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wouldntyou-liketoknow · 2 years

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What’s That Saying About Cinnamon Rolls. . ?

(Disclaimer: only two of the characters in this story belong to me. I’ve recently made a sister for my dear cannibal boi, and this is my first story involving her, so go here for context. If you’ve read my stuff, then you’ve probably gotten to know the aforementioned cannibal boi by now, but just in case, go here to learn more about him. And if you’d like to learn more about the mob that these two work for, go here. )

(Much appreciation to @sammys-magical-au for not only allowing me to have their very own Louise Editor—go here and here for more information about her—make a cameo, but also for helping me come up with a name for the mob that I plan to grow and write much, much more about in the future!)

(Also, just to clarify: I don’t really have a timeline set up, but this story takes place before my other stories involving Caliban.)

(Trigger Warnings: murder/death, poisoning/descriptions of toxic chemicals, blood, descriptions of illegal business, implied animal abuse, descriptions of eating, slight mentions of cravings/hunger pangs, implied cannibalism, mentions of past abuse, strong language. Please let me know if I missed anything.)

The chatter of patrons and the miscellaneous clinks of silverware greeted Azalea like old friends as she pushed the kitchen’s aluminum door open. She maneuvered around tables, nodding to the waitstaff as she passed by. The customers paid her no mind; after all, she was just another employee going about the daily grind, wasn’t she?

Aftertaste was by no means a cramped establishment. Despite this, it wasn’t at all uncommon for the restaurant to get very crowded, considering how good the food was. Fortunately, the building had come equipped with two staircases.

Azalea soon found herself ascending the first, which was located in the main dining room. (The second one was in the kitchen, leading down to one of many old subway office-platforms, hidden behind a false wall that only she and a select few other staff members knew about.)

The second floor boasted a smaller-scale room (which, admittedly, hadn’t been used at all before the building fell into The Boss’ possession). Shortly after she’d been put in charge of this restaurant, Azalea had tidied up the second floor and included it in advertisements; since it was sequestered from Aftertaste’s typical hustle and bustle, it could be reserved for private parties and the like.

On certain occasions, it could also be used for more. . .important matters.

At the top of the stairs, a door was waiting patiently for her. Azalea gave a foreshadowing knock, then slipped across the threshold and closed the door as quickly as she’d opened it.

A lone figure sat at a table in the corner; a bit of a local superstar, to be more precise, with a head of perfectly-gelled black hair and eyeliner sharp enough to rival some of the knives in the kitchen. Azalea had seen this person’s photograph on posters around the city, advertising drag races at the clubs downtown and queen storytimes at the bookstores uptown. She gazed at Azalea with wide, dark eyes, clearly startled by her sudden entrance.

“Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Azalea offered a small wave as she approached the table. “Have you been enjoying your order?”

The drag queen shook off her surprise with impressive speed.

“Yes, thank you,” she murmured, revealing a thick Portuguese accent. The wine she’d requested earlier swirled as she gently shifted the glass in her hand. Less than half of a serving of tiramisu remained on the plate in front of her. “I think I’ll need your catering for one of my events sometime.”

“You’re too kind,” Azalea replied. Slyness crept into her calm smile as she took a seat on the opposite end of the queen’s table. “But I was told you have some different business to discuss. So, for now, let’s focus on that.”

Azalea couldn’t be sure what this queen had heard or where she’d heard it. However, that didn’t matter quite yet. What mattered was that, according to one of her in-the-know employees, she’d carefully used some distinct wording when she’d made the call to reserve the entire second floor, when she’d asked to speak with Azalea in private.

She obviously wasn’t just another customer.

She was a potential client.

The queen stared at Azalea for a long, tense moment. The anxiety in her eyes was clear as crystal, but that didn’t take away from just how determined her expression was. She sighed and nodded, fishing through the purse that was hanging on her chair to produce a small folder. She then reached across the table, offering it to Azalea.

“I’ve tried less extreme options, but nothing has worked. Nobody is willing to take this issue seriously,” she declared as her host opened the folder, uncovering several photographs that came in varying degrees of quality. “Name your price, and I’ll pay it. . .”

___

Azalea parked her car near the entrance of the cul-de-sac, right around the street corner. Not too far from her destination, but not too close, either. True, there were only a couple other houses near the one she needed to enter (this was one of those oddly spacious neighborhoods), but she wasn’t about to test just how nosey her target’s neighbors were. She moved quickly and quietly as she approached one of the larger houses, holding a small black box close to her chest.

There was no such thing as a perfect place. Every city, no matter the population or location, had its issues. The severity of those issues depended on who you asked. When it came to the Cove Port Inlets, basic criminal activity wasn’t too prevalent. But then, that was just on the surface level (figuratively and literally).

Despite its underground reputation, The Pentas Family was well-camouflaged among the more legal aspects of the Inlets. Rumors did trickle through, of course, but they were easy to manage. In fact, sometimes rumors were even welcomed: not only could they alert the mob’s representatives to potential threats, but they could occasionally pave the way for those representatives to take on a job.

As she grew closer, Azalea noticed how blinds had been twisted shut on the other side of the front windows. There was no light peeking through the aforementioned blinds. To the average person, this would’ve been a sign that the house was empty. Azalea, however, was undeterred. She knew someone was home, and she knew that they were expecting a visitor.

She climbed up a small set of concrete stairs, coming to a halt at the front door. She knocked three times, then took a step back and waited, drumming her nails on top of her cargo. A couple moments dragged by before the door creaked open, revealing her latest target on the other side.

“Good timing. I was starting to think your boss was just giving me the runaround,” he said, leaning against the doorframe.

Azalea had known who this man was before her current client had hired her. Hell, she (and her associates) probably knew more about him than most of the people he was actually familiar with. But she didn’t bother thinking of his name.

Like the majority of people, he was much taller than Azalea (who, even with heels on, was quite petite). And like so many before him, he immediately made a show of looking down at her.

In the back of her mind, Azalea added this to the pile of mistakes the target had already made.

“We don’t do things halfway around here,” Azalea answered. Though she smiled politely, the look in her eyes made it clear that she was neither intimidated nor amused. “And I know we weren’t giving off the wrong vibes when you first came to see us.”

Calling hit-jobs complex would be an understatement. Although word spread fast along the illicit grapevine, clients could still have some level of control over what information contract killers had on their targets. Disturbingly high salaries (and disregard for morals) aside, one could not simply kill another person without knowing anything about them. If someone was willing to pay for a death, there always had to be a reason or two for it. . .

The target hummed at this, ever-so-slightly furrowing his brow. “Well, your boss didn’t give off the vibe of someone who’d have some half-pint running her deals for her.”

. . .Not that that was a problem right now. There were more than enough reasons for Azalea to complete tonight’s job.

“First of all, I was in the same room as you during your meeting with The Boss; unless it’s for something very personal, she always includes us in decision-making. I can get why you might not have noticed me, but it’s still not my fault if you aren’t as observative as you think you are,” Azalea retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Second of all, we rotate between these kinds of assignments, because that’s how things actually get accomplished. And third of all: who the hell are you calling a half-pint? I’ve been in the business probably five times longer than you have.”

“Well, if part of your ‘assignment’ is to convince me of something, then you aren’t doing a very bang-up job,” the target sneered.

Azalea barked a laugh. “You think I’m the one who needs to be convincing here? You seemed pretty damn desperate during your first elevator pitch with us.”

The target responded to this by leaning forward and glowering in a very unpleasant way. He was dangerously close to getting in Azalea’s face, but she defied yet another one of his expectations by not flinching at all.

“Look,” Azalea said pointedly, signaling just how thin her patience was wearing. “The Boss sent me because she’s thinking of giving this another chance. But if you’d rather just throw that chance away. . .”

The uncomfortable starting contest continued for a few more seconds. Azalea immediately noticed a spark of panic mixing into the target’s anger. He knew he was about to screw himself out of something he wanted a second time. He knew she was right, that she had the upper-hand here, and he was furious about it.

(And knowing that really helped to calm Azalea’s frustration.)

Eventually, the target moved to the side, closing the door behind Azalea as she strolled in. He then quietly led her through the house, and while she followed along, she subtly scanned this new environment. A few lights were on in the nearby rooms, so her eyes adjusted quickly.

This place offered several indicators that the target was rather well-off; plenty of furniture, various expensive-looking knicknacks strewn about, and the size of the house in general. However, none of that changed the fact that this place was also kind of a pigsty.

Stains dotted the carpet here and there (some were at least semi-cleaned, while others had simply been hidden in a way that just made them more obvious). There were also strange indents along the edges of the walls (a few of which were clearly scratch marks that obviously hadn’t been produced by a human).

Soon, the two of them came upon what Azalea assumed was the dining room table. The target took a seat at the end, motioning for Azalea to follow suit. Once she settled down on one of the chairs, she placed the black box on the tabletop and pushed it closer to the target. Getting the message, the target reached out and lifted the lid to reveal a small assembly of cinnamon rolls.

His features were etched with a look of surprise. He glanced at Azalea curiously. “. . .What’s this supposed to be?”

“A peace-offering,” Azalea announced, lying straight through her teeth. “We might’ve gotten off on the wrong foot, but that shouldn’t have to affect business.”

The target’s eyes grew wider, tension quickly draining away to be replaced with more ignorant assumptions. “That’s awfully kind of you.” With that, he fished one of the cinnamon rolls out of the box and took a bite.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Azalea had to stifle a laugh as she watched the target make two more mistakes. She leaned back in the chair, a timer starting in her head, careful to keep her expression neutral.

“So,” the target pronounced, his voice semi-muffled by the treat. “You guys are finally opening negotiations?”

“We might be.” Azalea shrugged. “Might. There’s been a lot of stuff on our plate lately, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“I get that,” the target chuckled. “Sometimes you’ve just gotta be picky, right?”

“Right.” Azalea nodded, smirking at the irony.

The Pentas Family wasn’t the only mob the Inlets had to offer (though it often seemed to be the only mob whose members actually knew what they were doing). There were a couple embarrassing street gangs here and there, but they never lasted very long. A few lone thugs wandered into the area, but they tended to have a bad habit of vanishing without a trace.

It was rare for another actual crime family to try and compete.

Rare, but not impossible.

“This is delicious, by the way,” the target admitted, having gone through more than half of the cinnamon roll in his hand. “Did you make these?”

“Yeah, I did. They were fresh out of the oven before I made my way over here, ” Azalea beamed. “When The Boss organized her turf, she ended up assigning me to Aftertaste. So, I had to act accordingly.”

(For the record, she knew the target was only being more polite because of the deal he thought was at stake. But she also knew that she was one of the best chefs in town, and there was no shame in taking praise for that.)

“Well, I hope you know that baked goods won’t be the most sufficient payment.” Surprise soon left the target’s expression. After he swallowed the last bite of the cinnamon roll, his smile became condescending once again. “If your family actually gets around to starting this partnership, that is.”

“You and your guys weren’t exactly invited to this area,” Azalea deadpanned. “You can’t blame us for not accepting your offers right off the bat.”

The target rolled his eyes. “Rumor has it that your crew has already entered an alliance with someone else. So we figured asking you to work with us would be doing you a favor on top of that.”

Azalea folded her arms across her chest. “Whether or not we’ve already got allies isn’t the point. The point is that our business doesn’t correlate with yours, and if that’s not enough of a hint, then nothing is. The only reason The Boss is considering changing her mind is because she’s a lot more mature than most people with power.”

“Since when does correlation matter?” The target pressed. “There’s strength in numbers, and our respective trades are both lucrative as all hell. Shouldn’t that be what matters here?”

Azalea raised her eyebrows at him. The target was acting just as entitled as he had been during that last-minute meeting a few weeks ago. Azalea had been sure that The Boss would’ve just assigned her or Murdock or one of The Pentas Family’s other representatives to bump him off. The fact that Azalea’s client had come complaining about the target’s business practices so soon afterwards was just a lucky coincidence.

“You’ve said so before,” Azalea eventually sighed. “That your little hustle is worth all the risks it comes with. You’ve said it, but you haven’t really done much to prove it.”

She reminded herself that the timer was still ticking. She’d only have to deal with this guy for five more minutes or so. She just had to keep an eye out for the signs.

“You think I’d be so insistent on negotiating if I didn’t have the goods to show for it?” The target scoffed, clearly frustrated at how Azalea had called him out so blatantly. He was probably trying to convince himself that, somehow, she still didn’t actually know what she was talking about. “I’m not like the dumbass wannabes you’re used to. I’ve got more than enough proof of what my deal could do for your posse.”

Azalea leaned forward, tilting her head to the side in a challenging manner. “Then let’s see that proof.”

The target pursed his lips before nodding. He rose from his seat, breaking eye-contact so quickly that it was obviously on purpose. Azalea got up, once again trailing him as he retreated further into the house.

He led her down one hallway to a door that boasted a comical number of locks. After the target disengaged said locks, he pulled the door open to unveil a staircase, which he and Azalea quietly descended (Azalea made sure to stay behind him).

It took no time at all for the stench to punch Azalea in the face. She didn’t stop moving forward. At least, not until she and the target reached the foot of the stairs.

There was no carpeting to cover the concrete floor, and many of the walls were bare and without insulation. Despite being so unfinished, the target’s basement was roomy. Almost as roomy as The Pentas Family’s dens in the abandoned subway tunnels. And the target had definitely taken advantage of that space.

Several cages were scattered about, coming in a variety of sizes, materials. . .and contents. Many of the creatures being contained obviously hadn’t been born in the States. The noise they made wasn’t so cacophonous as it was depressing.They shuffled behind bars, cowering back, attempting to cover their eyes. They were all obviously cramped and in pain.

“Well?” The target asked smugly. “How’s all this for proof?”

“It’s. . .more than I expected,” Azalea answered honestly. She took a few subtle deep breaths, feeling her fingernails dig into her palms.

Among the many types of illegal business, exotic animal trafficking had never been very respected. Oh sure, you could make a fortune off of selling something that should either be out in the wild or in a zoo, but it was never as simple as that. It caused too many problems for the payoff to really be worth it. Especially since the clientele for that particular trade was frequently composed of rich assholes who wouldn’t know responsibility if it jumped up and went for their jugulars.

Azalea glanced at the target. Her anger cooled down a bit as she noticed beads of sweat collecting on his brow at a suspiciously fast rate.

“How exactly is this going to work?” Azalea inquired, gesturing towards the cages. She didn’t need (or want) to know, but now that the target was officially where she wanted him, she had to keep him distracted.

“That depends on my clients, really.” The target shrugged. The movement seemed casual, but Azalea could instantly tell that he was a bit shakier than he had been before. “Most of ‘em typically want a pelt, though I have gotten orders for complete taxidermy before. And that’s not even mentioning the crackpots who think blood or feathers or bone marrow or what-the-fuck-ever can cure diseases.”

“Oh, really? I always thought some people just wanted a special pet to brag about.”

“No, I do occasionally sell live specimens,” the target explained. He paused to clear his throat before continuing. “But it’s uncommon for most animals to actually make it this far. I guess some of the ones in this batch are just tougher than what I’m used to.”

His lip curled into a cruel smile, though it was wavering. His eyes glistened, suddenly looking very puffy and red around the edges. Confusion briefly crossed his features, along with anxiety that he attempted to hide.

Azalea blinked innocently, acting as though she hadn’t been carefully watching the target up until now. “Is everything alright? It looks like something’s bothering you.”

“Ah, no. I-I’m fine,” the target stammered, raising a hand to knead at his forehead. “Business just. . .takes a lot out of you, right?”

Azalea hummed, nodding in a way that was understanding but not at all sympathetic. “Well, I appreciate you taking the time for this little visit. But I still don’t think we’ll be able to open negotiations.”

The target did a neck-snapping double-take. “W-what?”

“You heard me. I’m not convinced that my family should start working with you. And if The Boss were here, I doubt she’d be convinced, either.”

“Why?” The target’s voice was louder than he’d probably wanted it to be. Azalea wasn’t sure if that’d been caused by his arrogant temper or the side-effects. “I’ve already told your boss about the prices that can be expected! You literally just asked to see what I had in store! How the fuck can you not see the benefits here?”

“Like I said before: our businesses aren’t compatible,” Azalea replied tersely. “We made that very clear the first time you tried making a deal. But apparently you thought screwing around in The Boss’ territory would somehow sway her opinion.”

The target sputtered at this, grinding his teeth as his face contorted into a furious scowl. He made to say something else—well, he was probably just going to start spewing insults—but Azalea cut him off via shaking her head.

“See, that’s another reason why my family doesn’t want anything from your group. You just can’t be professional.” Azalea paused, glancing at the cages again. “Besides, you guys only specialize in your trade, and the performance is sloppy at best. My family is all about variety; no two of us carry out business the same way.”

The target blinked, then barked a mirthless, disbelieving laugh. “Your boss just took ‘expect the unexpected’ and ran with it? Is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!” Azalea grinned. The target must’ve gotten so worked up that he didn’t even realize how hoarse his voice had gotten, how close he was to slurring his words. “I really don’t understand why so many people don’t have faith in that kind of work. I mean, you didn’t hesitate to eat from that little box I brought. . .”

The target froze in place. His eyes bulged from their sockets, his mouth gaped open like a suffocating fish.

Then, as if on cue, he doubled over, clearly not having expected whatever pain he was now feeling. His breathing became ragged, his body as a whole shuddered in an odd way. He let out a strangled gasp; when he tried to straighten his posture, he went sprawling to the floor, his hands not instinctively flying out to break his fall like they should have.

The convulsions grew steadily stronger. The target’s efforts to regain his balance were obvious, but it seemed like some invisible force was pinning him down.

“No one would ever expect batrachotoxin to have a sweet flavor,” Azalea pronounced. “I mean, I certainly didn’t at first, but research proves otherwise.”

She took a few steps closer, now looming over the man who’d towered over her just a moment ago. The target was coughing and choking now, blood-tinged mucus leaking out of his mouth. The veins in his neck were now distended in an awful way, more or less threatening to literally pop out of his skin.

“What was that you said earlier?” She asked. “Something about being a dumbass wannabe?”

Her tone wasn’t low or dangerous. Rather, it remained as chipper and casual as it had been for most of this interaction. And that automatically made her more terrifying than she’d been given credit for.

As he was no longer capable of speaking coherently, the target could do nothing but gawk in total horror. For good measure, Azalea didn’t stop staring down at him until his watery eyes eventually rolled back into his head. He still had yet to go completely limp—some of his joints kept twitching—but there was no saving him now.

Azalea lightly shook her head, fished her cellphone out of her pocket. She tapped at the screen, making sure for probably the thousandth time now that her conversations, whether by text or call, were shielded. The Boss had pulled a helluva lot of strings to ensure that those working for her wouldn’t have to worry about being recorded, but it never hurt to double-check.

Once she was satisfied, Azalea dialed a certain number, then held the device to her ear.

The phone had barely started ringing when someone on the other end picked up, though there was silence for a good five seconds or so.

“. . .Is it done?” Inquired a familiar voice.

“Sure is,” Azalea stated, figuring her client had just been bracing herself. She couldn’t really blame said client for needing to do so, considering what she was calling about.

“Good.” The client sighed. Surprisingly enough, her apparent nervousness didn’t seem to overshadow the relief in her tone. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting it to happen so quickly.”

Azalea chuckled. “We try our best to be efficient.”

“Are there any animals in the house?”

“Yes, quite a few. I had to bide my time to make sure the poison properly took effect. So, I goaded him into showing me where he’s been keeping them,” Azalea explained. “Why do you ask?”

“You said that some of your colleagues would come by once the job was done. Would they be adverse to. . .picking up those animals?”

“Well, that depends: what exactly do you expect the cleanup crew to do with them?” Azalea asked, both curious and suspicious.

“I was hoping they could be taken to Wild Things Rescue. I have connections to that place.” The client explained, meaning the endangered species sanctuary on the northside of town. Then, probably having remembered how she’d been sworn to secrecy, she hurriedly added, “A-and I can make sure that the employees won’t find out about my deal with you! All I’m asking is for the animals to be dropped off at the shelter; I’ll take care of the rest from there. I’m willing to pay more if I need to.”

“Whoa, slow down,” Azalea announced. “I don’t think an extra charge will be necessary.”

“You won’t have—wait, what?” The client had obviously been caught off guard. “Are—are you serious. . ?”

“I am.” Azalea paced around the dead man on the floor. “This guy already had a price on his head; your patronage just sweetened that deal. Besides, you didn’t skimp on the original fee. So, I might as well help you out one more time.” She looked over the caged creatures and felt her face drop. There were a couple panda cubs, a few wolf pups, a pangolin, and even a tiny white tiger. And that was just what the cages immediately in front of her had to offer. “Just because your heart’s in the right place.”

“Oh.” The client stayed quiet for a long moment.

Though Azalea didn’t have a problem with the client’s confused relief, she was still on the clock. Plus, awkward silences weren’t really her thing. “Cleanup’s already on their way, but I’ll bring ‘em up to speed once they’re here. They know this city inside-out, so they won’t have trouble getting to the sanctuary. Can you meet them there?”

The client cleared her throat. “Yes. Yes, I absolutely can.”

“Perfect. It’ll take them some time to erase everything here. You should be able to expect them within an hour or so.”

“I’ll be ready,” the client promised. And, despite being able to tell so much just from her voice, Azalea still couldn’t imagine the look in the client’s eyes when she said, “. . .Thank you. For everything.”

With that, a loud click sounded on the other end before the call went completely silent.

After Azalea returned her phone to her pocket, her eyes landed on a cage at the end of the row. Unlike all the others, it was empty, and its wire door hung open. Azalea took a closer look and quickly realized that the latch on the cage’s door was somewhat bent, as well as covered in scratches and grooves.

Something must have gnawed on that latch until it finally gave way. . .

Out of nowhere, the silence was broken by a series of shuffling noises. Automatically tense, Azalea gazed around the basement. She carefully reached into one of the pockets in her vest, wrapping her hand around a small syringe.

(An emergency dose of bullet ant venom. It was one of the very few things in her collection that wasn’t actually lethal, but having it in your system was agonizing enough to make you wish it was.)

She soon discovered a large hole in the wall to her left: an empty, unfinished door frame. Azalea chewed her lip, then maneuvered herself around the cages. The shuffling grew louder and louder as she came to hover in the frame.

This sideroom wasn’t much better than the rest of the basement. A desk had been positioned there, supporting a laptop and cluttered stacks of paper and folders. Beside it stood a tripod, complete with a large camera that was aimed at a white sheet on the floor. (This must have been how the target advertised the animals he trafficked. Once you had some quality photos of your wares, all you had to do was post them somewhere online and start taking bids.)

Across the room from this setup, a refrigerator stood in the corner. Its door hung ever-so-slightly ajar, allowing a strip of bright, artificial light to peek out. The sounds of something scratching against plastic echoed from within.

Azalea paused, chewing her lip. Now sure that she wouldn’t have to deal with one of the target’s cronies, she released her hold on the syringe

She inched towards the fridge, moving slowly and quietly. She didn’t plan on opening it all the way—her instincts just demanded that she get a look at whatever was inside.

Once the device was within touching distance, Azalea leaned down, craning her neck to peer through the crack in the door. She soon came to the conclusion that maybe her instincts should’ve just screwed off this one time.

A pale blur erupted out of the fridge, accompanied by a loud, gravelly hiss. Azalea let out a small scream and staggered back, nearly losing her balance. While catching her breath, she watched the creature dart away from her, soon backing into the opposite corner, still hissing as it thumped one of its hind legs against the floor.

Now that it was standing still, Azalea could see this thing for what it was: a hare (admittedly, she’d thought it was a rabbit at first, but then she remembered the differences between them).

Its fur was white. Azalea immediately thought it had to be one of those arctic species, but as she continued examining it, she realized that wasn’t the case. The tips of the hare’s long ears lacked black spots. Azalea’s mind went to albinism, but that couldn’t be right either. The hare’s eyes weren’t pink—their hue looked like a combination of hazel and gold. Like deep, dark amber.

Azalea knew there was another mutation that made animals white when they probably weren’t meant to be, but she couldn’t start racking her brain for the exact term.

Because by now, she’d finally noticed how the fur around the hare’s mouth and forepaws was stained red.

She glanced back at the fridge. Now that the door was wide open, she had a perfect view of all the packages lining the shelves. They each contained varying cuts of raw meat; probably what the target had been using to feed those animals. One of them was laying on the floor—it must have fallen out when Azalea startled the hare. The plastic wrap had clearly been torn open by small teeth, leaving the ground beef inside partially uncovered.

“I didn’t know you guys could eat meat,” Azalea said as she put two and two together. She had no idea why she’d just decided to start talking to the hare. It wasn’t like it could answer her. “. . .Are you hungry?”

And what kind of question was that? Of course the hare was hungry. Why else would it have climbed into a refrigerator to eat some raw meat?

Azalea lightly shook her head, attempting to calm those nagging questions. She worked for a mob full of contract-killers. This was pretty normal compared to some of the stuff she’d done before.

She stooped down to pick up the package. She saw how the hare’s eyes followed the ground beef, wide and hopeful. But as she took a step forward, its ears flattened as it let out a strange, high-pitched growl.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Azalea called softly. She held out her free hand in a calm gesture. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” After that, she plucked a piece of meat from the package and lightly tossed it forward. It landed in front of the hare, who hesitated before wolfing it down.

The hare immediately went back to staring and hissing at Azalea, but that didn’t deter her. She kept sending little bits of ground beef the hare’s way, slowly moving towards it all the while.

Sooner or later, she slowly lowered herself into a sitting position beside the hare. She took yet another chunk of ground beef into the palm of her hand, and then rested that hand on the floor.

The hare warily looked back and forth between her and the offering. Eventually, it claimed the treat—its little teeth nicked the skin of Azalea’s palm, but she stayed still. The hare probably hadn’t meant to bite her; now that she was so much closer to it, Azalea could see just how badly it was shaking.

It wouldn’t have taken a genius to guess that a person who trafficked animals wouldn’t care enough about said animals to treat them properly, but watching the hare shiver and hesitate. . .

It wasn’t just malnourished. It was afraid.

It hadn’t just been underfed. It had been abused.

And just like that, Azalea finally realized why this seemingly random animal had struck such a chord with her. Oh sure, she’d always been an animal-lover, but the hare specifically reminded her of someone.

Someone who she’d grown up with.

Someone who, like her, had been the subject of cruelty for the majority of his childhood.

Someone whose developing appetite had made the neglect he’d experienced so much worse.

Someone she’d smuggled food to whenever she’d gotten the chance. . .

Azalea felt her eyes start to burn. She swallowed a lump in her throat, blinking back tears as she quietly set the package down in front of the hare. This time, the hare didn’t hold back. It attacked the ground beef with newfound vigor, its little teeth audibly snapping.

Despite the painful memories now circulating through her head, Azalea chortled at the sight. “You’re kind of like a little snare-trap, huh?”

Another couple minutes dragged by before Azalea raised a hand and cautiously pushed it toward the hare.

The hare froze mid-bite, jerking its head to stare up at her, its amber eyes still full of stress. Azalea kept her movement even as her fingertips brushed the hare’s soft, white fur.

The hare flinched, but it didn’t try to run off like she’d expected.

Azalea repeated that action, slowly but surely stroking the hare’s back. Sooner or later, the hare went back to eating. It didn’t resist the petting, didn’t hiss, didn’t try to bite Azalea.

Time just seemed to slow down as Azalea sat there, watching the hare, hoping that comforting it would make the horrible ache in her heart go away.

She was so busy calming herself down that she almost didn’t notice how the hare had suddenly abandoned its meal in favor of sidling up to her, leaning into her touch.

It reared back on its hind legs and braced its paws against her shoulder, then proceeded to push its muzzle against her neck. It wasn’t shaking anymore.

With her eyebrows now on a collision course for Mars, Azalea gently gathered the hare up in her arms, being as delicate as humanly possible. The hare didn’t resist this, and she felt a delighted smile materialize on her face.

She knew she couldn’t keep the hare. It wasn’t like The Boss prohibited her associates from having pets, but Azalea already owned Cuddles. She simply didn’t have enough time or space for another animal.

And in spite of that, Azalea had already made up her mind. It didn’t matter how accidental this encounter was. It didn’t matter how ridiculous it was for her to adopt an animal that just so happened to be in the place where she’d killed a person no more than ten minutes ago.

“I think I might have a friend for you,” Azalea told the hare, her smile growing wider.

The hare, of course, didn’t respond. But the way it tilted its head at Azalea’s words was encouraging enough.

___

Azalea may have loved decorating as much as the next gal, but after she’d cleaned all the old junk out of her secret underground den, she just hadn’t really felt the need to embellish it beyond the necessities.

To the right of the concrete passageway, a huge storage cabinet took up space against the wall. Similarly to one or two of the cupboards in Aftertaste’s kitchen, it was full to bursting with bottles and jars that came in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors.

The only difference was that the stuff in these containers couldn’t be used in cooking unless Azalea planned to kill someone. (Which, to be fair, was a scenario she found herself in quite regularly.) A few boxes could be found at the bottom of the cabinet; they stored things like syringes and transportation vials.

Right next to the poison cabinet was a mahogany bookcase. Its shelves were inhabited by various chronicles about cooking, baking, hazardous chemicals and how they affected the human body, stuff like that.

She’d also brought a couple tables down here. One was in the corner, currently supporting Cuddles’ terrarium and heat-lamp. The other was in the center of the room (along with a couple chairs), a base for harvesting, or experimenting, or whatever Azalea found herself needing to do when it came to working with poisons.

Right now that table would’ve been completely vacant, if not for the hare, who was currently trying to pace around on it in order to get a better view of this new environment.

“Hey, c’mon. Can’t you hold still for a few more seconds?” Azalea asked, gently keeping the hare in place.

She’d taken one of the hand towels from the restaurant’s kitchen and soaked it in warm water. She was now using it to carefully scrub at the hare’s fur, cleaning off the blood that had been caked around his mouth and paws. For the most part, the red stains had disappeared. There were just a few more specks left, but the hare apparently thought he’d stayed in one spot long enough.

Cuddles, who was loosely coiled around Azalea’s neck, ever-so-slightly leaned toward the hare, angling her head curiously. Her forked tongue flicked in and out of her mouth like a party favor. The hare returned Cuddles’ gaze, his twitching nose somehow adding to the strangely thoughtful look in his eyes.

Azalea knew it usually wasn’t the best idea to have a snake in the same room with a small mammal. However, that didn’t change the fact that scarlet kingsnakes only grew big enough to be a danger to things like mice. Besides, Cuddles wasn’t nearly as aggressive as most people with ophidiophobia would probably suggest

“You must be pretty excited, huh?” Azalea asked the hare. “I don’t blame you—just wait until you see your actual new home.”

Make sure you have a Plan B, chided a voice in Azalea’s head. There’s still a chance that this won’t work out the way you’re hoping.

Azalea had to bite back a sigh at the thought. Logically speaking, she knew she couldn’t really expect Caliban to just randomly take a new pet home tonight. Especially since she hadn’t mentioned a potential new pet in the text she’d sent him ten minutes ago.

She knew he was on his way here, and that made her simultaneously eager and anxious.

Even so, she still had a good feeling about her plan. She knew her brother better than anyone on planet Earth; hell, he’d said that himself on more than one occasion.

Almost immediately after Azalea had finally restored the hare’s fur to its pure white hue, the door across the room lightly shook as knuckles rapped against it on the other side.

“Speak of the devil,” she murmured, rising from her chair.

Just to be sure, Azalea took a quick peek through the window at the platform outside. After that, she stood before the door, her hand on the knob. “Who is it?”

“It’s the pizza guy,” replied a voice that was as familiar as it was muffled, both lighthearted and sarcastic. “Who do you think it is?”

Azalea pulled the door less than halfway open, poking her head through the crack. There her brother was, amusedly smiling down at her. The dim, flickering light of the abandoned platform shone against his red leather jacket.

“What’re you doing out so late?” Azalea greeted, smiling right back. “You know there’s crazy people down here, right?”

Caliban’s eyes grew wide as he put a hand on his heart in an elaborate mock gasp. “You’ve seen them, too? Don’t you realize how much danger you’re in?!”

The siblings burst out laughing like only self-aware lunatics who’d made their way in a life where murder was casual business could.

“Anyway, what was with that message?” Caliban asked. “You’re only vague like that when you’re up to something.”

“Exactly.” Azalea hummed. “Would you prefer me telling you or showing you?”

“I mean, both would probably work.” Caliban moved forward, obviously expecting his sister to step aside. When she didn’t, he gave pause. “. . .Can I come in?”

“You can,” Azalea replied, “but you’ve gotta close your eyes first.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t want to spoil the surprise.” Azalea quickly glanced over her shoulder, making sure the hare was still on the table, then returned her focus to Caliban before he could try peeking inside.

Caliban blinked at this, raising an eyebrow. Azalea knew he trusted her, but she was just now remembering how his (and, admittedly, her) concept of surprises had become a bit warped over the recent years.

“Does this have anything to do with that job you were talking about yesterday?” Caliban inquired.

“. . .Kind of,” Azalea admitted before hurriedly clarifying, “Nothing went wrong! The target’s dead, I didn’t get hurt or caught, don’t worry!”

The anxiety that had started forming on her brother’s face was replaced by subtle relief. He gave her one more puzzled look before he nodded.

“Alright, then. Lead the way,” he sighed, closing his eyes.

Azalea snickered, taking one of Caliban’s hands in hers to carefully guide him into her den. Once they were both inside, she lightly kicked the door shut and brought Caliban over to the table. She gently pushed down on his shoulder, having him sit on her chair.

The hare wandered right up to them, peering back and forth between the siblings.

“Can I open my eyes now?” Caliban asked, his tone caught between amusement and concern.

“Almost, almost,” Azalea assured. “Just wait a little longer. . .” She couldn’t help but giggle as she watched the hare crane his neck to push his little face closer to Caliban’s, nose twitching adorably.

Caliban could obviously sense that something had entered his bubble, because he immediately began leaning back in the chair. “If whatever this is makes me fall and crack my head open, I swear to God—”

“That’s not gonna happen,” Azalea interjected. “Open ‘em up.”

Caliban’s eyes snapped open, and he very nearly jumped in his seat. The hare flinched back a bit, but he didn’t start hissing. That was a good sign.

Caliban’s shock was quickly replaced by confusion. He looked at his sister, then back at the hare. “Look, I don’t have a problem with bunnies, but I’m not sure if I want to know how or why this one got here.”

“Well, first of all, he’s a hare, you uncultured swine,” Azalea snorted. “And second of all, I didn’t just pick him up off the street. I found him at the target’s place.”

“. . .Are you saying he played a part in how that job went down?” Caliban asked, starting to chortle at how odd that sounded.

“No, not really. He might’ve wanted to, judging by how scared and hungry he was.”

That made her brother’s laughter come to an abrupt halt. The bewilderment was still very much present in his expression, but his eyes made it clear that a chord had been struck.

He cautiously raised a hand, glancing back at Azalea.

“Is it okay if I. . ?”

“Yeah, go ahead!” Azalea beamed. “He really seems to like pets.”

Caliban nodded and held his palm towards the hare, who responded by taking a few seconds to check this new person’s scent. After that, he rubbed his little head against the offered hand, much like a cat.

Despite knowing the things her brother had done—and would likely continue doing for a long while—Azalea knew there was no denying how delightful it was to see his face light up. Slowly but surely, the hare shuffled closer to Caliban, clearly enjoying his attention.

“Not to be rude,” Caliban eventually pronounced, still petting the hare, “but you still haven’t really told me why you asked me to come over.”

“Right, right,” Azalea coughed. “Well, it’s kind of a long story. But for starters, when I saw this guy, I thought of you.” She reached over to scratch the hare’s ears. “He’s got some strange tastes—”

Caliban sputtered with humor, looking briefly shocked at being called out like that. “Tell me how you really feel.”

“—and he’s feisty when he needs to be. But he’s really nice once you get to know him.”

Her brother hummed at this. One part of his expression showed joking denial, but the other part was clearly touched by the sentiment.

“We both know how I can’t really feed you like the others,” Azalea continued, unable to stop herself from sounding a bit guilty.

Caliban caught onto that quickly, his eyes becoming slightly worried. “It’s not like I hold that against you. You know that, right? I mean, in all fairness, it’s better that you don’t give me any bodies. Because of the whole poison-is-your-trademark thing.”

Azalea softly laughed in agreement, but it didn’t do much to hide the fact that both she and Caliban were most definitely on the same train of thought right now.

Before they’d joined The Pentas Family, before they’d even become adults, she’d been the one to care for him when he needed it the most. She’d been there for him every time he couldn’t sleep or got sick due to malnourishment, every time the end of a day saw him bruised and shaking. . .

Just as he’d been there for her whenever she’d experienced similar abuse.

On one hand, they’d both tried so hard to repress those memories, which they had every damn right to do. On the other hand, however, they both knew that they couldn’t afford to forget how they’d managed to survive.

“Aside from that,” Azalea mentioned, her voice growing softer, “I can imagine how lonely it might get around your place when R.D. has to travel for her projects. And since I’m so busy most of the time, I can only do so much to help with that.”

Caliban slowly nodded, biting his lip.

“So, I thought that maybe Snare could help keep you company. That’s his name, by the way. Snare.”

A few long seconds passed before Caliban echoed, “Snare. Snare the hare.” He paused, then let out a quiet chuckle. “I like that.”

@sammys-magical-au @callmegkiddo @insane4fandoms @inkangeliguess @flamestar456 @forestcouncil @slasher-smash @themarpsimp @neons-trash-blog @ayoreneehere @sw33tst4rs @butterboyfly @i-dont-like-it-here-please-help @dleep-deprivation-idk-jelp

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indigoking · 2 years

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Specialist study research

Based in Barcelona, Heura Foods was founded in 2017 by Marc Coloma and Bernat Ananos. Their goal is to take animals out of meat production for good. Focusing on Mediterranean plant-based meat, they note how their product contains the same amount of protein as traditional chicken, with only one-third of the fat. In the build-up to Easter, Heura released a campaign suggesting that Italians should “eat (plant-based) meat this Good Friday”. With Catholics expected to abstain from eating meat, Heura took the opportunity to offer them an alternative so they wouldn’t miss out. This was promoted on the side of trams travelling through Milan. Heura is known for its eye-catching campaigns. In 2020, they put up a giant billboard in the centre of Madrid with the message “a meat burger pollutes more than your car.” The controversy forced the brand to take down the advert, but it’s clear they’re not afraid of bold statements to get people talking. I think this ad campaign is great as it’s very vibrant, striking and bold with a very shocking fact that is displayed in a simple way to make it as impactful as the statement is. It’s educational and a really good example of an effective yet simple ad campaign.

Meatless Farm was founded in 2016 by flexitarian Morten Toft Bech when he was keen to reduce his meat consumption but found there was a lack of tasty plant-based options available. Now, his products are stocked in leading UK supermarkets, and have supplied high street chains such as Pret and Leon. The attention-grabbing slogan was intended for some light-hearted fun and included signs that read “now that’s a M… F… burger” and “we love a big M… F… sausage.” It’s certainly something consumers would remember in their search for meat-free alternatives. I think this is a really fun ad campaign and out of the ordinary, it’s very eye catching as the letters in the slogan make it seem like it’s meant to say something else, so I think it’s fun and a good play on words.

This is a food waste ad campaign by Wrap to encourage people to remember to make a list of items only that they need before they go shopping, to prevent overbuying and then food wastage. I love the design of this poster, I think it’s very engaging and contains really important and shocking statistics like British people wasting 50% of the food that they buy, that’s really terrible and I think this design really gets that point across well with the image of the rotting lemon. The play on words is also really great and I think this is an extremely successful ad campaign.

Oddbox began as a seedling in a market in Portugal. The founders were browsing fresh, beautiful, sometimes funny-looking fruit & veg on offer. It struck them that they only ever saw identical, aesthetically pleasing produce in UK supermarkets. After this, the founders did some digging and learned that up to 40% of all produce in the UK is wasted before it leaves farms because it doesn’t look “right” or because too much was grown - despite being fresh, beautiful, and totally tasty. Oddbox is a subscription box that delivers fresh odd looking fruit and vegetables to your door so that less food goes to waste. I think this is an amazing sustainable business and a perfect example of a company helping to build a more sustainable future for food. This company helped me to think of more ideas for my project about sustainable food.

The Slow Food movement originated in Italy in 1989 as a response to the growth of fast food and other changes in the food system worldwide, of which Our World readers are well aware. After 25 years the movement now boasts millions of members from more than 1,500 ‘convivia’ (local chapters) in more than 150 countries. Members are typically chefs, farmers, fishers, activists, academics and producers — anybody with a passion for food.

Slow Food’s primary missions are to “prevent the disappearance of local food cultures and traditions, counteract the rise of fast food and fast life, combat people’s dwindling interest in the food they eat, where it comes from and how our food choices affect the world around us”. It is evidently a pretty broad quest, but well explained under the more general terminologies of “good, clean and fair”, defined here. This is a really interesting movement that I previously didn’t know about and I think it’s really good and useful. It got me thinking more about movements and ideas that can work to build a more sustainable future for food. Communities using fresh local food is really sustainable and healthy so I think that’s great for the people and also for the environment.

This was a French campaign that tackled food waste by celebrating the beauty of ugly fruits and vegetables, created by Marcel Worldwide. This campaign is so simple but it works really well, this was the first campaign I had seen celebrating ‘ugly’ fruit so it’s shocking to see at first but then makes you realise there is nothing wrong with the food just if it’s shaped differently and out of the ordinary. The art direction works beautifully and makes it look like the fruit is a star in a show and I think it’s a great example of a campaign showing off funny shaped fruit and vegetables.

This is a chart showing the impacts and affects of a community garden that I found in an article on Environmental Evidence titled ‘What are the health and well-being impacts of community gardening for adults and children: a mixed method systematic review protocol’. This website helped me to research more into community gardens as a whole, how they help communities and the positive affects of them. I was thinking of a community garden company being one of my possible ideas for my project so this article helped me with researching more deeply into the history of community gardens and why exactly they’re good. I found scientific evidence to support the idea that community gardens not only help with eating fresh local food but are also amazing for community members social lives, and reduces stress and improves physical health and has many more positive affects.

Another subscription box for selling out of the ordinary looking fruit and vegetables and helping to tackle food waste is ‘Wonkyveg’. Some farmers in the UK have up to 10 tonnes of produce rejected on a weekly basis, solely for the reason that this produce is “ugly.” This is a huge amount of fresh food being wasted which also wastes all the resources that went into growing it, which means a huge amount of water. This website taught me that the average person throws away 77 tomatoes a year and that that’s the equivalent of 10 baths tubs of water! This company is a really good example of tackling food waste and helping to build a more sustainable future for food and I really like how it’s been done. It helped me with thinking of big issues in the food industry and how they can be tackled. I like the design of the background of the website for Wonkyveg, I like the colour green used and think it’s very fitting and I also like the background drawings/doodles of the vegetables, I think it’s very fitting with their brand and is cute. I don’t really think the arrows pointing to the vegetables making out that they are saying these statements like ‘I carrot believe these waste statistics’ and ‘Real veg has curves, baby!’ works well as I find it quite out of place for this type of design but I understand what they were trying to do to promote their boxes.

Stop Food Waste day is the largest single day of action in the fight against food waste. It was started in 2017 by Compass Group USA and is now recognised globally in every corner of the world as we unite to educate and ignite change. This website teaches people to prevent, inspire and repurpose - prevent food waste, inspire others and repurpose food. The website has lots of tools like recipes from around the world, a cookbook and a toolkit on how to get involved and take the Stop Food Waste Day pledge. It’s very interactive, colourful and bold and is a really good and successful website and day of action. This made me think of other ways in which food issues could be tackled and how the public could be inspired to get involved and help out.

I read an article titled ‘ 16 Facts That Show How Going Vegan Helps Stop Climate Change ‘ on the Peta UK website. I researched more into a vegan diet as I know that eating meat is a really huge problem in climate change, and I wanted to learn more about this in hopes of it helping me come to a solution to help build a more sustainable future for food. I learnt so many interesting facts and statistics about how being vegan helps the environment from this website, for example raising animals for flesh, eggs and dairy causes 65% of all nitrous-oxide emissions and that nitrous oxide has 296 times the global-warming potential of carbon dioxide. I also learnt that animal agriculture is responsible for up to 91% of the destruction of the Amazon rainforest. These statistics really shocked me massively and taught me a lot about the environment, being vegan and how this stops climate change.

I read an article from this website, Atalian Servest, titled ‘Four benefits of using fresh, in season and local food’. I researched into the benefits of this as I realised I did not know that much about local food, what’s in season at which times and the positive affects this can have. I wanted to learn more about this to incorporate it into my project because I decided I wanted to do it on encouraging people to eat more fresh and local food. I learnt that it’s so much better for your health, the flavour will always be better and that it reduces your carbon footprint. There were a lot more benefits than I thought to eating fresh local food and it was very interesting and helpful to learn about.

I read a website page by Vegetarian Society titled ‘Seasonal UK grown produce’ which names different fruit and vegetables that are fresh and grown in each month of the year, this was really useful and helpful to me to learn what grows in UK throughout the months of the years as I needed to know to help me progress with my project. I thought there wouldn’t be that many options of fruit and vegetables that are just grown in the UK, I thought the choices would be really limited but there is always still a big variety no matter which month, and I think it’s important for everyone to know this so they can contribute to eating more fresh locally grown food and lowering their carbon footprint by eating less food which has been imported all around the world, frozen and preserved with unnatural chemicals. There are so many benefits to eating locally produced food and hopefully I am able to produce a clear and informative design that teaches people more about it.

This ‘Know your food’ campaign was created by Julia Mia Design for the Australian conservation foundation as a proposal for their biodiversity urban nature strategy. I love the bright bold colours used and I think this advert is very eye catching and makes me want to look into what the campaign is about. I think the design is very in your face, and that they all work together.

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heidiblack · 2 years

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Convention Artist Alley Review: Crunchyroll Expo

Convention: Crunchyroll Expo

Location: San Jose, CA

Date: August 5-7

Table cost: $323.75

Table size: 8’

Application: Juried

Fandom/audience: Anime

Items for sale: 11x17" posters (fanart and original), coloring book, zines (fanart and original), comics, pins (original), resin coasters and jewelry (including primogems), leather keychains (by my sister)

Mask policy: Required in all areas

Previously attended? Yes, in 2017.

Pros: Visiting friends in California, back in the bay area! Large, well-known property (crunchyroll) that spares little expense and makes an outright huge show, convention artist alley staff were very friendly and checked in with us regularly, smoothly run.

Cons: California so everything is expensive, tables were crammed together, audience seemed to be guys more interested in ahoge/hentai/waifu bs, allows proxy selling (including the person next to me who was selling stuff by someone else already in the alley) and no policing of work (they say they encourage original art, but someone near me had essentially traced logos on shirts they were selling), requires event insurance (only event I’ve ever done that does)

Most popular item(s): Posters (59); Zines and pins (23 each), primogems (22)

Least popular item(s): Commissions (2)

Upon entering the venue we were accosted by many helpful staff directing us exactly where we needed to go (hooray!). Vaccine card checks and masks were mandatory. As soon as we checked in the artist alley liaisons introduced themselves to us and let us know they were happy to help with anything we may need.

My friend and I set up on the thursday before the show, giving us time to go have fun in San Jose afterwards (oh how I missed California, even if it did catch fire while I was there).

I have done crunchyroll expo before on its first year (2017?) when it was in the Santa Clara convention center. I find that California shows tend to not be impressed with my work (they largely like the work of people like sakimi-chan and other digital artists). Unfortunately, the attendees were more impressed by the proxy seller to my one side and the seller on my other side who sold ahoge face masks and traced shirts.

The tables were 8’ each, which was nice, but they were also smooshed directly up to each other, making each row very packed. With many artists creating booths that wall off their sides it made each table feel very claustrophobic, and assaulted attendees with just a constant sensory stream. By the time they reached my table in the second to last row I could see their eyes glazed over - your work had to be incredibly different to entice them.

Additionally, the “guests” were these hololive AI v-tubers, which I had no merch of, and seem to attract the “stereotypical otaku guy,” who is not my audience in any way.

Crunchyroll also requires all artists to have their own event insurance (with coverage up to $2m) - they are the only show that requires this, which just adds an extra cost to an already expensive show.

I did make a commissioner cry (from happiness) when I handed her the commission I drew for her, which is always extra special.

Gross sales: ~$2000

Recommend/will attend again? It is such a big name show, but I can’t justify flying out for so little return. Had I still been local to San Jose it would have been much more affordable.

Other 2022 convention reviews:

Otakon

Gem City

Dokidokon

Anime Midwest

Anime Ohio

Huntington Toy & Comic Con

Momocon

SPACE

Causeacon

Indiana Comic Con

Ohayocon

Anime Zap (featuring 2021 review links)

These reviews take a lot of time and effort, but I think they are something the artist alley community needs! If you would like to support me so I can keep doing these, please consider donating or buying from my shops!

Help support Heidi Black by donating or sharing with your friends.

Storenvy

Etsy

#crunchyroll #crunchyroll expo #crx #artist alley #anime convention #convention #anime #artist alley review #convention review #con review #anime con

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meetmymouth · 4 years

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AUBADE ; HARRY STYLES

WORD COUNT: 12k

warnings: smut, smoking, alcohol consumption.

thank you @harryandhockey and @burberryharold for beta-ing this baby, you guys are the sweetest angels!

When the doorbell goes off for the third time that night, she groans and tosses the lipstick on her bed, then makes her way towards the door. Through the stained glass, she sees a tall figure and rolls her eyes.

“Look, this is the third time- oh. It’s you.”

The blonde raises her eyebrows, “Who were you expecting? Also wow, I feel so welcome, thank you.”

“Sorry,” the door closes behind Charlotte, and they walk inside.

Once in the tiny kitchen, kettle already on, she takes time to coat her eyelashes with mascara.

“Who did you think I was, that was quite the welcome.”

“Couple of girls kept knocking on the door. Something about a survey. I’ve no idea. Hey, can you help me put this on?” She takes a necklace out of her jean pocket and hands it over.

It’s Thursday, which means happy hour at their local pub and after that, they’d take N31 towards Camden to listen to a friend of Charlotte’s, an upcoming indie artist. She usually didn’t like going out on weekdays since she worked 8 to 4 and she would need to wake up at 6AM sharp to get ready and leave her flat for her Friday shift. But ever since Charlotte started working for the touring musician Harry Styles, they saw each other twice- once when they toured England and the second one being right before Charlotte left for tour. Being close friends since school, it was safe to say that she felt her absence and missed her friend dearly but were also so proud of her for everything she’d achieved.

So when Charlotte came home during their break, she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her friend and if it meant spending her Friday shift hungover while cleaning up animal urine and puke from all kinds of animals, then so be it.

“There,” Charlotte pats her on the neck after she clasps the necklace and she turns around, hand reaching to turn the kettle off.

“Ta. When are we leaving? And do you think I should go for my Adidas or the boots?” She points at the heeled boots, half white half black by the kitchen entrance and Charlotte follows her gaze as she sips the hot beverage.

She looks at the boots, then her, then the boots again, “The boots for fuckin’ sure. They’re sick- where’d you get them?”

“Depop,” She lets out a chuckle, “Think they’re Topshop, ‘m not sure. Should we leave? Y’know I walk dead slow and now that I’m wearin’ the boots…”

“You really do...go get your shit, I’ll wash this.”

They’re gathered around a round table, the green paint of the wooden table beginning to chip, and everyone’s got drinks of their own, G&T being the most popular choice. There are only five of them, Charlotte, her, Phoebe and her girlfriend Jamie, and they’re chatting about anything and everything until Charlotte turns to her, straw between her red lips.

“So-”

“Oh dear, what have you done,” she cuts her off and earns a glare from her, and from the corner of her eye, she sees Phoebe and Jamie cross their arms as if they’re getting ready for their usual bickering.

“Fuck you,” Charlotte sighs, “I didn’t do anything. I just invited some more people to Julien’s show and wanted to...kinda ask if that’s alright with you”

“Oh,” she looks around the table, finding the other girls looking at their phones and she turns to Charlotte, “It’s fine. Who are they?”

Phoebe snorts at that and her eyebrows raise in question. She gives Phoebe a look, but Charlotte’s quicker as she throws a damp tissue at the blonde and Jamie laughs when it lands back on Charlotte’s lap. “You know Sarah from the band?”

“Oh, yeah!”

She remembers meeting Sarah at Charlotte’s new flat after she moved to London, the brunette bringing a cute snake plant and a weird- but cute tea set as a housewarming gift and they got on well. They talked about plants, Sarah giving her tips on how to keep certain plants alive, and she asked her lots of questions about her experience being a woman, especially a drummer in the music industry. Sarah was very soft spoken; she spoke as if she was talking to a baby, but she always made sure to maintain eye contact when she was having a conversation with you, listening and nodding when appropriate so that you felt special and...understood. She was lovely, which was why she found it weird how Charlotte was acting awkward about her joining them tonight.

“And her boyfriend, Mitch, of course,” Charlotte adds and she nods, motioning for her to keep going. “And Harry.”

“Harry Styles?”

“Oh boy,” Jamie whistles.

“Obviously,” Charlotte sucks on her straw, slurping her drink, “Yeah, him,” she repeats, this time softer.

“I...why?” She chooses to ask, surprised as she’d like to think Harry Styles as this unreachable, ever-so-busy person who wouldn’t be interested in a night out like this. She turns to Phoebe, and then Jamie, and they respond with a shrug as Phoebe goes back to cuddling into Jamie’s side.

“What do you mean why?” Charlotte places her drink on the table, “It would be rude not to since I asked Sarah and Mitch.”

“Well, I just mean, isn’t he busy?”

Jamie whistles again and sings her name, “You got a crush, babes?”

“Nonsense, never even met the guy- which,” she looks around the table, “-is one of the reasons why I was confused. Anyway, it doesn't matter,” she shrugs and turns to Charlotte, “I’m not bothered, Lotts, it’s totally fine.”

“Y’sure?”

She gives her a nod, “I just find him intimidating and don’t think he’d be into indie, that’s all.”

It was true. Despite having not met Mr. Harry Styles, deep down she knew he’d be intimidating because he was so good looking and well, just like most people, she loved One Direction. She was a big fan, she even got told off by her stepmother once when she was younger because apparently the tape she used to hang her One Direction posters was ruining the walls. She often referred to them as twinks, and she didn’t even know what it meant until she was older. She remembers how she got made fun of at sixth form because one of the girls found her old Tumblr and told everyone about it. Harry’s never been her favourite though. Not because she didn’t find him attractive, not at all. It was because he was too attractive and was everyone’s favourite so whenever asked, she’d shrug and tell people how she found Louis funny, and then Zayn because ’he’s the hottest’.

Long story short, despite her friendship with Charlotte, she’d never met Harry, never had the opportunity to attend one of his shows because she was either too busy or they were playing in a different country and she simply couldn’t afford it. So tonight would be the first time they’d get to be in the same place and to say that she was nervous would be an understatement. And her, she always thought she was awkward. Way too awkward for social gatherings but she liked going out regardless, drinking cheap alcohol and dancing to shitty songs in an equally shitty pub. She loved being a student. Loved the freedom the title had given her. What’s your occupation, she’d get asked from time to time. Student, she’d say without hesitating. She was a student. She didn’t have to be anything else for three years. Sure, she was also working part time at an animal shelter but for the most part, she loved being a student. That’s how she met Phoebe, and then Jamie. In a way, she was their matchmaker.

She remembers meeting Phoebe last year when they had a class together. She was the first person to smile at her in the overcrowded lecture theatre and she remembers thinking how nice Phoebe’s green fringe looked. Meeting Jamie though, was funny. Phoebe usually got weird when they joked about it since she met Jamie before Phoebe did on Tinder, even went on a date with her, and then right before she was about to ghost her, she thought of how similar Phoebe and Jamie were. It was then that she made Phoebe go on a date with Jamie, and after a month of pining, they got together. Even though they were similar, she always thought that they actually completed each other, Jamie being the logical one and Phoebe encouraging Jamie to let loose from time to time and live in the moment.

Charlotte reaches and boops her nose, “He’s a musician, he loves all kinds of music. He won’t eat you, babe. He’s nice, I promise.”

Phoebe knocks on the wood, getting everyone’s attention, “Can we get a picture with him? An autograph?”

She feels a throbbing pain in her feet, toes in particular once they’re in and they wait for Phoebe and Jamie to buy their drinks, knowing she’d wake up with blisters in the morning. Charlotte takes out her phone and presumably texts the others, letting them know they were already here. She felt nervous. Nervous because she always thought she was rubbish when it came to meeting new people; they either thought she was too intimidating or rude but in reality, it was only because she always felt anxious meeting new people and would rather stay quiet than talking nonsense.

She takes time to analyse her outfit, a pair of black mom jeans and her boots, oh the boots who were currently grilling her feet. Then she tries to adjust her lace bodysuit, all of a sudden feeling super self conscious about the ”revealing” outfit. She adjusts the top, hoping her tits weren’t out before, and sighs when she touches the oversized blazer, rolling up the sleeves a bit more since it was beginning to get warm, too warm for her liking inside. Considering how she often felt self conscious about her arms, she felt more comfortable with the blazer over the sexy bodysuit.

“So,” she starts, eyes studying the crowded bar before her gaze stops at Charlotte, “Are they here?”

Charlotte looks up from her phone and nods, leaning her head on her shoulder. She feels her arm going around her waist and smiles, nudging her head with hers and she looks up, giving her a smile of her own. “What’s up, blondie?” she asks, hand coming up to ruffle Charlotte’s fringe.

She sighs, “Just tired, to be honest. I’m glad I wore trainers.”

“At least one of us is happy about their shoe choice.”

They watch as Phoebe and Jamie walk towards them, the brunette handing her a tall glass as Phoebe hands Charlotte her own drink. “When’s she on?”

Everyone turns to Charlotte, “Half an hour, maybe?”

“When are your friends coming? It’s getting quite...stuffy in here,” Jamie looks around and Phoebe nods, hands going around Jamie’s waist to pull the brunette into her.

“I texted Sarah and she said Harry was parking the car- oh, I see Mitch.”

They all look around, and she spots the tall guy with long hair, walking towards them with Sarah and Harry behind. She gulps and tries to look away, praying that no one takes notice of her sweaty forehead and shaky hands.

As the trio walk towards them, she takes a moment to examine Harry, and his outfit. Even in the dimly lit bar, she’s almost sure the high waisted trousers he has on are navy, and he’s got a tan...or a beige shirt tucked in them, chest on full display and she notices a cross necklace, looking as if it was made for his pretty neck. She clears her throat as quietly as she can and looks down but not before she takes a peek at his shoes, and she almost snorts at the choice of red boots he’s got on, noticing how everyone had trainers on while the two of them had what looked like very uncomfortable boots on.

To be honest, she thinks, he looks pretty good. She looks around them, noticing how most guys had jeans and ugly trainers on whereas Harry looked like he made quite the effort with his outfit but she also knows that even if he turned up in jeans and ugly trainers, he would still look amazing. Damn Harry Styles. Was she blushing?

The three of them are in their space now, close enough so she can make out Sarah’s overpowering perfume, and she clears her throat once again when Charlotte embraces Sarah first, then Mitch. Before she can watch her hug Harry, Sarah’s in front of her.

“Hi,” she smiles, going in for a hug, “It’s so nice to see you again. It’s been a while,” she says and her voice comes out muffled since they’re still hugging and she hopes her hair smells decent because Sarah’s face is pressed against her neck and hair.

“It’s nice to see you too! How have you been?”

“‘Been alright, I suppose!” She beams at her and turns to the man with long hair, “This is Mitch.”

As Sarah introduces everyone with Mitch, she feels Harry’s eyes on her, though she can’t turn her head and meet his gaze because that’d be rude seeing how Mitch is about to reach and give her a one armed hug. Alright then, she thinks, they’re a hugger. Then, it’s Harry’s turn. She looks at him, seeing how his eyes are focused on Phoebe and Jamie as he gives them both a warm smile before Charlotte starts talking again, introducing everyone to Phoebe and Jamie, then everyone turns to her, and she feels her face heat up seeing how everyone’s attention is on her now. She knows it’s her turn.

Harry takes a step forward and her earlier thoughts are confirmed when she can finally make out the colour of his trousers. “Hey, ‘m Harry,” he gives her a smile without waiting for Charlotte to speak, “Nice meeting you,” he comes closer and wraps an arm around her, engulfing her in a hug but it’s definitely different from Mitch or Sarah’s hug. It’s tight, much warmer and he’s got both arms around her, palms flat against her back as he rubs her back.

And of course she responds with the same warmness and hugs him back, “Hiya,” she introduces herself, and once they pull apart, he repeats her name and it sounds like poetry, something so personal and...erotic. But maybe, she thinks, maybe it’s just his deep voice making her feel that way.

Despite the moment they shared, if she could call it that, felt like hours, it was merely a minute. And it wasn’t like in the films where they hug, everything around them slowing down as the people watch in awe. No, not at all. When she looks around, she sees that everyone’s been already mingling, Phoebe and Jamie smiling at each other while they sipped their drinks, and Mitch is nowhere to be seen, possibly at the bar getting drinks.

Harry turns to Charlotte with a grin, “So is she any good, should we replace you with her?” He says, nudging her with his hip.

That sort of makes her smile, seeing Harry so carefree and friendly with the people who are essentially working for him. Even though she doesn’t know Harry Styles like they do, like Charlotte does, she knows he considers these people to be his friends and colleagues rather than his employees. It’s also fun seeing him this friendly with her best friend, and she feels proud, as she always does, knowing Charlotte has made herself great friends and that she clearly enjoys working with these people.

Charlotte nudges him back, “She’s great, I wouldn’t mind being replaced by her. Oh, there she is,” she points at the stage, and everyone turns to look at the pink-haired girl on the tiny stage with a sleek looking acoustic guitar on her side. As the others start talking about Julien, she finally takes the opportunity to look at Harry. Once their eyes meet, he gives her a smile, dimples on full display, and she swears she could see him blush when he looks down after she beamed at him. Even if he did blush though, he recovers quickly when he’s offered a drink and he mutters a thank you to Mitch, then lifts the slice of lime off the rim of his glass and sucks it into his mouth and she deems it as a good time to look away.

And she does, when she feels Sarah close, and she turns to her, Sarah welcoming her with a smile, “How’s uni? It’s your last year, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” she clears her throat, “It’s alright. Exhausting, but alright.”

“You’re working too, right?”

“Yeah, I work at an animal shelter.”

“It must be exhausting.”

“It is,” she gives her a nod, “I work three days a week and I also have classes so I only have Sundays off. I’ll probably leave and focus on uni after Christmas break though, I have my dissertation next semester.”

“Oh, cool! I miss being a student,” she purses her lips and turns to Harry, who had been listening to their conversation, his pretty fingers, most of them adorned with equally pretty rings, wrapped around the tall glass, “You probably can’t relate, H, can ya?”

He rolls her eyes but laughs regardless, “Piss off.”

Despite the chatter around them, it’s not ridiculously loud so they can carry a conversation without having to shout. They fall into an easy conversation, everyone joining in, and all of a sudden a pink neon light falls over them and they all turn to the stage. Julien starts singing, and all the chatter around them dies down, some people already starting to sing the words back at her.

She looks away from the stage for a minute and catches Harry’s gaze from across the room. They’re close enough for her to make out a few droplets of sweat on Harry’s forehead, and their eyes meet as he gives her a smile, eyes sparkling with mischief, then brings the glass up to his mouth. She watches as his top lip rests on the rim before he lifts it to his mouth and when she looks up, she sees him still looking at, gaze unwavering and mouth curled upwards in a sly smirk. She was caught. She was caught and he looked like he was loving and devouring every second of it.

Julien takes a break, promising to come back with a brand new song from her upcoming EP, and there’s a group of people making their way towards the exit, presumably to have a smoke and get some fresh air.

“Where’s she gone?” Charlotte huffs, eyes searching the room for the pink haired girl.

“She’s over there,” Phoebe points at Julien and they all turn to where she’s pointing at, spotting Julien near the bar with a drink in hand.

“Is she flirting?”

“She’s got groupies already?” she says after she takes her eyes off of Harry and everyone laughs.

Charlotte comes closer and nudges her shoulder against her, “You’d know, wouldn’t you?” “Be quiet,” she nudges back, and their group falls back into their conversation except Harry, who keeps staring at her and she gulps, hands reaching to feel her blazer pockets.

“Right,” she mutters, “It’s time to poison myself. I’m going out for a fag,” once she feels the bulge in her pocket, she turns to Charlotte, “Send me a text when she’s back on, yeah?”

“I’ll come with.”

She looks up at Harry, surprised, but nods, waiting for him to follow her outside. Even though she tries her best not to make eye contact with anyone as they leave, she’s aware of them watching them, everyone in their group equally surprised, but they keep walking, Harry following quietly behind. Once they pass the smelly bodies, they’re finally outside, the wind licking her face once she steps out and she tries to hug herself closer, seeing how the thin blazer’s not doing a good job at keeping her warm.

Harry wishes he’d brought a coat.

They’re quiet as he follows her to a quiet corner, only a few people turning their heads their way, presumably recognising him, and they stop near a brick wall and she takes her tobacco out of her left pocket. She looks up, catching him staring at her ring-clad fingers wrapped around the dark green packet, and she clears her throat, making him look up at her. They share a smile, both feeling at ease with the comfortable silence between them. She spots a wooden bench near and sits down, hands already working the packet open. When she starts tearing the tobacco apart, Harry can’t help but note how quickly she’s working it between her fingers, and he’s almost certain she’s been doing this for years.

“Want one?” She asks and he saunters forward, coming to stand in front of her with hands in his pockets.

He shrugs and she takes that as a yes, fingers pausing their work on the tobacco to take out something that resembles a cigarette and it’s only when she pushes it from the bottom that Harry realises they’re filters. Placing one between her lips, her fingers dip into her pocket once again to retrieve some papers and Harry finds himself unable to look away from her lips and how pretty they look with something between them.

He looks down at her lap, where the packet of tobacco is, seeing her fingers work swiftly as she fills the thin paper, and despite knowing better not to glamorise something as horrible and disgusting as smoking, he takes his time to admire the way she pushes down the tobacco with her index finger, presumably trying to fit and secure everything inside the paper. Taking the filter from between her lips, she places it inside the paper, at the very end, and her fingers start rolling.

Oh fuck, he thinks, knowing what’s about to come. Unable to look away, he watches as she brings it up to her mouth and licks a long stripe along the paper, and despite the lack of lighting around them, his eyes make out her pink tongue moving along the paper and it doesn’t come as a surprise when he feels a sudden twitch in his trousers at the unholy image before his eyes.

“There,” she hands him the rolled up cigarette, “Hope you don’t mind that I licked?”

He wants to laugh because of course he doesn’t mind. In fact, he quite enjoyed it, according to the knot in his stomach and his twitching cock in his underwear. He enjoyed it so much that he now couldn’t stop imagining her mouth doing other things, preferably dirty things with, or to him.

“Nah, it’s all good, thanks.”

“No probs. Didn’t take you as the smoking type,” she lets it slip out.

“I...don’t smoke, really. Only sometimes. When I’m drinking. Which…” He looks at the cigarette between her fingers, “...isn’t that often.”

She notices the nervousness that tinges his words, and it makes her feel better knowing he’s also as awkward as her. “Fair,” she sends him a smile and repeats all the steps on her own rollie, putting it between her lips just like Harry, and she takes her lighter out of the same pocket. She lights her own first and reaches to light his, and he sort of bends over until his cigarette reaches the lighter. They both take a hefty drag of their cigarettes and she blows the smoke out first, Harry watching her pursed lips as he lets out his own next, both of their cigarette smoke swirling in the air and joining in together.

He takes it out of his mouth and lets his arm dangle on his side, cigarette between his fingers, and watches as she takes another drag before fumbling with the packet on her lap, putting everything back in her pocket haphazardly.

“Do you go to uni in London, or?”

“Westminster, yeah,” she takes another drag and notices how Harry hasn’t taken another one of his since.

“Nice,” he says and a grin stretches over his face, “Charlotte talks about you a lot.”

“She does?”

“Yeah, all the time. If I didn’t know about her boyfriend I’d say she was in love with you,” he laughs and gestured to the lighter in her hand and she lets him take the lighter from her hand, watching as the flame lick at the cigarette between Harry’s lip and he takes a long drag. “I mean, we...the band feel like we already know you. It’s sweet, how much she cares about you.”

“Well, I’m pretty hard not to love, you know.”

He blows out the smoke, a chuckle escaping his mouth, “That right?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking great.”

“Well, I-”

He gets interrupted by her phone going off and a pout forms on his face. She huffs, looking around, then throws the cigarette on the ground despite the sign and he does the same, not feeling bad in the slightest. “We going in?” He asks, like a lost puppy waiting for his owner’s command.

“I guess. Is it bad that I don’t want to? Like...does that make me a bad friend?”

“Nah. I...I kinda wanted to stay here too. I was enjoying our conversation.”

She sends him a grin, eyes mischievous, and stops walking, “You telling me you weren’t bored to death by my dry ass conversation?”

“Dry? You opened up and talked about your narcissistic behaviours, that’s not boring, darling,” he smirks and she rolls her eyes, hand reaching to slap his chest and it feels easy, like they’ve known each other for years. “Alright, alright, ’m just messing with you.”

She starts walking again, a few steps ahead of him, and he follows, passing three girls with phones up to their faces.

It’s easy, he thinks, it’s easy with her.

People in the bar begin to leave one by one, and it’s only their small group and a few others left, some of them still sipping their drinks and the others talking and laughing. Some even come up to Julien, who’s sipping her water from a reusable water bottle as Charlotte keeps snapping pictures of her, and they all congratulate her, telling her how excited they are about the EP. She’s all smiles, fringe sticking to her forehead due to sweat, and her long arms are equally sweaty, dressed in a tight black dress with striped knee high socks adorning her long legs, and a pair of platform Mary Janes.

“So,” Harry says, folding his arms across his chest, “Do you have any plans for October?”

Mitch snorts across him and Julien tilts her head, puzzled, “Erm...I’ve no idea, to be honest. It’s months away and God knows I’m shite at thinking ahead. That’s why I’m friends with this lot,” she gestures to their tiny group, causing Charlotte to snort and Julien continues, turning her attention to her who’s playing with the hem of her blazer, “This one though...”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Oi, what’s crawled up your bum, eh?” Julien turns to Harry again, catching how his gaze flickered over her body, then her face instead of looking at Julien and she finds herself smirking at the tension between the two.

“We’re thinking of putting a show together for Halloween. I have a bunch of new and upcoming artists in my mind that I’d love to see perform that night. Would you be interested?” Harry’s attention is back on Julien and he watches as the girl gasps, eyes widening in excitement.

“Shut the fuck up!” She yells, almost dropping her water bottle and they all laugh, Charlotte reaching to flip her on the forehead and she slaps her freshly-manicured hand away, “You’re not taking the piss, are you?”

Harry laughs, “Am definitely not. I love your vibe. That’s actually one of the reasons why I asked Charlotte if I could come tonight,” he says as he runs his fingers through his hair, the strands gliding easily between his long fingers.

“Yeah,” Charlotte smiles at Julien, “He’s on a hunt. He thinks he’s one of those talent agents. Just say yes, Jules, it’ll be fun.”

“Holy fuck. Yes. Fuck, yes. Of fucking course, yes!”

They all laugh when she lunges herself at Harry, arms wrapping around his neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, fuck I could literally kiss you right now but I won’t, I’ve been watching you both undress each other with your eyes all night,” arms still around Harry’s neck, Julien turns her head towards her, whom Harry’s been looking at all night, and gives her a wink before breaking their hug. “So, do I have to do anything? What do I have to do? Fuck, I’m so bad at this-”

“Hey,” Harry interrupts, “It’s fine. Relax. Are you signed with anyone? Have a manager?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m with Gleam, my manager, Alana, she’s sick that’s why she wasn't here tonight.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Just give me your phone number and your manager’s contact details and we’ll sort everything out. Hey- relax, it’s gonna be fun!” He reaches and gives her shoulder a squeeze.

“I called an Uber,” Sarah says after her phone goes off, “And it looks like…” she taps on the screen a few times, “Hassan is here.”

“We could’ve gotten maccies,” she says, pouting, as her head rests on Charlotte’s shoulder.

Sarah sighs, cuddling closer into Mitch’s side, “We’re leaving for Brighton tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, Sarah’s making us wake up at, like, five,” Mitch grumbles.

They all start walking towards the exit, Julien and Harry in the back talking about the show as Charlotte links her arm with her as they follow behind the others. As they walk, she remembers how Harry arrived with Sarah and Mitch, meaning they shared a ride, and she turns to look at Harry who seems to be in deep conversation as he waves his hands around.

She feels hot all of a sudden, remembering how neither of them wanted to go inside earlier, how good he looked and how his voice sounded, deep, so deep, when his attention was only on her and not the girl on the stage or his drink or the people around them. As selfish as it sounds, she wanted all his attention on her, she wanted him to only look at her, see her, think of her, and she feels foolish because they only met tonight, and their conversation earlier didn’t last that long.

Once they’re outside, everyone sighs, almost in relief as the fresh air fills their lungs, and everyone bids their goodbyes to Sarah and Mitch, then Phoebe starts complaining about how uncomfortable and tired she was.

“That’s it from us, folks, my wife needs a shower,” Jamie pinches Phoebe’s cheek as Phoebe blushes, swatting her hand away.

She turns to Harry for a second and he’s just standing there, arms folded with an expression she’s unable to read, and Julien laughs, muttering something about catching a black cab since she now has money to waste.

Everyone leaves and it’s only them, and Charlotte comes closer to her as she nudges her hip with hers, “Hey. Is it cool if Harry gives you a ride? Tom’s picking me up.”

She panics and gives her a puzzled look. A car ride with Harry. Alone. Just the two of them.

She swallows, “How come you never mention it?”

“He just texted me, we’re driving up to Manc. Will you be okay?” She reaches and strokes her cheek, then turns to Harry, as if the question was directed at both of them.

“Well, yeah...I mean- I’ll call a Bolt or something-”

“It’s fine, I can give you a ride,” Harry says, hands now in his pockets. He looks like he’s cold too, considering how he’s only wearing a thin shirt and his chest is on full display, letting the breeze softly lick at the flesh.

“I wouldn’t want to be a bother, I can take a Bolt. Really, it’s fine.”

“I insist...whereabouts is your place?”

“Ehm,” she sniffs and her eyes look for Charlotte for a moment, and when she spots her, she’s watching them despite the phone pressed against her ear. “Marylebone.”

“Great! That alright with you?”

She looks at Charlotte again, the short haired girl failing to meet her gaze, and she turns to Harry again, lips pursed, “I guess- I mean...sure. Okay.”

Harry beams at that, the dimple on his left cheek widening with the smile, and she wants to reach out and touch it, place her finger there. She doesn’t though. Instead, she gives him a smile and looks down at her boots, feeling all giddy inside with the realisation that she’d be alone with Harry for a while and it would also be away from any prying eyes, in the warmth of his car.

Charlotte comes back and reaches for her, giving her a big hug as she buries her head in her neck, and she involuntarily breathes in the smell of cigarettes and Charlotte’s personal favourite, Chanel no. 5.

“Text me when you’re home, yeah? And text me if you need anything...he’s nice, I promise,” she whispers the last part, as if she’s letting her in on a secret, then reaches for Harry to give him a hug.

“Drive safe,” she says, walking backwards, “I mean it.”

“I will. Precious cargo, am I right?”

Harry opens the door for her and waits for her to get in, her lips form the words ‘thank you’, and once they’re both inside, seatbelts on, Harry sighs and tries to fix his creased shirt. She watches his hands, the rings catching the light coming from a lamppost outside, creating beams, and she notices the single, nearly-chipped gold nail polish on his left pinky.

“So…” they both say at the same time and he laughs, shaking his head, and a few strands fall to his eyes.

She chuckles too, eyes falling to her hands on her lap as she fiddles with them. “I think we’ve been set up,” she mumbles and looks up at him, finding him watching her carefully with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on his thigh.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m usually not this dumb.”

“Maybe you wanted play dumb, hm?” He gives her a smile, causing her to scoff, and he surprises them both when his left hand reaches to stroke her cheek, making goosebumps appear on her skin and she swears she could hear her breath hitch at the warm touch, feeling hot all over.

They stare at each other, his hand still on her cheek, and she swallows, “Sure, whatever you say.”

“Is this okay?” He asks, gesturing at the touch, voice as soft and smooth as honey.

She nods, because it is. It is more than okay and if it were up to her, they’d already be kissing, tasting each other’s dirty, sweaty skin and touching each other all over, feeling each other’s bodies...she wanted all of that.

She swallows again, his gaze shifting from her face to her neck, then lower and lower until it reaches her boobs. They look divine, he thinks, despite the lack of lighting in his car, they look absolutely gorgeous, sort of spilling out from the lace material and he gulps, hand beginning to make its way down to her neck. He rests it there as long fingers caress the side of her neck, discovering a few moles there, and he looks up at her, only to find her eyes fixed on his lap. He looks down to, the slight tent not coming as a surprise, and he gives her a grin, the other hand coming to rest atop his bulge.

“Hm?” He hums as he waits for her answer despite knowing what she would say.

She clears her throat and looks around, seeing the almost empty parking lot all dark except the stop sign near the exit, and turns her attention back to Harry.

“Yes. It’s okay.”

“Mmm,” his fingers curl around her throat, thumb stroking the flesh there, “Thank you, love. Can I kiss you?”

“You can...Please,” she practically moans when his thumb presses a sweet spot on her neck and he gives her a smile, hand reaching to unbuckle both of their seatbelts with a click.

It doesn’t happen that fast. First, he gives her a look, almost as if he’s trying to remember where her lips are and the nose, then her eyes...he keeps looking, and looking, and he brings his hand up to her mouth, resting his thumb on her bottom lip as her eyes shift downwards with the movement. While he watches her, she takes her time to watch him, his face, and she feels something bubbling inside her, much like the bubbles that rise to the top when you open a coke bottle.

Pressure, she thinks, pressure and the need to devour him. Thus, without thinking too much, she reaches and grabs him by the nape of his neck, his hand falling atop the car seat as their lips meet, both of them hungry for each other’s touch as their teeth clash and Harry lets out a hiss when she bites his bottom lip, suckining it into her mouth.

His hands go up to her cheeks, pushing her far enough to look into her face and eyes in particular and he smiles, the inside of his palms feeling the soft peach fuzz on her face. When she lunges forward to continue their kiss, he stops her, thumb stroking her cheekbones as she lets out a huff, and he chuckles, “Slow, baby, slow. We’ve got time. I want to feel you, taste you as much as I can, yeah?”

She nods, letting him stroke the side of her face some more and feel her skin against his soft hands before he starts leaning in, this time slow, so slow that it feels like hours to her. Before she closes her eyes, she catches a glimpse of his pink tongue dart out to lick his lips, and he finally captures her top lip, sucking it into his mouth softly and she melts under his touch, her mouth pursed as she starts responding with her own kisses. Their lips, she feels, fit together like a puzzle piece.

Harry’s tongue swipes across her bottom lip and she opens wider, letting him lick into her mouth further. It’s hot, wet, and she feels herself getting wetter and wetter as the smooch noises grow louder with each kiss. His hands are now cupping both of her cheeks, and as he presses wet pecks on her parted mouth, one of his thumbs travel down to her mouth and he stops their kiss, and she opens her eyes, giving him a puzzled look.

He shushes her, lips pursed as he does so, and her eyes watches the movement, wanting to feel them all over her body now that she knows how he feels and tastes like. He presses his thumb against her bottom lip, then into her mouth and pulls her closer to him. He shuts his eyes and tilts his head when she closes her mouth around his thumb, sucking it like a lolly, and his cock twitches in his trousers again as he watches the way she sucks on his flesh, humming around it as if she’s having the most delicious meal of her life.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, “Y’like playing with me, don’t you?”

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes his thumb out of her mouth with a pop and she holds him by the wrist, placing his hand on one of her boobs and Harry lets her warm hands and the feeling of lace overpower him as he gives her boob a squeeze, then travels his hand down to where he supposes her nipple is and brushes a thumb over it, a beaming grin stretching across his face when he feels her pebbled nipple under his thumb.

When he looks at her face, she’s biting her lips, eyes shut, and he bites his own lips as he traps her covered nipple between his thumb and index finger, tweaking it gently which causes her to breathe out a moan, toes curling involuntarily inside her boots. He tugs at it, then his hand travels up and he looks at her, as if to ask her permission for what he’s about to do. And she nods, of course she does, and she feels her upper torso getting sore from the position they’ve been in but she lets it go, reaching for his hand near her boob and places it on top of his, encouraging him to keep going.

With her hand on top of his, he slides the bodysuit down from the top, and he feels his cock twitch in interest so he has to bring his other hand down to press against his bulge over his trousers in hopes of relieving some of the tension. He plays with her nipple, tweaking and squeezing it between his fingers before finally leaning to capture the pebbled nipple into his mouth. “God damn, your tits...so fuckin’ hot, baby,” he bites her nipple and she shudders, back arching in pleasure. “Wanna do everything with you...wanna fuck you- wanna fuck these tits,” he whispers against her nipple, now wet with his spit, and his hot breath sends chills down her spine.

It’s warm, his mouth, so warm and wet around her hard nipples and she lets out another moan, arms wrapping around his neck and she tries to press against him closer. “Fuck,” a moan leaver her mouth, “Please, Harry, fuck me. Do something, just- ‘m so wet.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you? Jesus,” he presses a kiss to her nipple before he frees her other boob from the fabric, “You’re so fuckin’ hot. Got me so fuckin’ hard, just look at these gorgeous tits, baby. Bet your cunt’s even more gorgeous, hm?” He whispers, hands already on the other boob, squeezing the nipple and he watches as it hardens, looking so pretty and puckered for him and he gets his mouth on that one too, licking across the nipple before he bites it into his mouth.

“Can I take this off, sweetheart?” He touches her shoulder, squeezing her there over the blazer, and when he sees the hesitation in her eyes, he travels his hand up to her neck and strokes it there, “Y’don’t have to, darling. However you’re comfortable.”

“No,” she says ever so softly, “It’s okay.”

He smiles at her as she takes the jacket off and throws it somewhere at her feet. Harry grabs her by the neck and brings her in for another kiss but this time, it’s slow. And sweet. Slow, sweet, and warm, so warm that she feels it in her chest, in her stomach, and it reaches everywhere, the kiss warming anything and everything inside her. He swipes a tongue across her bottom lip before pulling away, and places both hands on her boobs, squeezing them, mouth popping open as he watches them in awe.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he brings one of his hands to the front of his trousers and the heels of his palms press against the bulge, but instead of giving him some relief, the touch makes him hiss, wishing for something softer, warmer.

“Can I fuck you? I need to fuck you, please, sweetheart,” he whispers and she nods, tongue darting out to lick her dry lips and he nods as well, looking around inside the car, swiftly examining the tinted black windows before he turns to her, “I hate that I’m about to fuck that pretty pussy in the backseat of my car instead of a comfortable bed but I need it so bad, sweetheart, I need you,” he licks his lips, “That okay?”

“Yes...more than.”

He helps her move to the backseat, boobs still hanging from the top, and he joins her in the backseat quickly. They’re closer now, nothing serving as a barrier between them, and with the way they’re facing each other, she can make out a tiny pimple on the side of his nose as well as a little mole on his forehead. Her gaze falls to his bulge again, and he’s already fumbling to get them off. With a swallow, she shuts her eyes so she doesn’t see Harry watching her intently, dilated pupils fixated on her sweaty skin, her lips in particular.

He leans in and presses an open mouth kiss to her damp skin, the touch making her open her eyes.

Take it off” she whispers, voice as sweet as honey, “Come on, I want you to fuck me,” she breathes against his hair, his head now in the crook of her neck, and she feels him nod, his hands coming to rest atop hers.

He fumbles with the button with shaky hands, her hands coming to rest on Harry’s waist and he sighs in relief when he hears the zipper. He lowers his trousers along with his underwear clumsily, the pile of material pooling around his ankles. He’s hard and leaking already, the tip an angry shade of red, and she takes a few seconds to admire the thickness of his cock and how pretty it looks, his dark, coarse pubic hair making her mouth water as she imagines deepthroating him, nuzzling the hair at the base of his cock.

Harry looks up and she’s got one hand on her boob while the other rubs herself through her jeans, presumably feeling aroused with the way the fabric is feeling against her pussy. A low, choked ‘fuck’ leaves his mouth following a growl as his long fingers begin unbuttoning the beige shirt and she watches, bottom lip trapped between her teeth with fingers rubbing herself.

Once it’s unbuttoned, he’s quick to get his hands on her jeans, eyes briefly searching for something in hers before he starts unbuttoning them. She stops him and bends over to take her boots off and he watches her back, hand reaching involuntarily to travel his fingers down her spine, stroking her waist before he bends forward to place a kiss on there as she keeps fumbling with her boots. Once they’re off, he’s quick to help her get the jeans off too, and he throws them in the front seat, smiling when she hears her giggle.

“Alright, Miss Giggles?” he says softly, palm resting on top of her thigh as one of his hands reaches and strokes the side of her face, fingers playing in her wild strands of hair.

She bites her lip again, giving him a nod, and he brings her face into his, lips pressing a tender kiss to her chin before he opens his mouth slightly and grazes his teeth across the flesh, and he presses a final, loud kiss there before he pulls away with a pop, leaving her chin all shiny and wet with his saliva. He lowers his eyes and spots her thong, fabric too tiny and flimsy to cover all the areas of her pussy, and he lets out a groan at the sight, hand immediately reaching to touch what’s under her little thong.

“So pretty, darling...so, so pretty,” he murmurs and she watches with parted legs as he positions his middle finger against her pussy over the black lace, thin, so he feels just how warm and wet she is between her folds. This makes him pause to look down at his cock, just to make sure he’s not about to spill all over the carseat since he feels the pleasure at the tip of his cock, ready to explode right then and there. “How can anyone ever resist you, hm? This pretty girl…” with one hand still between her legs, he reaches with his other hand and ghosts his thumb over her nipple, his other hand working her thong as he pulls it to the side, “...this pretty pussy,” he murmurs, making her eyes lull shut at the compliments.

She parts her legs wider to give him more room to work with, and he grins as he looks up at her hungry eyes, knowing what she’s asking for. And god, is he about to give her what she wants. The way she looks, not just half naked but from the moment he’d caught a glimpse of the grumpy girl across the room, it’s been driving him insane. Not that she was rude or looked bored, but she looked cute, kinda nervous, as if she too was as uncomfortable as Harry by the prying eyes and tipsy chatter around them.

From the moment they were introduced, Harry knew she didn’t particularly like to be looked at. Maybe he was being judgmental, or reading too much into things, but he got the impression that she was sort of nervous to be around people, especially new people. He tried his hardest not to be some weirdo, an utter creep who kept looking at the beautiful girl across him but truth be told, it wasn’t the first time Harry had seen the girl’s face.

He knew of her, stories about her, from Charlotte, and saw numerous photos and throwback videos of them on Charlotte’s Instagram, but he would never actually admit to the fact that he’d clicked on her tag on one of Charlotte’s posts, and scrolled through her feed for hours, giggling from time to time at her silly captions and numerous pictures of a Golden Retriever and a black cat cuddling.

Yes, he might have found her interesting, took a few screenshots of her posts where she proudly displayed her favourite reads, immediately ordering everything on there, and a few funny memes, but now with his middle finger circling her clit, he would never, ever admit any of that to anyone, ever.

“Harry,” she breathes, and it sounds sort of harsh, rough even, the reason presumably being a mix of the cigarettes she’d been smoking and the way his finger teasingly, slowly moves over her pussy. “Harry…” she says again, melodiously, fingers curling around his wrist and he looks up with a grin, eyes almost evil, dark and pupils dilated from hunger bubbling up inside him.

He retracts his finger and brings it up to his mouth slowly, her eyes watching him like a hawk, and his pink tongue darts out, licking a long stripe up his middle finger and he truly devours the savoury taste, eyes finding hers as he sucks the finger into his mouth. “Taste so good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, “Want me to play with that beautiful cunt, hm? Give it my full attention?”

“Yes, please, I need it so bad, I’ve been waiting for so long.”

“Yeah?” He asks, ever so softly, “How long?” He presses, his middle finger once again placed between her wet folds, and she wraps her fingers around his wrist.

There’s a bloom of pleasure in her voice when she lets out a shaky breath, a stuttered ’yeah’ because she doesn’t want to give in to Harry’s teasing game, and he leans forward, capturing her chin with his mouth as he bites the flesh while the pads of his finger massages slow and deep over her swollen clit.

He feels the spongy bit under his touch, “Tell me you’ve been thinking of this too,” he breathes against her wet chin, then brings his middle finger down to her hole. It’s wet, so fucking wet when he drags his finger back up and circles her clit faster than before which makes her legs kick out in pleasure, one hand grabbing harshly at her boob as the other go up to Harry’s soft hair and she pulls, fingernails scratching his scalp while doing so. He groans against her skin and drags his finger down to her slick little hole again, circling around the wet, soft muscle and he pushes his finger in, her cunt making a wet, lovely sound as he does so as his eyes fall to his throbbing cock.

It’s so hard, an unpleasant feeling blooming inside, so he takes his finger out of her hole, making her let out a tiny whimper as she clenches around nothing with the sudden loss of his touch. Harry brings his finger up to his mouth, and his pink tongue darts out to lick, mouth closing around to devour the slightly salty slickness.

“Can I fuck you now?” He asks as his hand goes to stroke the side of her neck, goosebumps appearing immediately at the touch. She shudders, unable to respond and Harry’s voice is softer this time, “Can I, baby? Will you let me fuck your pretty pussy now? I need it so bad, sweetheart, so fucking bad. See how hard I am for you? So fucking hard for you, baby.”

“God,” another shaky breath, “Please, I’m so wet and horny- I need it, Harry, please.”

“Need my cock, yeah? Need me to fill that little hole? Stretch your tiny little hole, darling?”

“Fuck- please, I- please stop teasing me, I need it...please, fuck me.”

Harry feels something, a prickly sensation inside him, his groin tightening, and he knows it’s her dirty mouth and sweet face to blame. He looks down at his cock, hard as rock between his legs, and grabs her by the waist, pulling her on top of him with ease. “There, sweet girl.”

He lets out a hiss when her warm pussy makes contact with his cock and she bites her lip, leaning forward until their sweaty foreheads meet. “Your pussy’s so fuckin’ warm. Shit, we need condoms,” a strong arm wraps around her waist and she gasps when he leans forward so suddenly. His face is buried into her boobs as he tries to retrieve his wallet from one of the compartments in between and she watches him struggle, unable to control a tiny laugh escaping her mouth.

“Well,” Harry mumbles, warm lips making her skin feel all tingly, “This is lovely...mmm,” a few kisses are pressed between her boobs, then another open mouth one on her left nipple, and they’re finally back to their previous position, condom package between Harry’s lips as he rips the top, never once taking his eyes off of her while doing so.

“Ready for me?” He gives himself a few lazy pulls, thumbing at the tip while she watches, one hand kneading her boob. “Hm? Ready to take my cock?” He moves his hand slowly, up and down, causing her to swallow.

“Yeah...fuck yeah. Please, fuck me.”

He looks up at her as the rubber works its way down his cock, and she joins her arms around his neck, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck, and he brings his cock to her cunt, earning a moan from her, her warm breath licking at his face ever so softly. He grunts, voice strained with pleasure when he feels how warm and wet she is at the touch of his cock and slides it against her warmth before he brings it down to her tight little hole and pauses there.

“Y’ready, sweet girl?” He nudges their foreheads together and it’s sweet, so sweet despite the position they’re in, and she nods, feeling their damp foreheads stick together, and Harry gives her a bright smile, dimple appearing on his left cheek.

And he pushes it in. With his thumb pressed against the tip, he pushes his cock inside her, the tightness squeezing his already sensitive cock as if she doesn’t want to let him go, as if she wants to keep him inside of her forever and ever.

“God, such a tight cunt, baby. Squeezing me already, hm?” He murmurs into her mouth, “Easy, darling...slow. Slow, yeah? Want to feel you properly,” his hands go up to her hips, holding her there to still the movement of her hips, and her arms loop around his sweaty neck, fingernails scratching the back of his neck and he hisses, face moving forward to press a bruising kiss on her parted mouth.

Once she calms down, hips stilled, his strong arms begin moving her up and down and they both moan, quick breaths leaving their mouths and mixing together just like how their bodies are almost joined together, two becoming one, and Harry starts moving his own hips so he can fuck into her as she helps her by moving her own hips up and down, slowly, just like he’d asked her to, feeling his cock stretching her tight hole with his every move. There’s a honking outside and both their movements still for a second, and a muffled chuckle leaves her mouth, arms tightening around Harry’s neck.

Their eyes meet, Harry’s mouth turning upwards, “What’s so funny, Miss Giggles, hm?” He murmurs as his hips speed up again, their skins slapping against each other as his cock strokes the insides of her walls ever so softly, sliding in and out of her.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking big, I- I knew you’d be big but...fuck, you’re so good, so fucking good, Harry,” she moans, earning a grunt from him as she meets his thrusts, her hands sliding down to Harry’s shoulders and squeezing his smooth skin briefly before she brings her palms down to her chest.

She strokes the hair on his chest, admiring the way his cross necklace sits proudly there, amongst his now damp chest hair, and she brings her palm to one of his nipples, thumb stroking the slightly darker nub and he lets out a groan as goosebumps appear on his chest and nipples.

“God,” she breathes and Harry can smell the fruity-sour alcohol on her breath, and his mouth pops open when she tweaks his sensitive nipples. “I love your nipples,” she moans again when his cock brushes that sweet spot inside her and he does too, arms tightening around her waist, and she tweaks his nipples again, this time harder as her hips speed up, ass slapping against his meaty thighs and she keeps jumps up on down on his cock.

As she does so, her boobs too move, bouncing up and down with her every movement and Harry reaches with one hand, capturing one of her nipples between his fingers as he tweaks left and right before letting it go, watching her skin prickle at the touch.

“Shit, y’feel amazing, just wanna keep you forever,” he groans, low and delirious, fingernails digging into her waist as he thrusts into her, “So fuckin’ tight around me...so tight and snug. I want you- want this everyday. Wanna be able to touch you, kiss that little face everyday, fuck this beautiful pussy...so good, darling, you’re so fuckin’ good, letting me fuck that sweet cunt in the backseat, hm? Are you good,” he breathes her name into her mouth, then bites her bottom lip, earning a gasp from her when his thrusts become particularly rough. “Are you a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m good, I’m so good, please- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fucking cum please keep fucking me, keep fucking me hard, Harry- keep going,” she speeds up her movements, Harry’s cock sliding in and out of her as wet, dirty sounds fill the car and he curses under his breath, hips lifting off the seat to meet her strokes.

“Are you close?” He manages to ask, a low grunt in his voice.

She doesn’t respond. Instead, she brings one hand down to her pussy and begins rubbing her clit, moaning when she touches the little nub and then, with her other hand, she reaches for Harry’s face, thumb stroking the side of the smooth skin before she places it on his bottom lip and presses hard, making him part his mouth. She pushes it in, eyes lulling shut at the feeling of his warm tongue as he sucks on her thumb, hips continuing their movements as he fucks her cunt with quick, rough thrusts.

When she opens her eyes, Harry’s watching her, sweat glistening on his forehead and she brings her finger down to where Harry’s cock meets her warmth and rubs the top of his cock, moaning when she feels the vein there. She brings it up to her clit again, all wet and warm, and she rubs harder with rough strokes as Harry juts his hips forward a few more times. “I’m gonna cum, fuck- I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, baby,” his grip tightens on her waist and she places her hands on his shoulder, squeezing there.

“Come on me, I want it on my tits,” she mutters, fingernails digging into the smooth skin of his shoulders and he lets out a grunt, pulling out quickly as she gets down, Harry’s legs parting immediately so she can get between them.

And she does, gets on her knees between Harry’s parted legs as he takes the condom off, hissing at the feeling as he tosses it somewhere on the floor, and he begins stroking his now-wet cock as she thumbs at her nipples, kneading her boobs before pushing them together. His wrist works harder and quicker at the sight and he finally comes undone, his warm cum spilling onto her boobs, decorating her soft flesh with white stripes and she looks down, watching with sparkling eyes.

“God, fuck,” he breathes, letting his head tilt back, “You’re something else, y’know that?”

She hums, sending him a grin as he gives himself three more lazy strokes before he lets go of his cock and watches the spattered cum against her skin separate with the movement when she lets them go.

“Got some on your top, sorry, love.”

She looks down, then swipes a thumb across her skin and brings it up to her mouth. Pushing it in, she sucks around her digit as she tastes the salty-sour taste and Harry watches, all wrecked and fucked out.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re so naughty...come up here,” his ring-clad fingers reach for her wrist and he helps her sit next to him.

He reaches the little pocket behind one of the seats, taking out some tissues as she watches him take out a few and clean her up as much as he can. Then their eyes meet, both sleepy and wrecked, and he lifts his hand up to her cheek, stroking it, and she leans into the touch, making him smile. “You’re lovely,” he mumbles, hand still on her cheek.

“You’re lovelier.”

He chuckles as she fixes her top, “You really are. Really lovely.”

“Stop it, I’m not good with compliments.”

“Well,” he shrugs, reaching for his trousers on the front seat, “I said what I said. You hungry? Thirsty?”

“I’m kinda thirsty. Aren’t you?”

As they lean against the bonnet of Harry’s car, now parked outside a McDonald’s, there’s a comfortable silence between them as they sip their waters, bodies close to each other, close enough for Harry to smell his faint cologne on her skin.

“You cold still?” He turns to her as she takes a bite of her chocolate muffin, and he follows as a few crumbs land on her chest.

“I’m good. Feel very warm...ed up,” she chuckles, thumbing at the corners of her mouth.

Harry groans, nudging her with his shoulders and she nudges back, harder, and he gasps, “Oi, be nice. I’m feeding you.”

“Soz. Guess I owe you like...what is it, a fiver?”

“You’re a very mean girl.”

“I’m the nicest. I’m good,” she gives him a grin, earning another eye roll from him as she takes another sip of her water before placing it on the floor, “Seriously though, thanks for the muffin.”

“Don’t mention it. I’m kinda bummed you turned down the nuggets but…maybe next time?”

“Next time?” She asks, crossing her arms, trying to warm herself up despite her promise from earlier.

“Well,” he clears his throat, hand going up to his necklace, “I’d love to see you sometime. Again. Preferably for longer than an hour and...you know, just us two? Hanging out?”

She smiles and leans forward, taking him by surprise when she presses their lips together. It’s a sweet, slow kiss, and his hands grab the back of her neck, pressing their faces closer as they kiss. Her hands find his waist and she gets on her feet, coming to stand between his legs without breaking their kiss, and she loops her arms around his neck, smiling when he moans at the feeling of her fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

He tastes the muffin, the chocolate, and himself, and as foolish as it sounds, he wishes there was a way to be closer to her somehow, closer than they already are at this moment. She pulls away, their foreheads pressing together as they smile at each other.

Harry scrunches his nose and smiles, bringing it forward so their noses touch, “What was that for?” He whispers, hands tight around her waist as he hugs her closer.

“Just felt like it...just felt like kissing you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like kissing you. I liked kissing you a lot tonight.”

He smiles, nose booping against hers once again, “I liked kissing you a lot too. I’d like to kiss you a lot tomorrow. And maybe the day after that.”

“That’s fine by me. You can kiss me tomorrow...and the day after that,” she whispers, pressing their bodies together.

Harry closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as she watches with curious gaze, eyes crinkling with a smile.

“What are you doing,” she whispers, and he shushes her, smiling when he opens his eyes to find her staring with her eyebrows raised, “What are you doing?” She asks again and he squeezes her waist, forehead pressing against her once again and he leans in closer to press a tiny kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“I’m listening,” he whispers, lips almost touching hers as he speaks.

“Listening? What are you listening to?”

He strokes her cheek, “A song.”

She raises her eyebrow again, “What song? I can’t hear it. Are you- you’re not actually serious, are you?”

“Ssh, it’s a song. Listen,”

“Har-ry,” she groans, pressing her forehead on the crook of his neck, “What is it?”

Harry smiles, arms hugging her closer as she presses a tiny kiss to the side of his neck, “Aubade.”

SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS ABOUT AUBADE AND PLEASE REBLOG THE FICS YOU’VE READ AND ENJOYED TO SUPPORT AND MOTIVATE WRITERS <3

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superhero--imagines · 4 years

Text

Part 12

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here! / Part 3 Here! / Part 4 Here! / Part 5 Here! / Part 6 Here! / Part 7 Here! / Part 8 Here! / Part 9 Here! / Part 10 Here! / Part 11 Here!

* You stare at the blank ceiling, the smooth unblemished surface like freshly fallen snow

* you should really put some nudie posters up there or something to lighten the mood a little.

* Light notes from the piano float around your room

* You sigh, so these are the facts as you know them:

* Edward is your best friend who has occasional bouts of brooding and flirtatious behavior.

* Bella is not albino, she has a lovely peach undertone, and a lovely grilled peach scent

* The entire coven has treated your attraction to this young lady’s blood like you got caught masturbating or wetting the bed or something

* “You don’t need to be embarrassed it’s a perfectly natural feeling.” Esme tells you while rubbing your shoulders

* “We’ve all been there” Rosalie reassures

* “Totally not a big deal, it happens to me everyday!” Jasper chimes in

* You wish sunlight hurt you so you could combust into flames on the spot

* The piano notes get louder, and you feel your mouth pinch into a frown.

* “Oh my god Edward! Read the room, I want brooding music!”

* Edward stops, up until then he had been playing a pretty cheerful Mozart piece

* You can tell he wants to ask why, you’ve been radiating joy non-stop since biology. But he decides against it

* “You really shouldn’t eat lying down.” He says as you sip blood while lying flat on your bed.

* “Okay dad.” You snort

* Edward starts to imagine what it would be like if you called him ‘daddy’

* All needy on top of him, your hands curled in fists against his chest, the breathy “daddy please” that leaves your mouth

* All of a sudden he’s ugly turned on

* “Ugh you’re no fun, I’m going to hang out with Rosalie”

* You leave the room and Edward has a total meltdown, is this what a kink is? Is he discovering a kink?!? At 100 years of age?!?!?!?

* Edward.exe is broken

* You don’t even make it to Rosalie’s room, you can smell them a mile away

* Broccoli, sugar and fat, and axe body spray. No peaches you realize with a sigh.

* They’ve only just barely rung the door bell when you open the door

* “Hey what are you guys doing here?”

* Jessica’s standing in front, looking pretty at ease, while Mike and Angela look equally uncomfortable.

* Makes sense, Jessica’s here all the time now either for homework or to watch TV.

* Mike and Angela haven’t been back since your sweet sixteen

* “How did you get down here so fast?”

* “I saw your car from upstairs” you say with a sheepish smile.

* You wish Alice would have given you a heads up, you weren’t planning on pretending to be human right now. Still you probably look raggedy enough right now in sweatpants and an oversized sweatshirt

* You can probably pull this sick thing off

* “We just wanted to check up on you, I heard from Mike and Angela you got sick during class.” And then in a more annoyed tone Jessica adds “And I guess you’re too sick to respond to all my texts and calls”

* Oh crap, where is your phone.

* You pat your pockets, and think when you saw it last

* “I left it in my locker” you smack your head. You told Edward to go grab your bag from class but you forgot your phone.

* “Hey don’t worry about it, I can get it for you tomorrow if you want.” Jessica rushes to your side and pats your arm. You shake your head

* “No I can get it myself, I’m fine I just ate something bad.” You mumble.

* You’re not missing school tomorrow. You would literally risk murder to smell Bella again.

* It’s not insatiable thirst like described in the books, more like a craving, like someone might have for nachos.

* It itches at you for a while, but if you just distract yourself long enough you can move on

* “Would you like to come in? I think Esme just baked cookies or scones or something.”

* Esme likes to bake for the smell and donate the food to the local shelter. That, or take it for her employees at her architectural firm in town.

* Firm is a loose word, she has maybe four employees, and they get one job a month, but it seems to make her happy.

* Angela and Mike give each other looks but Jessica perks up

* “Is she making those delicious earl grey scones again?” You sniff the air

* “I think she made some of that orange zest butter too”

* “Omg I am so happy you left your phone at school” Jessica giggles walking inside past you, you hear her greet Esme with a squeal

* “They really are good.” You tell them and your remaining human friends enter the house carefully

* “Soooo where is everyone?” Mike asks taking a look around your living room.

* “Ummm Rosalie’s in the garage, Alice is probably meditating on the roof, Emmett’s at swim practice, and Jasper’s probably at the barn.”

* “What about Edward?” Angela asks before Mike can ask about the barn

* Last you saw him he was playing the piano in your room, but it’s been a while since then

* “He’s probably in his room monologuing about the degradation of the American dream or something.”

* You lead them into the kitchen where Esme and Jessica are already deep in conversation about the wonder of her baking

* “-side is so light and fluffy, how do you get the tea flavor though”

* “Witchcraft.” Esme jokes, giving a full smile before putting another tray in the oven. Only Jessica laughs, the other two are too nervous to even sit down

* “Why don’t I teach you how when you come over next week.”

* Yeah you’re pretty sure Jessica is really only a fan of the “eating” and not of the “baking”

* You’re half surprised when she seems happy at the invitation.

* “Oh that sounds great, I can’t wait for it!” Jessica’s practically beaming

* Where’s Edward when you need him? You wonder what her motivations are.

* Jasper is not going to like this. He’s already irritated enough that he’s kicked out of his own house every Friday when Jessica comes over to watch arrested development

* Before you can say anything to Esme the conversation moves forward

* “Did you guys hear about that security guard that died in Mason county?”

* She’s just making small talk, you know that. But you and Esme instantly tense at the mention

* Carlisle had mentioned he thought there was a nomad wandering through, they were still far enough not to cause the coven immediate trouble, but anything that brought more attention to them was a disadvantage

* “My Dad says he heard from Chief Swan it was probably a wild animal attack” Mike mumbles over a bite of scone, you figured he would be the easiest to win over with food

* You hide a smile behind your hand, he really is like a golden retriever

* “What kind of a wild animal climbs stairs into a building” Jessica mumbles over another bite of scone. And maybe to fit in, or maybe because she’s always been a nervous eater, Angela takes a bite too.

* “Oh wow, these are really good” she murmurs

* Esme Cullen ladies and gentleman, winning the hearts of teenagers with baked goods since 19XX

* “Well you kids stay safe, stay together if you can.” She pats your head and you nod.

* You don’t know the details of the attack, you get the feeling Carlisle still see’s you as a kid and he doesn’t want to burden you.

* But assuming the small changes that have happened have nothing to do with the large changes, that means Laurent, James and Victoria will be passing through soon.

* Maybe it’s for the best Bella doesn’t get involved with Edward until later.

* You’d really like to not get all mixed up in the whole “James Thing” if you can help it.

* “Are you staying for dinner? I’m thinking of whipping up some pasta, maybe a chicken?” Esme looks to you, yeah you have no idea how she’s going to manage that. Besides the baking basics there’s no actually food in this kitchen. And the one upstairs is just for your blood bags.

* “(Y/N), do you think...Carlisle would mind if we used one of... his chickens?”

* His chickens? The only chickens in the house-

* “No Esme! My chickens are only for love and chicken snuggles” and their blood which tastes very leans yet rich. “Not to eat!”

* “It would just be one-we’ll eat your least favorite!”

* You’re really hoping this is her way of chasing the humans out because she doesn’t want to cook.

* “No- oh my god- we’re going to the diner come on!” You say tugging Jessica and Angela to stand.

* “It was great seeing you again Mrs. Cullen, see you next week!” Jessica shouts as the three of them follow you out.

* “Going out? Is that such a good idea it’s late and a school night.” Edward says as he descends down the stairs

* “Oh my god, yes Dad I’ll be home before my curfew.” You say before leaving, cue Edward crumbling onto the stairs as he imagines you calling him “daddy” again

* “I’m going to hell, I’m definitely going to hell.” He mumbles, his face in his hand.

* It’s a really short drive to the diner, also known as the only place to eat in Forks in the mid 2000’s.

*There’s not even a McDonald’s. It’s almost sad

* And when you get there, while everyone moves ahead to the table you see a familiar face.

* “Oh, Hey Bella”

* Your eyes met and you figured it would be rude not to say anything. It looks like she’s here having dinner with her Dad.

*She really does look like her dad, same eyes, same cheekbones.

* “Nice to see you again Chief Swan”

* “Nice to see you too, how’s Carlisle doing? Heard it’s been busy at the hospital.”

* “Yeah, it’s like he doesn’t sleep anymore.” You grin at your own joke.

* “Are you feeling alright now?” Bella asks, she looks genuinely concerned

* “Yeah, I um, made some questionable food choices at lunch.”

* There’s an awkward moment of silence. You get the impression that Chief Swan and his daughter are both the “strong silent” types.

* It looks like they’ve both finished eating already

* If you had known she was going to be here you would have made Edward come with you.

* “Oh hey, do you want to join us for dinner?” It just seems like the friendly thing to do for the new girl, something on-brand with human character

* Definitely not because if you get on her good side now, maybe she won’t kick you out once her and Edward get married.

*Father and daughter exchange a glance and the familiar connection they have makes you nervous.

*“Of course you don’t have to, I know you’re here with your dad so-“

* “I’m sure Bella would love to join-“ Charlie says at the same time Bella says:

* “Wouldn’t it be kind of weird since I already ate.”

* Ah, so they’re not as in sync as you thought.

* You give your best “Golden Girl - You can totally trust me with your daughter” smile.

* “I’m actually not eating either,” you place a hand over your stomach like a human might. “The uh, Clam Linguine is still haunting me, so I’m sticking to broth and sprite.”

* Why did you say Clam? You don’t even eat meat, it’s how you’ve been getting away with eating so little at lunch.

* “not a lot of vegetarian choices” You say to your human friends who nod solemnly.

* Father and Daughter exchange another look likening telepathic communication and they both move to stand

* “I’m going to finish up some paperwork at the precinct, don’t stay out to late.” Charlie says, leaning down to kiss his daughter on the forehead

* You watch with warm eyes and a small smile twitching onto your lips

* Bella is so loved.

* You can’t believe she’s willing to break her dad’s heart just so she can be 19 forever.

* Which, as you are 19 forever, you can fairly say is overrated

* “Hey guys Bella’s joining us.”

* Your female friends offer her a polite smile, you see Angela gaze flick from the menu to Bella’s face. Silently calculating the worth of this opportunity

* Any intel on this new girl would be pretty valuable

* Same old Angela

* Mike sits up straight so fast that he actually knocks his silverware off the table.

* “H-hey Bella, Hi, w-what, what are you doing here?”

* “Eating.” Bella says it so bluntly that you can’t help but laugh.

* Mike flushes bright red and Jessica and Angela exchange a look before giggling.

* “I thought it would be cool if she came over since I didn’t get to talk to her much.” You take a seat next to Jessica and Bella follows by taking the last seat between you and Mike.

* You still catch whiffs of her scent her and there, especially when she’s sitting so close to you.

* But it’s not so bad, the peachy smell is making you a little lightheaded, but you can handle it.

* At least you’re not fantascizing about killing her and everyone in this room like a certain dork you know.

* “Do you guys want to do that promotion where we get the basket of fries for the table?” Jessica asks

* “I don’t like sharing fries with Mike he eats them all.” Angela mumbles

* Yeah you remember last time when after a football game the three of them actually sat down and divided the plate in three equal portions

* They even measured out each fry dividing up the extra long ones

* “Says the person who basically eats ketchup with a spoon.” Mike retorts and Angela scoffs

* “It’s America’s best condiment for a reason Mike.” Angela snaps back

* “I think we’re getting off track, I say Mike buys us all french fries to make up for all the times he hogged the joint basket” Jessica’s teasing but Mike takes it seriously

* “What so I’m a French fry monster now?”

* “Yes” Both Angela and Jessica respond in unison without looking up from their menu cards

* “What do you think Bella?” You’re surprised that Jessica’s the one asking. You get the feeling she’s not very happy about Mike’s crush on Bella.

* “I think Mike should buy everyone their own basket since he has such a bad history with sharing.”

* “You traitor!” Mike mocks hurt and you all laugh.

* You look at Bella through the corner of your eye, maybe it’s just the lighting but she looks pinker when she’s laughing.

* She looks happy as she starts contributing to the conversation.

* “I will say the pie here is really good, I wouldn’t share even if someone paid me to.”

* “Omg yes, the cheery icebox pie is out of this world” Jessica responds

* “I’m partial to chess pie” Mike pipes in and Angela laughs

* “You guys are crazy, the fruit custard they make is the best”

* You grin as your four new friends argue about the superior dessert, watching Bella laugh beside you.

* Welcome to team human Bella

Tags: @moonlights27 @thebluetint @the100thtwilight @awesomebooklover17 @oneofthepotterheads @smileygirl08 @imdoingathingmom @iconicgguk @yrawn @alyciaswhore @little-horror-show @wicked-watering-can @lazydreamers @xxxmuxxx @puritanicalhypocrite

#twilight #twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight headcanon #twilight reader insert #edward cullen imagine #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward and bella #bella swan x reader #Bella x reader #bella swan #Jessica Stanley x reader #mike newton #angela weber #midnight sun #superhero--imagines

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chronicallylatetotheparty · 3 years

Text

Grand Premier

Summary: Barely in Paris and Kagami is already expected to rub elbows with the local elites. Specifically, one Adrien Agreste. At least he dresses better than his father.

---------------------

Kagami didn't want to be here.

"This is an important deal for our company's expansion into France, Kagami," Tomoe Tsurugi reminded her in Japanese. "Be polite with Adrien Agreste."

"Yes, Mother." Kagami would play her role to perfection. Even if it was at the premier of a mediocre movie.

"And if the young Agreste isn't polite I hear he fences at the same school we're enrolling you in."

Kagami didn't smile. No, not at all. And if she did there were no witnesses. "Yes, Mother."

Keeping her usual stoic expression as the parasites, pardon, the paparazzi used flash photography in her face Kagami walked down the red carpet. Arm extended for her Mother.

Gabriel was just as tedious as she imagined him and wearing the ugliest suit Kagami had ever seen. And she'd seen ugly yakuza suits in person. At least Adrien's all black suit was suitable for a family in the fashion industry.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Tsurugi Kagami," the blond boy greeted in heavily accented Japanese. A polite smile on his face as he bowed slightly. "Welcome to Paris. My name is Adorian Aguresuto."

Kagami raised an eyebrow. That didn't sound right.

Eyes widening as he realized his slip up and- Wow, those were expressive eyebrows. -hand going to rub the back of his head as a faint blush painted his cheeks. "I mean Aguresuto Adorian! I, yup..." Suddenly self-conscious Adrien jerked his hand down. Smile nervous but more honest.

Kagami decided to have mercy on him. "Your inflection needs work but the pronunciation is adequate."

His lips twitched. "Adequate?"

"Yes. That is the most accurate description," Kagami stated matter-of-factly.

"Well, then I guess I better ade-quit while I'm ahead," Adrien joked, switching to French.

She could pinpoint the second Adrien noticed what his mouth had said (seemingly without permission) by the way his rosy cheeks went into full bloom. Kagami was fairly certain she was interpreting that expression correctly. "I see why you learned, Japanese."

Apparently deciding her impression of him was already ruined, Adrien forged ahead. "Anime has some impressive puns. I couldn't resist."

Kagami's perfect posture straightened ever so slightly. "Oh? What kind of anime are you interested in?"

Adrien began listing several shonen. Which, honestly, Kagami should have seen coming. At least it included One Piece. Kagami resisted the urge to proclaim the merits of the completely arbitrary power ranking system unprompted. It just fit the story so well and- No! Focus! What was he saying?

"...but right now I'm reading Fruits Basket."

Ooh! Kagami's self control slipped just a little bit. Her eyes might've lit up even. "Yuki is my favorite character."

Adrien beamed at her. "He's amazing! Torhu's my favorite!"

Kagami glanced at a large poster of the movie. Chat Noir displayed prominently with Ladybug. Oh, right. That was a thing. "I would've thought it'd be Kyo"

"Not all catboys are created equal, Kagami," Adrien stated solemnly before breaking into a grin. "He's my second favorite. I just really like Torhu 'cause she's so kind and selfless and..." Adrien paused. Looking down as he fiddled with a silver ring on his finger. "And she's so brave. After losing her mom like that. I really admire her."

Kagami felt she was missing something. She usually felt that with strangers but it was on the tip of her tongue.

Before Kagami could pinpoint why Adrien's appreciation for Honda Tohru felt the way it did Adrien snapped out of whatever he was in. "Anyway, what about you?"

"I relate a lot to Saiki Kusuo. He has trouble understanding people despite being telepathic." Was that too much? It felt like too much.

Apparently not 'cause Adrien's smile was back. The honest one, not the polite one. "Yeah, it's hard to understand people when they don't say what they mean."

Oh, thank you! "What's worse is when they say things they don't mean. It's very confusing."

"Right!? It'd be so much simpler!"

"..." Kagami was supposed to respond here. She was positive that it was expected. But she didn't have anything she felt like adding at the moment. "... So have you read Fullmetal Alchemist?"

Kagami was positive Adrien was restraining himself from vibrating in excitement. She could tell because his eyes were huge and his grin unrestrained. His enthusiasm making her lips form their own smile. Kagami had never met someone her own age she could tolerate, let alone geek out about the differences between anime and manga adaptations.

Most of the other rich kids Kagami knew acted like that ponytailed girl who thought Kagami couldn't see her glaring from across the room. But she wasn't important.

... Actually, there was something Kagami wanted to know. "I hear you fence."

Suddenly shy again Adrien's hand went back to rubbing his neck. "Uh, yeah. Not to brag but I'm the best fencer on the team."

"Not for long."

"Huh?"

"I'll be coming for that top spot, Adrien," Kagami promised.

Adrien's eyes widened, then a competitive gleam sparked in his eyes. "Looking forward to it," he smirked.

In the end the movie was just as mediocre as Kagami thought it would be. Enjoyable sure, if you ignored all the cliches.

"It's even worse on screen!" Adrien proclaimed cheerfully.

Kagami eyed him as they filed out of the theater. "Aren't you the male lead?"

"Against my protests!" He grinned.

"A pleasure doing business with you Madame Tsurugi," Gabriel Agreste's grating voice said from his assistant's tablet. Kagami amused herself by imagining Gabriel was actually that small in person. "Come along now, Adrien."

"Yes, Father." The open expression was gone. Adrien's demeanor immediately subduing at Gabriel's call. Turning towards her, Adrien gave her a small smile- "I look forward to seeing you at school." -and winked with his whole head.

Kagami's cheeks heated up slightly as she returned his smile. "I won't go easy on you."

Adrien frowned. "Well, of course not. That would defeat the entire purpose of dueling."

Kagami's smile grew wider. "Yes. Yes, it would."

She stared at the passing city through the window as they made their way to their new home. Committing the unfamiliar skyline to memory.

"And how was the young Agreste, Kagami?" Tomoe asked. "Was your interaction fruitful?"

Kagami thought about Adrien's predilection for certain manga tropes, how he'd blundered effortlessly past her walls, the clear eagerness Adrien felt at talking to someone else who gets it. He was... endearing. And Kagami wouldn't mind his company again.

"Yes, Mother." Yes, it was.

----------------------

Notes: Written for the Alternate First Meeting promt of Adrigami Week 2021.

#adrien x kagami #adrigamiweek2021 #adrigami #adrimi #ml oneshot #ml ficlet #kagami tsurugi #adrien agreste #animaestro #ml #miraculous ladybug

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lolabangtan · 4 years

Text

Biting dogs seldom bark | jjk

You and your junior Jungkook decide to go to his room when you see the library is full. In the face of silence and concentration, one of your childhood habits comes back to haunt you, to Jungkook’s delicious dispair.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: is indulging a whiny virgin kookie considered something worth warning for? anyways, virgin boys are fun to play with when they submit and you encourage them to leave behind toxic gendered expectations. support your local virgins and stay at home if you can.

# biting kink, subby virgin!jungkook, college AU, dom!reader, soft femdom, Y/N eating some ass and licking some balls, a little bit of cum play, too, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, unprotected vaginal sex, the word noona appears a dozen times, Y/N is basically JK’s hot noona and he’s been dreaming of her fucking him for all eternity.

This is both inspired by Run BTS ep 30 where JK moaned a little when Jin bit his shoulder and the realization that some people do bite their friends according to a classmate I used to have in high school.

Well, we all miss jungkook. this is in his honour, although i hope he does never read it.

“Are you sure you don’t want my freshman notes?”

“There’s no need, noona. Thank you.”

Jungkook was tired. You could see it in the way he dragged his voice, the way he moved and picked up papers and opened his laptop—even the way he blinked, squeezing his eyes over and over again.

“Tell me if you change your mind,” you finally said, “I never got to sell them and they’re rotting in a folder on my computer anyways.”

Jungkook put away his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “I can—I can do it. I just need some more time to do the research. Professor Choi’s presentations aren’t really useful… He said he’d share all the notes but there are only conceptual frameworks.”

As he was facing his first mid-term exams and you had to study to get into an internship in Tokyo for your senior year, you had tried to go first to the library closest to your residence, which, although it had a horrible Wi-Fi connection, was not usually very crowded.

You guys were so delusional! When you arrived, you thought about whether there were really so many people studying at your school. There was not a single chair, not a single bench, hardly any room on the floor free to sit and be productive.

Pressing your lips, you stared at him for a moment, silently, as you always did.

Jungkook and you knew each other from high school after he arrived from Busan right after you started eleventh grade. He was the new kid, handsome, quite cute, only fifteen years old, and your friends loved to welcome kids like that, so there was no way you could stop them from taking the poor boy as their protégé. Since he had turned out to be a really nice boy, all shyness and naivety, how could you not take him under your wing, too?

Even if many people said you were the cool type: silent, thoughtful, taking care of your friends from the shadows. And they were right—biting dogs seldom barked.

He relied on you as he relied on no one else. You were his noona, his older sister, his strong, confident friend on whom he could always count. And you loved it because you had always thought that Jungkook was your baby.

However, you had this small, slight, insignificant habit that you should get rid of one day, and which changed things a little bit.

Since childhood, you tended to bite people. It was nothing hard, not biting them in their necks and bleeding them to death. You never hurt them, and they weren’t even proper bites. Your mother once told that it was because of some pain in your teeth you had had when you were five, and you just had gotten used to it.

But you would never bite strangers—ugh, not at all. It was just a habit you started to do when you felt comfortable enough with someone, so you simply tended to bite your friends’ shoulders, or their wrists, or anywhere that was munchy and squishy.

You were about to graduate from high school the first time you bit Jungkook.

The loyal, hardworking kid he was, he had accepted to invite you to his place after school for the first time. His parents already knew you and they were really happy that he had a noona to help him (his mother was apparently a little bit older than his father, too), so they did nothing to stop him from taking a grown-up, hot girl upstairs to his room.

You were expecting something completely different when Jungkook turned his doorknob.

Being sixteen years old, you expected to find a deep smell of corn, a mess of T-shirts reeking of deodorant and sweat, bags of Doritos lying on the floor, posters of anime girls in microscopic bikinis. But the reality was simply a moderately tidy room, although it was populated by little Japanese cartoon figures, a huge computer with a microphone and a closet full of immaculate white tees.

“Are you okay, noona? You seem… shocked.”

His question made you chuckle. “I just expected something different…”

“I didn’t really have time to clean up this morning,” he said, “I didn’t know you’d ask to come over. Fuck, I even forgot to make the bed…” He hurried over to his bedside table and picked up a white round cylinder to throw into the bottom of the drawer. “Yeah, let me just pull out the sheets a little bit and we can… We can do it here. Studying.”

“I mean that I expected something worse, Kookie. You’re a really clean boy.”

Kookie, he loved hearing you say that. It made your lips pout and then it made you smile. The tenderness, the care, the cooing. He adored hearing you say it.

You both sat down on the bed, since the table had been invaded by the giant computer, and you took out your books to start studying. Silently, you bit the tip of your pen while he stared at you, and eventually, you noticed his eyes burning your lips.

“Sorry, is it yours? You know, I have this awful habit of biting,” you added.

“Don’t worry,” said Jungkook, “you can keep it. I have more. As long as you bite… things and not people,” he added with a mysterious smile.

You couldn’t hold the laugh. “Actually, I do bite people. But only those I feel close to. I don’t bite just anyone, you know. Half my friends have had enough of me, though.”

Jungkook frowned slowly, thinking that it made him less than a friend to you. Not even that. He could not even be the pathetic friend who was in love with you, it seemed. He was just the new kid you spoke to out of pity last year.

“Are you okay? You look worried.”

“Mm, yeah. I just feel sorry for all of your friends,” he muttered, grabbing the first book he saw and opening it by a random page.

“You’re my friend, too, you know that, don’t you, Kookie?” You pressed your lips when he kept silent and looked down at his wrist. He had such pretty hands, you thought. Maybe you had just been containing yourself since you knew all your friends except him since kindergarten. “See?”

Then you grabbed his wrist, smiling, and gently sunk your teeth into his soft golden flesh.

Jungkook whimpered as he pulled his arm away from you. “N-noona!”

It hadn’t been a whimper of pain. At all. You had had your fair share of physical contact with other people and you knew there was no pain behind his cute noises. The mere thought made you rub your thighs together, but you didn’t lose your shit and bit his wrist again, chuckling.

“Ah, noona, stop…” he moaned. His eyes shone with a weird glow. “Let’s… Let’s focus back on the study, please.”

How uncomfortable he seemed to be made suddenly you feel incredibly bad. You, his trusty noona, his reliable older sister, had been turned on by his voice, by his groans, when Jungkook was clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

“Sorry.”

“I… Gotta go to the restroom for a second,” he muttered, rushing to get off the bed without even facing you. You nodded to his back. “I’ll be right back.”

But Jungkook took his time to return and, by the time he was back, his bangs a little wet, you had already finished with your homework and felt the urgent need to get away from his room—everything, from the sheets to simply the air lingering around, smelled like him, and it just fuelled the fire inside your guts.

That had been the first and last time you bit Jungkook, and not because you didn’t want to. On the contrary, it was incredibly hard to resist your impulses.

Back on that awful pre-exam day, with all the faculty libraries fully stocked and the dorm’s Wi-Fi getting weaker and weaker, you and Jungkook had plunged back into a bubble of concentration, though yours barely lasted a few minutes.

Once you looked away from your laptop, you turned to Jungkook, who, on his back, was working on his paper for Mr Choi. You could see his thick neck swallowing saliva from time to time, his eyes fixed on the screen with a small blue light alloy. Oh, this boy was so bad for your health, how had you even hold yourself for all those years? You had suddenly forgotten.

The repetitive sound of the computer keys, along with how little your last americano had woken up your brain, ended up bewitching you, and you slid into a relaxation bubble, absorbed by the way the words appeared on the screen at the same time his fingers typed.

You turned in his direction, sneaking one of your legs next to him, and barely noticed how he tensed up in front of you.

His T-shirt had a loose collar, which fell a little lower than his collarbone, and you ended up resting your chin on his shoulder to watch him write his soporific work in more detail.

However, attracted by his warmth, by his earthy scent that resembled the smell of winter sunshine, you slipped your nose into the skin of his shoulder and did not notice how your teeth gently dug into his tender flesh.

Jungkook’s chest reverberated with a soft moan covered by his mellow voice. Without realizing it, he had lowered his hand to your thigh during your lazy embrace and squeezed it the moment you bit into his shoulder. He threw his head back slightly and closed his eyes as his fingers dug into your thigh.

Fascinated by his reaction, you stuck your teeth into his neck again, this time dragging them a little before you pulled your head away from him. A shiny bite mark decorated beautifully his golden skin.

“F-fuck, noona, you can’t just…!” he whined.

That was quite a similar situation to that school day, but there was something about the way Jungkook whined, about the way he bit his lip, about the way he had thrust his hips—almost imperceptibly—about the way his fingers sank into the flesh of your thighs, that told you that no, that situation was very different.

Jungkook tried to laugh the whole situation off and reached out his hand, which had moved away from your thigh as if it were burning his palm, to grab a pillow and place it on his lap.

Fuck it all, I guess.

With remarkable physical exertion, you propelled yourself onto the leg that was prey to Jungkook’s hand and lay on his lap, landing your ass on the pillow that absurdly hid his erection. The friction made him hiss as the small bites throbbed on his skin.

Then you finally kissed him, grabbing the loose neck of his tee and sinking your face on his, fed up with all that nonsense you had been telling yourself of Jungkook hating your bites.

You deepened the kiss and stroked his lower lip with your tongue, warning him. Then, when he gasped again, you snuck your tongue in his mouth and finally began to devour him with all the passion you both had inside.

He was the first to speak as soon as you parted your faces, his neck reddened by the craving of passion, and he looked into your eyes. “For… for real? Is this really happening? I’m not dreaming again?” You could just laugh at his words. “I’m serious! Fuck, I’m so hard already, noona…!”

“That’s my Kookie, all hard and ready for me.”

You kissed him again, biting his earlobe first and dragging the soft skin with your teeth as you pushed him against the bedding of his messy bed. It smelled like him too, but why would you care about that when you had your golden honey boy in your arms, whining and moaning as you completely devoured him?

Jungkook coughed a little when he tried to speak, choking on all the saliva that was pooling in his mouth. “W-wait, noona… How far do you wanna go?”

“As far as you’ll let me,” you answered without looking at him, still absorbed by the way your teeth were digging into the other side of his warm neck. “Why are you asking? You don’t have any condoms and you don’t know if you’re clean?” You finally looked at him.

“That’s not it… I’m pretty sure I am…”

That made you smile. “That’s good—I’m on the pill and I’d hate not having you cum inside.”

You weren’t making it easy for him to confess that he had never had sex with another person, or that no one had ever jerked him off or given him a blow job. Listening to you talk so naturally about the way you would fuck him into madness made the hair on his nape stand on end in a mixture of erotic euphoria and the most outrageous fear of ruining everything.

“I’m a virgin!” he finally spurted out.

“What?” you asked, shocked. Then you rose from his chest to take a better look at his face. “How so? I can’t believe you’ve never had the chance to get laid. You had half the class whipped for you back in high school.”

Jungkook swallowed hard. “Well, everybody thought I was your boyfriend, and they kinda respected it… And I didn’t really meet new people outside school.”

You felt so bad for the poor thing, not having been able to enjoy sex during his teenage years because of you and your stupid, cool reputation. And you hadn’t even been fucking him.

“But I didn’t mind, noona, really… I liked that they thought so.”

“You don’t hate me? Why did you never tell me about it?” you insisted, “I can’t possibly be okay with this, Jungkook. I’m sure you would’ve liked to experiment in high school. This is ridiculous.”

Jungkook closed his eyes and ground his hips against yours. Suddenly his face looked no longer angelical and shy, but desperate, raw, needy. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed, watering, with pure lust.

“Noona, if you knew the things I’ve done behind your back. If you knew how many times I’ve touched myself at night thinking about what it would feel like having you bite me all over my body, you really wouldn’t be okay with it… I hated seeing you do it to your friends, they couldn’t enjoy it as I would have…! And when it finally happened the first thing I did was getting hard, like the horny virgin I am. So disgusting.”

You chuckled. “Should I leave you alone? You seem to be enjoying yourself a lot, Jungkook.”

“Call me Kookie,” he begged, “I’m Kookie. To you, I’m Kookie, noona, please.”

“Okay, Kookie.” And there was that pout on your lips again and the smile that preceded it when you called it that. “You asked me before how far I was willing to go, and I said as far as you would go. How far is that? What do you want us to do?”

His dick twitched the second you spoke. “Everything. Anything—I’m okay with anything you wanna do to me, noona, I’m so fucking okay with it… You left me so alone when you graduated, noona, and you’re going to Tokyo next year. You’ll forget about me. I want you to be my first, I wanna have marks from you all over my body, I wanna remember you—but I don’t want you to forget about me,” he suddenly whined, “I don’t want you to go.”

You let out a groan of compassion from your throat and took his face in your hands. Still lying on his bed, you kissed him again, deeply, trying to imbue the kiss with all the love you felt.

“I’ll only be away for a year. Then I’ll come back and stay in Seoul,” you said, caressing his cheeks.

“Will you be with me?”

“I will be with you. Now.” The expression on your face changed completely as an avid sly smile stretched your lips, and your hand went down under his shirt. “You haven’t answered me. What do you want right now? You’ve never been touched before by anything that isn’t your hand, Kook. I should compensate you.”

It was too soon, and you were too turned on to just sit on his lap and ride him, and if you sucked him off he wouldn’t last longer than a minute, and it’d also ruin is self-esteem, so perhaps it was better to start with the basics.

The sound the fly made as you carefully lowered it with your hand gave him a chill that went down his spine and ended up making his dick throb inside his underwear.

You were greeted by his tip, slippery and red and glossy, which peeked through the edge of his underwear. The contact with the cold air in the room made him shiver and pant, caged under your arms.

“God, Kookie, you don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

“Tell me,” he panted, “Tell me… what you wanna do to me.” Jungkook couldn’t hold back a whimper when your thumb circled his sensitive red tip. “Ah, please, noona!”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you said as you pumped his shaft, making him shiver under your body. “You know, Kookie, I thought it’s too soon to just ride you until you’re on the verge of tears, begging me to let you cum inside my tight pussy, but if I give it a second thought… That’s fucking turning me on.”

“Yes, noona, ride me, please.”

You finally got rid of your sweatpants under Jungkook’s hungry, eager gaze and, before taking off your underwear too, you took his hand and made him caress your clothed cunt.

“I’m soaking wet, see, Kookie? Imagine what it’ll be like under my panties. Imagine what it’ll be like inside me.”

“So hot and damp. I’m sure your pussy is so tight, noona, so wet,” he moaned, thrusting his hips into the empty air. “I won’t last inside you if you’re like this, noona. Fuck, I won’t last a second.”

His voice had taken on a hint of worry, so you took his face in your hands and bit his cheek gently, gently, as you sat on his lap. “That doesn’t matter to me. In fact, I like it—I’m dying to see your orgasm face, so I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you won’t even be able to think about it.”

Jungkook didn’t really know how to reply to that, so he simply moaned when you took off your panties.

“I can feel how hot your pussy is…”

“And now you’re going to feel it even more, Kookie,” you laughed. Slowly, he got inside of you. Feeling the way his dick slowly stretched you out as you sank down on him, perfect girth and perfect length, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment. His breath had become heavy and shaky, his eyes tightly closed, and you could feel him shaking underneath you. “Breathe, baby. Don’t be so tense.”

Then the poor boy coughed again, choking on his own spit. “I’m just… trying not… to cum, noona, but you’re so tight and hot and wet and it feels really, really good…!”

“Should we go deeper?”

He nodded after a few seconds, still not opening his eyes. What a shame, you thought, not having the visuals of the first time his virgin cock was buried in your hot, wet cunt. But then he bottomed out, and it made him open his eyes with a moan that made you clench around him.

“I’m close,” he panted again.

You didn’t respond, but simply lowered your hand to your clit and massaged it at the perfect rhythm as you dug your teeth into his neck, pushing your hips against his.

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” you managed to say, claiming his neck with your lips as your teeth gently bit on the soft golden flesh. “Are you gonna come inside noona, fill up her pussy? C’mon Kookie, I know you can. Let me see your cute face.”

Looking up at you, tilting his head to the side, Jungkook twitched inside of you and pouted as if he was about to burst out in tears. The poor boy was overwhelmed. So, you bent over him and kissed his lips, whispering against them that you were eager to see him come, to see him moan louder and gasp and sob.

Jungkook whimpered into your mouth, as you were still kissing him. “Yes, yes, noona, yes, I-I’m gonna-shit, please, noona, I’m so close!”

“Fuck, Kookie, you feel so good,” you moaned, caressing the hair of his nape, “Come for noona, let her see how you fill her up.” Then you bit him in the neck and sucked on the reddish mark your teeth had left on his honey skin.

That was the last straw for Jungkook, and let out a breathy whimper as you felt him rubbing his feet against the bedding, shivering underneath your body, overwhelmed by the intensity of his orgasm. The poor boy was on the verge of tears, and you were loving it, the feeling of his cum filling you up, even if you knew you weren’t going to make it despite being so close.

Then, with a jolt, you realised he had started bleeding from the nose, the glossy blood seeping through his parted lips.

“Fuck, Kookie, you’re bleeding!” you breathed, rushing to putting a strand of his fringe behind his ear, “It’s normal to bleed in your first time, babe, don’t worry… I’ll get you something to wipe it off. Anyways, the air in your room is so dry, you should get a humidifier…”

Jungkook nodded. He had started to come down from his high, but you were still sitting on him, dick buried deep in you, so the boy gasped when you moved your hips to fetch him a tissue.

You smirked. “Sensitive, are we? Are you going to help noona come?” you said then, heeling, leaning back and forth as Jungkook shut his eyes tight and grabbed your hips so you’d stop moving. However, he did not. In fact, his hands helped your sharp movements, lifting you until you only had his tip inside and sinking you down on him again, making him bottom out. “Do you like it, Kookie? Do you like it when I fuck your spent cock? Are you going to cum for me again?”

You couldn’t help it—your baby Koo was coming again with his cum-covered dick buried deep inside your cunt, heels rubbing against the blankets because it was too much. Yeah, you couldn’t help the knot unravelling inside your belly, making you clench around him.

Enjoying the last remains of your orgasm, both riding Kookie and rubbing your clit until it was too sensitive, you leaned with both hands on his sweaty chest with a smile of utter satisfaction.

“I know you said you were a virgin, Kookie, but tell me, have you ever watched porn? Don’t lie to me.” He nodded, barely able to open his eyes, frowning from all the overwhelming pleasure he had just begun to get down from. “I bet you love to watch girls being stuffed up with a man’s cum. Don’t you, Kook? Ever wondered what does it feel like? Having someone’s warm cum filling up your pretty little hole.”

You slid the tip of your finger up and down your labia, collecting his cum mixed with yours, and rubbed it against his ass hole, creaming its rim, your finger ghostly hovering over it.

“I-it feels good,” said Jungkook, “And nasty.”

You kept covering the skin of his butthole with his own load, taking your time to cover it so it wouldn’t fall down easily. “It’s really nasty, Kookie, you’re right. Better clean up the mess, don’t you think?”

Then you slowly went down his chest until you found yourself in front of his balls. The last thing he saw before you dived between his legs was a sly smirk, and then everything went white when your tongue found his sweet spot after digging for a few seconds. The pleasure of feeling your tongue licking parts of his body that he had not even thought of touching clouded his vision, and suddenly his world was only your tongue and his trembling body.

“Fuck! Noona, shit, shit…!”

Jungkook arched his back, stunned to feel his cock slowly hardening again despite having come just a few minutes ago.

You decided to give him a break by moving your lips away from him.

“Is it too much, Kookie?” He nodded without hesitation. “But here I thought I should compensate you for all those amazing orgasms you could have had if I hadn’t been in your way. You’ve never complained about me taking care of you, though.”

Then you kissed his balls and licked the thick vein crossing his dick to the tip before engulfing with your mouth all that fit in. You could feel it twitching over your tongue.

“Mm-please noona! I’m going to cum if- Ah, ah!” Jungkook’s eyes were watering already.

Smiling and bobbing your head up and down. You were ruining him—you knew it, this probably wasn’t the way he’d pictured his first time to be like—but he was loving it. Every moan, every gasp, every wet sob that shivered throughout his throat. Every unintentional jerky jolt of his hips that made him look down to you with the most blatant fear of having messed up, until you reassured him with a long kick up to the flushed tip of his dick to let him know that everything was okay.

“Mhf, please, noona, ple-please, I can’t, I-I…! I’m gonna come…!” The mere thought of the next words coming out of his lips could bring him to the verge of orgasm. “In your mouth, noona, I’m gonna cum… mouth! Shit, shit, please, let me!”

You took your lips off his shaft for a second. “Do you?” you purred then, licking on his tip with short strokes of your tongue. Your fingers slid into his already prepped hole and you rubbed your finger pads against his prostate until you set the perfect pace. “Come for your noona, c’mon, baby, Kookie, cum for me,” you breathed against his slit.

Jungkook barely gave you any time to swallow his dick again, so you almost missed his cum shot. The warm liquid went down your throat and you kissed his tip with wet lips, enjoying the way he twitched against your tongue.

“Stop, stop, please,” he begged you, pressing his things together beneath you, “I can’t, don’t…”

“It’s okay, Kookie,” you muttered before kissing his inner thigh.

His arms welcomed you with a mix of sweat and mellow, fluttery eyes, rushing to embrace you as if not having you against his chest was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. You smile, turning over to have him against your chest, and kissed his forehead after you covered both of you with his comfy blanket.

Jungkook smooched your earlobe, still breathing heavily. “I’m going to miss you so much, noona.”

“I’m going to miss you too, baby. Noona’s gonna feel so lonely without you…”

“No, you won’t,” he scoffed. It was hard not to notice the harsh pain in his voice.

You turned around to face him, and Jungkook moved over the bed with a frown, too fond of his previous position over your soft breasts.

“You’re gonna leave, noona, I get it. You’re gonna find a boyfriend in Tokyo, and you’ll forget about me. I know. But it’s okay, noona, I swear—I still have this moment to keep with me forever, and I-” You stopped him the second you saw an anguished tear rolling down his cheek. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be crying. Was it your fault? “Sorry, I-”

“I’m not gonna leave, Kookie. I’m not gonna leave you, either. And one day I’ll be the one to see you off at the airport before you take an aeroplane to, I don’t know, the States, and I’ll miss you so much, baby, as much as I’ll miss you next year.”

He finally dared to look at you through his wet eyelashes. “You’re gonna miss me?”

“Every single second,” you muttered against his lips before kissing him, too engrossed in the earthy warmth oozing from his skin to notice drowsiness taking its toll on both of you. “I’m going to miss you every second I’m away from you, Jeon Jungkook.” And, being buried in each other’s arms, you decided to follow him and closed your eyes, leaving any worry behind.

A few minutes later, Park Jimin, Jungkook’s roommate, came into the room along with his friend Kim Taehyung and they watched them silently until the first one whispered, looking at his also shocked friend:

“I told you! You owe me twenty thousand won!”

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