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readerinsertfanfiction · 3 years

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Oasis

Fandom: Mystic Messenger

Character: Jaehee Kang

Prompt: Originally meant for the Mystic Messenger Reverse Big Bang, but that fell through. Now I’m posting this as an individual piece since I did like the idea and poor Jaehee already gets so little attention. No art, unfortunately, but anyone is welcome to make one?

Witch!MC

Word count: 1000+

The sound that announced her arrival was a chime of crystals meeting, a chorus of 'tingeling' that resonated through the little shop in a calming manner that soothed Jaehee’s senses. It left a strong impression on the usually pragmatic secretary whose hand instantly went towards her nose as the thick scent of burnt herbs, lavender and chamomile hit her. Not out of unpleasantness, but out of surprise, for the scents tickled her nostrils before they settled and filled her very being.

"Welcome," a voice spoke from behind the wooden counter, equally as soothing as the smell, and voice as clear as the sound of the crystals at the door with a comely warm undertone. A serene smile played around the lips of the young self-dubbed witch that Jaehee had agreed to meet. Surrounding them were bigger and smaller plants. Jaehee vaguely recognised a few of them, knowing that the succulents were believed to purify the air and that the herbs were meant to be burned. Along the shelves crystals of all sizes could be found, a little note coming along with them that explained their properties. A recent fad, Jaehee knew, but one that mr. Han wished to invest in, for cats. For everything involved cats with the man.

"Good day," was Jaehee’s quick response, shedding her initial surprise as she approached the counter in a few swift steps. "I'm Jaehee Kang, we have been corresponding over mail to discuss some business opportunities-"

A laugh cut Jaehee off, a slow and gentle rumble rather than a mocking one that she was used to receiving. "Too stiff. Yes, I have been expecting you," the shop owner answered and Jaehee suppressed a frown from forming, not wanting to break her professionalism. It had been surprisingly hard trying to secure any sort of appointment for C&R International within this particular branch. Jaehee was loath to ruin it now.

“Ah, yes,” Jaehee spoke, “we spoke over the mail,” and shifting the weight to another leg she pulled out the documents she had prepared. Easy and comprehensible for a layman to read. Jaehee had enough sense and experience to know that these types never read through the entire thing anyway. “As you know C&R International is planning on--”

In her years of working for mr. Han, Jaehee prided herself in being able to read people down to the minute. Yet, Jaehee had a hard time reading the expression of the witch that was falling somewhere between serene and the picture of calm, but at the same time drowsy to the point of sleepiness. Halting in the middle of her sentence the female gulped as she ran a finger over her ear, as if trying to swipe a strand of hair out of her face. A force of habit from the times before she had a short coupe. “I’m sorry,” she chuckled, “I won’t be long,” and heaving another sigh she opened the report at the relevant page. This time she tried to avoid the witch’s gaze, feeling rather embarrassed at her lack of ability to entertain and charm.

A warm hand over Jaehee’s arm brought her attention back to the shop owner, her eyes widening at the kind touch as the witch smiled again, long wavy hair shaking from side to side before retreating. “I think some honey mint will do you good,” the witch spoke, the voice as steady as every movement made when plucking some stems from a plant to prepare a fresh brew.

“You wrote to me about opening an essential oils line for cats.” The discussion started smoothly and Jaehee relaxed at not having to lead; “I made some samples, but I was hoping for an actual cat to sample on.” Turning around the shop owner rummages through the cabinets behind, pulling out some woven herbs tied by some hennep and clear bottles of fluids.

“Most essential oils are harmful to cats, after all. But I’m sure you already read about that.”

Blinking Jaehee adjusted her glasses as she eyed the witch, evidently surprised at the forwardness and initiative shown. “I’m sorry,” she starts to apologise, not having expected to discuss actual ideas already, “I can bring Elizabeth the third the next time to test out the samples.” Always quick to adapt Jaehee offers the solution as she wonders if mr. Han would allow his cat to be a test subject. The project was, after all, set up with his white feline friend in mind after all. “Can you tell me what this is? And what the properties are?” They are the logical next questions that follow as Jaehee writes along as the explanation is given.

The next time Jaehee comes over she does have a cat in arms, though it wasn’t Elizabeth the third like promised. Mr. Han wouldn’t allow it and the secretary was about to apologise for the deceit when the shop owner simply laughs, head shaking as the witch reassures Jaehee that it is quite fine.

“You apologise too much for what is out of your hands.” Jaehee is told and she frowns at that statement, feeling an urge to apologise once more before relenting and deciding that there is some truth. But it isn't like she is in any position to refuse, being a secretary of a man whose faults meant more work for her. It earns her another cup of tea; this time it is chamomile with roses.

"I have a gift for you.” By the third time Jaehee visits she is more at ease with the self-proclaimed witch, a smile already curling up. "I thought you could use one," came the clarification from the shop-owner and Jaehee isn't sure how to take it as an envelope is pushed into her direction. Brown and square with an obvious protrusion in the middle.

As mr. Han's secretary Jaehee was used to all sorts of bribery. The type given in juice boxes, the type poured into expensive gifts, even the type that was as blatant as a stacked envelope. They came from sleazy figures with crisp appearances and ambition in their eyes. They came with phrases like: “I hope this suits mr. Han’s tastes well,” or “I hope to hear more soon.”.

But this time it didn't fit in any of those categories, not in appearance nor in character, or even in address. Jaehee had taken the envelope in hands without much of a second thought, or a question until she pulled out the amethyst necklace and a ticket to Zen's newest production. "This..?" Jaehee's heart jumps with anxiety coursing through her as she wonders how to return a gift without seeming rude. "I can't accept this," she wanted to say, but the words were stuck in her throat as she looked down at the gifts in hands. A gift one would give a friend.

Recognising Jaehee's silent distress a hand finds its way once more onto the secretary’s arm, a warm pinch given reassuring the female.

"Amethyst to help you relax, you have been tense," comes the explanation, "and the tickets are something I won, but I have no one to go with, but I know that you are a fan."

The explanation makes sense. They had talked about Zen briefly, though Jaehee had always kept her composure as she was on the job and didn’t want to lose her professional touch. Yet, the whole idea didn’t sit too well with Jaehee who had never gained any merit through the easy way.

"A gift from a friend," the answer is further supplied and Jaehee blinks, wondering when the two of them had become friends. It had all happened so strangely naturally, Jaehee felt as she turns her eyes up at the shop-owner with a serene smile, another copy of the ticket waving in hands. The knowledge that it isn't a bribe makes Jeahee feel better as she admires the gifts, wondering if she was allowed to accept this so easily.

"Friend?" she repeats, and this time she doesn't hide her wonder knowing that it isn’t minded, as long as Jaehee kept an open mind. Which the secretary always does, in eagerness, but also in gratefulness. It is a little routine they had figured out together after the first conversation.

The endeavour for essential oils for cats failed, but Jaehee didn’t mind it. The next time the chime of the crystals announced her arrival there was another greeting heading her way. This time a leatherbound notebook full of scraps could be found in place of documents. The amethyst crystal fashioned around her neck tickled by short brown hair that is slowly reaching for her shoulders.

“Ready for class?” The joke headed her way and Jaehee chuckles, a shy nod coming from her as she asks for lavender tea. Mr. Han was demanding as ever, after all, but Jaehee felt better knowing that there is an oasis to which she can return.

#jaehee kang #jaehee #mm jaehee #mysme jaehee #mystic messenger jaehee #mystic messenger #mm #mysme

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bestestbird · 6 years

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Type O - Part 19

2000 words in celebration of reaching 1000 followers :D Thank you everyone!

Part 1, Part 18

It took a few minutes of no pain for him to feel brave enough to pull out. As removed his teeth more blood gushed out, running rivets down his arm to drop onto the tiled floor, luckily not hitting the shower mat. Keith hurried for the toilet roll, ripping a handful off and pressing it onto his arm. The wound didn't heal like Shiro's had, and blood quickly soaked into the tissue, forcing him to pressed harder.

"Shit," he cursed as the paper became soaked through. Frantically, he grabbed more, and then more as that didn't work. He pressed hard enough to bruise, but still blood splattered into a mess on the floor. His body shook with nerves that masked the pain of his grip and arm. Eventually, when only a single unsullied square of toilet roll was left on the cardboard, the blood flow slowed, and stopped.

Heartbeat slowing, Keith finally relaxed, posture slumping, but hand still firmly gripped on his arm. He surveyed the bathroom in its bloody mess, and decided he could salvage it alone, but before that he needed something more permanent on his arm.

Carefully, he peeled back the tissue. It didn't bleed again, but it looked like any jolt could get it started. Trying to avoid the blood, Keith worked his way out of the bathroom, leaving bloody hand prints on the door.

In the next room he went for his bag. Rooting around was hard with only one hand, but he managed to find some plasters, which whilst clearly not enough, were better than nothing. He'd accidentally bought a plaster roll instead of the individual ones, which for once seemed like good luck.

Forgoing scissors, he ripped open the packet, pulled off as much of the white non-sticky paper as he could and began to wrap the whole roll around his arm. It got easier around halfway through, and once he was done he thought it didn't look that bad.

Now no longer panicking, he went back to the bathroom. The shower head was detachable, so he could use that to wash the blood off. Luckily the drain was the same height as the floor, so he didn't need anything to soak up the bloody water.

First, he washed his hands, then pulled on his clean underwear that was sitting next to the towel, flushed away the bloody toilet roll and set about drowning the bathroom. It seemed to take forever. Every time he thought he was done there was always another little patch he'd missed.

When he was fairly sure there wasn’t anything left, soaked, and too fed up to keep looking, he grabbed the towel, dried off his legs, and went back out to get some clothes.

On the night stand his phone had lit up. Keith paused, contemplating ignoring it, it was on silent for a reason. A few steps closer told him that his notifications had changed, he now had six missed calls from Lance. With a groan he turned it off and ignored it in favour of getting dressed.

He needed something long sleeved to hide his arm. There was a black t-shirt, a red t-shirt, and white t-shirt, all short sleeves. It was winter. How could he have not packed anything warm?

On his second look through, he pulled on a piece of dark purple, nearly black fabric, and a jumper came out. Finally.

Shoving it on along with a pair of jeans he went back to look at his phone. Still six missed calls, and now ten missed text. It was also 20:30, which meant he was late for breakfast. Pulling it off the charger, he hoped that there was still plenty left to eat, and shoved it in his pocket, then paused.

The door key. Where had he put it? With a groan that was almost a sob he turned back around and searched. First, his coat, not there, then his bag, not there, then yesterday’s clothes, not there. Another check of his phone told him 20:40.

He was starving. How long did blood food last?

With a noise of pure frustration, he went back into the backroom. Not there. 20:47.

Forget it. He wouldn't lock the door, he could come back and look for the key later.

Hand reaching for the door he looked down, and there sitting in the lock was the key. He almost screamed. Jaw clenched he pulled the key out and slammed the door behind him loud enough that any of his neighbours would hear, and he marched off to get something to eat.

By the time he'd reached the top of the stairs he'd calmed down, and the smell of food that hit him when the door opened made him forget all about his morning fiasco.

Keith remembered the way from last night, down the corridor to the bar. Hunk was there again, a couple of empty plates in his hands.

"Evening," the man said cheerily, "late start?"

"Yeah," Keith mumbled, looking for a free table, and finding he had plenty of choice, "had some trouble with the shower."

Hunk chuckled, and put one plate down, "I guessed," he said, and raised a finger to his head, "your hair's still wet."

Absently, Keith pressed a hand against his neck, feeling the a few loose strands. It was damp.

"So, what can I get you?" Hunk continued as Keith chose a chair near the fire. It had a good crackle going, warming his toes and fingers.

"What do you have?" Keith asked stretching out, feeling his bones click.

"Plenty left. You missed some of the regulars, and our other guest isn't much of a blood drinker.”

"Oh." Keith wasn’t sure what that meant.

"Human.” Hunk elaborated without prompting, “Cute tho'. Pretty blue eye, and he loved my cooking." There was some clattering that sounded like plates, but Keith couldn’t see what Hunk was doing.

"That's great,” he said, lacking anything else to add.

"And a flirt, he said-."

"Hunk," a deep chiding voice said. They both turned, and saw Shiro was walking towards them, a knowing smile on his face. He had a long grey coat on, which meant it must have been cold outside, and Keith’s long jumper didn’t look out of place.

"Evening," Hunk replied, "I didn't hear you come in."

"Too busy gossiping?" Shiro teased, eyes wrinkling with a smile as Hunk rolled his eyes.

"Do you want breakfast?" It was part question part threat.

Shiro held up his hands in defence, saying, "sorry, sorry," as he walked closer.

Hunk snorted at him, and called out, “I’ll get you two a little of everything.”

Shiro called back, “thanks,” as he reached the chair across from Keith, who was trying very hard to concentrate on anything other than him as every look bought back memories of blood and bathrooms.

"Can I sit?" Shiro asked, already sitting, his coat folded over the back of the chair. Keith fiddled nervously with the sleeve of his injured arm.

He didn’t seem put off by Keith’s lack of response as he continued, "I know I'm early. My apologies, I thought you'd be finished."

"Shower," Keith muttered, looking into the fire, and Shiro nodded, sniffed, and shifted in his heat, looking suddenly perturbed.

There was a moment of silence before he asked, "everything okay?"

"Yes," Keith said far too quickly, then slower, "why do you ask?"

The fire popped in a short silence, then Shiro said, "a lot of reason," he paused again, watching the fire. It danced in his eyes, a darker red due to the grey. It was surprisingly pretty. He caught Keith’s eye as he finished, "but mainly because you smell like blood. Your blood."

Shit, right, Vampire, but how could he even tell it was Keith's? Never mind.

"It's just a scratch." Keith lied, quickly turning his head away.

"Okay...," Shiro said softly, leaving a longer pause, "can I have a look at it?"

Keith sank into his chair, ready to say no, but he made the mistake of looking back at Shiro. He looked so... so worried, that Keith couldn't say no.

"Fine." He wasn’t pouting.

Pulling back his sleeve, he stuck his arm out, and Shiro's eyebrows rose to his hairline, as he gave him a clear 'that doesn't look like a scratch’ look. Keith ignored it and began to unravel his copious plastering.

When he finally got to the wound Shiro let out a small sad sounding sigh, and Keith stopped.

"What?" He asked.

"No, I'm sorry," Shiro said, waving his hand like he was trying to get rid of something.

Keith was about to ask what for when he continued, "you were teething this morning, weren't you?" Keith nodded and Shiro used the same hand to scrub at his face, "I thought you'd be okay for one night. It-it gets worse the more you drink. Mine only ever came every few days."

"It's fine," Keith said, meaning it, but Shiro didn’t look convinced.

Keith started to cover his arm back up when Shiro said, "wait." His fingers lightly brushed Keith's wrist as he spoke, "I can heal that for you."

Keith looked at him suspiciously but didn’t pull away. It wasn't that he didn't believe Shiro could do it, it was that he didn't trust how it could be done.

"How?" He asked word coming out slowly.

Shiro gave him a bashful half smile, like he’d read his mind, "a bit of my blood, a bit of saliva, and it'll be gone."

Keith didn't move, a sudden flush appearing on his cheeks at the thought of his last meal.

Clearing his throat, a little awkwardly, Shiro added, "you could drink from my arm this time."

He glanced down to Shiro's arm, then back up to his wide worried eyes.

"Fine," he said again, unable to win.

Shiro's smile lit up his face, and Keith was starting to hate it.

He shifted forwards in his seat to bring his mouth to Shiro's arm, but Shiro quickly stopped him, one hand against his shoulder.

"Wait," he looked around Keith's chair, towards where Hunk had disappeared to, "does Hunk know?"

Keith glance back, and said, "no," unsure if that was good or bad.

"Okay,” Shiro seemed pleased with that, “this is going to sound weird, and I'll explain, but you probably don't want him seeing that,” Keith was fine with that, he didn’t want Hunk seeing anyway, “so we should take this to the toilet." He hadn’t been expecting that.

"Seriously?" He asked, mouth slightly open.

"Yeah,” Shiro jerked in to the right, “it's just around the corner."

Part of Keith felt like changing his mind, but another louder part said he'd already committed. So, when Shiro stood he stood too. They went around the corner, and Shiro pushed Keith into the tiny one-person toilet first. He had to squeeze back against the bowl to fit and Shiro came in after.

The door clicked behind them, and Keith was suddenly aware of how very tall and broad Shiro was. Until he knelt down and began to roll up his sleeve.

Feeling awkward standing there with Shiro suggestively in front of him, Keith flopped down onto the seat, and as he watched Shiro slowly reveal his white skin with a prominent blue vein that was begging to be bitten...what was he going to do again?

This time was less embarrassing as Shiro moved to Keith's side, letting him keep his legs squeezed closed. He lifted his arm to Keith's mouth, and not needing any guidance Keith bit down. Sweet, warm copper filled his mouth, and he gulped it down. Just like last time, it filled him, warm and tingling, pooling in him and sating something, but unlike last time Shiro gently pulled his arms away after only a few gulps, and that sick feeling didn't hit him. Instead he was left wanting more.

"Now your arm," Shiro said, and dejectedly Keith raised his arm as he licked every last drop he could from his lips.

I left it at the good bit because I am very cruel ;)

I also thought I’d get a lot more into 2000 words. I was hoping to at least start the dynamic explanation, but oh well, for another time.

Also, figured out it was actually the read more that was causing the problems. I’ve left it out, so sorry to everyone who has to scroll past this!

Part 20

#Vampire AU #sheith #voltron #a/b/o dynamics #minor self harm

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ladyemberswrites · 7 years

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Vested Interest_chapter I

Title: Vested interest

Pairing: Aluseras( Alucard x Seras)

Fandom: Hellsing/Hellsing Ultimate

Warnings: None

Part 1/?

Summary: Seras has feelings for Alucard, and so does he, however, to Seras, she knows her master better than anyone and knows how he can be and what he is capable of and is completely unsure of her former master intentions or the length of his apparent devotion, and accompanied by an ever changing world, old allies dead, as new ones rise, she wonders if she will be able to pull through, as well as be able to maintain a romantic relationship with her master?

A/N: This is a serious canon-divergence and is apart of an Au, I’m creating, so this is kind of the first part.

“ Have you changed your mind, yet?”

Seras huffs, before chugging down a significant amount of ice, cold beer and contemplated whether or not to drink until she was too plastered to stand. She couldn’t do this now or more like she didn’t want to deal this now, it was childish of her, she knew, but! But! - UGH!

She just didn’t know what to do. Her heart said one thing, while the more reasonable, sane, logical side of her brain completely argued against her acting on impulsive emotions.

“ If you were human you probably would’ve damned your liver right about now.”

She finally removed the glass from her lips, placing it delicately upon the bar table with a click.

She looked at him this time for the first time since they’ve been here.

Here, being a bar, a bar named Igor’s, promptly named after the owner Igor, who was just as ancient as her former Master, except for the fact that he was of the werewolf variety, and except for the fact he did appear worn down by age, from the hard wrinkles by his eyes, the rigid scar that tore through his left eye sealing it shut and a strip of flesh ripped from the right side of his face, giving a grotesque view of his sharp, pearly white canines.

He was quiet, a type of no nonsense man, responded in gruff, grunts and growls and is an extremely large individual, standing a good two feet above her master. And speaking of her master, Igor wasn’t his biggest fan and wasn’t afraid to show it, since he busted up his bar in some petty fight. Breaking hundreds of bottles of expensive liquor and countless damages in infrastructure. Surprisingly, enough her master paid for the damages with 70% interest drawn from one of the his, probably many treasuries that he has hidden all over western Europe. He was a king before, at least she hopes that’s where his money is coming from, either way she really didn’t wanna know.

And grudgingly and beyond her comprehension, he let her master come back, he still didn’t like him, but left generous tips, so he left it at that. From what she could tell her master seemed quite fond of the bar. It was small, cozy even and surprisingly, sit -spot clean and she also suspects that honestly what caught master attention the most was that it was pretty quiet, never too crowded and was simplistic in design. For Seras she could almost call it home, she found the place soothing to be in, many times she found herself on raining days, lounging about and reading one of the many novels she picked from her endless library. Not to mention Igor served more than booze and had a array of coffee and teas, much to her pleasure.

But she was getting off track here, trying to avoid the topic at hand.

From the looks of it he hadn’t moved his gaze from her not once, and it unnerved her to know end, as he peered at her with half-lidded eyes and a passive gaze, which perturbed her more because of the ridiculous beard. He appeared so different……..with that thing on his face, and she desperately hid the urge to want shave it off his smug face.

“ Your one to talk, that’s your fifth glass of scotch.” she nodded towards the shot glass in his left hand, while the other supported his chin. He was also, startlingly, dressed casual, a white dress shirt and black slacks, it was a breather, to actually see him in normal clothing, and not any of his tone deaf attire that he is, so fond of wearing.

“ I don’t get as drunk easily as you, my dear.”

She stuck her tongue at him, mainly because he was right one beer was usually enough to have her slurring her words and giggling like a lune, but she’d be darned if she admitted that to him.

There was a moment of stillness occasionally sipping on their respective beverages, as they listened to the news which was currently splayed up the small television that sat at, well more like hung at an angle over the bar, it was cracked and had many wires sticking out of it, but apparently it’s been working for years, seeing that not once did it short circuit, since they’ve been hanging out here.

Seras, barely paid attention, one thing that about being inhuman these days is that human politics have no affect on her anymore and second, British politics are hell rising or anything involving politics really, and lucky she didn’t have the responsibility to vote now.

Alucard listened more closely, yet remained apathetic, it was all Greek to him, voting, elections, parliament, electoral colleges, primaries, it was all nonsense, it didn’t make any sense to him, leave it to humans to make everything more complicated than it needs to be. Everything was better when the world adhered to monarchies and systems, everyone had a place and duty, where everyone stuck to it and didn’t question things, like the good old days and none of this ……democracy?

“ Why?”

“ Huh.” his attention snapped back to reality or to woman before him. She went silent, her brows raised and her fingers tinkering with her locket that hung from her neck and rested at the valley of amble chest. He knew this look, she was thinking, trying to pick and choose her words, so he gave her, her space which was alright with him as it gave him extra time to just - look at her.

She was wearing a short, black dress, which modestly reached her knees, the prude

And had long sleeves. Her nails and lips were painted a bright crimson and her hair was left untouched as he rolled down towards her waist. After, what, he honestly, couldn’t remember, she stopped cutting her hair and just let it take a course of her own, he didn’t know about her, but to him it was the best decision she made. He liked how soft and curly it looked, how it framed her face, how it made her look mature, like the draculina she’s supposed to or more like is. However, despite this, her expression was sullen, her red lips were set in long frown, as she watched the drips of water slid down her glass.

“ Master, how long have we’ve known each other?”

“ Centuries. Why?” he was a bit taken back, out of all the ways he predicted this conversation, this wasn’t one of them.

“ Remember, back when I told you how I felt, I told you that I loved you and you rejected me.” it was more matter of fact than anything. She wasn’t upset, because she knew the answer beforehand. She knew he would reject her, and it hurt, but not as bad as it would have been if she entertained the fantasy of him being in love with her. She had feelings, but she was also no fool. But, no so many decades later-

“ Yet, after all this time, you love me, now. Why?”

She gazed back at him, her sapphire eyes filled with confusion.

He didn’t break contact, as he took another swig of his scotch, revealing in the feeling of the clear liquid burning his throat, giving him the confidence he needed to speak his mind, without hinges, without being vague about his emotions, but he was absolutely sure that by the time this conversation ends, he wasn’t going to be sober, as motioned for another drink, this time straight vodka.

“ People change, Seras.”

“ Meaning?”

“ Meaning, that I have long since stopped viewing you as just my loyal servant. You’re -you’re more to me than just that.”

“ More to you?” she should be ecstatic, yet caution was the only thing blaring through her thoughts. She new her master and knew him well, both the good and the bad, well more bad than good.

“ Seras, look, I know our relationship has been-”

“ Rocky.”

“ I was thinking tense, but I guess rocky works. But anyways, what I - what I’m trying to say is that I’m interested in courting you.”

Courting was such a odd word then again using the word dating, when referring to herself and Alucard was even stranger. Romantic interests or lovers sounds infinitely better - Wait? She wasn’t no - it’s just.

“ Seras?”

“ Huh-yes.”

“ Will you.”

“ Will I what?

“ Will you let me court you?”

“ Master, I-”

“ Vlad.”

“ What?

“ That’s my birth name. I want you to call me by it from now on.” he raised, a cautious hand, a bare hand, relieved of his gloves, to push a strand of golden hair behind her ear, gently brushing his knuckles against her cheek.

Seras bit her lip, what was she to say? What should she do? She felt the beer she drank want, desperately, to make an encore.

“ Vlad, I -I don’t know.” she whispers, peering down at her locket, again, twirling it between her slender fingers.

“ Why?” he had to stop himself from saying more, before he was starting sounding desperate.

“ What you said before about people changing.”

“ Yes, what about?”

“ Vlad, sometimes……sometimes….. people don’t change. Especially , people like you.”

“ What’s that supposed to me?” he should of taken offense to that, but the stinging pain of hurt was the only feeling that consuming him at the moment.

“ I know what you are. I’m not blind.

Please, don’t look at me like that, I’m not saying that to hurt you, trust me.

I love you, I really, really do. Sure I can deal with all your bizarre excenties, but that was only because our relationship was- well was master and servant, I could live with that then. But, now, now I don’t know if I can. Your impulsive, rude, I can never anticipated your moods sometimes, your fickle when you want to be ,not to mention cruel and bloodthirsty. How do I know you’re going to be committed, and not just one day get up and leave without so much as a single word. How do I know this isn’t all a game to you. How do I know that you truly want to love me and be my equal, if you keep shutting me out all the time or pushing me away when you don’t feel like being bothered. “ she paused moment, looking him dead in the eye to make sure she got the point.

“I can’t do this, I can’t be with you, if you’re going to act that way. I can’t.” she didn’t want to cry, she told herself, lectured herself not to cry, but the tears involuntary came forth, warm, as well as unwelcoming, burned a pathway down her face.

He was stunned silent for a while he didn’t know what to say, his mouth felt uncomfortably dry, like sand was just poured in his mouth, but try to wipe her tears away with his thumb.

“ Seras. Seras look at me.” he lowers his voice, to attract her attention. She wiped her nose and face with the back of her hand, sniffling as, she tried to gain the courage to look at him.

“ yeah.”

“ You speak the truth, people don’t change, especially people such as I, we never do nor ever will, but for your sake I’ll do anything you wish of me, I promise you that at least.

I know I’m more monster than man, and I can never be what you truly deserve, but I can do what I can, if you’d be mine.” he voice was, yet, more importantly sincere, more sincere than she could bare at the more and impulsive need to wrap her arms tightly around his neck and kiss him senseless was overpowering and that’s why she needed to leave. To leave, so she could think rationally and thoroughly.

“ Vlad. Vlad can you give me some time to think about?”

“ Of course, I’ll walk you home-”

“ No. That’s alright I want to walk by myself tonight, if you don’t mind.”

“Are you sure.”

She nods her head in affirmation, slowly sliding off her seat, to leave, however, another wave - call it a need or maybe want, but whatever it was made her lean over and press her lips to his. It was chaste and he certainly wasn’t expecting it, but he returned it with fervor, pulling her closer, and gently biting bottom lip, as she held onto his shirt for dear life. He wanted more, he wanted her, yearned for her taste and her touch, her scent alone, smelling of honey, drove him mad, but in the most delightful ways, he wanted to continue, but was suddenly interrupted, by loud grunt. Seras immediately pulled away from him, her cheeks flushed, and bottom lip swollen and her hair in slight disarray, she looked absolutely tempting - but the dirty look Igor gave him kept him doing anything further.

“Sorry, about that.” Seras smiles apologetically to the old bartender. He only tips his head in acknowledgement, quickly turning back to washing glasses.

She glances back him a shy expression kisses her lips “ Good night, Vlad.”

“ Good night, Seras.”

“ Alright, see you later.” she waves, as she particularly skips out the front door, the bell up top signaling her departure. He sighs as leans back, having zero intention of leaving anytime soon.

He jiggles his empty cup devoid of anything, but halfway melted ice.

“ Do you have anything stronger than Vodka?”

“ Why do you want to know.”

“ Because I’m going to need it.”

“ Haven’t you drunk enough.”

“ Not until I put myself into a coma that’ll hopefully last until the morning.”

“ I have a bottle of Everclear in the back.”

“ How much?”

“ 95%.”

“ Excellent.”

To be continued

A/N: can you believe I wrote this in one whole day. But anyways, this fic has been something I've been meaning to write for awhile and here it is, not too mention I wrote this with a terrible stomach ache, ugh, my belly is killing me, I just want the pain to end, but anyways thanks for reading and comments most appreciated

Next Chapter http://mrskohakusatowrites.tumblr.com/post/161487962808/vested-interest-chapter-1-mrskohakusato

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