— texts with your best friend's older brother, heeseung
part one | part two
pairing: best friend's older brother! heeseung x female! reader
author's note: YAYYY no angst in this household.. thanks for loving the last part guys hehe.. as always plz leave feedback & reblog if you enjoyed this :,)
⋆˚｡in which - You and your boyfriend have your first sleepover together ★fluff
.˚wc: 1k ⋆. 𐙚 ˚pairing: martin x reader 𖹭 m.list
★seonghyeon version
it was a pretty cold night, already past nine, but instead of worrying about the weather, you were in your boyfriends' room sprawled across his bed, laptop in front of you as you played some random horror game on roblox. Martin sat right beside you with his own laptop, tho he was way more entertained watching you scream than focusing on his game.
“AHHHH!” you yelped, nearly throwing your laptop when a jump scare popped up.
Martin instantly doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach. “oh my god—your face—” he wheezed.
“OMG, WAIT IT’S CHASING ME!” you shouted, furiously smashing your keyboard.
Martin was crying from laughing so hard “Babe—just—just hide in the closet!”
“nahhh i’m done, i’m literally gonna have nightmares.” You slammed the laptop shut dramatically, pouting. Martin shut his own laptop too, still chuckling.
“you’re so dramatic,” he teased, wiping nonexistent tears from his eyes. “want to watch something instead?”
you thought for a moment, then your eyes lit up. “omg, let’s watch 'It!, i’ve been wanting to but i’m too scared to watch it alone.”
Martin smirked. “u were just terrified of roblox game—but sure, let’s watch It.”
he set up the movie and pulled you into his side, throwing a blanket over both of you. the two of you cuddled up, sharing little side comments during the movie, Martin making dumb jokes about pennywise, and you hitting him every time he made you laugh right before a scary scene.
by the time the credits rolled, you were basically half asleep against his shoulder.
“babe, wanna watch the second movie?” he asked softly.
You groaned, eyes closed. “i love you, but i also love sleeping… so no.”
Martin laughed, nudging you gently. “fine, grandma.”
you opened one eye and glared at him. “wow. disrespecting your girlfriend on movie night. that’s crazy. Now i gotta go home”
he shook his head, still smiling. “it’s super late and freezing outside. i’m not letting you go home right now. just stay over.”
You blinked at him. “are you sure?”
“of course,” he said immediately.
“okay, but like… i need to shower and i don’t have any clothes here.”
“Wear mine.”
You raised a brow at your 6'2 boyfriend. “yeah babe, you're a foot taller than me, swimming in your giant sweatpants is exactly the look I'm going for.”
He grinned. “you’ll look cute. like a little burrito.”
you rolled your eyes, laughing despite yourself. “you’re actually impossible.”
“yet you love me,” he said proudly, handing you the smallest sweatpants he owned, a random t-shirt, and boxers.
you took them and a towel, heading into the bathroom. rhe hot shower was perfect against the cold night, and when you came out wearing his clothes, Martin wolf-whistled dramatically.
“okay, first of all, rude. second of all, i look like i’m drowning in fabric,” you said, tugging at the oversized shirt.
“nahh, you look adorable. that’s my girlfriend right there—serving marshmallow core.”
you burst out laughing, shoving him lightly. “stop naming fake aesthetics.”
while Martin showered, you distracted yourself with his skincare, using way too much just to mess with him. When he came back, you pointed at his nearly empty moisturizer.
“babe, who used half my bottle?” he asked suspiciously.
you batted your eyes innocently. “delf-care is important, baby.”
he groaned, shaking his head but clearly trying not to laugh.
Finally, the two of you climbed into bed, tangled up under the blanket. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, resting his chin on your head.
“Good night, marshmallow,” he teased.
“good night, clown,” you shot back, smirking into his hoodie sleeve.
he gasped. “excuse you, I’m very handsome.”
“yeah, yeah. keep telling yourself that.”
Martin pretended to sulk, but you could feel him smiling against your hair as you both drifted off—warm, comfortable
the morning sun slipped through the curtains, and you slowly woke up to the feeling of something heavy draped over you. opening your eyes, you realized Martin had somehow starfished across the entire bed, one arm thrown over your stomach like a seatbelt, and his leg tangled with yours.
Yyu wriggled a little. “babe… I can’t breathe.”
Martin groaned into your shoulder. “hhhh… this is how I hibernate.”
you laughed, trying to push him off, but he just tightened his hold. “nope. you’re stuck with me forever.”
“babeee I literally have to pee,” you whined.
his eyes cracked open just a little. “…fine. but hurry back. bed without you is… illegal.”
you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you got up. when you came back from the bathroom, Martin was still sprawled across the bed like a giant toddler.
“babe, you actually take up all the space. this is a crime,” you teased, climbing back onto the bed.
He grinned sleepily. “that’s why you’re here, to keep me in check.”
after some more lazy cuddles, your stomach growled loudly. uour boyfriend immediately perked up.
“breakfast time!” he announced, jumping up dramatically. he was still half asleep, hair sticking in every direction, but he marched to the kitchen like he was on a mission.
you followed behind, giggling. “martin, you can barely boil water. what are you planning?”
“Chef Martin is in the house,” he said proudly, pulling out eggs, bread, and a pan.
you watched in horror as he cracked an egg directly into the pan without turning on the stove.
“…baby,” you said slowly. “It’s… it’s not even hot.”
he looked down. “Oh.” he flicked on the stove, acting like it was totally on purpose. “i was just testing your observational skills.”
You burst out laughing. “yeah, sure, Professor.”
despite the chaos, breakfast turned out edible, mostly thanks to you stepping in before he burned the toast. the two of you sat at the table, eating lopsided scrambled eggs and laughing over the disaster.
at one point martin leaned across the table and booped your nose with his finger. “see? dirst sleepover success. horror games, check, movies check, cuddles, check, and now my signature eggs.”
you smirked. “signature disaster, you mean"
He pouted dramatically, then broke into a grin. “fine. But admit it… you’re glad you stayed.”
you met his eyes, softening. “yeah im really glad.”
and just like that, between the laughter, teasing, and messy eggs, your first sleepover became a memory that felt perfectly, wonderfully yours.
SUMMARY: yang jungwon has never liked yn. he doesn't like how loud he is, he doesn't like how he disrupts class to make stupid jokes, and jungwon DEFINITELY doesn't like how kissable his lips are.
👤: Do you think Jungwon likes ENGENEs more, or do ENGENEs like Jungwon more?
🐈: It’s a bit difficult, honestly. I feel like ENGENEs like me more, of course I like them too, but sometimes when I look into their eyes, it feels like I'm their everything. And in those moments, I feel a bit sorry, because the ways we can meet are so limited, yet they still love me so much. I’m really thankful, but at the same time, I feel sorry. That's why whenever I see the happy, pure look in ENGENEs’ eyes, I get emotional. It makes me want to cry because I'm so grateful, and it’s moments like that that really make performing meaningful for me
SUMMARY: yang jungwon has never liked yn. he doesn't like how loud he is, he doesn't like how he disrupts class to make stupid jokes, and jungwon DEFINITELY doesn't like how kissable his lips are.
SUMMARY: yang jungwon has never liked yn. he doesn't like how loud he is, he doesn't like how he disrupts class to make stupid jokes, and jungwon DEFINITELY doesn't like how kissable his lips are.
boom boom bang bang bang black it out! ──. vampire! n. riki x fem! reader
~ Synopsis: Part two of Mine, mine, mine and based off this request!
.⋆♱ warnings! mentions and descriptions of sharp objects, blood, biting, and passing out
~ genre - fluff est. relationship skinship
note: guys I'm going to be so honest with you I FEEL LIKE THIS IS SUCH A FLOP IM SO SORRY. But i'm posting it anyway because I've been sitting on this idea for like weeks... I literally wrote three different versions of this fic and this is the final result. If anyone has any riki vampire ideas (or the rest of enha) hit up my ask box immediately. Also Sunghoon cameo has me feeling things... mayhaps I will write Vampire bf Sunghoon next...
────────────────────── .✦
Thunder cracks.
You jump further into Riki's arms.
"I thought it wasn't that scary." he snorts, but he still moves his hand up and down your shoulder in comfort.
"Shut up." you roll your eyes at him and turn back to the TV in front of you.
He just smiles. The TV is playing some horror movie that you and Riki have both been wanting to watch, despite you being a scaredy cat and flinching whenever something even remotely scary pops up on screen.
But who is he to complain when it means you push yourself further into his side.
You're both at his place. You're curled up on the couch, legs tucked under you, arms crossed, and blanket draped over your legs. You're staring intently at the screen in front of you, dragging your finger across your bottom lip in anticipation. Riki sits beside you, arm draped over your shoulder, and man spreading like he owns the entire couch.
Riki is trying to focus on the movie. Really, he is, but he feels something crawling up from the pit of his stomach. There's a faint throb in his teeth .
It had to be now of all times?
He grabs the remote sitting next to him, hitting pause on the movie and untangling himself from you as he stands. "I'll be right back."
"What?! You did that on purpose; this is like the climax of the movie!" You huff sitting up just as abruptly as the movie was paused.
"I'll be like a minute tops." He laughs already walking away from the couch. "You'll be fine."
"Hurrryyyy," you whine, throwing yourself back against the cushions defeated.
He shakes his head, still smiling as he heads into the kitchen. The fridge hums softly when he opens it, the bright light spilling over his face. He peers insied, eyes flicking automatically to the middle shelf-- where a small container usually rests
There it is.
The smile slips from is face immediately
The container is there... but its light. Too light. He yanks it out, heart starting to pound for an entirely different reason, and he flips the lid open.
Empty. Completely, utterly empty.
"What...the fuck.." he mutters, voice low and tense as he sets the container aside and starts rifling through the fridge like bags might magically appear underneath something else. Theres a suspicious jar of kimchi, a half-eaten salad you insisted on saving two days ago, and a single can of sparkling water-- but no blood bags
Okay.
Okay, this is fine.
He kneels, yanking open the drawers at the bottom of the fridge. Sunghoon usually tries to hide a couple down there for himself. Theres probably some in-
Nothing.
Riki slams the drawer shut a little harder than intended. He's trying to breathe through it, trying not to let the prickling heat in his chest spiral into full-blown panic. It's still fine. It hasn't gotten bad yet.
Okay....
Jungwon sometimes keeps a few bags in the freezer. He likes them slushy, says they hit different that way-- not Riki's preference, but desperate times.
He flings open the freezer, ice cold air hitting his face
The freezer is dead empty. Not a single frostbitten bag in sight. Just a tray of ice cubes and a lonely box of expired dumplings.
His stomach twists again, this time sharper, deeper. Like something primal is starting to stir.
This is not happening.
He presses the heel of his hands to his eyes, trying to get a grip. If you find out, you'll worry; even though you've seen him at his worst, even though you know what he is, he hates the idea of you seeing him like this. Starving. Edging closer to the thing he's always afraid of becoming.
"What are you doing?"
Riki visibly jumps. The freezer door slams shut with a loud metallic clang as he whirls around.
You're standing there, right in front of him, arms folded, one eyebrow raised like you already know he's up to something.
He recovers quickly, leaning back against the fridge with studied ease, as if he meant to look this casual all along. His eyes are steady, a little too steady.
"Nothing." he says smoothly.
You snort. "Sure, looks like nothing," you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm as you reach past him to grab the handle of the fridge. He puts all his weight against the door.
"What are you doing?" he asks, flipping the question back at you like its some kind of game.
"I'm hungry." you raise a brow at him again.
"If you're hungry, I can order you something." he says quickly, taking your hand from the door and intertwining your fingers. "Sushi, ramen, anything you want."
You narrow your eyes, at your hands and then at him. "Why won't you move?"
"No reason." His voice is still calm, but there's a faint tension behind it now. The kind that slips through the cracks when someone's trying too hard to seem unaffected. "Plus, you know there's nothing in there for you. No one in this house actually eats."
You glance past him at the sealed fridge door, totally unconvinced. "Is this a vampire thing? Are you, like, resource guarding? Do I need garlic or like... a squirt bottle?"
"Funny,' Riki mutters, trying to play off your teasing, but the words land a little flat.
You grin, undeterred. "Wait-- are you molting or something? Do vampires molt? I mean it would make sense, because you guys are kind of like bats, right? --"
You're still talking, voice playful, your head tilting side to side as you lean into your string of absurd theories. "Or no-- maybe its like a second puberty situation, but with fangs and--"
He doesn't hear the rest, as your hand, much to his dismay, slips out of his.
He can't.
Because its slowly becoming all too much. Too close. Too loud.
You're right in front of him, standing with your fingers casually resting on the fridge handle-- just a few inches from his chest. He's still leaning back, trying to look casual, but there's nowhere to go now. Nowhere to run. Not from you. Not from this.
His sense have turned against him.
He can hear your pulse, steady and warm, drumming a slow rhythm beneath your skin. He can smell the soft, familiar scent of your perfume-- sweet, grounding-- but it's laced with something sharper, heavier. Blood. Not spilled, not exposed, but there, just beneath the surface of your soft tantalizing skin.
It's like its calling to him.
His stomach clenches. The ache has deepened into something more primal, a hunger that snarls and coils beneath his skin. And then he feels it: the unmistakable pull, the sharp pressure in his gums. His fangs are fully extended now and aching.
Shit.
If you see them, you'll freak. And possibly try to jump him just to get a glimpse.
He lifts a hand and casually covers his mouth with the palm of his hand, resting his index finger along his cheekbone as if he's deep in thought-- completely focused on your ridiculous vampire molting theory. He nods along like he's invested, tapping his finger against his cheek in mock consideration, trying to keep his breathing even.
Don't look too long. Don't lean in. Don't even sniff the air, for god's sake.
You can feel the shift.
You've lost your own train of thought. He's not even looking at you now. His eyes flit to the side, then the floor, then the wall. Anywhere but your face. His shoulders are stiff, and there's a tension in his body that wasn't there before. Like he's holding something in.
You pause, suddenly aware of the stillness between you
He's leaning against the fridge like its the only thing keeping him upright. Your hand is resting on the fridge handle, but your eyes are on him now. Really on him.
His lashes flutter, his jaw is tight. You can see the muscles on his neck twitch.
He's not nervous.
He's struggling.
A soft pang pulls at your chest.
You stop talking.
"Hey..." you voice drops, the teasing edge gone, replaced with something quieter, gentler. So sweet it makes him ache. "What's wrong?"
You reach out and run one of your hands down his arm slowly, from his bicep to his forearm, you leave your other hand to rest on his wrist, trying to gently pull his hand away from his face. He shivers under your touch, goosebumps rippling along the surface. He doesn't move. Doesn't even breath, like he's afraid.
"Nothings wrong." he says quickly, matching the softness of your voice but trying to play it off casually, again, like you're both still messing around.
But the way he says it, all forced cool and a bit shaky.
"Yes, there is." you say, looking up at him. your hands rest on his arms now. Your gaze meets his; steady, warm, full of nothing but love and concern. "Come on. Tell me?"
You watch the way his expression flickers, falters. You see the cracks forming in the facade. He blinks a few times too fast. His lips part, then close, then part again.
Sensing his hesitance. "Please?"
And that's what finally makes him fold. His hand comes down from his mouth, revealing the sharp, silver point of his fangs peeking over his bottom lip.
He exhales slowly-- a deep, shaky breath that seems to deflate his entire chest.
"I'm hungry," He admits, voice barely above a whisper. "And... there's nothing in the fridge. We're out of blood bags."
You don't say anything yet. You just keep looking at him, and he goes on.
"I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to freak out. Or feel like you had to..." his voice trails off, he swallows. "...do anything." His voice is uncertain. He doesn't know how else to say it.
The words hang in the air between you.
You don't respond right away.
He doesn't look at you, not fully, his eyes drift downwards and he reaches out and fiddles with the hem of your shirt, jaw tight. He's ashamed for even saying that much.
You stay quiet.
Because you get it.
You know what he means. Not just the words- but the weight behind them. The fear. Not just of hurting you, but of what it would mean to even need you like that. The idea of feeding on you- it terrifies him. Not just the act itself, but the vulnerability of it. The danger. The trust it would require. The chance that something might go wrong.
And yet... you've never been scared of this side of him. Not once. If anything, the way he tries so hard to protect you from it makes you trust him more. And makes you love him more.
So you think it through.
You imagine it. Letting him. You'd be a liar if you said you hadn't thought about it before. It sounds... kind of romantic, actually. Letting him because its him. Because no part of him has ever truly frightened you. Even now, with his fangs barely visible, silver glinting under the kitchen light, and the hunger still burning in his eyes.
You know he'd rather starve than risk hurting you.
And thats exactly why you trust him.
So gently, carefully, you test the waters.
"You know..." you start, voice soft, leaning into him. "I wouldn't mind if you..."
Riki's head snaps toward you before you can finish.
His hand comes up immediately, but careful, cupping your cheek with surprising urgency, the pad of his thumb brushing just beneath your eyes as he shakes his head, eyes wide with refusal.
"No," he says firmly, shaking his head, his voice suddenly more alert but still holding onto that soft tone. "No, I could never ask you for something like that."
"It's not asking." you say softly, leaning just a little into his touch. "I'm offering."
He swallows hard, fingers twitching against your skin.
"I know you," You continue, calmly and steadily. "I know you'd never hurt me. You'd never even let yourself get close to that."
He doesn't respond right away. Just stares at you with something aching and overwhelmed flickering behind his eyes. Part of him believes you. But another part is caught in that spiral of guilt and self-doubt, where feeding from you feels like crossing a line he swore he never would.
You give him time. You don't push.
You just stay close.
"You're not as dangerous as you think you are," you say after a moment. Quiet but sure. "You never have been."
His thumb brushes your cheek again, slower this time.
And for the first time since this whole thing started, he lets himself really look at you.
The girl who's asking him to feed on her. The same one who asks him ridiculous questions about vampires. The same one who sits on top of him and pokes and prods at his fangs in awe.
"You're really weird." He mutters. His head falls back with a soft thunk against the fridge, eyes still glued on you.
You scoff. "Excuse you."
But there's no bite behind it. Your heart's thudding in your chest. Not from fear or nerves. Just from the closeness. The possibility of what's about to happen. The way he looks half pained and half mesmerized.
And you're not wrong.
Riki's mind is racing now. Not from just hunger anymore, but from the fact that you're letting him do this. From the way you smell this close, warm and soft, perfume curling around your blood like the two were made to go together. From the way your hand is still resting lightly on his bicep like its no big deal, like he's not seconds away from losing it.
"Are you sure?" He asks. His voice suddenly switching from that lighthearted jab to soft reassurance. His hands come to rest at the curve of your waist.
Your heart rate picks up speed. And he hears it.
"Mhm." You don't trust yourself to speak
He moves. He takes slow steps forward and backs you into the kitchen island behind you.
"Tell me if you want me to stop." he whispers, His hands slide down to the back of your thighs. Then in one swift motion, he lifts you, hands firm and careful, and sets you gently onto the cool marble counter. Your thighs part slightly to make room for him to step between them.
Your breath catches as he leans in, one hand settling at the back of your neck, the other braced at your hip. You're eye level now, and he's close. So close you can see the silver glint of his grills when he parts his lips.
"Okay?" he whispers, voice low, wrecked, and reverent. He searches your eyes for any kind of hesitance, resistance, of disgust or fear.
He finds nothing.
"Okay," You nod. Sliding your arms around his neck, pulling him in.
You're so close now his breath grazes your collarbone, uneven, warm. He presses a slow kiss to the apple of your cheek, then the corner of your jaw. His nose brushes the shell of your ear as he tilts his head toward your throat.
Maybe, if Riki's senses weren't running haywire, and if you weren't so close and all-consuming to him, he would have taken this slower.
The fangs pierce your skin with surprising ease. Sharp, sure, delicate, and cool. But then its warm, almost burning, like a spark running down the side of your neck, but it spreads fast. Deep. And then...
Riki groans against your skin. He pulls you closer, just slightly, so your body presses flush against his, and his lips seal over the mark. You feel the suction, the soft pull of him drinking, and it's intimate in a way nothing has ever been. Not just physical- its raw, instinctive. His entire body is trembling against yours, every muscle taut like he's barely holding himself back.
And the sound he makes- low, guttural, like relief and ecstasy tangled in one- hits you right in the chest.
Being this close to you is driving him insane.
You feel his grip tighten slightly, fingers digging into your waist, into your neck. His breath shudders every time he swallows.
He should stop.
He knows he should stop.
But the second your blood touches his tongue, he forgets what reason even feels like.
It's perfect- warm and rich, sweet with that undercurrent of something distinctly you. It's nothing like the blood bags, like the cold, sterile taste of survival. This is alive, and it seeps into every nerve like it was made for him.
And you're close.
He can feel your heartbeat, rapid and steady, racing against his lips like a drum. Your chest rising and falling, pressed against his. The soft way your fingers are tangled in his hoodie, gripping him. Your legs loosely circled around his hips now, like you're inviting him closer.
He can smell everything. The warmth of your skin, the perfume you always wear, the faint scent of your shampoo, and the faintest trace of salt on your neck. It's intoxicating. All of it. You are.
And the longer he drinks, the more the rest of the world starts to fall away.
The humming in his hears drowns out everything else. His senses are narrowed down to just you; taste, scent, heartbeat, skin. The soft barely-there sounds you make when his mouth shifts.
It starts to fade.
Slowly. Not all at once.
Your heart slows. The warmth pressing into his chests eases. Your hands, once curled tightly in his shirt, loosen just slightly. Your breathing is shallower now.
Then he hears your voice- soft, broken, like your slipping through a dream:
"...Riki..."
It's weak. Almost not there at all.
And then your body sags against him- completely and your head falls snug into the crook of his neck.
His eyes snap open.
"Hey-" he jerks back instantly, his arms catching you before you can slump forward completely. "Wait. hey-!"
He has to pick your head up from his shoulder and move back to see your face. Your eyes flutter, cheeks tilting into his palm. You're not out yet, not fully, but you're on the edge, swaying slightly, breath warm but unfocused.
Riki pulls back, panicked and careful, cupping your face in both hands.
"Hey, look at me. [Name]. [Name]." His voice is soft but frantic, like he's afraid to be loud but terrified to lose you even for a second.
Your lashes flutter again. You manage a tiny, sleepy, "Mmhmm."
"You passed out," he breathes, half laughing in disbelief as you sway again. He slips one arm fully around your back, holding you steady against the counter.
"God, I- You seriously just-?"
"Really?" you mumble, already leaning into him.
"You were supposed to stop me," he mutters, pulling you into a hug, relief rushing in now that he knows you're okay.
"Sorry," you give a sleepy giggle, it then fades Riki feels you go limp against him. Again.
"Wh- hey, hey, hey! You have to stay awa- Shit."
~
You wake up with a light in your eyes. You blink them open to see a sliver of sunlight peering in from between Riki's black out curtains, and its path stretches from the window, across the bed, and right over your eyes.
You let out a soft groan and throw an arm over your eyes, snuggling further into the pillow. alas the light still peeks in.
And then it's gone.
You let your arm drop back against the mattress and open your eyes. Riki is sitting in his computer chair, he must've pulled from his desk to the side of the bed, and his arm is extended to hold the small gap between the curtains closed with one hand.
"Sorry," he whispers, not sure if you're entirely awake and processing the real world.
You let out and irritated exhale through your nose and he winces.
"Why are you all the way over there?" Your voice is hoarse, scratchy with sleep but still threaded with that familiar and expectant tone.
Riki blinks, he wasn't expecting you to speak just yet. His hand is still holding the curtain shut, fingers clenched a little too tightly around the fabric. He slowly lets it go, sunlight slicing back into the room, but missing your face this time.
"I didn't want to wake you. You were out for a while." he doesn't tell you the whole truth, that he didn't feel like he deserved to be lying next to you.
You blink slowly at him, then pat the empty space beside you with a lazy, impatient hand. "Will you lay with me?"
He gives you a look, part concern, part guilt, part really?. You just keep staring at him, pout creeping onto your lips.
"Pleaseeee," you drag out a whine, moving your hand back and forth on the bed, much like you would when trying to call a cat. "It's hot...and lonely."
Riki doesn't move, he's still sitting on that stupid chair with an even stupider grin on his face. "Wow, so you just wanna use me as your personal cooling blanket."
You drop your head dramatically back against the pillow. "Stop being weird and get in the bed, Riki."
He huffs a quiet laugh under his breath as he stands and finally climbs in, careful not to jostle you too much. You scoot over immediately, hooking a leg around his. He settles under the blanket and lays his head on the pillow, eye level with you. One of your hands rests under your cheek and the other reaches for his. He watches as you intertwine your hands together and bring them close to your chest.
A beat passes, where you both just look at each other. His free hand shifts, brushing your hair back from your neck, fingertips ghosting along the edges of the bandage at your neck.
"Does it hurt?"
You shake your head slightly, then pause, you didn't even know there was a bandage over your neck until he touched it. "Just sore. Did you put a bandage on it while I was asleep?"
"Well yeah," he says furrowing his brows at you. "I did bite you, so it was bleeding a lot."
"Mmm." you hum, remembering that did indeed happen. You get a giddy feeling in your chest when memories of last night flash in your mind. The heat of his body against yours. How he badly he needed you. His teeth sinking into your skin.
His teeth.
"What are y-" Without warning, you reach up and press your thumb to the corner of his mouth and lift his upper lip like you're inspecting a bitey little show dog.
"Awe man," you pout, letting his lip go.
"Did you just check my teeth to see if my fangs were there." he deadpans, but he still has that dreamy glint in his eyes.
"I like your teeth." you say simply, pout still present on your lips. He just stares at you for a moment and sighs.
"You are seriously so weird," he mutters.
"Hey, I think they're cool." you nudge his shoulder, rolling your eyes.
"Mmm, you don't say."
"I do say, in fact..." you turn on your back to face the ceiling and give him a sideways glance. Riki raises a brow. "...I think I wanna get my bite mark tattooed."
"...You're funny."
A smile breaks out on your face. You laugh and turn back on your side to face him. "I'm serious. I think it's kinda romantic, I dunno." And you shrug, like what you said is totally normal and doesn't send Riki's head spinning.
"How is that, in anyway, romantic?" He laughs.
"You just wouldn't get it." you sigh wistfully, closing your eyes, totally content with your delusion.
Riki snorts, "I don't think you want a tattoo."
"You say that about everything. I am a grown woman, I can get a tattoo if I want." you murmur, opening one eye to glare at him.
He shrugs his shoulders, "Well, if you insist. Tattoos hurt way more than a bite does, especially over the bone."
You pause.
Your eyes narrow.
"...How would you know?"
Riki turns onto his back, one hand behind his head and his lips twitch into the smallest, smuggest smile. Like he knows exactly what he's doing. He shrugs lazily. "I just heard that. Y'know. Somewhere."
You sit up suspicious, blanket falling around your lap. "Do you have a tattoo."
"No." he says a little too quickly, he looks straight into your eyes. A teasing glint behind them that makes you think otherwise.
Your jaw drops. You untangle your hand from his.
"What? I'm serious, I don't-"
But you're already on the move. You grab the hem of his hoodie and yank it up before he can stop you.
"Hey-!"
"there's nothing here." you frown, peering way too close at his side, like its a puzzle you're solving.
"Put my hoodie down you perv," He accuses, pulling the hem back down and out of your hands.
You click your tongue. "Why did you flinch so hard if there's nothing there." You reprimand, slapping his shoulder, to which he also flinches at.
"I'm ticklish!"
"You're full of shit is what you are!"
Between your laughter, a soft knock sounds from the door. You both turn your heads to see Sunghoon poking his head in through the door, hair slightly wind-tossed.
"I come bearing gifts." he announces, stepping fully into the room with a smug grin, the door left ajar behind him.
Your eyes lock on the white take out bag swinging from his hand and you sit up straighter, still nestled in the blankets. "Yes, yes, come in." you say in a faux aristocratic tone, waving him toward you with an exaggerated flourish.
Sunghoon chuckles and stops at the edge of the bed, rustling through the bag. He pulls out a tall, clear container, warm condensation fogging up the inside. "This is egg drop soup."
You reach out eagerly, accepting it with both hands like its something sacred. The plastic utensils clatter softly in its packaging as he hands you them as well. "I love egg drop soup," you murmur, lips jutting slightly in an affectionate pout.
Sunghoon pats your head. "And there's a thing of chicken and fried rice in here when you want it." He says placing the bag on the bedside table, along with a bottle of water he'd been carrying in his other hand.
You cradle the soup against your chest like its a newborn. "Sunghoon, I'm so happy I could cry."
"Well, no need to thank me. Ni-ki put in the order, he just told me to pick it up." He grins, then adding softly, "Among other things."
You stop fumbling with the lid to the container to look up at him and then at your boyfriend. "What does that mean."
"Nothing. It means nothing." Riki cuts in hastily from beside you, reaching over to peel the lid off for you. He refuses to meet your eyes, and it only makes your suspicion grow.
Sunghoon's grin spreads ever so slightly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Last night, after you passed out," he begins, voice lowered dramatically. "Ni-ki freaked out-- like legit."
You blink, surprised. Your calm, cool headed boyfriend was freaking out. Over you passing out. You mirror Sunghoon's grin, endeared. "Really?"
"Okay, you can leave now!" Riki speaks again.
He's ignored again.
"Oh yeah," Sunghoon says, nodding with a barely concealed grin. "First it was, 'Sunghoon, should we call an ambulance?' then it was, 'Sunghoon should be buy a defibrillator? like off amazon?'
You glance at Riki, who's flopped onto his stomach with his face buried in the pillow. You try not to laugh.
"And then he started pestering Jay about what kinds of foods are good for recovery, what vitamins help replenish blood- he raided Sunoo's room right after actually. Dude opened like seven health tabs on my laptop."
"What a cutie." You snort, but you mean it.
"Right." Sunghoon agrees. A muffled groan come from beside you.
"Do you feel any better?" Sunghoon softens slightly as he asks, just as you're taking a sip of your soup. He places the cold back of his head against your forehead.
"Mhm." You hum, before you swallow the warm broth. "Did he do this too?" You ask, eyes shining as you point to the bandage on your neck.
Sunghoon looks to where you're pointing. "the bandage? Yeah, he patched you up and sat there watching you the whole time."
You smile to yourself, warmth blooming in your chest.
"Well, anyway. Eat your soup, don' t torture your nurse too much." He teases, walking towards to the door.
"Thank you," you call sweetly.
He's halfway out the door when you suddenly sit up straighter, soup still in hand. "Oh! Sunghoon!"
He pauses, turning back with his eyebrows raises.
"Do you have grills on your fangs?"
Riki shoots his head up from his pillow. Sunghoon blinks, before laughing, "What?"
"Your fangs," you repeat, grinning and pointing to your own teeth. "Like the tooth gems? The shiny ones? Do you have those?"
Sunghoons brows lift in realization, "Oh. Me? Nah. I'm all natural," He smiles cooly, running his tongue across his, very prominent, upper canines before slipping through the door.
The door clicks shut behind him.
You smile, settling back into the bed with your soup feeling very satisfied.
"Uhm. Hello?"
You whip your head to the side. Riki is now propped up on his side, giving you a very dissatisfied look. His blonde hair is tousled from moving around on the pillows and he's pouting. barely, but it's there
You just stare at him for second, biting back your smile. The image of him last night flashes through your mind, him frantic and fussing, ordering soup and googling vitamins, worrying himself sick while you were having the best sleep of your life.
Now he's sulking over you asking his friend about his fangs.
Again.
He's so cute.
You say nothing, just lean forward and press a quick kiss to his lips. Soft, sweet, and entirely unbothered.
"Mwah, I love you."
Then you turn back to your soup like nothing happened, smiling into the rim of the container. You pretend not to hear the quiet breath escape him, for his sake.
SUMMARY: yang jungwon has never liked yn. he doesn't like how loud he is, he doesn't like how he disrupts class to make stupid jokes, and jungwon DEFINITELY doesn't like how kissable his lips are.
happy enoclock day 🔥🔥🔥!!! also jungwon is so fucking dense and in denial it hurts me and IM THE ONE WROTE IT 💔💔💔
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