#i had PLANS today but theodorus the asshole said NO

[juminly]

As The Rush Comes (Ikémen Vampire Theodorus Van Gogh x Reader)

Summary: You are at a nightclub with your friend Theodorus Van Gogh. The problem is, you want to be more than friends. Does he feel the same? Hell yes. Change is bound to happen. And it does. This one-shot was inspired by the song As the Rush Comes.   Read all 3 parts on AO3. Rating: Mature (explicit/coarse language, detailed mention of sexual acts) 

Tags: Modern AU, mutual pining, sexual tension/frustration, jealousy, dirty dancing. 

Warning: mention of the reader not remembering the events of a past night of heavy drinking and partying.  Word Count: 3500 approx. 

Club Music Playlist *Kiss you by Nadia Ali **Down to Love (Kyau & Albert Remix) by Armin Van Buuren feat. Ana Criado

***Still I Wait (Richard Durand’s In Search of Sunrise Remix) by Jonas Steur feat. Jennifer Rene. 

Song lyrics are in bold; look at this asterisks to know which song is playing in the background and play the song as you read -------------------------- *I'd wake up, and make love to you if I had you, I would touch you so much, but I'm not allowed to… Nadia Ali, bless her heart, was only adding salt to your wounds. You were already feeling salty enough for feeling the way you did and she didn’t make it any better. Why were you salty? While the song went on and on about how the vocalist just needed to wait for the perfect moment to kiss the one she wanted to show love to, you were here lamenting pathetically over Theodorus Van Gogh, the man that occupied your every waking thought and dream… and most recent fantasies.

The music was thrumming loudly in your ears, the discographies selected by this particular local DJ was always to your liking. The rhythmic beat of trance sending the club-goers into an ephemeral state of rapture as the dancefloor flocked with writhing bodies, the scent of alcohol, sweat and sex heady in the air. Were people living in some sort of state of drought? The thirst was real… and so palpable. You were not one to judge, you felt it too.

Thud… Thud… Thud… Was that the music or your pulse? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Would you pretend, we're only friends, if I kissed you, At least I can dream of you in a scene, when I'd kiss you.

You’ve dreamed of so many scenes, in so many different locations and in all of them, you were in the most compromising situations and positions. Holy fuck, just thinking about how those icy blue eyes staring into you while he lazily ran his tongue over his swollen lips, the ones you wanted to kiss and bite so damn much, that chiseled body of his positioned between your… No.. No… You told yourself you wouldn’t go there but your mind couldn’t help but wander.  The song had just been coaxing you to act on your impulses and you covered your ears, just to keep Nadia from tempting you more than you already were.

How many months has it been since the incident?

The office hottie, Arthur Conan Doyle, had thrown an extravagant birthday bash in his so-called crib, and to your own surprise, the man had exquisite taste and the entire thing was planned immaculately. Who had been his wingman during the entire process? The hot mister that was your companion at the club for the night. That was how, when and where you met him, much to your dismay.

You heard that things had gotten hot and heavy between you during that birthday party and you were literally flung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carried into Arthur’s bedroom. Things had gotten that heated… However, big emphasis on the word “heard” cause you unfortunately don’t remember jackshit from that fateful night and cursed yourself all the time for this.

His hands roughly groping you and his lips fiercely crashing down on yours… The things that could’ve happened… The things you could’ve done… You could ONLY imagine. Imagine, yes. Remember, no. The heavens indisputably had some mocking plot to make you miserable. Miserable? You definitely were. After that night, you were thrown into the friendzone. With a capital F.

Pining after a man that wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless it was to ruffle your hair like some puppy. You almost got your chance at some type of romance in your uneventful life… Still, things only got interesting when that asshole suddenly showed up, but it wasn’t like you were actually willing to admit that to him. You’d rather swallow his… Brain and heart, focus. Libido and hormones, get the fuck away. He wants me… He wants me not… I want everything he’s got.

Shut it, Nadia. You were already drowning in heaps of doubt and you’ve clearly… clearly had enough of her feeding you more fantasies and unlawful and excessively unadulterated thoughts and you were doubting yourself already. And what you decided to do? Drink yourself into oblivion, accompanied by the vexing perpetrator who had just gotten back from the men’s room. It was admiration and pining time for you. As he slowly approached you with long and sure strides, Theodorus was, is and will always be probably the most gorgeous, handsome piece of eye-candy that you’ve ever laid your eyes on and you were 99.99% sure that this statement was your true and unbiased opinion.

Beige dress pants hugged the length of those legs that carried him, giving you the chance to drool over the definition of his stature that you could see thanks to the tightness of the fabric, emphasizing a bit too much for your liking on his… No, don’t go there. Heat flooded your reddened cheeks as your thoughts scrambled wildly in your mind as he found his seat next to you. That’s always where you found yourselves. Together. Always. You get along so well. It’s bound to be this way, right? The string of fate and the butterflies of time managed to find a way to bring you together. While your internal ruminations besieged your mind, a rich baritone touched your ears, unmistakably his. “We probably should leave soon. I don’t want to suffocate in this clothed orgy.” You shot him an inquisitive look, silently asking him to elaborate on his point. “You look like you’re about to melt in that pretty little dress of yours, Hondje. I’d rather hop to any pub or have a drink at that klootzak’s place and deal with his moaning than this. At least his place isn’t as filthy as this hellish kennel.”

“You talk like an old man, Theo. Why don’t we just try to live a little?” He simply gave you a glare, a response that you knew very well. He wasn’t going to waste his breath on such mundane frivolities. It seemed that you would have to take the drinking party elsewhere. Clubs were clearly not Theo’s favourite destination.

You couldn’t help but giggle at this man’s dog analogies. As much as they pissed the shit out of you… Wait. Rewind. Did he just compliment what you were wearing...? He noticed?

For the first time in a while, you decided to try “letting loose” and go for something different. You would usually go for something, more like, anything black but today was different. In celebration of whatever weird feeling and eccentricity that came over you, you decided to go for a skimpy off-the-shoulder purple dress that kissed every curve of your luscious form, barely reaching the top of your mid-thigh and pushed your bosom in a way that accentuated your cleavage. You felt hot and you wanted to feel hot too.

**It's down to love tonight, This is where we are, As we turn into the light, Let’s make it last...

On any other day, Down to Love would’ve been one of your favourite songs to listen to but definitely not today. You were clearly not down to any kind of love. This is not where you wanted to be and you didn’t want this to last. You growled under your breath, enough to have Theodorus, the man of the hour… no, he was the man of your every-fucking-day and your every-goddamn-dream and fantasy, tilt his head to the side to cast a judging gaze at you, raising an arched eyebrow with a silent what-the-fuck is wrong with you.

There was so much that was wrong with you and he was the cause of it all. The prime suspect. The only one, this maddeningly handsome asshole.

Lips slick with moisture, your eyes lingered a little too long on the inviting gleam before you attempted to relax in your seat, while Theo remained hunched apathetically over the bar counter, nursing his drink thoughtlessly. Both of you were so accustomed to whatever it was that you were doing, you fell into a pattern that soon began to feel more like a ritual. You couldn’t even remember how you became his drinking buddy but there was something that Arthur said once… Both of you were not the type to party hard so it made it hard for him to have fun with the both of you, even though Theo and him spent an obscene amount of time together. You were kindred spirits. That was a fact.

Being around him made it hard to breathe. You noticed that not only the first button of his shirt was open, but now, the second one was too, giving you a good look of impeccably sculpted pectorals, his skin shining under the epilepsy-inducing lights of the nightclub while drops of sweats meandered down to places unknown, unexplored… and desired. With one arm propped on the counter and leaning his full weight to one side, his form was completely angled towards you and his eyes roamed appraisingly over your provocative dress and your overall physique. You knew that look, you’ve seen it before. It was the same way he scrutinized and examined art.

His gaze was now posed on your thighs, your dress hiked up even more on your silky skin as you crossed and uncrossed your legs restlessly. “Looking at something, big guy? My eyes are up here. You’ve been checking me out since we got here.” you quipped with a smirk. “Hm?” he hummed, as if you had ripped him away from the depth of his thoughts. You could see a faint blush on the top of his cheekbones… It was clearly only a sign of inebriation. Right? “Oh, I was just wondering who you’re trying to seduce.” he replied blankly before continuing. “You wouldn’t need to dress up like this to impress me.” His tongue swiped over his lower lip, wettening it before throwing his head back, draining his glass of whiskey and turning his body away, leaving you perplexed by his words.  What… What exactly did he mean by that? Shaking your thoughts away, you had enough wine in your system to finally get the words spilling from your lips. “Theo… Wanna dance?” Those three words prickled his ear drums and he turned to look at you with a judging smirk. “Is it playtime, Hondje?” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms at his expected remark, climbing off your bar stool and tapping your heeled foot on the black tile beneath you. Looking at him expectantly, your heart clenched, momentarily regretting your decision to build up the courage to take the first step. He was bound to embarass you somehow.

“I’m sure you can find lots of other pups and mutts to play with in that disgusting pile of bodies.” An affronted expression washed over his handsome face and you resisted the need to slap his smugness away. You began to tremble slightly and snapped at him “You suck, Theo!”. His reaction made you freeze for a second. His eyes were taking you in, gliding over your body from head to toe before locking with yours. “Would you like to take me for a test drive? Are you in heat, Hondje?” he practically purred.

“Fuck you, Theo.” Was he capable of doing anything but frustrate (and arouse) you? You could feel an intense heat building inside of you, your heart beating angrily in your chest as you seethed from his response. You blinked, completely outraged and offended as he dared to freaking chuckle at your contained outburst.

“You wish. Now, can you go bark at someone else and let me enjoy my bloody drink?” Not wanting to give him more of your precious time, you actually flipped him the bird this time, scowling at him in disbelief, all that wine in your blood giving way for your tongue to sharpen as the night went on. “Do you always have to be such an ass?”

The ear-splitting grin on Theo’s face suddenly transformed into a smirk… and a scowl? when a young man behind you asked you to dance. You couldn’t really register what the guy was saying. Something along the lines of “ I don’t know if he’s just stupid or blind” and honestly, you kind of agreed with him. As much as Theodorus Van Gogh was a genius at what he did, he was stupid for not giving in to you. You were ready to give him… your everything. You were in deep shit, being so in love with a man who would possibly not return your affections? He looked like the incarnation of heartbreak and didn’t that just make you giddy? Being around him almost made you… sarchotic.

Sarchotic or not. Now you had his full attention.

Those ocean blue eyes were trained on you, an unfamiliar predatorial aura reverberating from him, still seeping through Theodorus’ attempt to enshroud it with the negligible quirk of those lips, that half-smile that you knew too well. If he wanted a show, he’s gonna be getting one. Not that you really cared whether he enjoyed it or not, but the least you could do is actually enjoy the company of the… You looked at your newly appointed dance partner, who had just lead you to the dancefloor, to evaluate him.

Okay, he wasn’t too bad: a bit shorter and less muscular than Theo but his hair were waves of chocolate brown that were simply asking to be threaded through and pulled. You beamed at your partner, feeling a rush of adrenaline course through your blood, knowing that the handsome Dutch man had his eyes on you and you were going to put a damn show. Wait, it wasn’t a show. You were doing this for you. You didn’t give a fuck and just wanted to have some fun. Looking at the cutie in front of you, you raised your arms in the air and jumped to the beat of the music, body-rolling as you let the sinful rhythm of your racing thoughts lead your every movement. ***I wanted it, I needed it, I love the way your skin felt upon my skin, And I thought you felt the same but you threw me away, Threw me away and still

The man in front of you was definitely getting into the groove, slowly inching close to you and you were more than ready to welcome him. Your hands that were in the air were now resting on his shoulders, your fingers finding the inviting chocolate strands of his hair. His hands were on both sides of your hips, claiming control over the frantic sway of your hips, matching the booming tempo that filled the room. You licked your lips and bit them, feeling your heart race as you snuck a quick look at the bar counter, the expression on Theodorus’ face was absolutely feral… and bloodthirsty.

Good thing you had bitten your lips because you were about to let out an obscene moan as he looked like he was ready to slam you into a wall and fuck you senseless, growling in your ear: You’re already so wet for me, Hondje, so ready for me to slide inside you…. You’ve been teasing me all damn night and when I stuff you with my cock, make you mine… You’ll be screaming my name. A looming presence was suddenly behind you, a hand gripping your hip and forcefully pulling you away from the “cutie”. You had absolutely no idea what happened, when it happened and how it happened. You could’ve sworn that you heard something along the lines of “She’s mine” but it was most probably your brain playing tricks on you. Or not.

“Are you trying to play games with me, Knabbeltje?” His heavy hand on your hip clenched tightly, his fingertips digging in your soft flesh while you drank in the rumble of his voice in your ear, velvety smooth yet deep enough to shake you to the bone, capable of making your knees buckle in weakness. You fought the temptation to rub your legs together and continued the lascivious sway of your hips from side to side in a rhythm that was your own and one that Theodorus would come to learn. Cutie, who? Theodorus was the only person you knew. All your senses acutely aware of him and he made sure of that. Only a breath of air seperated your bodies yet, he was so close but still felt so far before he yanked your back brusquely, your back hitting the vast plain of his chest and the softness of your derriere grazing his crotch. You closed your eyes and hummed with a nonchalant tone, your back arching as you reached your arms behind you, gripping Theo by his nape and threading your digits leisurely through his chestnut locks.

“You really want to know, hm?” You crooned and he tensed briefly but soon relaxed behind you, one hand caressing the curve of your hips, his hold on you was firm and steady, making you feel the heat radiating from his body and enveloping you with the scent of his cologne mixed with whiskey, intoxicating you even more than the wine you drank.

One of his large hands snakes up the curve of your waist, lightly grazing the side of your soft mound and trailing up your neck and resting there. He rolled his hips against yours, your body following his every moment as he dictated your every single motion. The warmth of his breath tickled your ear as he crooned sultrily in your ear. “I could eat you all up, Knabbeltje… right fucking now.” I don't wanna feel rejection, don't wanna have no regrets… Is this a good decision or will you look for someone else? Leave me all by myself...

“Is that so?” you could hear your own smile in your voice and could hear an inherent raspiness in it too. Your thoughts swiveled with yearning and your judgement was clouded by your love for this man… and your inebriation. Your mutual ministrations continued as he grinded his hips at an excruciating pace, drawing out the torture that you were both suffering from. His long fingers were now teasing the column of your neck, careening over your sensitive skin and sending shivers up and down your spine. Slowly, he wrapped his hand on your neck, pressing only lightly and bit the tip of your earlobe before sucking on it, letting his tongue glide over its seams. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true. You want me to repeat myself?”

“I didn’t say any such thing, Theodorus.” You dared to use his full name, intentionally triggering him. His grip tightened on your neck and warm breath caressing your ear. “I’m not all bark like you.” He truly thought that you were all bark but you were prepared and intended to do lots of biting, now that he was so near. You tightened your grip on his strands, making him groan in response. “I hate that you make me feel this way.” you breathed out slowly, trying to ignore the tightening of anticipation rousing in your chest. “Enlighten me… What kind of way do I make you feel, hm?” It was now his turn to tease you. “You know how I feel about you…” you pouted, grudgingly taking a sharp inhale before you carried on with this morphed, semblance of a confession. “You keep… you keep messing with my head, Theo.”

“You’re doing much worse to me, mijn liefste.” Oh God, you didn’t know what he said but you were positive that it was not some dog related insult and your heart drummed even harder in your chest. Why did this man have so much control over you? His voice was like whiskey and chocolate, dark, decadent and  heavy with yearning, a blazing fire in your core, an excited tremor coursed through your veins like lightning, but not once did you rush the wicked to and fro of your hips, brushing your softness against the harsh ropes of sinew that made him the Adonis that he was.

Your cheeks were rosy as the pink dusk that painted clear skies and he saw that as you twisted your chest to look back and up at him. His fierce stare reflected in your glimmering eyes, your pupils dilating clearly, making them appear almost darkened in their shade. It would be blasphemous to say that Theodorus was anything but completely mesmerizing. “Don’t give me those eyes, Knabbeltje... or I promise I’ll take you here and now.”

I love to see you smile, I love, my love… As much as the thought had you reeling, you wanted the awaited spectacle to be a private one. Gazing straight in his almost glowing orbs of sapphire, he had the look of a man who was born ready to ravage you and rearrange your insides. Leaning down, he drawled against your lips with a huskiness that sent you into a frazzled state of need.

“When I fuck you, I’m going to make sure you always remember it. The only thing that’s gonna spill from those pretty lips is my name.”

------------ Read Part II  HERE.  Tagging le Theo simp squad + those who have been so kind to send me their ideas on what the “dirty dancing scenario” should be like: @delicateikemenmemes @sweetlittlemouse @nad-zeta @nafeary @raymiazaki @munarisblog @karmaaf​ (sorry if I forgot anyone else)  Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikevamp theo #theodorus van gogh #ikevamp theo x reader #ikemen vampire scenario #ikemen vampire fanfic #ikemen vampire theo x reader #ikevam theo #theo van gogh #ikemen series #otome #cybird

[rokutouxei]

one fear.jpg

ikemen vampire: temptation in the dark theodorus van gogh/reader | gen | 2013

trying to get theo to like a cat? near impossible, right? not for you! + bonus: Arthur is an asshole 😊 | this is a crackfic leave me alone | [ao3]

“Calico? Calico, where are you?”

Cat brush in one hand and an old hand towel in another, you walk through the quiet hallways of the mansion trying to find the little kitten that had wandered into your life a week ago. You had just finished cleaning up after lunch, and you had a little bit of downtime before taking down the morning’s laundry—so you decided maybe you’d give her a little brush, maybe a little scrub down to get the dirt off her fur. After all, she needs to be clean, as she’d taken a habit out of sleeping next to you in your own bed (yes, in your own bed, where you had been banished to sleep whenever you felt like “choosing the cat over Theo”).

Calico, you called her, because of her tricolored coat. You asked Theo to give her a Dutch name, but with a scoff and narrowed eyes he refused to give her one. Not that you minded; a name could wait—and you already had a plan hatching in your mind on how you would get Theo to absolutely adore her to bits.

First things first though, you needed to find her. 

“Calicoooo, where are—” you see a familiar face round a corner, his blue eyes reflecting a sort of mischievous contentment, a spring in his step. “Oh, Arthur. Just you.”

“Oh, darling, just me? That stings,” he jabs, but that smirk on his face. Classic Arthur. “Where’re you off to? A little adventure?”

“No, I’m looking for the kitten,” you say. “Leonardo and I left her with Lumiere earlier today in the library to play, but now she’s gone missing! I worry she’s walked out and off.”

“Aw, I’m sure she hasn’t,” Arthur says, awfully confident. “In fact, I did see her just now. Having the time of her life. Have you gone by Theo’s room?”

Theo’s room? To go looking for a cat? “Well, no, I hadn’t thought to look there.”

“You should, ‘cause I just saw the little furball right there.” Arthur ushers you closer to him, a conspiratorial smile on his face, and you take a step so he can whisper in your ear. “And just between you and me, you should probably gently enter the room. Don’t want to disturb whatever’s happening in there and spook the cat. Something interesting’s going on.”

“O-okay,” you say, and Arthur returns to his usual smug self. “Thank you for telling me, Arthur.”

“No problem, anything for our little miss,” he says, before tipping an invisible hat and walking towards the direction of his own room, the spring still in his step.

Now, in any other regular day, you would have taken the extra joy in Arthur’s countenance as a little more than just slightly suspicious. But you were really worried over where the little kitten had gone; so much so that it all went over your head. You do just as Arthur’s told, turning a hallway so you’re headed towards Theo’s room instead of the back garden, and hope she’s still where Arthur last saw her.

On your way to Theo’s room, your eyes pass over the gazebo lying in the garden, and your mind returns to that time last week when you’d found Calico.

You were in the garden looking for King—Theo’s dog—because you were going to take him out for a long-awaited walk. Old-style leash in one hand, you were shouting his name loudly, but the large golden retriever didn’t seem to want to show himself to you.

You’d gone around most of the garden without luck, until near the gazebo, you spotted his brown tail, wagging excitedly. He was crouched under some bushes, only a tiny bit of his rear end and his tail visible from where you are. “Found you, King!” you said out loud to yourself, speed-walking towards him. “I can’t believe you made me take so much time looking for you, what are you doing down there?” You crouch down on your knees to pet him and get his attention.

When you do, you see what’s got him so busy under that bush.

A kitten!

Scruffy, dirty, probably no more than a month old, King was making a mess out of the poor kit, leaving it soppy and wet with his slobber. You took out a handkerchief you’d kept in your pocket to gently wipe down the kitten before picking it up.

The small kit meowed at you, eyes wide, mouth seemingly shaped into a smile.

With one look, you were in love with her; near-sprinting, you dashed into the Comte’s room to ask if you could keep her.

(Later that day, Theo would frown and ask why you hadn’t asked him first if you could keep the kitten. You said he has no say in the matter, and he teased you for being an insolent dog.)

Now, the little kitten you’d picked up in the bushes looked a little less vulnerable than it did last week. You’d fed her meat and gave her milk, gave her a bath and a bed made of old hand towels to sleep on. You’d spent most of your free time over the past week tending to the kitten. Most importantly, you think, you’d given her a family that would take care of her for her whole life.

You turn the corner to Theo’s room, spotting the door slightly ajar. You wonder if Theo’s in his room, but you suppose he isn’t, if Calico is in there. After all, Theo isn’t exactly good with cats. He adamantly denies being afraid of them, saying that he just doesn’t like how they’re fickle and snobbish—in comparison to dogs, that is—but you know that maybe he really is a little afraid of their slightly sharp claws. Earlier last week he’d outright refused to be in the same room as Calico, until you’d shot him your best puppy dog eyes and nearly cried out of sadness that he wasn’t getting along with the little kit. Now, at least, he tolerates her presence, albeit he still doesn’t approach her or mind her much.

I’ll change that, you tell yourself. I’ll make him love her so much he won’t get his hands off of her, maybe I’ll even get jealous.

Finally, you stand in front of Theo’s room, the door open by maybe an inch off the frame, and you hear Theo mumbling to himself from inside. You do as Arthur’s told you—despite all previous experiences saying you shouldn’t!—and peek discreetly into the room, the gap between the door and the doorframe revealing the unbelievable. Theo, sat on the edge of his bed, your little calico kitten in his visibly trembling hands.

(Oh no, he’s so scared.)

“You know, you came into her life pretty quickly, but you have something you have to know,” Theo says, his voice shaking (the poor man!). You bite your lower lip to hold back a laugh. “You little… filthy poesje… I loved her first! So you don’t get to take her away like that.”

You lean against the wall next to the door to brace yourself. Arthur is a monster! He could have told you so you could prepare your heart, but he didn’t! You press a hand against your mouth trying to silence your snickers, but when you hear Theo letting out a panicked screech and spot Calico next to you a few seconds later, there’s no stopping the laughter that rolls out of you. Theo is by the doorway in seconds.

“How long have you been there?” he asks, voice stern. His ears are red though.

“Long enough,” you say, grinning. “Were you threatening my little baby?”

He grimaces. “I won’t stoop down to threatening a cat.”

“And yet you did,” you say. You pull him closer to you and steal a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “Jealous?”

“No,” he retorts, bringing you into the room. Calico follows your intertwined footsteps, as the both of you end up on Theo’s bed. It was rare for Theo to hide his feelings from you. He’s like that, seeming rude, selfish, stingy with his words—but he’s very straightforward now, in his very own Theo fashion. So to straight up deny he harbored any ill feelings? This rivalry must be intense! Theo pulls you into his lap with a strong arm and you rest against him. These are all practiced moves, cuddles you’ve mastered.

You lower your voice near-mockingly, “‘I loved her first,’” you imitate him, and he frowns.

“Well I did,” Theo insists, pressing his face against your neck. He sighs at the contact, and you do too. “I just needed to make sure she knew.”

“She’s not stealing me away from you, you know,” you try to reassure him, and you think softly about how silly this is. How cute. How this is a story you’ll be telling in the future. You run your fingers through Theo’s hair gently.

Theo only mumbles. “What makes you like cats so much anyway.”

“‘Cause they mostly remind me of us,” you say, and you feel him tense up. You chuckle. “Mostly because ‘I love you but I’m taking none of your shit’.”

“That is like you,” he admits, and you smile.

“Why do you hate cats anyway?”

“I don’t hate them,” Theo begins, voice strained. “I just don’t get along with them.”

You shrug. “Did you know cats are awfully loyal to their humans?”

“Never crossed my mind,” he says.

“Well, now you know,” you say. “They’re aloof and won’t pay attention to anyone out of their circle, but to those people they do consider part of family, they’re very protective. And clingy. Much subtler than dogs, but they’re really affectionate animals, if you know how they show their love.” You sigh. “Kind of like you.”

He’s huffy. “That’s an insult, isn’t it?”

“It isn’t!” you chuckle. “I swear, it isn’t. You know what I mean. You’re more dog than cat, but you do show affection a little differently than everyone else.” A beat. “And that’s fine! Because I know it’s how you show that you care. Sometimes it involves your claws. But that’s okay. Because I understand your love language. The same way you need to learn a cat’s love language.”

Theo pauses.

Got him.

“I love you,” you say, just in case, just to make sure. Just to drive it in.

That’s it, you tell yourself, patting yourself mentally on the back. That’s how you win.

Theo sighs in defeat and just hugs you closer to him, to which you respond with a kiss on his forehead. He only huffs “Fine,” before staring at the cat on the floor. She looks up expectantly.

He’s still trembling, but he reaches out a hand to rub Calico’s little head. She purrs. It makes the both of you smile.

-

later

“How did you know where to find me? Or us, for that matter.”

“Oh, well, Arthur said he saw something interesting, and to go to your room, is all.”

“Interesting?”

“He seemed in awfully high spirits.”

A sigh. “Oh, branleur.”

-

earlier

“Shit! Fuck!” The sound of Theo’s agitated, exasperated shouting from across the hall draws Arthur’s attention. Out to take a break from writing, Arthur feels like he’s found a goldmine. He quietly dashes from where he is to the unlocked door of Theo’s room; Arthur gently pushes it open by a crack to look inside. “Stomme kut! Kuthoer! Dikzak! Kutfiets!” The little miss’ little Calico is playing at Theo’s feet, jumping up and down trying to get up on him, tiny claws digging in the hem of his pants. Without a break, “Merde! Putain! Fils de pute! Crétin!” Theo bends down trying to pick the kitten up, but every time he does, the kitten tries to jump on his shoulder, making him flinch. “Fucker! Dégénéré! Krijg de klere!”

A satisfied smile crawls over Arthur’s face. “Three languages? Must be tough,” he hums, unable to hold back the cackle that escapes his mouth.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire theo #ikevamp theo #fics #fic #rating:G