#schmellyweek account owner by @eldritchx , will be reblogging all things relating to the event! Feel free to tag this account as well when posting your work!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Wrote a little one-shot for today's prompt 'drink'
Summary:
“Vanessa? Are you alright?” He asked cautiously
Her head snapped up, her face covered by her hair. She brought a wobbly hand to her face and tucked a chunk of hair behind her ear. “Mike!” She slurred out.
Mike took a step back, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. She was drunk.
-
A very drunk Vanessa shows up at Mike's door unannounced, and Mike does his best to take care of her.
an: last day ;( so sad this week is over but had a blast writing for all of the prompts! shout out to @eldritchx again for creating this week. this is my fav out of all that i’ve written for this week, so i hope you enjoy it too :)
wc: 3.6k
summary: mike takes his first shot
tags: drinking, drunk kissing/making out, fluff
you can also read this on my ao3 here
—————
"Can you quit glaring at it?"
Mike drags his eyes off the shot glass and up to Vanessa where she's leaning her hip against the kitchen counter, fingers curled loosely around a bottle of tequila. She has a dish of salt and a plate of lime wedges she'd cut up spread out on the counter, and she's got this lazy, amused look on her face that only makes Mike more worried than he already is.
"I'm not glaring," he mumbles, though he absolutely is — is practically trying to burn a hole through the shooter.
"You are," she says, smile growing wider as her nails tap lightly against the glass bottle. "It's not gonna kill you."
Mike looks back down at the shot glass, brows furrowed in suspicion and maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just disgust. "It might."
"Mike," she sighs, stepping closer. "You are twenty-six and have never taken a shot before. I think it's about time."
Mike doesn't like the taste of alcohol — can hardly stand the beers Jeremiah always offers him when they hang out — and he can't even imagine how much he's going to hate this. Vanessa insisted tequila is different, which feels like a lie, and Mike had made the mistake of wanting to see what would happen if he let her talk him into it.
He’s regretting that a little now.
"Let me teach you," Vanessa says, tugging the salt dish closer to her.
Mike looks up and finally leans back, resting against the counter and folding his arms loosely over his chest. Vanessa tugs the salt dish towards her, pinching some and sprinkling it over the web of skin between her thumb and forefinger. Mike mostly just watches her face and how her eyes focus so she doesn't make a mess.
"Okay," she starts, looking back up at him. "You lick the salt, take the shot, then suck the lime."
She leans in and sweeps her tongue over the salt, knocks back the shot, then grabs a lime wedge from the plate. A soft, pleased hum slips from her throat as she bites down and sucks the juice from it, and she smiles at him playfully once she pulls it away.
"See?" Her voice comes out a little breathless, eyes wide and bright. "Easy."
Mike lets out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head to try and stop himself from staring. "That doesn't prove anything."
"It proves you're overthinking it." Vanessa sets down the empty shot glass with a soft clink, then nudges the tequila bottle towards him. "C'mon."
Mike glances from the bottle to the shot glass and back to her again before sighing and unfolding his arms. He grabs the tequila and fills the glass only halfway full, then fills it the rest of the way when Vanessa shoots him a look, and she reaches for his wrist once he's done. Her fingers are cool against his skin, and she molds his hand into an almost-fist shape so she can sprinkle the salt carefully onto him.
"Salt first," she reminds him, voice dropping a little lower. "Then shot, then lime immediately."
She holds onto his wrist for longer than she probably should, and Mike's face warms at the attentive way she's watching him. She looks entirely too entertained, and Mike's gaze drops to her mouth when her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip.
He clears his throat and looks back down when Vanessa finally lets go of his wrist. She picks up the shot glass and holds it out for him, but Mike wrinkles his nose at it. "Do I have to?"
Vanessa only grins wider. "Yes, Mike. It's a rite of passage."
His mind briefly wanders — not for the first time — to what Vanessa must’ve been like in college. She’d told him once that she’d gone a little crazy with the freedom of finally being away from her dad, but Mike still can’t picture it clearly. It’s hard to imagine any version of Vanessa other than the one he knows now, but maybe that’s for the best — he doesn’t think he would’ve survived college-aged Vanessa if they’d known each other back then. The thought of her younger and wilder and care-free sends something warm curling through his stomach.
"Mike."
He blinks and looks back at her. Vanessa is watching him with one brow raised, the shot glass still held out between them.
"Take the shot."
Mike takes the glass from her before he can embarrass himself any more, then finally bends his head and awkwardly drags his tongue over the salt on his hand. He looks back at her with the salt still resting on his tongue, and she giggles and steps back with way too much delight, waiting him out. He exhales through his nose, squeezes his eyes shut for half a second, and knocks the shot back.
It's awful.
The tequila hits his tongue hot and wrong, and then it burns like fire all the way down. Mike jerks hard enough that some of it nearly goes up his nose, coughing once as he slams the glass onto the counter with a horrible offended noise.
"Oh my god," he croaks out, eyes squeezed shut as the heat from the alcohol warms his throat and chest.
"Lime," Vanessa says through a laugh, pushing it into his hand. "Mike, the lime."
He grabs it and bites down fast, the juice flooding his mouth. The sourness cuts through the tequila just enough to soothe the worst of the burn, but only barely.
"Shit," Mike rasps, coughing again and wincing at the sting in the back of his throat. "That's terrible."
Vanessa is giggling too hard to be helpful, one hand braced on the counter while the other covers her mouth like she’s trying and failing to contain it. Mike glares at her through watering eyes, still holding the mangled lime wedge in his hand.
"Baby's first shot," Vanessa finally manages, plucking the lime from his hand and cupping his face, swiping her thumb at the corner of his lip to collect a bead of juice. "I'm so proud."
Mike's face heats up for reasons entirely unrelated to the shot now, and he can’t even be properly offended with how wide Vanessa is smiling and how her thumb grazes his bottom lip.
"You're evil," he says, forcing himself to breathe through the foul taste still lingering on his tongue.
"And you're cute," Vanessa hums, pecking his lips so quickly he can't even feel properly flustered. She's already reaching for the bottle of tequila again, dragging over the other shot glass she had set out.
"Absolutely not." Mike stares in disbelief, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist as she fills the two of them up.
"You have to take another!" Vanessa glances over as she pours, still smiling. "You can't just have one."
"Yes I can," Mike huffs, smoothing a hand over his face. "That was horrible."
Vanessa giggles and slides over his shot. "It's tequila, Mike. It's not meant to be good."
He rolls his eyes, but she's already reaching for his hand again, sprinkling more salt onto the same spot from before. Some of it misses and dusts over his knuckles instead, and Vanessa laughs under her breath while using her fingertip to nudge it back into place, brows furrowing in concentration.
She does the same to her hand before picking up her shot and looking at him expectantly. Mike sighs and begrudgingly picks his up too, and she clinks them lightly together before they lean down at the same time. Mike licks the salt from his hand and catches the sight of Vanessa doing the same thing across from him. The tip of her tongue drags slowly over her skin, and his brain gives up for one full, helpless beat. He's pretty sure she did it on purpose with the way her eyes meet his and narrow playfully.
Mike grimaces hard enough to make Vanessa snort into her own lime wedge as he knocks the second shot back, but it does go down easier this time. Not good, exactly — he doesn’t think tequila and good belong in the same sentence — but definitely easier.
"Look at you," Vanessa says, patting the side of his face lightly. "You're already a pro."
Mike makes a face as he sucks as much of the juice as he can from the lime, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling on his tongue. "I don't know about that."
Vanessa only giggles and grabs the bottle of tequila again. "C'mon. Practice makes perfect."
•••
Two shots turns into four, four turns into too many, and too many is enough for Vanessa to drag Mike to the couch, making him carry the plate of limes and the salt while she carries the tequila and shot glasses.
Mike nearly drops the plate once when she bumps into him on purpose in the doorway, giggling at his startled noise.
"Careful," Mike mutters, setting the plate down on the coffee table. "You're gonna make me spill it."
"You're doing great," Vanessa says brightly, dropping onto the couch with careless grace. She sets the bottle down beside the shot glasses, tugs the coffee table closer so they can better reach, then pats the cushion next to her. "C'mere."
Mike plops down onto the couch as careful as he can manage, but his head still feels swimmy. He's only been drunk once before — back in high school where he tried to drown his sorrows with his dad's whisky — but this feels different than it did that time.
This feels warm in a loose, humming sort of way, like his limbs are just a little heavier than usual and his brain is going in slow motion. Vanessa is also drunk — or maybe just tipsy, but definitely not sober — and Mike's having an even harder time dealing with her like this.
Not that sober Vanessa is hard to deal with, and not that drunk Vanessa is a problem — she's just a little unfair right now. There's a pink flush on her cheeks and her eyes seem even greener somehow, all bright and glassy and half-lidded every time she looks at him. She's more open than usual, all quiet giggles and thoughtless touches and lingering glances at his lips that make him forget whatever he was going to say.
Mike’s having a hard time trying not to say something stupid in general, too — like how pretty she looks or how good she smells, all lime and vanilla perfume and something sweet, or how he's really glad he gets this version of her all to himself.
"You okay?" Vanessa asks, scooting herself closer and hooking a hand around his bicep. "I didn't break you, did I?"
Mike looks at her and lets out a quiet laugh, trying to blink away the cloudiness in his eyes. "Not yet."
Vanessa smiles instantly, head tilted as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. She uses her grip on his arm for balance as she not-so-elegantly swings a leg over his and settles herself in his lap, hooking her arms around his neck and leaning in close enough he can smell the tequila on her breath.
"There we go," Vanessa murmurs, brushing her nose against his. "Much better."
Mike's hands settle over her waist before sliding a little further up, and he briefly thinks that this is probably a terrible idea.
Not because he doesn’t want her there — god, he wants her there — just because Vanessa in his lap feels a little too good too quickly. She’s looking at him with a sincere, lazy sort of focus that makes his stomach flip over itself, and Mike has to swallow before he can get his brain to catch up with the rest of him.
Vanessa kisses him before he can spiral any further into his already hazy thoughts, and she lets out the prettiest sounding hum into his lips, bringing a hand round to cup his face. She tastes like salt and lime and tequila, and Mike realizes he suddenly doesn't mind the flavor of it when he's tasting it off of Vanessa's lips.
Vanessa breaks the kiss on a giggle and leans back to look at him, brushing her thumb across his cheek. "We need more shots."
"We do?" Mike blurts, rubbing his hands up and down her sides, feeling himself smile at her infectious energy.
Vanessa giggles again and nods, pursing her lips in an attempt to look more serious. "Of course we do."
She suddenly shifts to look back at the coffee table, reaching down to grab the little dish of salt. Mike tightens his grip on her waist so she doesn't slip off his lap, and she brings it between them with an accomplished smile. "Gimme your hand."
Mike offers it up with a lot less reluctance than before, but inhales sharply when Vanessa brings his wrist to her lips, kissing over the inside of it before sucking lightly. Her tongue grazes his skin as she watches him through her lashes, and she smiles once she pulls back.
"Hold still," she murmurs, angling his wrist a little more and grabbing a pinch of salt, sprinkling some over his wet skin. Vanessa’s eyes stay fixed on it for a second like she’s admiring her own work, then they flick back up to his face, entirely too pleased with herself.
"There," she says softly. "Perfect."
Mike swallows hard, trying to form a coherent thought. "That wasn't necessary."
Vanessa smiles wider as she sets the salt dish over on the arm of the couch. "It totally was."
He opens his mouth to argue and gets absolutely nowhere, because Vanessa is already turning back around to reach for a shot glass with one hand and a lime wedge with the other, pushing it into his free hand.
"Alright," Vanessa says, grabbing his arm gently and raising it further up between them. "Lick."
Mike's gaze drops to the salt over his wrist, and he tries not to think about how Vanessa's tongue felt on his skin as he sweeps his own across the crystals. Vanessa watches so intently, bottom lip tugged between her teeth and gaze fixated on his mouth. Mike goes to take the shot glass from her fingers, but she moves out just out of reach before he can.
His brows furrow in confusion, but before he can ask what she's doing, Vanessa brings her free hand up to grab his jaw, tilting his head back just a little with a gentle but firm grip.
Mike goes completely still under her touch. Her eyes flick over his face, a little unfocused in that tipsy-drunk way, and she brings the shot glass to his mouth herself.
"Open," she murmurs, voice low and coaxing.
Mike lets his lips part instantly.
The rim of the glass presses to his bottom lip, cool for half a second before Vanessa tips it slowly. Tequila floods hot onto his tongue, and she giggles softly at the face he pulls. Her hand stays steady on his jaw the whole time, keeping his head tilted back as he swallows carefully so he doesn't choke. His eyes sting a little at the burn as Vanessa trades the shot glass out for the lime in his hand.
"There you go," she coos softly, thumb stroking over his cheek as she brings the lime to his lips. "Bite it for me."
He bites down, sour juice bursting into his mouth and cutting through the heat, keeping his eyes on Vanessa's the entire time. He exhales hard through his nose as he sucks, shoulders dropping while Vanessa watches every second of it with shameless fascination.
"Good," she murmurs softly, almost to herself as she barely pulls the lime away. She brushes it over his lips once, coating them in a thin sheen of juice, and Mike doesn't even have time to react before she replaces the lime with her lips.
Mike makes a helpless little sound when she instantly licks into his mouth, tasting everything back off of him — sour citrus, sharp tequila, the little bit of salt still lingering at the corners of his lips.
Her hand stays on his jaw while the other slides around the back of his neck, cradling his head as she kisses him deeper. Mike chases her without even thinking, one hand splaying wide between her shoulder blades and the other dropping the shot glass she gave him to settle on her waist. Vanessa hums a content noise as she shifts against him in his lap, thighs parting just a little more so she can press closer.
Vanessa repeatedly circles her tongue over his, and Mike's brain goes blissfully blank. He lets his head fall back against the couch cushion, letting her have whatever angle she wants. Vanessa takes advantage immediately, kissing him so thoroughly he can't tell when one kiss ends and the other begins. He feels so drunk on her that he's convinced all of the tequila has worn off already, leaving just Vanessa and the slick heat of her mouth against his.
There’s still a lime wedge in her fingers, and Mike forgets about it until Vanessa brushes it along the edge of his jaw, causing him to huff a startled laugh into her mouth. "What are you doing?"
"Nothing," she whispers against his lips, dragging the lime lightly down the side of his throat. Mike shivers at the feeling of it, and he can't control the wrecked groan that slips from his throat as Vanessa dips her head down. She follows the trail of lime juice with her tongue, licking and kissing up his neck towards his jaw before her lips find his again.
It’s a little messy and sticky with her kisses growing wetter and deeper, the kind that makes time go honey-slow and his brain feel thick with fog. Vanessa sucks on his tongue and Mike answers with a quiet moan that she swallows immediately, like she’s greedy for every sound he makes.
"You taste so good," she mumbles into his mouth, dragging his bottom lip out with her teeth.
"That’s the tequila," Mike husks, tugging her closer by the hips until she's flush against him.
"Mm mm." Vanessa pulls back just enough to let thumb brush slowly over his lower lip, collecting a smear of lime juice and spit. "It’s you."
There’s no good response to that — not with Vanessa looking at him like that, all flushed cheeks and parted mouth and heavy-lidded eyes, thumb still resting against his lower lip. He can feel the warm weight of her in his lap, and the alcohol in his system makes the whole room blur at the edges until there’s nothing left but Vanessa, Vanessa, Vanessa.
He leans in to kiss her again, one hand firm at her waist while the other rises to cup her neck, and Vanessa lets out the sweetest little sound, smiling into his mouth as she kisses him like he’s something meant to be savored and devoured all at once.
Mike doesn't even know how long they stay on the couch, only that the kisses keep slipping between hungry and lazy, like she can't quite decide how she wants him most. Vanessa kisses him deep enough to make his head swim, then eases back just enough to mouth at the corner of his lips, his jaw, the spot beneath his ear. She definitely leaves a mark with how long she lingers there, tongue and teeth grazing his skin while every soft sound she makes goes straight through him.
By the time Vanessa finally pulls back, they're both panting, mouths kiss-swollen, and she has the prettiest, most dazed look on her face with an even sweeter smile.
She's absolutely glowing.
Mike is pretty sure he's never seen anyone more beautiful in his entire life.
"Hi," she giggles quietly.
Mike’s mouth twitches. "Hi."
They both stare at each other until Vanessa glances blearily toward the coffee table. "We should maybe stop."
Mike follows her gaze to the tequila bottle, the abandoned shot glasses, and the half-ruined plate of limes, patting her hip gently. "That’s probably smart."
"Probably," she says, letting her gaze drop back to his lips. "But I'm not done with you yet."
Mike raises his brow, still smiling as she cards her fingers through his hair, tipping his head back so he has to look at her. "No?"
She shakes her head slowly, barely rocking her hips into him, the smallest movement that makes Mike's lips part around a hitched breath.
"Mm mm," she murmurs, dipping her head to kiss down his jaw and towards his ear, sucking lightly at his earlobe. "Think you should get me off this couch."
Mike lets out a shaky exhale, tipping his head to the side while she mouths at the hinge of his jaw. "Yeah?"
"Mhm." Her grip in his hair tightens as she sucks what is probably another dark mark into his skin. "Think you should take me to bed."
And really, who is he to deny such a request?
He stands so fast it pulls a startled giggle out of her, one arm hooked under her legs, the other tight around her back as she clings to him. Vanessa immediately buries herself against him, kissing at his jaw, his throat, anywhere she can reach while he carries her down the hall like she’s afraid he'll disappear if she stops.
Mike barely gets the door shut before Vanessa is pulling him into another hungry kiss, and as he stumbles the both of them towards the mattress, he realizes that neither of them are making it out of this bed tonight.
summary: vanessa needs mikes help with her uniform
tags: kissing, fluff, intimacy, undressing
you can also read this on my ao3 here
—————
Mike has never been good at being subtle.
It's not really his fault, Vanessa thinks — some people just come built that way, all nervous little tells and honest faces and eyes that never quite learn how not to stare. Mike can try, sure. He does try — presses his mouth flat and looks off to the side and pretends to be deeply interested in anything else, like the wall or the floor or whatever is in his hands — but it never works for long.
Not with Vanessa, at least.
Especially not when she comes home still in her uniform.
She knows the second she steps through the front door and sees him on the couch.
He looks up at the sound of her keys, one arm slung over the back cushion, the TV murmuring on some boring history channel that Mike loves for some reason. For half a second, his whole face lights up at the sight of her, and then his eyes drop.
She normally changes before she even leaves the station because she can’t stand the way the day clings to her, but tonight she’d been too tired to bother. She’d pulled her hair out of its low ponytail and raked her fingers through the worst of the tangles, easing the tension headache that had been building since noon, but that was as far as she got. She didn’t even have the energy to crouch down and untie her boots.
His gaze dips to the light blue of her uniform shirt, the stupid little brass nameplate, her utility belt where her hand is unconsciously resting, then flicks guiltily away so fast it almost makes her laugh. Almost, because Vanessa is exhausted, yes, but she's also only human.
She lets the door click shut behind her and leans back against it for a second, watching him not watch her.
"Hey," Mike finally says, eyes still fixed stubbornly forward. There's pink climbing up the back of his neck now, disappearing into his curls, and Vanessa has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling too hard.
"Hi." She lets her head loll to the side, eyes half-lidded as he finally looks back at her. Not for long — Mike rarely manages long when he’s flustered — but enough that she actually does smile for real now.
"Long day?" he asks, picking the remote up and finally muting the TV.
"Mm." Vanessa pushes herself off the door with a groan, shrugging off her jacket and hanging it on the coatrack. "Terrible day."
Mike faces her again, and his expression softens immediately. "You want food? I saved you some."
Vanessa hums again, lower this time, and starts toward the couch. Mike is already moving before she even gets there, setting the remote aside and leaning forward like he can't decide whether he should stand up or stay put. He settles on hovering awkwardly at the edge of the cushion, hands flexing against his knees.
"I can heat it up," he offers as she stops in front of him. "It'll take, like, two minutes."
"In a bit." Her voice comes out rough with fatigue. She brings a hand up to card through his hair, dragging her nails light enough over his scalp that his eyes barely flutter. She smiles when his hands come up to rest on the backs of her thighs, pulling her just a little bit closer between his knees.
"You look tired," he says quietly, face tipped up and eyes wide with a mix of worry and adoration.
"I am," she sighs, bringing her hand from his hair to his face, thumb stroking over his cheekbone. "But better now."
She lets her thumb drag once more under Mike’s eye, watching the way he leans into it. He’s always been like this with her — so open in all the little ways that matter. Even now, with the little line of concern sitting between his brows that she wants to smooth out, there’s something warmer underneath it that ignites something inside of her.
"Better now?" he echoes, mouth just barely curving at the corner.
"Much." She studies him for another second, trying to decide if she wants to drag this out on purpose just to watch him squirm for her. She really is tired, though — worn down deep in her bones from too many hours and too many people and too much noise — and she doesn't want to be difficult.
She wants Mike’s hands on her.
Her fingers hook under the edge of his chin, tilting his face up a little higher. "C'mere."
Mike doesn’t have to be told twice. He rises from the couch eagerly, his hands sliding over her utility belt and to her waist as he stands fully upright.
Vanessa traces her fingers lightly down the line of his face before catching his chin again, leaning in and pressing the softest kiss to his lips. His hand catches the side of her face when she pulls away, bringing her back in for another kiss, then another and another until she can't help but smile against his lips. She loves when he gets a little greedy with her — loves when he finally gives in and stops holding back.
"Bedroom," she murmurs once he finally lets her pull away, the both of them a little flushed and grinning wide.
He brushes a stray strand of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Yeah?"
Vanessa gives him a look. "Mike."
He lets out a sheepish laugh. "Right. Yeah. Okay."
She catches his hand and laces their fingers together, leading him down the short hallway. The bedside lamp is already on when she gets inside, the bed still unmade from this morning, and Mike's own work clothes are laying in a pile on the floor with the other dirty laundry.
Vanessa turns around to face him, pulling him further inside the room and closer to her until their bodies are nearly flush together. His eyes rake all over her face and then down again, hands coming back to rest at her waist.
Vanessa can feel the way he’s trying so hard to be good for her, careful for her, when she can already see exactly how badly he wants to touch. It sends a warm little ache through her, and she steps even closer until their noses are nearly touching.
"I want you," she starts, so softly it's nearly a whisper, "to undress me."
Mike goes completely still, brows furrowing in confusion and shock before settling again. "Undress you?"
She tips her head like she's considering him, hands running up his arms slowly. "You can do that for me, can’t you?"
His eyes drop to her mouth as she says it, and she can't help but smile.
"Yeah," he finally says, voice almost breathless. "Yeah, I can do that."
Vanessa kisses him again at that, humming softly into his mouth. She guides his hands from her waist down a little further until they rest over her utility belt, then pulls back just enough to watch him.
The leather is threaded through the thick loops of her uniform pants, heavy with the day, with responsibility, with everything she doesn’t want to be carrying anymore. Mike looks up at her one last time, his hands hesitating for a second. When she gives the tiniest nod, he goes to work.
He’s careful with the buckle, fingers a little clumsy from nerves, which Vanessa finds deeply endearing. She watches the concentration settle over his face, the way his brows draw together as he unfastens and eases the belt off her. The weight of it slowly lifts inch by inch until he’s pulling it completely free and setting it aside on the dresser, mindful of all the equipment still hooked to it.
"Thank you," Vanessa sighs, already feeling a little lighter. She catches Mike's wrist once he steps back in front of her, bringing his hand towards the knot of her tie. "Keep going."
He briefly looks back at her face like he's checking she's still sure, then carefully begins to loosen the knot. He slips it free from around her collar and tosses it next to her belt, then his gaze dips to the line of buttons trailing down her uniform shirt. He goes shy all over again, throat bobbing as he swallows.
She reaches up and smooths a hand through his curls. "You can touch me, Mike."
"I know." He breathes out a nervous laugh, flushing at his own uncertainty. His eyes flick back to hers, wide and a little guilty and wanting, and the look sends a warm pulse through her.
"Take your time," she murmurs, letting her hand cup his face again.
Mike nods as he works the top button first, then the second. His fingertips are steadier than they were with the belt, and Vanessa watches the attentiveness on his face with helpless affection. He really is trying to do this exactly right for her, like there’s a correct way to unwrap her from the day.
By the time he reaches the last button, the shirt hangs open over the white tank top she’d worn underneath, and the cool air of the room brushes against the strip of skin at her throat. Mike's fingers skim the edges of the open shirt before pushing it farther back, sliding the fabric off her shoulders slowly. The shirt hangs loose around her elbows for a second before he draws it down her arms completely, folding and laying it over the chair in the corner instead of dropping it onto the floor.
Vanessa snorts softly. "You’re funny."
His mouth twitches. "Sorry."
"Don’t apologize for being sweet."
She steps in close, pressing their bodies together before kissing him again, deeper this time. Her hands cup his face while his settle at her back, thumbs brushing over the thin fabric that does nothing to keep his warmth from sinking into her skin. She kisses him until she starts to lose herself in it, then remembers she’s still half-dressed in her uniform and pulls away reluctantly.
"Boots," she murmurs, her voice low and a little breathless.
Mike blinks, lips a little pink and swollen, then carefully lowers himself down without looking away.
Vanessa thinks he looks awfully pretty on his knees for her.
His fingers start to work at the laces of one boot. "These have to suck after all day."
"They do," Vanessa sighs, letting him slide her foot out of the first boot, relief immediately washing over her. He gets the other boot undone and tugged off, then peels her socks off with a wrinkled nose that makes her giggle. He tosses them aimlessly towards the pile of clothes on the floor, then looks up at her as his hands slide soothingly up her calves. Her hand comes up to rest lightly on his jaw, thumb brushing the line of his bottom lip.
"Up," she says, not pulling so much as guiding him to stand again. He rises instantly, fingers hooking around her belt loops as he pulls her in this time, kissing her with less-composure and more desperation. Vanessa lets out a surprised yet pleased little sound at that, hands sliding into his hair as he backs her up a step without seeming to realize he’s doing it.
When she pulls back, his lips chase hers for half a second before he catches himself. Vanessa strokes her thumb near his temple, unable to bite back the soft grin forming on her lips.
"I still have pants on," she murmurs teasingly, giggling when Mike blushes.
His hands let go of her belt loops and shift towards the button, unhooking it and slowly lowering the zipper. His knuckles brush her hips as he eases her pants down, careful not to let the fabric get caught around her thighs. Vanessa steps out of them when they pool around her ankles, bracing her hands on his shoulders. He gathers them up and lays them beside the rest of her uniform like they’re something fragile instead of just clothes.
Mike straightens again, hands lingering at her hips once he’s done, thumbs rubbing slow little circles into the skin just beneath the hem of her tank top. It's wrinkled and a little damp from hours under her uniform shirt, clinging in places she’s too tired to care about. Mike’s eyes flick up to hers again, asking without asking, and she gives him another tiny nod.
The fabric drags over her stomach, her ribs, the underside of her bra, and Vanessa raises her arms for him to tug it off. Mike pulls it up and over her head, then just stands there for a second holding it, staring like he'd forgotten what would be under it.
Vanessa huffs out a tired little laugh, which seems to knock him back into himself. She's never been especially shy with him, but there’s something about the look on his face that makes warmth bloom low and deep inside her all the same. Not because he’s staring — though he is, openly now — but because he looks almost reverent about it.
"You’re so pretty," he says, the words slipping out in a rush, almost under his breath, like he hadn’t meant to say them aloud.
"Yeah?" Vanessa asks sweetly, tipping her head.
"Yeah."
Mike leans in to kiss her shoulder, then her collarbone, then her chest just above the edge of her bra. Vanessa lets her eyes fall shut until Mike’s mouth brushes the edge of one bra strap, then they open again.
"You can take it off."
His gaze lifts immediately as he swallows and nods.
His hands find the band of it, fingers hooking beneath the fabric as he carefully peels it up and over her head. Vanessa sighs the moment it’s gone, relief washing through her as the cool air touches the warm, sticky skin that had been covered all day. Mike’s mouth is on her almost immediately, kissing over the swell of her breast until her head tips back, letting him work his way across her chest until she's sure he's touched every inch of exposed skin.
"You’re overdressed," Vanessa breathes once she can manage words again, blinking lazily down at him as he looks up at her like he’s just surfaced from deep water.
He blinks at her, letting the words settle in his head. "Oh."
"Oh," she repeats, clearly amused, hooking her fingers in the hem of his shirt and giving it a light tug. "Take this off."
This, at least, he does without hesitation. He yanks it over his head and drops it somewhere behind him without a second thought, which makes Vanessa giggle softly.
"So my clothes get folded," she says, dragging her fingertips down his chest, "but yours get thrown?"
Mike rolls his eyes and wraps his arms loosely around her waist, tipping his head back to look at her. "My clothes aren't important."
Vanessa giggles as she kisses him again, slipping her fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants and pushing them down until he can clumsily step out of them. She looks him over slowly once he’s standing there in only his boxers, his bare chest rising and falling a little too quickly.
"There," she hums. "That’s better."
Mike huffs a laugh, hands settling at her waist again. "Better for who?"
Vanessa slides her arms around his neck. "Me. Duh."
His mouth twitches. "Right."
Vanessa lets out a surprised squeal as Mike suddenly scoops her up like it’s nothing, one arm under her thighs and the other steady at her back, looking absurdly pleased with himself.
"There," he says, echoing her from a second ago. "That’s better."
She groans like she's exhausted of him as he walks them towards the bed, and Vanessa can't help but kiss him as he lays her down, climbing over her without breaking away. He catches himself before he can put too much weight on her, bracing on one elbow beside her head, the other hand warm around her thigh. Vanessa slides one leg around his hip and keeps him there, smiling against his mouth when he makes a helpless little sound at that, drawing back just enough to look at him.
His curls are falling over his forehead, cheeks still pink, eyes bright and a little dazed in a way that makes her chest ache.
There’s still a neat pile of her uniform on the chair in the corner, all of it waiting there like the outline of the person she had to be all day. Vanessa glances at it, then back at him. Mike follows her gaze for half a second, then looks down at her again, fingers skimming lightly over the band of her underwear she shivers.
"Feel better?" he asks.
Vanessa reaches up and smooths his hair back from his forehead, letting her hand linger against his face. "Much."
Something in Mike’s expression softens at that, like he’d been clinging to the last bit of her day too, unwilling to let go until she did. He lowers his head and kisses her slowly this time, soft and thorough and devastatingly sweet until Vanessa can barely remember the version of herself that walked through the door.
That’s the thing Mike does best, she thinks.
Not just wanting her in the uniform, but wanting her enough to take it all off.
schmellyweek// scars!!!! Sorry this took so long to post I FORGOT!!!!! Have some post possession ness :3 and kissing lol
Vanessa held her hand right in front of her eyes and spread her fingers, gaze hard as she focused on her darkened skin. Shadowy veins trailed down her arm, jagged and stripe-like, gradually fading away into nothing. She turned her hand, focusing on her palm and sharpened nails, nails that seemed to never stay short again. An almost organic mimic of the Marionette, like the design had been printed onto her — a miserable echo of the same thing that had hurt Abby.
Once the possession was over she had expected the physical side effects to fade after a few days, but that turned into weeks and then months. If it was due to the time she spent or if it was because of Charlotte she didn't know, whatever the answer was wouldn't erase her unease every time she looked at her body.
It was nothing compared to her face however. If her own scars weren't enough, light night colored stripes crept up her face and down her throat. It always looked like it would flee her skin soon but her doubt grew as time passed. Vanessa would just have to stay like this forever, maybe try to find a way to cope with her new body.
If it was just a physical oddity she wouldn't mind but the phantom pain was unbearable. She'd feel pain for things that weren't there, sometimes waking up in the middle of the night squirming in agony. Vanessa would spend more nights in the bathroom throwing up or against the wall, knees against her stomach as her body churned uncomfortably. Getting so sick had made her feel even more insecure about returning to work or working in general.
Mike had told her she should focus on resting up and she did value his advice, she really did but Vanessa hated the idea of doing nothing. During her recovery from her father, her hopelessness was terrible. Mike and Abby helped but it was unbearable to do nothing. There were so many people she could be helping if she wasn't suffering from a knife wound or the aftershocks of possession.
Vanessa sighed and leaned her head against the wall, hands tapping against the bathroom floor. She had been so focused on her own thoughts she forgot she was leaving the sink running, but she was still too upset to get up. Besides, it added an element of peace. It wasn't wise to waste water but there was too much to worry about right now.
Even with all of this happening her compassion for Charlotte was all the same. She was just scared, angry and confused — she just needed help and Vanessa failed. Maybe this was the punishment for that, letting her down twice.
“Vanessa? I found your …” Mike's voice caught her attention. She turned her head to see him holding a cardboard box filled with clutter. Before she retreated to the bathroom they had been cleaning through her closet, the pain had gotten too much though and she said she'd be gone for a little while. “Oh.”
Concern washed over his face, “Everything okay?”
The pain seeped through her nervous smile, “Yeah. Why?”
“You've been here for a while. I thought you said you were washing up.” Mike dropped the box, walked into the bathroom and shut the water off.
She chewed her lip. “Just … a lot on my mind right now.”
He leaned against the sink, gazing at her hands anxiously picking at her sweat pants. “Do … you wanna talk or something?”
Vanessa asked, “Talk about what?”
“Vanessa —” He started.
“There's nothing to talk about, Mike.” She told him coldly. “You don't need to worry about me, okay? I've been managing myself just fine since I got out. Just … quit breathing down my neck.”
Mike paused and stared at her for a few seconds, his shoulders were sharp but gradually the intensity left his demeanor, he softened up. Instead of his usual stubbornness, Mike extended his hand. “Okay, fine. At least let me help you up though.”
It felt wrong to touch him, she felt wrong touching him and Vanessa had a feeling he knew, trying to coax a few more indications to prove she was struggling but she wasn't going to admit defeat. Vanessa stood up and stretched, “No thanks.”
He scoffed, “Alright.”
She rubbed her head, another headache was approaching and it hurt already. Vanessa walked out of the bathroom, kicking the box out of the way. She knew Mike would go through the trouble of taking it to her basement so she raised her hand, “Leave it. I'll throw it away later.”
Mike obliged and followed her into her room. There was still a half filled bin near her closet, mostly full of paper and tiny journals she knew Mike was struggling with the urge not to snoop through. Despite it all she couldn't be clear with everything and while he wasn't so pushy with it now, she knew he wanted her to be more honest.
Vanessa couldn't believe how much stuff she just crammed away in her house. She followed a pretty strict “out of sight, out of mind” perspective for a few years and now she had to deal with the consequences. Mike didn't seem to hate it though, he actually liked cleaning up. At least with her.
They had been working for a little while. It all started when she mentioned how messy her home was and Mike offered to help her fix things up. Vanessa was trying to reimagine her place, she was even debating adding some pictures or new furniture. This was just part of the process.
She winced when her head throbbed, clutching the wall with a huff. Mike frowned, “Wanna sit down?”
“... Yeah, sure.” Vanessa grumbled. He guided her to her bed and set her down slowly, Mike's hands trailed up to her forehead.
“What? Do I have a fever?”
“I don't think so. You're a little warm but …” he cleared his throat. “Is it another headache?”
“Yeah, it'll go away.” Vanessa ran her fingers down her face, mumbling her grievances. “Sorry, it gets really bad.”
Mike took her hand, thumb pressing into her palm gently. “Don't worry about it. Any other symptoms?”
Vanessa only shook her head. She focused on his fingers trailing down her arm, shifting from one mark to another. Tenderly, slowly, he returned and interlocked his hand with hers. He continued, “If you're feeling sick …”
“I'm not feeling sick.” She huffed.
He shot her an unconvinced look. “You were sitting in the bathroom, you're getting headaches, you look exhausted if I'll be honest with you, you were getting sleepy while cleaning up the closet.”
Vanessa sighed. Mike tilted his head, “You need to rest, alright? You don't know how this … thing affects your body. It's not like what happened after your dad, you can't risk overworking yourself like this.”
“I'm not overworking myself, okay? All I'm doing is tidying up.” She protested. It was hard to blend into normal life after she left the hospital but she recovered, but this was lasting way too long. It felt like nothing had really changed, everything still felt heavy and nauseating.
“You did plenty of other things today and you haven't taken a rest once, and you've been complaining about headaches and fatigue. Just take a break.”
“I’m not going to wither away from putting stuff in boxes.”
“I'm not saying that. I'm just saying in general. I try not to say anything because I know you'll get upset but it's too much. Have you tried drinking a little more? Eating? Sleeping?”
Mike Schmidt, better at preaching help than helping himself. Every time he spat out decent advice she knew he wasn't taking care of himself the same way but that was a whole other issue.
“Of course you're saying that.” He couldn't resist snorting at that. “And you know I can't sleep normally, Mike.”
“Come on, Vanessa. What are you trying to prove? You're never going to get better if you don't try to take it easy. You can't repeat last year. Nobody's going to blame you for recovering slowly so what gives?”
Everything came pouring out. He was right, why was she pushing herself? She had no obligation to spring out of bed and did her best, nobody told her to. So why? Why was she doing this?
Vanessa pulled her hand away. “It's …” she looked down. “I don't know? I think I just … I spent so much of my life running and hiding. I did whatever he told me to do. It's just so hard for me …”
He frowned. Mike couldn't relate to the extremes of her life, but he did understand how foreign it was to rest. She huffed, “I never got to just sit down or anything like that. Am I just ruined?”
Two arms came around and hugged her tightly. He pulled back, he kept his forehead on hers. “No, no. Of course not, Vanessa you … you hear yourself right? You're not used to it, that's all. It's not your fault.”
“I just hate being so difficult.” She sighed, her eyes started to grow fuzzy with tears. Vanessa flicked the pain dripping down her cheek, “I hate being so helpless. I hate feeling this way. I …”
“Yeah?”
“I just want this all to stop.”
Vanessa rubbed his arm, her nails dug lightly into his skin but he didn't pay any mind to it. He whispered, “I know.”
Vanessa knew he didn't have the words to describe how he was feeling but a thousand words rushed through every stroke in her shoulder. She decided to rest her head on his lap, inviting his fingers to tangle in her hair.
She was so calm that she didn't realize he was talking, rubbing circles on her cheek, near the tear marks that were stamped on her face. “Does it hurt when I touch your face?”
“No.” She hummed. “They're just marks, Mike.”
“I know, but we don't know everything. Hm … anything on your neck?”
Vanessa shivered when the warmth found her pulse point, “... It's fine.” She said softly. “You can keep going though.”
His deep chuckle made something kick in her stomach. “Sure.”
Slowly and tenderly running his hands to her shoulder, to her arm. Goosebumps trickled through her nerves as he rubbed her springlock scars. Then he arrived right back at her hand, causing a smile to spread on her face.
The bliss she was feeling. Her head still stung but it felt good to be off her feet. Vanessa still didn't like feeling so lazy but Mike's gentle touches kept her far from temptation.
Vanessa tapped his chest, “Hey, you wanna lay down?”
“Sure.” He said.
She brought herself up and fell on her back, tugging her sheets as she looked at Mike with a warm expression. She truly felt vulnerable, safe … like she could tell him everything but she held her piece.
Vanessa rolled to her side. “Thank you for helping me with all of this. Not just the housecleaning…I thought you'd give up on me a while ago.”
“It's the least I can do since I …” they both stared at each other. Mike’s brow furrowed, “I just want to be a good friend… You deserve that, at least.”
After she was free of her possession, he was filled with so much guilt. Mike apologized but it took a long time for them to get close again, she wasn't even sure if she fully forgave him but she appreciated his effort. Even if he could be frustrating it felt relieving to have a friend, somebody to talk to whenever she needed.
It made her feel slightly guilty that she involved him so much in this cesspool that was her life but he didn't seem to care anymore.
She stared at the freckles on his face, his hazel eyes, the little scar on his brow. Vanessa hadn't felt this comfortable being close in a while, part of her worried she'd hurt him. That her blood was still corrupted but being around him made her think otherwise. Mike really did trust her.
“Something on your mind?” He teased her.
“... Maybe.” Vanessa laughed.
Mike's face flushed. He couldn't be confident for long, so she pushed him playfully until he was on his back. His eyes never left her, Vanessa cupped his cheek.
He tried to fight his crumbling demenour with something else. “Have you ever thought about being an EMT again?”
“With this body?”
“If you feel better, yeah. You could just say it's a skin condition or something. You said it made you happy and … you don't have to be a cop anymore.” Mike explained, “Or you could be something else, I mean … you're real smart so it shouldn't be hard to find something.”
Vanessa shrugged, her mind wandered to a matrix of possible futures. Almost losing herself in her own thoughts. “Guess you're right.”
He hummed, “I don't know why you feel so nervous to touch me … your hands don't feel any different.”
She paused, “Guess I'm just scared I'll lose control…again.”
“You wouldn't.” Mike said.
“You don't know that.” She protested.
“I do.”
She wanted to mention that night where he left her but that was a long time ago. Mike definitely trusted her now but those words hurt her deeply and broke what they used to have. She was still healing and this helped — just a tiny bit.
Vanessa scooted closer, so close she could feel his breath growing harsher by the second. Pulling her hand from his face to his chest, she wanted to press her head her ear against him to hear his heartbeat she sure was thundering.
She wanted to make it thunder more but that could only happen if he invited the chaos.
Mike touched her side, nothing particularly suggestive at the moment but it sent swirls of desire in her gut. Then it takes a little higher where he's slowly tapping her belt.
Vanessa kissed the corner of his lip and then fully indulged in his mouth. She didn't mean to start like she did but after a surprised squeak he gave her just what she wanted.
Mike crawled on top of her, pulling up her shirt and marking her neck desperately. She was practically swimming in warmth and delight, inviting every peck, bite and nuzzle he gave her without defiance.
Vanessa’s sharp hands rode up his spine and rubbed circles against his scars, each movement was careful. She didn't want to scratch him, she didn't even know if it'd be lethal for him but Mike's intensity grew as he explored her mouth and her fingers trembled on his back.
The heat trapped between them was overwhelming, infectiously driving everything higher in intensity. Vanessa choked back a quiet moan when he nipped her jaw, leaving flares of fire that reddened her face.
He whispered, “You okay?”
“It's been a while.” She murmured against his lip. Mike only nodded, caressing her face. Love was shining in his eyes like the sun cascading light over a quiet lake. “Well, don't quit.”
“Right.” He smiled and kissed her again, they squirmed around until Vanessa felt his weight vanish. She fell comfortably on top of him, rubbing his chest. A purr left his throat and she snickered, he was always so responsive.
Vanessa’s hand crept closer to his neck but she resisted the urge to wrap her fingers and instead pulled his collar. Mike obliged to her silent command and took off his shirt.
She studied the scars on his body. Some were from the Foxy attack, some by her when she was influenced by the Marionette. Mike responded with understanding rather than pain, “Something wrong?”
“No, it's okay.” Vanessa answered. “I'm fine.”
She leaned him and kissed him again. Vanessa wrapped her arms around him, he mirrored. She pulled his bottom lip and coaxed out his familiar quiet noises she had been thinking about for weeks now. It almost felt novel.
Vanessa slipped out her light sweater. Left in a white shirt, shoulders exposing jagged scars and ashy stripes. Plenty of other marks from her life.
When they were catching their breaths he looked up at her with joy she never thought she'd see again. They kept kissing, climbing higher and higher until they were chasing those tiny departures between kisses to breathe. Vanessa’s nails were deep into her mattress, almost ripping it just from how much was struggling to refrain from bursting.
Mike mumbled, “You're so pretty … I missed you so much … I missed you.”
A needy whimper left his lips when she pulled away and it almost got her breathless again but she kept strong. Vanessa watched a pink-faced Mike struggle to breathe as she held him close.
Finally he asked, “Can I try something?”
“Yeah?” She didn't fight when his lips found her neck. “What are you doing?”
“Wanna see if I can mark something darker than those scars on your neck …”
His voice against her throat made her hips quiver but he kept her still with her hands as he kissed and kissed her again. A pathetic voice in her head sang repeatedly, please, please don't ever stop.
Mike dragged his mouth against her sensitive skin, then her sensitive scars. For some reason it felt even harsher. If it was just in her head or for real didn't matter, because she was practically humming in delight.
He probably already gave her a hickey or two. Vanessa could care less if he marked her body all night long really, who would care? She was past the point of shame.
“Mike …” she groaned.
“Huh?”
Vanessa dug her fingers into his curly hair and forced his head back. His lips were shining, a stark contrast to his disheveled face. “Sorry, did I go too far?”
“No. I just … need a second — jeez.” Vanessa rubbed her throat with a smile that made him gulp.
Mike only nodded. She didn't realize his skin was flaring, Vanessa planted a kiss on his collar bone to add to the blaze. In response he moved under her and successfully stole a small moan that had her smoking with embarrassment.
“Oh.” Mike cooed.
Vanessa playfully swatted his face, “Shut up.”
He giggled and kissed her again, talking between breaths. “We should really get back to … um …”
“Cleaning?”
“Yeah.”
“Do we have to?” Vanessa sighed. Mike's hands wandered down her body, savoring every inch of her with a kind smile on his face.
Mike shrugged, “I guess not …” Vanessa tilted his gaze up with his jaw, making him shiver. “Okay, no.”
Warmth fluttered in her chest and all that pain swirling in her head went quiet when she felt his lips again.
an: i couldn’t think of anything to do for this prompt that hadn’t already been done or that wouldn’t be repetitive, then this idea popped into my head. it’s a lil diff but this is for all my vamp!nessa lovers out there :)
wc: 3k
summary: mike has an important request for vanessa when she feeds
tags: making out, rough kissing, vampire vanessa, human mike, blood sucking, no smut (but very steamy), tiny bit of blood, mirrors
you can also read this on my ao3 here
—————
Mike's back hits the wall so hard it causes the picture frame next to his head to rattle.
"Sorry," Vanessa murmurs into his lips, one hand cupping the back of his neck while the other slides flat up his chest, pressing over his sternum so she can feel the frantic thud of his heartbeat beneath her palm.
She doesn’t really mean it — Mike knows by now that her strength gets a little harder to control when she’s like this — and he once made the mistake of admitting he doesn’t mind being thrown around a little, so really, there's nothing to apologize for.
She hums as she digs her nails into the fabric of his shirt, using it to keep him firmly pressed into the wall. She licks into his mouth and threads her fingers up into his hair, tightening just enough to pull a quiet groan from his throat. She swallows the sound hungrily, kissing him deeper, and smiles when his hands slide up the curve of her waist to tug her closer.
It's always like this with Mike — he just has a way of undoing her faster than anyone ever has. Maybe it’s because he gives in so easily. Maybe it’s because he trusts her so completely. Maybe it’s just that he tastes so good and looks even better like this — breathless and flushed and trying so hard to keep up with her — or maybe it's because he lets her drag him to their bedroom and pin him to the wall like it doesn't chip away at the years of self-control she's built up.
Mike makes this little breathless sound when she drags her mouth from his lips to the line of his jaw, and Vanessa feels it wash hot all over her cool skin. She kisses lower until she can catch his earlobe lightly between her teeth, drawing it into her mouth and sucking just enough to make his head tip helplessly to the side.
"Vanessa," he moans, soft and wrecked already, his chest rising and falling quickly as her tongue traces the shell of his ear. She groans at the sound of her name on his lips and trails her mouth further down the line of his neck, feeling the steady drum of his pulse beneath his skin. The vibration of it is enough to make her head spin a little, and she inhales deeply, the edges of her vision blurring a deep shade of crimson.
"You smell so good, baby," she purrs into his skin, pressing her body flush against his. "You know that? How good you always smell?"
Mike lets out an involuntary little sound, fingers flexing at her waist and bunching the fabric of her shirt between his hands. She kisses at the line of his throat, open-mouthed and unhurried, and Mike lets his head thump against the wall, exposing more of his neck without even realizing he’s doing it. Vanessa has to close her eyes for half a second just to steady herself, already feeling the hot ache of her fangs threatening to slip from her gums.
Her hand moves from his chest to his throat, resting it there as her lips finally meet his again. Her thumb strokes slowly over the frantic jump of his pulse. She can feel how fast it is — can feel how warm he is, can feel the blood rushing just beneath the surface, sweet and alive and entirely his.
"Tell me what you want," she murmurs into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip before soothing it with a press of her tongue. Mike chases her lips as his hands slip beneath her shirt, palms warm against the skin of her waist.
"You," Mike groans, kissing down her jaw now and burying his face into her neck. "Want you to feed."
Her back arches when his mouth lingers at her neck, sucking at the pale skin there until she lets out a pleased little whine. Mike has always had a thing for marking her up — for kissing at her throat until it turns into something deeper, darker, until Vanessa is clutching at his shoulders and making those wrecked sounds he loves into his ear. Vanessa loves it just as much as he does — loves the way he gets a little lost in, a little possessive like he needs her to wear proof that she's his.
It helps that her body never keeps the evidence for long — by morning, the bruises are always gone — so Mike never has to hold back with her. She lets him mouth at her throat until her body gets restless, and she drags his head back up so their lips meet again.
Mike goes easily, always so pliant for her, and Vanessa kisses him hard enough to make his breath go uneven again. Her hand adjusts at his throat to remind him it's there, and she kisses him once, then twice before dragging her mouth back to the corner of his jaw.
"Tell me again, sweet boy," she murmurs, letting her fangs finally slip free.
Mike’s head tips back against the wall, chest heaving as her lips and tongue map him out. "Want you to feed from me."
Vanessa lets one fang graze the side of his neck, barely there, and Mike inhales sharply, fingers flexing at her waist. He doesn't pull away — if anything, he leans into her a little more, like he can't quite help himself. He's always been a little too eager to let her feed from him, and the trust of it tangles so much with the hunger that it makes it hard to think clearly around him.
Her hand shifts to the side of his neck, tilting his head a little more so she has a good angle, and she peppers the area she plans to bite with soft, barely-there kisses to soothe the anticipation she can practically smell off him.
"Wait."
Mike's voice comes out breathless, and Vanessa immediately raises her head to look at him. Her pupils blow wide at the sight of him — all kiss-drunk and dazed and a little desperate — but she swallows down the hunger because there is never a universe where she takes from him without him being completely ready.
"What?" she asks, tilting her head.
He wets his lips, suddenly looking almost shy beneath all the wrecked, glassy-eyed softness of him. It makes him look even younger, even sweeter, and she has to fight the urge to just kiss him until he forgets whatever he was about to say.
"When you feed," he says, voice rough, "don’t heal them."
Vanessa goes completely still. For a second she just stares like the words are still settling into her head, and her brows pinch in confusion. "What?"
His eyes flick down to her lips, then back up again, somehow looking even more nervous than before.
"After you feed," he starts again, voice a little more steady, "I don't want you to heal it."
She searches his face for some sign of teasing, but she finds none. Her hand slips from his hair back to his chest, flattening there as if feeling his heart will somehow help her make sense of what he just said.
"Mike," she says, eyes still roaming his face. "You know they’ll scar, right?"
"I mean." Mike's throat works once before he nods, a sheepish little laugh escaping his lips. "That's kinda the point."
Oh.
Oh.
Something hot and dizzying coils in her lower stomach. For a second she wonders if she misheard him, if the hunger is making her stupid, but Mike is still standing there flushed and earnest and visibly trying not to squirm under the weight of her attention. Her fingers tighten at his neck before she remembers herself and loosens them, thumb stroking once in apology.
"You want my marks on you?" she finally asks, gaze dropping to the line of his throat where she was just about to bite. Mike's hands flex at her waist beneath her shirt, then slide upward in a soothing, grounding motion.
"Yeah," he breathes out, nodding slowly. "I do."
Vanessa lets out a quiet breath that might have been a laugh if there were anything funny about this.
He wants her marks on him.
God.
She should say no.
Not because he's asking for something bad — he's not in the slightest. He's asking for trust, really, which is almost worse — asking for evidence, for something of hers on him that won’t vanish overnight or ever.
She lets the hand resting on his throat barely slip down until she can grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in again, his lips crashing into hers hard enough that he lets out a startled moan. She kisses him until her lips feel numb and the sound of his pulse drowns out anything else in the room, the deafening rush of blood beneath his skin engulfing her mind in a scarlet haze.
"C'mere," she mumbles into his mouth, letting the hand on his chest fall to grab his wrist. She drags him away from the wall and over to their mirrored-dresser, her grip firm and a little possessive around him.
Mike stumbles after her without protest, all supple warmth and trust, and by the time she gets him in front of the dresser, both of them are breathing harder. Vanessa faces him towards the mirror and presses herself into his back, one hand wrapping around his stomach and the other settling back around his throat. She loves their height difference, but especially loves it right now, where she's just tall enough that she can clearly see him in the mirror over his shoulder.
Mike looks thoroughly wrecked in the reflection. His lips are swollen from kissing, cheeks flushed, hair tousled by her hands. His collar is pulled loose enough from where she grabbed it, teasing the line of his collarbone. Vanessa looks even worse — visibly hungry, lips parted in ragged breaths, eyes so blown her pupils swallow the green whole.
She dips her head, brushing a soft kiss to his shoulder and then another right below his ear, flicking her gaze up to lock eyes with him. Mike’s lashes flutter, and one of his hands comes up to rest over hers on his stomach.
Vanessa stares at their hands in the mirror for half a second and has to swallow down the sharp, ugly pulse of want it sends through her. He leans back into her, and his pulse jumps frantically beneath the hand she has wrapped around his throat. Her thumb strokes once over the racing beat, and Mike swallows immediately.
"You still want it?" she asks, because she will ask a hundred times if she has to, because even like this — half-gone with hunger and dizzy on the thought of him — she needs to hear it.
Mike’s hand tightens over hers as he nods. "Yeah."
Her eyes darken. "Want me to mark you?"
"Yes."
"You want the scars?"
That makes him flush harder, and Vanessa can't help but smile.
"Yes," he whispers, breathless and almost frantic. "Please."
That fucking please.
Vanessa closes her eyes long enough to steady herself, and then opens them again to meet his gaze in the mirror. She slides their hands up over his chest, flattening hers over the center so she can feel his heartbeat again. It’s so fast and hard that she can feel it through fabric and skin and bone — can hear it, too — and it makes her mouth water so bad she has to swallow twice.
She lets her lips brush his ear. "It’ll sting."
Mike shivers and lets his other hand brace against the dresser.
"It'll ache," she murmurs, "and it'll bruise. You’ll feel it when your shirt brushes your neck, when you swallow, when you turn your head."
In the reflection, his grip on the dresser goes white-knuckled.
"And every time you look at it," she says softly, "you'll think about me."
Vanessa presses a kiss to the side of his neck, then an open-mouthed one where she's planning to bite.
"That what you want, sweet boy?"
"Yes," Mike breathes instantly, voice wrecked. "God, yes."
Vanessa groans quietly at that and lets her fangs slip free again. Mike's eyes go even wider at the sight of them, breath catching so quick it almost sounds painful, and Vanessa feels a vicious little thrill curl hot and low through her body at the fact that he's watching — that he's staying still for her, that his pulse is drumming so hard beneath her hand that her grip tightens on instinct.
"There you go, baby," she whispers. "Watch me."
Then she bites.
A sudden breath tears out of Mike immediately, his whole body jolting against hers. Vanessa tightens her arm around him instinctively, holding him steady through the initial pain of it.
The warmth hits her tongue, and Vanessa fucking moans. The sound rips out of her before she can stop it — low and filthy and almost drunk with relief — and Mike makes this helpless little noise in response that nearly sends her over the edge.
He tastes so fucking good. He always does, but it's practically unbearable right now. Warm and sweet and bright on her tongue, alive in a way that floods every corner of her body and mind with heat. Vanessa tightens her hold on him without thinking, keeping him upright as he almost goes limp against her.
She locks eyes with him in the mirror, and he's watching her so intently it makes her fangs throb in time with his pulse. His lashes are heavy, mouth parted, brows pinched from the sting of it, but under the pain is that dazed look he gets when the near pleasurable sensation takes over.
Vanessa makes another broken sound into the bite and drinks carefully, because she has to — because Mike makes it so easy to forget herself, and forgetting herself with him is the one thing she can never afford. She takes enough that his whole body goes warm and heavy against hers, trust and surrender pouring off him in waves so strong she can practically taste that too.
She coaxes just a little more blood from him, and when she finally pulls back, her lips are wet and stained red. A small trickle of blood leaks from the wounds, and she dips her head down on instinct to clean it up, stopping just short of bite.
It looks so pretty already — two neat little punctures on the side of his neck, flushed pink and swelling around the edges — and the sight of it sends something hot and possessive through her so suddenly she almost sways.
"Fuck," she mumbles, tearing her gaze away to meet his in the mirror, checking for any signs she's taken too much. There’s pain there, yes, and maybe some embarrassment, but underneath it all there’s that same shy, stubborn certainty that got them here in the first place.
She lets her thumb brush very lightly beneath the bite, not touching the punctures themselves, just tracing the hot, tender skin below them. Mike shivers so hard she feels it run straight through his spine and into her chest.
"Y'sure you don't want me to heal them?" she asks, kissing as much of his exposed skin as she can, leaving behind faint traces of sticky, dried blood wherever her lips press. She'll clean him up later, so she knows he doesn't mind.
"Don't," he breathes out, his voice shaky. He swallows and immediately winces, and Vanessa's whole body lights up. She lets her hand move to grab his jaw, turning his head just enough that she can kiss him for real, slipping her tongue into his mouth so that he can taste himself off her.
He groans softly and turns around fully, wrapping his arms completely around her waist and kissing her so deep her mind goes pleasantly blank. When she breaks the kiss, she smooths his hair back from his forehead, then tips his head to the side to look at the marks again.
"I can’t believe you asked me for this," she says quietly, lighting tracing her thumb around them again.
Mike hums faintly, his eyes fluttering a little. "Wanted it."
Vanessa smiles and kisses his temple, guiding his head to rest on her shoulder, scratching lightly at his scalp with one hand and rubbing at his side with the other.
"C'mon," she murmurs after a bit, brushing another kiss to his forehead. "Let's go get you some water."
•••
Nearly three weeks later, Vanessa catches sight of the healed bites while Mike is brushing his teeth. They’re small now — just two pale little scars tucked beneath his jaw, easy to miss if you aren’t looking for them.
Vanessa is — she always is.
Mike glances at her in the mirror, toothbrush still in his mouth, already knowing from the look on her face exactly what she’s staring at. His mouth quirks a little around the mint foam.
"What?" he mumbles.
Vanessa steps up behind him and slides her hand around his waist, her other hand lifting to trace just beneath the marks with the pad of her thumb.
Nothing about them hurts anymore — the bruising has faded, there's no tenderness, no sting when he swallows. Vanessa dips her head and presses a slow kiss right over the healed skin, then another, letting her lips linger this time.
Mike tilts his head a little to give her more room, sleepy and content and entirely too smug for someone standing there in sweatpants with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Vanessa giggles quietly against his throat.
"You're so weird," she murmurs, snaking her hands under his t-shirt to rest against his stomach. Mike spits and rinses with her still clinging to his back, then wipes his mouth off and looks back at her through the mirror.
"You like them."
Vanessa settles completely against him, resting her chin against his shoulder so she can fully admire the scars.
"Yeah," she says softly. "I really do."
—————
@eldritchx @schmellyweek
schmellyweek2026 @schmellyweek - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
origamiaround
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
stormborns
snowghoul
