.” His smile grew a bit larger, but you weren’t sure whether he was entertained, aroused, or just excited to mock you about it. “Is that why you’ve been staring at me a lot lately? Because you’re curious?”
“For the last time,” you emphasized, though your heart was hammering against your rib cages. “I wasn’t looking at you. I never—”
“You’re adorable when you lie,” he snickered, a lopsided grin painting his face. “Your heartbeat sounds like you just did a marathon. Are you okay?”
You threw your book at him, successfully wiping the smirk on his goddamn perfect face before you raced back to your room.
“Ah, she’s really cute.” Was the last thing you heard him say before you slammed your bedroom door behind you.
***
For a vampire, Eren’s presence is as blinding as the sun, always managing to lift your mood whenever you’re too stressed out about your college assignments or drained from your part-time job. Of course, he’s also the cause of your stress more often than not, but whenever you get into a fight with him—usually because he’s so disorganized and you’re too obsessive to keep everything in order—it doesn’t last long and it always ends up with him making you the best dinner you’ve ever had to compensate for his actions, even when he’s not the one at fault.
Eren doesn’t consume human food but he makes the best cuisine you’ve ever tasted in your life. And the sight of him wearing your apron with his bangs tied to the side using your hairclip is really, really something to behold—which is weird because that obviously doesn’t scream sexy in any way, or masculine even, but it never fails to make your stomach somersault in delight.
“Dinner is served, Milady,” he says, laying down a plate of Spaghetti Aglio e Olio in front of you, making you gawk at the sight. “And it’s special because it contains a lot of garlic—seriously, like a lot. I had to put some gloves on and everything.”
“You’re an angel.” You nearly cry and it’s not an exaggeration. “I can’t believe you did all of this for me.”
“Well, I haven’t really thanked you for covering my rent last month so…”
“It’s fine, you can pay me back later.” You take a hold of your fork, moistening your lips in anticipation, and wasting not a second longer before you dig in. When the cheese melts inside your mouth, you almost moan in joy. “Oh my God, this is so good. I love you.”
He chuckles, suddenly standing behind you, leaning forward so he’s right next to your ear. “Yeah? How much?”
You raise your silver spoon in the air and he immediately leaps to the other side of the kitchen, startled and terrified out of his mind. “Hey, that’s not cool!” He barks. “I thought we'd talked about this!”
Rolling your eyes at him, you take another spoonful of the dish. “Man, you should really make a job out of this,” you comment. He only cooks whenever he feels sorry for you for going through a hard day—whether it was because of him or something else—but if that’s what it takes to have this magnificent cuisine enter your mouth, you don’t mind suffering more often.
“I really should, huh?” He takes a seat on the kitchen counter, his legs dangling a few inches in the air. He ties his hair up in a bun like he always does, with a few strands of his baby hair falling to his temple. “I’m really running low on money.”
“I thought vampires were supposed to be rich and, like, noble.”
“You’re confusing us with Aristocrats.” He grieves. “I used to be filthy rich, actually.”
“And now, you’re like this. What happened? Did you get robbed?” You chuckle to yourself but he’s not laughing. He’s doing that thing again where he turns pensive, his lips squeezed tight as if he was trying to keep his thoughts away from morphing into words. “Sorry, that wasn’t funny.”
“It was kinda funny.” His little smile returns, albeit a bit forced and awkward. “Do you think I can get a night shift at a restaurant downtown?”
“Oh, I actually know a place. I’ll take you there tomorrow.”
“Like on a date?”
You almost drop your fork. “Why do you have to make everything weird?”
His cheeky grin is contagious but you’ve become a master of handling your expression. “I just like seeing you turn all flustered,” he confesses. “Have I told you how cute you are?”
“Today? Not yet,” you mutter as you munch on your food. “Yesterday? Approximately two hundred and thirty-five times.”
“Then I’ll try to break another record today.” He throws you a wink.
“Shut up and let me eat in peace, please.”
***
“Eren.”
“Yes, baby?”
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop posting a goddamn selfie every ten minutes!” You almost throw your phone to his face but since it’ll be a waste, you decide to throw your shoe instead. “I didn’t teach you how to use Instagram for this!”
Eren easily dodges every single thing you’re flinging at him. “Didn’t you tell me to promote my cooking skill? That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
“How does this—” You show your phone’s screen to him, almost smacking him in the face with how fast and hard you’re doing it. You slide your thumb over his Instagram feeds, showing more than fifty different pictures of his close-up face (and he just made that account two days ago, Jesus Christ). “—promote your cooking skill?!”
“But, look,” he guides you, clasping his hand around yours so you’re both holding your phone. He taps from one picture to another. “This is me holding a spatula. This is me boiling water and this is me pouring barbecue sauce—”
“Oh my God.” You almost yank every hair out of your head—or out of his head. “I follow more than four hundred people and all I can see on my timeline is your damn selfies!”
“Correction, my damn cute selfies.” He pecks your cheek. “You’re welcome, Princess.”
But all jokes aside, it actually works. His adorable (and hot) selfies—no matter how bad you hate to admit it—are attracting more followers each day that by the time a week has passed by, he has gained more followers than you have (and you’ve had your account for three years, shame on you).
And in the following two months, he gets his first endorsement deal.
“I can’t believe this,” you say, gaping as you stare over his shoulder to take a glimpse at his phone’s screen, shamelessly reading his direct messages. He’s getting an offer to become a brand ambassador for this little bakery that has a cover photo of a lady with chubby cheeks baking cupcakes. “I can’t believe there are people crazy enough to hire you.”
“Hey, privacy!” He immediately stands up from the couch, covering his screen with his palm. “I could’ve been sending nudes!”
“You’re sending nudes?”
“Well, not my nudes.” He rolls his eyes.
“How is that any better?!”
“Look, I’m busy. I got a gig.” He grins proudly. “I’m on my way to becoming a celebrity, babe. Do you want my autograph now before it’s too late? I could sign your bra if you want. I mean, I’m totally down if you want me to sign your tits, but if you ever think that could be awkward—”
You smack his head with a spatula.
***
“What are you doing?”
You question the vampire the second you push open your bathroom door, catching him in the middle of lifting his shirt in a slow, sensuous manner as he casts a sexy smirk at his camera. He sighs at your presence, yanking his white wifebeater back down before he picks up his phone. “I’m making a thirst trap,” he explains, not even sparing you a glance. “People have been begging me to join TikTok so I made one last week and now I’m trying to reach a thousand followers by Sunday. I only need about a hundred more.”
“By making thirst trap videos?” It’s more like a statement than a question. The disgust in your voice is apparent but he plays ignorant.
"Obviously,” Eren says, tapping his thumb against his screen. Snickering, he adds, “They call me Daddy now.”
“God.”
“I won’t call myself a God, but,” he chuckles, hurling a flirtatious wink. “If that's how you think of me, sure. Also, what do you know about OnlyFans? They want me to make one too.”
“Kill me. Just kill me now and end my suffering. Please.”
“Stop being so dramatic.” He snorts. “Hey, recommend me a song for my thirst trap. I want one that makes me look like I’m the filthiest whore in town.”
“You already look like the filthiest whore in town.”
“Aaw.” He’s flattered. He’s actually flattered. “Thanks, babe. You too.” He puckers his lips, making a kissy face. “Now, enough with the praise. Let’s go back to this. I’m thinking about using Britney’s Gimme More but—”
“Oh my God, Ren, a cockroach!” You point a finger at the marbled floor, shouting as dramatically as possible.
“FUCK—WHERE?!” The second he’s distracted—yelping like a little girl—you jump on your feet, snatching away his phone. “Hey, what are you—”
Dashing toward the front door, you shout back, “I’M BURNING DOWN YOUR PHONE!”
“WHAT—GET BACK HERE!”
***
It’s your first date night after passing nearly half a year without contacting Armin due to him going overseas for his student exchange program, and now that he’s back, you’re nervous for various reasons.
First, you haven’t told Armin you’ve been sharing a place with a guy.
Second, you certainly haven’t told him that this guy is a vampire.
Third, you absolutely in any way cannot tell him that you’ve been secretly crushing on this guy while your boyfriend was away studying.
And last but not least, you know that if anything happens tonight, whether it ends up with you fighting with Armin or finally losing your virginity to him, Eren can hear every single thing.
So you barge into his room, hand laying on the front of his bedroom door as you push it open. “Eren.”
Like always, he’s laying idly on his bed, head almost dangling on the edge of it with his smartphone in his hands. “Yes, baby?”
You sigh, rubbing your temple. “How many times should I tell you? Don’t call me that.”
“You’re not my baby anymore?” He fakes a loud gasp. “I am shocked.”
“Armin is coming over tonight.”
His movements stop abruptly. “I didn’t realize you were still with him.”
“Of course, I am. Why wouldn’t I be? He’s been nothing but sweet to me.”
His eyes lose the mischievous spark he usually displays in them. “And yet, you keep drooling over my body. Can’t say I’m not hurt.”
“I never—” You exhale loudly, throwing your head back. “I’m not going to have this conversation again. He’s coming over tonight to have dinner—”
“But you’re a shitty cook.”
“By dinner, I mean take-outs,” you admit your defeat. “Anyway, I came here to ask you a favor.”
“Princess,” he calls, turning over to his stomach so he can face you without having to see you upside down. “I know I said I wanted to make things interesting, but having a threesome with you and Armin? So suddenly like this? Don’t you think it’s gonna be a little awkward between us? I barely know the dude. You should at least tell me what kind of person he is, whether he likes action movies or romantic ones, whether he blames someone else when he farts—I need to know him before I have his dick in my mouth.”
Talking to him gives you headaches, you should’ve really come prepared. “Are you done?”
“Do you still want me to continue? Okay, well—”
“Shut up, please for the love of God, shut up.” You know you should take your leave before he starts yapping again. “Look, that super hearing thing you have? Can you turn it off just for one night?”
“Sure thing. Click,” he says, snapping his fingers near his ear. “Done. Now I’m deaf.”
You flatly stare at him. “I’m serious.”
“Whaaaaat? I can’t heaaaaar youuuu.”
“Eren!”
He groans loudly, rolling his eyes. “Well, it’s not like my ears have on-and-off buttons I can just switch, okay? What do you want from me?”
He’s right, there’s nothing you can do. “Then, can you leave the apartment for the night?”
He opens his mouth wide, hand going to his chest. “You’re kicking me out of my own apartment? This is heresy!”
“Eren, please!” Great, now you’re stomping your feet like a child. “I just really need some privacy for tonight.”
“Oh, you’re gonna get laid, aren’t you?” He raves mockingly, but his eyes are somewhat cold. “Seriously? With that guy? I think you could do so much better, Princess.”
Vexed, you jeer back, “Yeah? And who do you have in mind? You?”
You’re not sure whether it’s your words or the way you say them that makes his blood boil but his eyes suddenly turn darker, almost glowering at you. It only happens for a second or two before he switches back to his happy-go-lucky self, so you’re not sure if you even see that clearly.
“Well, it’s not my business, is it?” He casually chirps, smiling at you again although something still feels off. “Don’t worry, I won’t eavesdrop on you two. I have a lot of kinks but voyeurism isn’t one of those. You won’t even notice I’m here.”
“You…” Something feels really off with the way he’s acting. It’s like he’s visibly upset but trying to act nonchalant about it at the same time. “You’re sure?”
“You have my words.”
“Okay then.” Whatever it is, you figure you can deal with that later as you’re running out of time for your date. “Well, I’m gonna go take a shower.”
As you shut the door behind you, turmoil starts to fill your chest.
***
Your date with Armin is going well. It’s going so well, even, that you end up lying on your bed, perfectly naked, lips swollen from his kisses. He's hovering above you, both breathless and speechless at the sight of your curves, his sapphire eyes shifting from one spot of your skin to another.
And unfortunately for you, he is also clueless.
Armin has a packet of condoms in his hand, and no matter how embarrassing it is for you, you already have your legs spread on the bed, waiting for him to… well, do whatever it is he’s supposed to do. You always thought that it was okay for you to be clueless about sex because guys usually take the lead, right?
Wrong.
“Okay, wait, let me just—” Armin’s fingers are trembling due to anxiety. His poor, innocent mind cannot handle being so painfully turned on and awkwardly embarrassed at the same time. Your boyfriend has always been awkward with literally everything, which kind of makes him adorable but it does not come as cute—not in the slightest—when he’s doing the exact opposite of what he's supposed to do. Somewhere deep in his mind, he probably knows that he’s supposed to tear apart the package sexily with his teeth, put the condom on within seconds, and thrust into you as painlessly as possible. But in reality, what’s currently happening is he's trying to catch the condom that flew out in the air after he managed to tear the packet apart with his shaky fingers. He then progresses to try putting on the condom for approximately fifteen minutes while flinching several times when he accidentally slaps the elastic band against his cock.
The whole thing is a fucking disaster (no pun intended) and all the passion, desire, and arousal that you once felt swirling in your stomach vanish in an instant. And when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, it does, because being a virgin himself, Armin doesn’t really know where to, for the lack of better words, put it in.
“Armin?”
“Y-yeah?”
“That’s my asshole.”
So with a reassuring (fake) smile, you lay a hand on his chest and gently push him backward, trying not to wince in shame when you suggest, “Maybe we should stop and try again some other time?”
You two dress back into your clothes in silence and after you escort him to your front door, Armin tries to kiss you at the same time you’re leaning in for a friendly hug so it ends up with him knocking his teeth against your forehead.
When he’s gone, you close the front door with a sigh, pressing your spine against the wooden surface as you soothe the pain on your temple away with your fingertips. It doesn’t take long before Eren peeks his head from behind his door. Noticing you’re alone, he steps into the living room, leaning against the wall just a couple of meters away from where you’re standing.
“So,” he begins, acting casual with his hands neatly tucked inside the pocket of his jeans. “How was the date with—” He suddenly bursts out laughing, one hand holding his stomach as he nearly tumbles down to the floor, cackling like a mad man. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have eavesdropped but holy fuck, did he really put it in the wrong hole? Oh God, this shit is just beyond me, man.”
With your shoulders slumped forward, you walk back into your room, trying to gather back the pieces of dignity you have left.
***
“You know what I should do?” Eren asks with a game controller in his hand. To stop him from making fun of you and your terrible incident with your boyfriend, you’ve borrowed a PlayStation from your cousin. Even though he claimed that he despised technology, Eren is actually brilliant when he puts his mind to it. It doesn’t take more than two hours for him to master the game, already adapting to every button of the controller, even manages to land a few high scores in the last ten minutes. He used to prefer to live in the old school way, but that soon changed after your influence.
“Pray to God for forgiveness so He won’t send you to hell?” You offer, as you take a seat next to him on the carpeted floor, crossing your legs with your eyes staring idly at the screen.
“Cute, but no.” He clicks some buttons aggressively, trying to reach yet another high score. “I should become a historian. I mean, I’ve seen things happen with my own eyes—the first world war, the second world war, the worst of all: the birth of Donald Trump. Hell, I was even besties with Jesus at one point.” He sneaks a glance, but seeing no reaction coming from you, he juts out his lower lip in disappointment. “It’s cruel that you don’t indulge me with my jokes these days.”
“Oh, you want me to respond? I thought you just liked hearing yourself talk.”
“Heeeeeey,” he hisses, leering at you. “I know you’re hurt that your boyfriend tried to butt-fuck you but don’t throw this all on me.”
Oh my God. “Right, then let’s try this.” You have no choice but to please him this way before he destroys whatever is left of your pride. You do a quick search on your phone, throwing a random question from what you found in the article. “Who led our country in 1950?”
“Easy. The guy with the bald head. No, wait, is it the skinny one with the huge mole on his neck?”
“Name, genius. I need a name.” You exhale in exasperation.
“Oh, I got it! The one with the annoying high-pitched voice!”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?”
“Well, how the hell am I supposed to remember shits that happened seventy years ago?”
You give him a look, eyes staring at him lifelessly. “You’re right, you should totally apply for the job. You’ll nail it.”
***
“I can’t believe this.”
“Saying that multiple times won’t really change anything, Princess.”
“I can’t believe this,” you repeat, this time while standing up from the couch, slamming your fashion magazine down to the table. “I can’t believe our air conditioner broke when it’s nearly forty degrees outside! Aren’t you hot?!”
“Am I hot—” He snorts, flipping a page of his novel. Yes, it is actually quite bizarre that he spends his spare time reading. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I’m hot. Haven’t you seen the number of views my thirst trap videos got in one night?”
“Ugh, God!” You plop back into your seat, throwing your head back in vexation. “What are you even reading?”
“That vampire book you talked about the other day.”
“Which one?”
“The one that’s interesting.”
“Oh, Interview with The Vampire?”
“No.” The way he rolls his eyes as if he’s disgusted with your guess is beyond you. “Twilight.”
“Oh my God, stay away from me.”
“What—this is actually good!”
“These vampires sparkle under the sun—aren’t you, at the very least, offended? Because I’m human and I’m livid.”
“That’s what makes it interesting, actually,” he retorts, eyes moving back and forth as he reads through a passage. “They’re so different from us in real life, so it’s like seeing through a new perspective. I’m Team Jacob, by the way. I know I said I wouldn’t bang another werewolf but Jacob can, like, get it.”
“Good Lord.” You palm the side of your face. “You’re more than eight hundred years old but you have the taste of a teenage girl going through puberty. I’m ashamed of knowing you.”
“You’re just cranky because of the weather.”
“I’m literally dying.” You can feel sweat drenching your back, all the way to your shirt and you just took a shower twenty minutes ago. “You’re lucky you’re immune to temperature changes.”
“Then wanna sit on my lap?”
Your ears must be playing tricks on you. “Excuse me?”
Eren sighs, closes his book, and throws it away to the side. Turning to you, he repeats slowly, dragging out every syllable. “Do. you. want. to. sit. on. my. lap?”
You send him a blank stare, annoyed. “I heard you, asshole. I’m not an idiot. I’m just shocked at your offer. You’re really going all out in harassing me these days, huh?”
“What—” He throws his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’m a vampire, remember? I have cold skin. Here,” he takes one of your hands, sliding it down his shirt as if it’s nothing, and presses it against his stomach. “Can you feel it?”
All the blood rushes to your face, making you feel lightheaded but also conscious of how his skin feels underneath your palm. It is cold, though not as cold as he’d made a big deal out of it. It’s like the room temperature during the spring, at most. But compared to how sizzling it is right now, his skin is nice to the touch, relaxing even.
But all that thought just goes straight out of the window when he shifts on his seat and you can feel his abs muscles contracting.
“Whoa,” he stops, looking at you. “Are you okay? Your heartbeat is insane.”
You smack him on the head and try to suffocate him with your cushion. It doesn’t work since he doesn’t breathe, but at least it can stop him from seeing how flustered you are.
But when another day passes by and your landlord is still taking his sweet time trying to find a cheap handyman to repair your AC, you decide to take on his offer. You know it’s weird for roommates to cuddle but, as you try to reason within yourself, you will be sitting on the-sexiest-man-you’ve-ever-witnessed-with-your-eyes’ lap, your back pressing against his (hopefully) bare chest, and snuggle close until your body heat is no longer screaming at you in agony. You don’t really see any problem with this. After all, you have been imagining how it would feel like to sit on his lap every time he does that manspreading thing on your couch.
So, really, what’s there to lose?
“Okay,” you begin, standing in front of him in an already awkward posture. “So, how can we do this without being weird about it?”
Eren tilts his face up, leaning his back against the couch, phone in his hand. “Do what?”
“Do…” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “You know, what you offered me yesterday.”
“Hmm?” He raises his eyebrow in question, but the way one side of his lips curves upward betrays his act. “I forgot. What exactly did I offer you?”
“You’re seriously going to make me say this out loud?”
“Princess, I’m clueless.” His smirk grows wider, his voice dripping with allure. “Please. Enlighten me.”
He’s toying with you, that’s for sure. And no matter how much you want to feel those arms around you, there’s no way you’re gonna let him degrade you like this. “Fine, then forget it,” you sulk, turning around on your heels with your cheeks puffed out but Eren laughs in the most innocent way when he’s clearly nothing like that in reality. Calling your name in a sing-song voice, he circles his fingers around your wrist and tugs you back until you tumble down to his lap.
“You’re never honest,” he says, his velvety voice suddenly only a whisper away. His arms are tied securely around your waist, pulling you close until you can do nothing but lay your back against his chest. “But you’re cute so I forgive you.”
You can’t form a word, too busy trying to compose yourself. You can’t hear his heartbeat—since he’s the creature of the undead, obviously—but you assume with the proximity you’re being, you would’ve definitely heard it if he had one.
You didn’t notice it before but now that you’re sitting on his lap, your palm pressed against his thigh for stability, you realize that he’s wearing black ripped jeans with holes that are oh so terribly distracting. If you dare to move your finger, you’ll be able to trace the smooth skin at the inner part of his thigh.
You gulp hard.
You can hear him snickering behind you. “Thinking something dirty?”
It feels like you almost swallowed your tongue. “What—no!” Flapping your hands in panic, you almost fall from his lap but his fast reflex won’t let you. He embraces you tighter, causing you to fall back to his chest with a small oof.
“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” he chuckles lowly, his lips grazing against your earlobe. “This is nice. We should do this more often. You fit perfectly in my arms.” He says his line sincerely with no trace of humor or teasing in it, which effectively makes you curl your toes in bashfulness.
“You’re gonna have a heart attack if you keep your heart rate going like that, Princess,” he titters.
“Yeah, well,” you try to push him away by pushing your palm against his cheek. “Unlike you, I don’t spend my time snuggling with the opposite sex, so of course I’m nervous.”
“You’re sure it’s not because of me?”
“Absolutely. In fact, I’d most likely have a bigger reaction if Armin was the one holding me instead.”
The way he suddenly goes stiff intrigues you, but you don’t dwell on it. “Is that so?” He simply retorts back, his tone suddenly turns cold and it makes you feel queasy.
“So, uhh…” Your breathing tatters when he becomes mute, only the sound of the ticking clock on the wall can be heard. “Wanna watch a movie?”
He only hums, placing his chin on top of your head. Since he’s always so talkative, it gets really tense when he’s quiet. “Did I offend you or something?” You question.
“I don’t know, did you?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I knew.”
“Then let’s just leave it at that.” Seeing how you keep fumbling with the remote in your hand, he snatches it away and proceeds to switch the channels. “We’re watching Twilight.”
“Nooooooo, not again!”
But his arm, as he raises it high in the air, is longer than yours so you can’t steal back the remote no matter how hard you try. And as you jump up and down, shifting back and forth on his lap, Eren warns, “I don’t know if you’re doing this on purpose, but if you keep doing that, I’m gonna get a hard-on.”
You immediately stay still, hands tucked neatly on your lap, chest thundering. “You—Why—” You shake your head, flushed. “How can you say things like that?”
“Things like what?”
“Sexual things like that.” The more you reveal your thoughts, the more you turn sheepish. “Don’t you have any shame?”
“What, I can’t be honest?” He snorts. “I didn’t mean to harass you or anything. Just letting you know in advance. It’s completely a guy thing.”
“No, it’s not just that. You always flirt with me—calling me baby or princess, telling me how I look cute all the time when you don’t even mean it—“
You’re interrupted with a loud sigh accompanied by an impatient groan. “Turn around. Look at me,” he orders and his tone is irrefutable. When you turn slightly, making eye contact, Eren has his eyebrows furrowed, almost glaring at you. “I know you’re gullible, and I know you’re dense when it comes to things like this but I swear to God, if you don’t start taking a hint, I’m gonna have to push you against the wall and kiss you to prove my point.”
You’re dizzy and nauseous, your stomach is flipping like crazy and you’re conflicted between believing him or laughing at him because although he looks dead serious right now, you can’t help but wonder what if, after you give in to your feelings, he sends you that signature cheeky grin of his to reveal he’s just joking all along? You’re not even brave enough to imagine, even when the vivid image of him pushing you against the wall, his knee slipping between your legs while he brings your wrists over your head and holding them still with one hand is enough to keep you awake for hours.
So you decide to take the easy path. “Okay.”
He blinks. “Okay?”
“Okay.” You shrug, acting casual. It’s a miracle that you don’t stutter when you deliver the next line. “You told me to take a hint, that’s what I’m doing.”
He raises one of his eyebrows, confused. “Just like that? You’re not gonna say anything more? Or do anything about it?”
“Nope.”
Slowly, there’s a shift in his expression. He shakes his head in amusement, tongue protruding against the inside of his cheek. “You really are something else.”
Surprisingly enough, he leaves it at that. Though it’s somehow uncomfortable, you follow his lead and just keep your eyes glued to your TV screen as he chooses his movie.
You have no interest in watching Twilight—absolutely nothing, zilch, zip, nada!—so it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your eyelids start to become heavy in the first thirteen minutes of the show. You would’ve fallen asleep way sooner though, if you weren’t too distracted with the way he laid his hand on your thigh, sometimes unconsciously rubbing or squeezing it with his palm when he got a little bit bored with the scene, causing your breath to get hitched in your throat.
The room’s temperature is still hot even when it’s in the middle of the night, successfully making your bangs stick to your temple. But you feel relaxed as you listen to Eren quietly humming something to himself. Soft, melodious sound is resonating from his chest directly to your ear and you begin to drift away, floating into your dreamland.
***
“Hey, wake up. It’s almost morning.”
Your bleary eyes are greeted by the dim light of the room. The TV in front of you has already been switched off so the only thing that can be heard in your apartment is the buzzing sound coming from your fridge and the faint ticking clock.
“What time is it?” You rub your eyes, not aware that you’re still sitting on his lap, with your spine leaning against his chest. It’s until you feel his arms loosening around your waist that you begin to think, oh fuck, what have I done?
You immediately jump off his lap, tripping over your feet but manage to hold your balance by placing a hand on the coffee table. “Why didn’t you wake me?” You screech, face aflame. “You kept holding me in that position all night?”
“Yeah.” He stretches his arms above his head, cracking his neck. “I would've waited until you woke up by yourself, but you know, the sun is about to rise.”
You’re still pretty much flabbergasted by the whole thing. “You really should’ve woken me up.”
“Well, you seemed like you were having the best sleep you’ve ever had.” He stares at you with mischief in his eyes. “Did it feel that good being in my arms, Princess?”
You’re about to explode. “Okay, wow, look what time it is.” You try to look at your wrist and mentally slap yourself harder when you realize you’re not wearing a goddamn watch. “A-anyway, you really should go back to your room before it’s too late.”
He chuckles at your stupid antics before he stands up from the couch. Ruffling your hair once and making a mess out of your strands, he heads back to his room. As he slides open his door, he spares you a glance over his shoulder. “Hey.”
“What?”
“You kept calling my name in your sleep. What were you dreaming about?”
Whether it’s true or he’s just flirting with you to get your reaction, you don’t want to know. “Just go to your room!”
***
A few moments after the sun sinks below the horizon, Eren comes out of his room with bleary eyes and his shoulders sagging forward.
“Good morning, Princess,” you joke, your hands busy mixing coffee powder, sugar, and milk to make your own version of Dalgona coffee. Eren scratches the back of his head, his eyes are barely open as he heads to the kitchen, not even sparing you a glance. When he opens the fridge, he groans loudly, noticing that he forgot to restock his red wine. He slams the door with a loud huff, drags his body to the dining table, and sits down with his cheek pressed against the table. Seeing how you’re not paying him any attention, he groans again, louder and whinier this time.
“Okay, what?” You ask, leaning your back against the counter, a cup of coffee in your hand.
“I’m thirsty,” he grumbles, jutting out his lower lip.
“Then drink.”
“I don’t have any money left to buy even a bag of blood. Why do they have to make it so fucking expensive?” He grouses, pouting. “I mean, I can always steal one but I’m scared of being caught.”
“Scared of being caught? You, with your superhuman speed and strength?”
“Well, they have those security cameras installed all over the place! I don’t want to get arrested or worse, go viral!” You resist the temptation to roll your eyes at his nonsense. “These fucking technologies, man, I swear to God, they’ll be the death of me someday.”
“Then just go outside. Our town is filled with walking blood bags.”
He groans again, now pressing his forehead against the table. “Man, the effort I have to make just to survive. I’m so done with drinking blood from slutty girls. They’re bitter.” He sticks out his tongue in disgust at the memory.
“Yeah, why is that? Why do you only drink from them?”
“Because they’re the only ones who’ll agree in a heartbeat.” His voice is muffled as his lips are brushing against the surface. “Also the sex isn’t too bad if you can ignore how annoyingly loud they are.”
“Trust me, I’ve tried.” You grimace at the flashback. It really has been a while since he brought one of them back to his room and you were ecstatic about it, knowing you were the only girl he had been giving his attention to. “Why don’t you just compel someone to give their blood? You can erase their memories too after you’re done with them.”
“I’ve told you, I don’t like doing that. It makes me feel like a monster.”
It’s cute, you suppose, the way he tries his best to defy his nature. “Then…” You tap your fingers against the mug, somehow feeling timid. “Why don’t you try being in a relationship with someone? I’m sure they’ll be willing to give you their blood if they like you that way.”
“Yeah? With who?”
“I don’t know, like…” Your cheeks grow hot, bringing your face down to conceal your eyes with your bangs. “Maybe just someone you like.”
“Are you volunteering?”
The way he suddenly has you backed against the counter, trapping you inside his arms, and whispering seductively with his lips almost grazing your own makes you jump on your feet. Your mug slips off your fingers, crashing to pieces when it hits the marbled floor.
“Careful!” Eren holds you by the waist, stopping you just a split second away from stepping on the broken glasses. You realize your hands are fisting against the back of his shirt, embracing him for support without knowing. You pull away immediately, clearing your throat.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to surprise you,” he says, letting you go. “I mean I did, but not like this.”
You sigh. “It’s okay, just step away. I need to clean this up.” He tries to help but you won’t let him, as having him in such proximity is only going to blind your senses, unable to function properly. Even just thinking about the way his strong arm fits the curve of your waist a few seconds before already makes you lose focus that you end up cutting your finger with a shard of glass.
He catches the little surprised yelp that escapes your lips and immediately bends down to check on you. “See, this is why I told you to let me clean up instead,” he complains, carrying you to the sink and drenching your finger with running water. “Let me see.” With a hold around your wrist, you can barely do anything but let him examine your cut thoroughly. “Well, it’s not deep but it’s… still…”
Noticing how he trails off, you look up to check on his face, catching how his green eyes are now glowing a bit brighter. His lips are parted as if in awe from the way droplets of blood seep from your fingertip, trickling down to your palm.
“Eren…?”
His eyes start to change color, drifting back and forth from your face to the tear on your skin. You know where this is going but when he brings your hand closer to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the blood off the lines of your palm, you nearly collapse to the floor.
“Eren, wait—” You hiss, cheeks reddening as you try to retract your hand but his hold is firm on your wrist. He licks his way up before he brings your fingertip inside his mouth. Eren has his eyes closed, a moan almost tumbles off his lip when the coppery taste taints his tongue. He sucks on the wound, wanting to taste more, to rip your skin apart with his teeth and—
“Eren!”
He jolts awake, his irises turning back from scarlet to viridian the second he witnesses the dread that paints your face. His fangs are drawn out but he immediately retracts them before you get a detailed look, his face flushed as he takes a step back.
“Sorry—” He looks away, rubbing his nape with shaky fingers. “I didn’t mean to—shit, I really have to go—I need to drink—” and when you blink your eyes again, he has vanished from your sight.
With your heart thundering inside your rib cages, you lean back against the kitchen counter, your legs trembling underneath your weight.
That was close. So fucking close.
There’s fear growing inside you but it’s not from the memory of him with his fangs extended like the true monster that he was. You’re not scared of him, you’re scared of yourself because you know you want him. Even when you've seen his true form, you still want him and you want him in any way possible. You want him to belong to you, to be with you, to be desperate for your touch, your blood, your presence, your everything, just as much as you are about him.
You bury your face in your palms. I am so fucked.
***
Hours turn into days and days turn into months, and before you know it, it has been a year since he moved into your apartment. The friendship that blooms between you feels nice and you want to keep it that way but it’s getting tough when he keeps on bringing random girls in skimpy dresses back to his room. You used to be furious by how loud they were being, but now you’re pretty much angry just from imagining him being with someone else. And it doesn’t even have to be sexual—just picturing him bonding with another person, even when it’s not as strong as what you two have, already aggravates you so much.
The thoughts of him keep revolving in your head no matter how hard you try to push them away. It even puts your relationship with Armin in jeopardy, as you can barely pay him any attention. It doesn’t surprise you at all when he decides to break things off, saying something cliche like, “I think we’re better off as friends,” and “It’s not you, it’s me,” which in normal circumstances will piss the hell out of you but when that happens, you simply reply with, “You’re right. Let’s be friends.” And there are no hard feelings—no feelings at all, even, which is weird considering you were only a month away from having your first anniversary with him.
Now that Armin is out of the picture, you can finally bring all of your attention back to Eren. But the more you think about it, the more you’re not sure about the whole thing. He’s a vampire, isn’t he? What future do you expect to have with him? Let’s say you date him and things go well with your relationship, and then what? He’s going to stay young with that cute, boyish look on his face and you’re gonna be all wrinkled and gross, how are you ever going to be able to stand that? What if he wants someone prettier than you? What if he gets bored?
Or maybe it’s just lust you’re feeling. You don’t love him, you’re just physically attracted to him. That’s right. Strictly physical.
And yet, as you see him dressed handsomely in a black button-down shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows—him running a hand through his thick, luscious hair as he ties it up to showcase his temple, your mind screams: fuck.
And when he smiles at you, placing a plate filled with the exact dish he knows you love down to the dining table while saying, “I went ahead and did some research about you. I was about to buy you some presents but I thought it would feel more personal if I cooked something for you so,” and stopping to gaze at you with tender eyes before he adds, “Happy birthday, Princess.” You think to yourself: Jesus fucking Christ, just marry me already.
Eren goes all the way with everything, from placing scented candles on the table, playing soft music in the background, even escorting you to your seat, pulling your chair back for you, and setting down a napkin on your lap. It’s too much for your poor brain to comprehend, and your chest is suffocating from all the feelings swirling behind it. Eren looks so beautiful—almost goddamn ethereal, even—in that shirt and those black khaki pants, sporting that sexy man bun. It almost feels unreal to have someone like him standing before you in the dim light of your apartment. He looks like he belongs in one of those romantic renaissance paintings that they display in the museum.
“You’re not hungry?” He asks when a few seconds have passed by and you haven’t munched at your food like a caveman (because that’s what you usually do).
“I’m—you—” You splutter, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before you try again. “You look nice.”
You can already tell that he’s about to say something along the line of “But, baby, I always look nice.” So when he just softly smiles back and thanks you about it, telling you how you look just as nice when you know you look like a storm just hit you, you’re pretty much lost for words.
“You seem exhausted,” he comments, frowning in concern. “Hard day at work?”
You can’t trust yourself that you won’t start rambling nonsense again while answering his question so you decide to just reply to him with a feeble nod.
“Why are you so nervous?” He laughs, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “Your heartbeat is going through the roof again.”
You loathe yourself for being so transparent. “I’m nervous because you’re suddenly being so nice to me. I can’t help but think you have a hidden agenda or something.” That’s a lie. A complete lie.
And you’re sure he knows it too. “And what if I do?” He challenges, raising an eyebrow seductively. “What kind of a hidden agenda do you think I have for you?”
Why is it so fucking hot in here?! “I don’t know…” You start fiddling with the fingers you have placed on your lap. “Drinking my blood, maybe?”
His expression is a mystery to you, even when his smirk seems familiar. “And would you be okay if that’s true?”
You can’t answer but fortunately for you, Eren lets out a chuckle, telling you that he was simply making a joke. You force yourself to laugh but it sounds like a wheeze so you stop before it gets even more humiliating.
Eren walks to your seat with a bottle of wine in his hands, sliding down the glass to your side as he smoothly offers, “Wine, Milady? It’s not blood, I swear.” And you believe him because this time, the liquid seems more ruby than crimson.
“You really need to relax.” Eren leans his back against the edge of the table, raising the glass of his usual red wine in the air before he clanks it gently against yours. “To the cutest, sweetest roommate in the world.”
You immediately take a sip to hide the flush that blooms on your face, flinching when the burning, mildly bitter flavor hits your tongue. You’ve never drunk any alcohol in your life and although this first experience feels rather unpleasant, you keep chugging more of it down your system.
“Does it taste good?” He questions, secretly smiling to himself as he witnesses how fast you’re drinking the whole glass down. You shake your head in response, which earns another laugh from him.
You’re not sure whether it’s because it’s your first time drinking alcohol or you just have a low tolerance when it comes to it, but you can feel yourself getting both lightheaded and drowsy not long after. Eren, who takes notice of that, moves you to the couch so you can rest more comfortably. “I better take this away,” he tells you, circling his lean fingers around your wine glass but you stop him.
“No,” you say, eyes a little bit unfocused as you push him away. “I’m fine. Pour me some more.”
“Don’t you think it’s enough?”
“Just another glass, Jaeger, don’t be a bitch about it.”
Your words stun him for a second before he chuckles. “Damn. All right, just don’t blame me for it,” he states as he pours you another one.
“I have a question for you,” you coo as he takes a seat on the coffee table, facing you. “What were you like in the past?”
He freezes, taken aback but collects his composure within seconds. “Why the sudden interest?”
“No reason. It’s just you’ve never really told me about yourself.”
“I thought I’ve told you enough. I even told you about my dick size.”
“Which I never asked.”
“But you were curious.”
You try your best not to get sidetracked. “When I asked you about mind compulsion,” you slur out your words. The alcohol in your system makes you feel brazen. “You looked like you’ve done something in the past. Something… awful.”
You don’t notice the way his hold around his glass tightens at your guess. “Well, they don’t call me a monster for no reason,” he keeps his voice light even when he feels something churning inside his chest. “I did something, yes, but… I promise you I won’t do that again.”
You can sense it again. That feeling where he seems like he wants to say everything but he’s too scared to do so. Reaching out to pat his hand, you assure him, “Eren, you know I won’t judge, right? What you did in the past wouldn’t change the way I think about you.”
His smile is melancholic, eyes dull with sadness. “I just don’t want you to be afraid of me.”
“Afraid of you?” You tease him. “Ren, you’re a six feet tall vampire who’s afraid of cockroaches and makes thirst trap videos as a hobby. There’s literally no way I could be scared of you.”
Your laughter is a delightful symphony in his ear but for the first time, he doesn’t have the energy to mirror you. Your laughter subsides at his reaction, and you slide your fingers past his wrist to tangle around him. “You don’t have to keep everything to yourself,” you utter. “Eren, if you’re in pain, tell me. If you need help, let me know. If you want someone to listen to you, I would love to do so. And if you want someone to accept you for who you are—for who you truly are—not just a vampire but also the person you were before, I will be that for you.” You disentangle your hand from him just to brush a stray lock that falls out of his bun, tucking it behind his ear. “You’re not alone, okay?”
Eren watches you in silence, his lips parted but his tongue can’t shape the words, not when you’re smiling so delicately like this. There’s gratitude welling up inside him, as well as joy and the affection he holds for you, but there’s also fear. What he did in the past was… something he was sure you weren’t ready to hear. He’s afraid that your thoughts about him would change despite your promise. He wants to tell you the truth. He’s dying for you to know every part of him and the past he’s been trying to hide, but… He’s terrified.
He chews on his lower lip, contemplating. “Would you… believe me if I told you I was a prince?”
You blink. “You were?”If you weren’t intoxicated, you would’ve laughed.
“Yeah. Seems very unlikely, doesn’t it, with the way I’m behaving now?” He chuckled sheepishly. “But I was, eight hundred years ago. Before I was turned into… this.” He casts his gaze downward, looking at his palm and remembering the first night where he had warm blood staining his hands and his own fangs puncturing his lip. “I came from a place called Paradis. We were the strongest kingdom on the continent for decades, ruling over four others. I was their second prince.” He’s better at concealing his emotions this time, and with alcohol fogging your thoughts, you fail to notice the way he has his other hand clenching into a fist, his nails digging hard enough to leave marks on his palm. “It’s a boring story, though,” he says, playfully bumping his shoulder against yours. “I don’t want to put you to sleep. We still have a birthday to celebrate.”
“I wish to know more, actually,” you chuckle, swirling your wine inside your glass before you take a sip. “Eren Jaeger, The Second Prince of Paradis. Has a nice ring to it. Did people announce your title like that when you stepped into the room?”
Eren’s eyes widen as the ghosts from his past come alive in his head. Those voices he’s been trying to silence, those faces he’s been trying to forget, they’re all revived at once.
Look at him. Eren Jaeger, The Devil of Paradis.
A disgrace. A filthy half-blood. He should’ve died, just like that witch.
No. We should kill him.
“Yeah,” Eren swallows. “Yeah, they called me like that all the time.” He brings the tip of his glass to his lips, gulping down a thick amount of blood to distract himself.
Oblivious to what he’s feeling, you move toward another topic. “Does everyone’s blood taste the same to you?”
“It differs,” he answers. “But only faintly. I’m not that picky about it.”
“And how does it feel having your blood sucked by a vampire?”
“You’re asking the wrong guy.” He sways his head from side to side, chuckling lightly. “I mean, of course, I can have my blood drunk by another vampire but I’m not that kinky. I know some vampires who are into that kind of shit though.”
“Well, by the sound of your girls screaming like they were giving birth, it’s either very painful or very…” The sight of him staring at you intently, taking in your features, nearly throws you off tracks. “Pleasurable.”
There’s an awkward pause and silence hangs around to fill the space. The voices inside his head gradually turn into whispers, drowned by the curiosity that builds up within him. You’re being transparent, every emotion, every desire you usually kept hidden is now showing vividly on your face. He doesn’t intend to be cruel, but if this serves as a chance for him to know how you truly feel about him, then he will take advantage of it. “How come you’re asking me these questions?” He asks.
“Because that’s all I’ve been thinking about,” you confess, feeling braver with each second passing by. “And it’s not just about you drinking my blood, but more about you entirely. You know what I mean?”
Eren places his glass down on the table, leaning towards you. If his heart was beating, it would be pounding right now. “Not sure, but I’m all ears.”
“I… just…” It’s getting harder to speak when he’s so close, you can start locating every tiny mole he has on his face and his neck. The small one near his Adam’s apple is the one that distracts you the most. “I just think we’re compatible with each other, you know? And I’ve never enjoyed someone’s company this much before. You’re funny, you’re smart, and you’re both endearing and so freaking annoying at the same time—how is that possible?”
But Eren isn’t laughing. His eyes are deep and dark, raking over your profiles with so much intensity but when he swats the bangs out of your eyes, his touch is tender. “What else? Tell me more.”
You lean closer to his touch like how a kitten would, making him gulp slightly at the sight. “I get so vexed whenever you spend your time with someone else. I know I have no right to be jealous since we’re just friends but I can’t help it.” You exhale, rubbing the side of your face with your palm. “It’s so fucking tiring to think about you this much when I can’t have you.”
You’re so lost in your own thoughts that when Eren reaches out a hand to touch your face, you jump in surprise, spilling wine all over your blouse. “Shit, this is my favorite shirt,” you whine, hastily settling down your glass on the table. “Can you get me some tissues?”
But what he does is lift your body with both of his arms and carry you to the bathroom. You cling onto him with a yelp, trying to keep yourself away from falling even though you’re sure he’s perfectly able to hold your weight.
Eren places you down on the bathroom counter, your fingers gripping at the edge of your sink. Sitting up straight, you begin to feel conscious of your surroundings. “What are you doing?”
“It’s your favorite shirt, right? We need to wash the stain before it sticks,” He explains, his fingers going to your collar. You nearly stop breathing when he asks for permission to undress you, “May I?”
You swallow the lump in your throat before you offer him a weak nod. “Yes.”
He takes time unbuttoning your shirt one by one when you know he can rip it apart easily with one finger. He’s so gentle, his touches are paper-thin but whenever his icy fingertips make slight contact with your skin, it sends electricity to every inch of your body.
When he manages to untangle the clothing from your body, you’re only left in your bra and your white satin lace cami top. You can tell he tries to be polite by not staring at your exposed skin, and instead, focusing on fixing your blouse. He drags it over to the sink, drenching it with water.
“Where did you place the detergent again?” He asks, reaching up over your head to check on the top cabinet and he’s so fucking close that you can see the movement of his Adam’s apple as he speaks. And it’s really, really tempting to just lean over and—
Eren flinches when he feels you sinking your face in the crook of his neck, mapping your lips on his skin and breathing in his scent. You don’t know what vampires usually smell like but Eren reminds you of summer even when you’re not sure what summer smells like. It’s funny how you’re not making sense, even in your own thoughts.
Pushing you away by the shoulders, Eren’s eyes gleam in a way you’ve never seen before. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I…” You can’t form a word—you can’t even form a thought as you’re too busy staring at his lips, musing over how smooth they look, how thrilling they must feel against your own. And perhaps he’s thinking the same thing about yours too because when you lean in for a taste, he meets you halfway.
The kiss feels warm and it doesn’t make any sense, because the rest of his body is icy cold but as you press your mouth against his, all you can think about is how his lips are hot and soft, so fucking soft and delightful and maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks on you but you don’t care.
You breathe heavily through your nose, yanking at the collar of his shirt so he’s closer to you than he’s ever been. You tilt your head slightly, angling your face so you can meld your lips deeper against his. He instinctively reacts by holding the side of your face, his fingers slipping between your strands, his tips curling around your nape.
He kisses better than any man you’ve ever been with and you’re sure he’s better than any man you’ll ever date in the future. Eren knows what he’s doing. Even when he’s caught by surprise, his lips are dancing against yours so sensually that they leave you melting in his arms.
Sliding your hand up to his chest, you can tell how his skin stands in contrast to the warmth of his mouth and it makes you shiver. Your breathing rags as you moan into his mouth, letting him taste the alcohol that lingers inside yours. You trace your tongue along the puncture of his fang that’s still retracted, almost as normal as a human’s but something inside you tells you it’s not going to stay that long if you continue with this. Anticipation builds up fast inside you. There’s absolutely no way you’re going to stop what you’re doing.
But Eren is surprisingly more chivalrous than he looks. He pulls away, giving you a few inches of space to break the attraction. It’s not enough, your mind is still heavily clouded by the thoughts of him, so you reach up to kiss him again, catching his lower lip between yours.
“No, wait,” he vocalizes, his voice sounding breathy even when his lungs no longer function in the way they used to. He circles his fingers around your wrists, holding them down against the counter so you won’t be able to move.
“Let me just kiss you,” you plead, eyes dazed and desperate. “Please.”
His chuckles are soft, almost inaudible. “You’re drunk.”
“I’m not, I swear.” It’s horribly embarrassing how much you crave his touch as if losing physical contact with him causes you madness. “Hold up your fingers and ask me to count them. I’ll guess it right, trust me, so can you just—” You try to move your hand to pull him close but his grip around your wrist is stronger than your strength. “Eren—”
“Look, I want this just as much as you do—” He cuts his line short and continues it sharply with a groan when he feels your knee sliding between his legs, giving him the friction that he needs. “Fuck. I probably want this more than you do, but—” He loses control for a split second, re-attaching his mouth to yours with so much fervor, tongues desperate to taste one another. The way you whimper against him makes him groan, his hand gliding down your thigh and spreading your legs apart so he can fit himself between them.
It’s when his fangs suddenly puncture your lips, drawing a hint of blood and making you cry out in surprise that he wakes up from his reverie. He pushes himself away immediately to the other side of the room. You almost topple forward from suddenly losing his body to lean on, only managing to keep your balance at the last second by gripping at the edge of the counter.
Eren turns around, facing the bathroom tiles as he leans one hand against the wall while his other one covers his mouth. He curses under his breath, loathing how he nearly lets the monster inside of him take control of his body.
“Eren?”
“Sorry, let me just—“ His shoulders are shaking, trying his best to soothe the thirst that overwhelmed him earlier. His canines feel burning. “They’ll go back in a minute.”
“No.” You jump down from the counter, moving to his spot with careful steps. “Let me see them.”
He shakes his head, unable to find the courage to face you. “Stay away.”
“I want to see them.” You place your hand on his shoulder, caressing him gently until he finally submits to your touch.
You only ever saw him with his fangs retracted twice in your life but even then, it was always too dark and too fast for you to see him properly. But now… Now you can take your time.
God, he’s gorgeous.
His eyes, as they peer into you in concern and the uncertainty that he might hurt you, are radiant, glowing like ambers in the dark of the night. But instead of jade green, they shine luminously in crimson, so strikingly beautiful that you can barely look at anywhere else. His fangs are now twice their usual size but he can still hide them behind his lips if needed. It’s the way they become frighteningly sharp that sends a shiver down your spine but you brave yourself enough to reach out to him.
“Can I… touch them?” You hesitantly ask. Eren looks conflicted by the question but soon gives you a timid nod. He parts his mouth slightly so you can trace your fingertip along his cuspid. It feels like a knife splitting your skin, making you flinch in surprise.
He hastily pulls back, terrified at the thought of hurting you. “S-sorry—”
“Do it with me.”
“What?”
You take a deep breath, your heart rate soaring. “I want you to drink from me.”
“You’re being insane—”
“Please.” You lay a hand on his chest, inclining your head and pushing back your hair to expose more skin of your throat. He feasts on the sight of the pulsating vein that paints the side of your neck, his blood boiling with need. “Just try, Eren…”
The glimmer in his eyes shows that he’s yearning to fulfill your wish but he cups your cheek again, fighting back his raging desire to consume you. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes.”
“You’re gonna regret this in the morning.”
“I won’t.” Your fingers find home in his waves, pacifying him with your tender touch. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time and—”
A high-pitched yelp that flees from your lips cuts your sentence short and you have to muffle the rest of your scream by mouthing against the fabric that covers his shoulder. Eren doesn’t waste any second after he hears your confession. His canines are prickling against the skin under your jaw, just between the earlobe and the collarbone. It hurts when he sinks them—so, so badly—that tears begin to form almost instantly behind your closed lids.
Eren suddenly lets you go, his ruby eyes widening as he gazes at the way blood is gushing through his bite mark. “Fuck,” he says, “How can you taste so—” and he dives in again, moaning rather loudly when the warmth of your blood fills his mouth, swallowing a big gulp each time. “So fucking good,” he murmurs in pleasure, tightening his hold desperately around your waist as if you’re the thread that keeps him alive.
“Wait—Ah!” You’re being pushed back, your body squeezed between the tiles and the muscles of his chest. The key-shaped pendant he wears above his heart is digging into your skin. He lands one hand against the wall as he sinks his face deeper in the crook of your neck. You fall weak, your fingers fisting the back of his shirt, twisting and pulling until the fabric slides off his shoulders.
The pain only stays for a few seconds before a rush of endorphin seeps into your skin, running through your veins and pumping euphoria to every inch of your body. You begin to relax, eyes becoming half-lidded as you go into a trance, your heartbeat slowing down. You’ve never done any methamphetamine in your life but you imagine that it must feel somewhat like this.
“Eren…” You breathe out, feeling a little bit lightheaded. The strap of your camisole is falling off your shoulder while his shirt is pooling around his elbows. You can feel your knees slowly giving out under your weight and you claw against his back, your fingers gliding against the muscles underneath his shoulder blades as you try to maintain your balance. “Eren, I… I can’t stand…”
He breaks away only to haul you up so you can wrap your legs around his waist, and wind your arms around his neck. He carries you back to the bathroom counter, placing you down on the same spot as before, your legs dangling in the air.
“Better?” He rubs comforting circles with his thumb along your cheekbone, analyzing your expression. You nod, your gaze going down to focus on his fangs again. Your blood paints his lips. Some of it trickles down his chin. He’s a monster, he truly is, but his eyes, though they are now scarlet and flickering like torches, are tender and patient.
He slides his hand down to the hem of your camisole, fingers rubbing against the fabric as he peppers soft kisses along your jawline. “Is this one your favorite too?”
“Huh?” You’re having the hardest time trying to focus. “Oh… No, not really.”
“Well, then,” his lips are still sucking bruises on your neck when he rips both of your camisole and your bra with one flick of his hand, exposing your bare chest to the cold air.
Jolting in surprise, you squeak out his name but you’re silenced with another kiss, one that is so consuming, so deep, so wild that you nearly sob against his mouth. The taste of copper makes you frown in discomfort but the knot starts to loosen when his tongue darts out to meet you in a messy kiss.
His hand goes down to your breast, cupping the side while he runs his thumb along your sensitive bud. You rake your nails against his back in response, aching for more. His other hand is tracing the curve of your waist, going down to your hips before he tears your skirt away. He tosses the clothing somewhere across the room, following your previous ones.
“Tell me if you want to stop,” he reminds you, hooking his hands at the back of your knees before he pulls your legs forward. Pressing his hardness against the wetness of your lingerie, you both let out a whine.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “Want you so bad, Princess.”
“Me too,” you keen, circling your legs around his waist for stability. “Don’t stop, please,” you murmur against his ear, robbing a low groan from the back of his throat.
It’s unfair that he’s still fully clothed while you’re almost nude. You tug on his shirt and Eren helps you toss it to the floor. You roam your lips to every inch of his bare skin, your lipstick staining the front of his chiseled chest before you mouth against his shoulder.
Eren licks along the wound of his previous bite, emitting a sinful moan when your blood sparks ecstasy in his mouth. His fingers are tentatively rubbing you over your lingerie and you beg with your lips muffled by the skin that covers his collarbone. “Take it off. Just take it off, please—“
You can feel a tiny laugh reverberating from his chest from how desperate you’re being but you don’t care. You really are that desperate.
Eren is more than willing to comply, sliding your lingerie down your thighs and you help him push it off your legs completely. You guide his palm to your heat, breathing out his name in a soft moan when his fingers promptly slide between your folds, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit. His mouth finds its way down the valley of your breasts and he goes lower and lower until he has his head between your legs.
You nibble at your lip in anticipation when he presses open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh. Eren makes sure he has his eyes fixed on yours when he dips his fangs into your supple skin, making you quiver with the sensation. The second bite isn’t as shocking as before and you’re so aroused by the little mmm that escapes him. He drinks from your thigh, his tongue flicking over the wound before he sinks his teeth again, maintaining his gaze on yours all the while. “Sweet…” His moans are so sexy and obscene, you feel like you can listen to them forever. “You taste so fucking sweet, Princess.”
“God, Eren.” You’re going insane, you can feel it. “I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me.”
And he probably is too because he’s abandoning all of his self-control at once. The way he sucks bruises on your skin, lapping at the trail of blood that painted your body is almost animalistic, raw passion mixed with lust and uncontrollable desire. He drags his mouth to your center, tongue darting out to lap at your folds this time. Your hand goes straight to his head, slipping your fingers between the strands before you tug on his bun. He grunts a little when he feels you yanking at his roots, his hair tie sliding off until his strands fall loose, brushing against his shoulders.
You rock your hips against his mouth, his eyes glowing even brighter, filled with lust. He retracts his fangs just so he can suckle on your clit, abusing the same spot with his expert tongue. You taste even sweeter than your blood, intoxicating him to his bones.
“Come back to me,” you plead. “I need you.”
He returns to his feet and unbuckles his belt in a hurry, his mouth finding purchase on yours again. He pushes his jeans and briefs down just low enough to release himself from his confinement. You can feel his tip grazing against your clit before he glides his length down your folds, pulling you by the legs so you’re almost lying down on the counter with your upper back pressed against the mirror behind you.
His eyes are hooded but they speak reassurance when they bore into yours. “I’ll be gentle.”
Now that it finally sinks you’re going to do this for the first time, your lustful desire quickly changes into jitters. You nod, permitting him to proceed.
The feeling of him stretching you little by little is excruciating and he can tell that too, hissing, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” as his eyebrows adjoin in the middle. Unable to handle the pain, you reach out a hand to stop him but he grabs your wrist and plunges his teeth into your skin.
Another jolt of pain sends tremors all over your body before the rush of endorphin hits you like a wave, gradually reducing your pain until you’re in haze again, blissful even, but also even more aroused than before.
“You’re okay?” He licks the blood that trails down your arm before he presses a lingering kiss against your veins. “Are you still in pain?”
You’re breathing hard but you can feel your heartbeat slowing. “No. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He brushes his smile against your forehead before he returns to position. “Let’s start slow, okay?”
“No…” You push your body forward, tangling your arms around his neck. “Don’t hold back.” You lean close to his ear, kissing his shell once before you whisper, “I want you to fuck me, Ren.”
His grip on your thigh tightens, his mouth colliding with yours in a frantic kiss. “I’m gonna move,” Eren gives his final warning before he rams his hips forward, filling you up so deep, you swear you can feel him in your stomach.
Even when he said he was going to be gentle with you, he’s doing the exact opposite. Or maybe he is going gentle, which only makes you wonder how wild he can be once he stops caring about your safety. The thought of him losing control of his mind as he pounds into you senselessly makes you shudder, your walls closing hard around his length.
“My God.” The feeling of your heat enveloping him—squeezing around him—makes him drop his temple on your shoulder, dissolving him into a groaning mess. “You are driving me insane, do you know that?”
“I can take it.” You hold his face, caressing his sharp jawline with trembling fingers. “It’s not painful anymore, so please, just… Do whatever you want with me.”
“But I’ll break you.” Although his eyes speak like he wants nothing but to grant your wish.
You let your tongue slide up from his chin to his lower lip, stopping just to whisper, “Then break me apart, I don’t care,” before you crash his mouth with yours again.
Eren’s thrust is both deep and hard, knocking your breath with each drive of his hips as he holds you by your waist, nails clawing into the skin. Maybe it’s because there’s still a trace of endorphin in your body that heightens all your senses and washes all your pain away because everything feels so unbelievably good. His touches, his kisses, his thrusts, and the way he moves his hips faster and faster until you can’t properly breathe—everything feels amazing.
And his voice—God, his voice—the way he moans and grunts against your ear, or when he sprouts expletives while he buries his face deep in the crook of your neck, lips scorching hot against your skin, makes you think fuck, why did I waste a fucking year doing nothing when I can have him like—
You’re interrupted from finishing your thought when Eren suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper from the loss. He turns you around, forcing you to land on your feet again with your stomach pressed against the edge of the counter. You place both hands on the marbled surface as he pulls your hips closer to him, pressing his hardness against your behind as he glues his chest to your spine.
“Come here, look,” he says, holding you by the jaws and elevating your face just enough so you can gaze directly into the mirror. He shifts his hand, now holding back your bangs so your eyes are reflected perfectly. “Look how beautiful you are,” he purrs right next to your ear, the tip of his nose brushing against your jawline.
It’s both embarrassing and arousing to see yourself being held domineeringly by him, the curves of your body fit his perfectly even from behind. Your lips are bruised and swollen, blood smears messily around your neck, your wrist, your thigh even on your hips from the way he trailed his coated fingers along the skin.
Eren raises two of his blood-smeared fingers to your lips, mixing your lipstick with your own blood before he slowly drags his fingers away, painting blurred lines of crimson on your cheek. He sighs at the sight, eyes half-lidded as they glow brighter. “If I’m a monster,” he says, voice low and breathy, “Then you’re a fucking goddess.”
You shiver as you avert your gaze, ashamed of how sultry you look in the mirror and how sinful his gaze is as they rake over your body. He presses close, completing the dip of your spine with his chest like a matching puzzle. His fingers curl around the front of your neck, forcing you to look at your reflection once more as he licks a stripe up your wound. “We look good together, don’t you think?”
You’re panting hard, chest heaving up and down with each breath you take. “Eren…” You long for him to fill you again like before. “Please, just—"
He glides his hand down between your legs, teasing your cunt with small touches but strong and fast enough to make you quiver. “So sensitive too,” he chuckles, nipping slightly at your earlobe. “You’re so fucking cute.”
Before you can retort anything back, he pushes the head of his cock into your heat again, agonizingly slowly at first but slams the rest of it with one snap of his hips.
“I’ve thought about this—about us. I’ve been thinking about you so much, it scares me,” he confesses, with low groans interrupting his lines. He thrusts steadily into you, his cock rubbing deliciously against your walls. “You’re driving me crazy with that face of yours. Your lips, your voice—whenever you call my name, whenever you pout after losing an argument—the way you secretly stare at me wherever I go—ah, fuck—”
“I don’t—” You gasp, thighs trembling under your weight. He wraps an arm along your stomach, holding you still while he pushes in deeper. “I never—”
“And the way you lie just like now,” He chuckles, kissing the middle of your shoulder blades. “Fuck, you’re so cute—so fucking cute that it pisses me off whenever you talk about Armin when we both know he can’t satisfy you the way I do—he doesn’t understand you—doesn’t get your stupid jokes—” He begins to fall out of rhythm, hips moving faster with each thrust. “He doesn’t deserve you—I deserve you.”
You catch the sight of your reflection, noticing how he sometimes throws his head back in pleasure, his strong hands gripping the sides of your waist as he rolls his hips, again and again, thrusting into you until you can only cry out his name and nothing more. It’s too obscene, too erotic for your eyes to witness, and when he locks his gaze with yours in the mirror, you nearly faint.
“E-Eren—” You reach out a hand behind you, trying to find him for support but he holds your wrist against your spine, pumping into you with strong strokes. He leaves you with no option but to press the side of your face against the marble countertop, your mouth parting in a silent scream.
The sounds of his groans and your whimpers echo through the bathroom walls, along with the sound of your skin slapping against his. His teeth prickling against your shoulder, his eyes drifting back to the mirror to see how you look underneath him. He sinks his fangs deep into you one more time, making various sounds of pleasure as he drinks your blood.
“Ren—”
“Cum,” he orders, growling against your skin. “Come on, baby, I need you to cum on my cock." The sensation of his thrust, his fingers slightly choking you as he holds you by your neck, and the amount of endorphin that washes over you soon drives you to your release. You mewl out his name, clenching tightly around him. "Mmm, yeah, fuck, just like that—" Eren lets out a guttural moan with his head thrown back in pleasure. He's not giving you a chance to ride your orgasm slowly as he continues ramming his length into you. "Perfect. You're so fucking perfect, Princess. Feel so good around my cock—”
A train of expletives tumbles from his mouth as he embraces you closer, feeling every shake that you emit directly with his body. You’re not sure if it’s from the loss of blood or everything else combined, but your vision starts to blur and suddenly your world turns black.
***
When you wake up, you’re lying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling you’ve seen a million times with your eyes barely open. You’re still pretty much in a haze, not sure if you’re still floating inside your dream or you’ve returned to reality. It’s until your door opens with a click that you can start to differentiate.
“Ah, you’re awake.” He peeks inside through the door holding your favorite mug, already dressed back in his favorite black tee and matching jeans. “I was wondering when you’d wake up. Can I come in?”
He walks in without needing an answer and, weirdly, he doesn’t seem nervous or awkward. Unlike you whose blood is rushing fast to your face, your heart thrashing wildly inside your rib cages. A flashback comes in like an unstoppable train and you almost reach out a hand to your neck, wanting to know if his bite marks are still there.
The way he acts is so natural that you begin to wonder whether all that happened was simply your imagination. But when you try to move your body, jolts of pain run like electricity to your bones, and you freeze. It feels like somebody is trying to crack your head open, tearing your body apart. You fall back to the bed, weak and enervated.
“You all right?” He immediately rushes to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed before he gathers your face in his hands. He observes you closely, looking for signs of discomfort. “Be careful, okay? You lost a lot of blood, so I wouldn’t move too much if I were you. I brought you some coconut water. Here,” he places the mug down on your nightstand. “And some supplements too. They’ll help with your blood loss. I’ll cook some fish and eggs for dinner later.”
You can only nod, too tired to even speak. His eyes begin to soften, his fingers reaching out to caress the strands of your hair. “I guess I went a bit overboard, I’m sorry.”
“A bit…?” You croak out.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, unable to stop a smile from forming on his face. “I tried so hard not to but you were so cute.” He leans closer, his lips hovering above yours but he rethinks his decision before he closes the gap. He moves to bestow a gentle kiss on your forehead instead. “You should go back to sleep,” he murmurs against your skin. “Call me when you need help. I’ll be right outside.”
He doesn’t spare you a glance as he stands up from the bed, but the way he trips on his feet once makes you realize that oh, maybe he’s embarrassed about all of this too.
“Eren.”
He stops in his tracks, glancing over his shoulder as he lays a hand on your doorframe. “Yeah?”
“Where does this leave us?”
His face turns stern. Spinning over to face you, he questions further. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” you pause, wetting your lip in anxiety. “Do you want us to pretend it didn’t happen?”
His eyes darken, seemingly upset. “Do you?”
“I… Uhh…” Your heart is beating so fast that you feel nauseous. “I don’t, but—”
“Then don’t suggest something like that,” he sighs, walking back to your bed again. He kneels on the floor so you’re eye-to-eye, squeezing your hand with his larger one. “Don’t scare me, okay? I finally have you where I want you.”
You look away, attempting to hide your flustered face. “But then, what are we now?”
“I don’t care what we are. I just want us to keep doing this.”
“Doing what, having sex? Drinking my blood?”
“No, idiot.” He rolls his eyes. “I mean, yes, of course, that too. Plenty of that. But what I meant was I want to continue to have this kind of relationship with you. Just the two of us living together, making fun of each other, or spending hours watching re-runs of your stupid TV shows.”
“They’re not stupid.”
“They’re stupid. I only watch them because of you. You are my favorite show.” He winks to break the tension and you blurt out laughing, shoving him playfully by the shoulder. But when your giggle starts to fade, Eren leans in to cup your cheek, smiling softly. “I just want to spend more time with you, as long as you’d let me. So can we have that? Please?”
“I…” You’re so captivated by his features. The perfect shape of his lips is the one that steals your attention away. “I guess…”
“You guess?” He scrunches up his nose cutely like a child. “You’re playing hard to get again? Really? After all the begging you did in the bathroom?” Seeing you turn flustered only makes him want to tease you even harder. “What was it that you said? God, Eren, I want you. I want you in me. I want you all over me—“
“Okay, shut up, geez!” You slap a hand against his mouth, steam practically coming out of your ears. “Yes, we can have that. I’d… love to have that actually.”
Kissing your inner palm, he lovingly smiles against your skin, appreciating your honesty. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, Princess?”
***
A/N:
There will be a prequel for this fic, called BEFORE DAWN, which will flesh out more details on Eren's background story when he was a royalty 845 years ago. It will be a tragic love story between a prince and his servant, and how he ended up being turned into a monster at the end.
Click here if you want to be added to my taglist!
If you haven't read the other story I made for Vampire Eren called MIDNIGHT BITE, you can check it out here.
SUPER MASSIVE THANKS to Nokky and Sandra for being my first readers. I love you girls so soooo much ❤️❤️❤️
Also, this is a rewrite of my old NCT fic called Love Bites so if it feels familiar, you know why hehe
Tagging:
@l6ffys @vivi-et @halparkebitch @fwess @littlemochi @thebeardedmoon @didiyogo @coyloves @erenbean @tehehebri @justasketch @infnteen @naiomiwinchester @spiderlingh @doyochii @ahornyenby @aengelren @sakurashell @princess-jaeger @resonancesoul @blrqt @cacapeepee @persyhange @jaegersdiary @erentoes @trashgremlin36 @meed18 @j0livi0ni @snowflake-201 @jaymihawk @eva-gates @claudevonstrukesblog @sofijaeger @rinsie @blanccofiie @ereninbunu @natanialora @khinjito @ackersune @watermelon-online @tropicsoda @damselofblueroses @alexackrman @bblgumz @jurrasicpork @erenjaegercult @holycandypizza Thanks for reading, lovelies! ❤️
2K notes
·
View notes