#if y’all think I’m not gonna draw all this and leave y’all in the dark

[animationismycomfort]

sooooo…..if I made three well known families in the sims 4 get together through the parents would y’all be mad

[kithtaehyung]

drabble: you’re next (3tan) (m) | myg

drabble: you’re next | part one pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f) series: three tangerines | fall drabbles masterlist | submit! rating/genre: m (18+) ; fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: after you get the texts from yoongi, you continue to keep goading him. little do you know that he’s still at the festival. because your brother is the only one that left. note: so… this is part 2 to the first fall drabble apple bobbing bc of this post. y’all are spoiled af what am i gonna do with you all lolll note 2: if you haven’t read the three tangerines series yet, i highly encourage you to! the side characters would make a lot more sense :D also this is unedited LOL warnings: language, dirty talk, fingering, tae is best boy, oral (f rec), haunted house, yoongi on the phone lol i’m sorry, spanking, edging, yoongi is rude?? drop date: october 13th, 2022, 9:07pm est word count: 4.5k lolll

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Yoongi [8:20pm]: You’re next :))

Shaken, you stash your phone, a large hand clapping on your shoulder the second thing that makes you yelp.

Tae’s concern is ruined by a giggle, “You okay? This room’s empty.”

“Says you,” you scoff, “Y’all just went too fast.”

He looks around, taking in the boarded up walls and funhouse mirrors shrouded in dark cloth. More random roars and screams echo throughout the building, but neither of you are deterred.

“Well. Unlike you, I’m not scared of my reflection.”

Ass! Feigning a pout, you charge ahead of his laughs, “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go.”

“What did he send you?”

“Huh?”

Taehyung easily catches up to your still form with confident strides, pointing at your bag. “I saw that,” he reveals through a smirk. “No way it could’ve been anyone else.”

Damn it.

The group behind you sounds close, so you and Tae make your way through a hallway of webs while you admit,

“He sent a fucking photo.”

“Of himself?”

“Yeah.”

Taehyung brushes a dangling cobweb as he has to crouch, voice is so deep that you have to lean in to hear, “That’s actually shocking.”

“I know!” you exclaim in a whisper. “That’s why I’m slightly freaked out.”

“Did he say anything else?”

“He—Fuck!”

The puff of air that shoots right into your side makes you collide into your friend, and he catches you with strong arms while blowing out amusement.

“Shut up.”

“I’ve never seen you this jumpy!” He lets out another laugh as you leave the air-filled corridor and enter another dark room. “It’s so cute.”

“I just. He just.” You sigh, fishing out your phone to show him the thread because you can’t bring yourself to repeat it out loud.

And as soon as Taehyung sees both the picture and the text, his face releases a whole flurry of butterflies across your chest.

“That’s the scariest thing I’ve seen all day.”

“See? What the fuck.”

“You’re in more trouble than I thought.”

You groan, pocketing your phone and hearing Yuri’s scream a few rooms away, the telltale giggles following right after.

Dom also cusses so loud that both you and Taehyung burst into laughter yourselves.

Maybe Yoongi’s texts showed up on their phones, too. Since that’s the only frightening thing you can think of right now.

“What’re you gonna say?”

“Absolutely nothing,” you claim, eyes darting to the hisses and squawks around the glowing area. There’s no way you can respond right now, especially since he’s walking around with your brother.

“Why not?”

“You know exactly why!”

“Damn,” Taehyung comments, drawing out the syllable to try and guilt you. “He eyefucks you and you leave him hanging…”

“Tae!”

“I’m sorry, did we look at the same picture? He even—”

You launch yourself in an attempt to cover his mouth, but he easily swats your arms away.

“He”—a muffled giggle—“Even gave you tongue—”

Your groan is more like a cry this time as you shut your eyes in defeat, the picture already burned so hard into your vision that you still see it.

Because fucking hell, Yoongi knows what he did.

Footsteps and chatter approach from behind again, so you and Tae move forward while steam escapes your ears.

“Just send one thing.”

“No.”

“He clearly sent that without remorse,” he notes, and the bubbling sounds of a cauldron are all you get in warning before a humongous witch charges out of nowhere.

Shrieking.

Both you and Tae yell in response, amused at how smushed together and bent backwards you are when the worker retreats into her station.

“I did not expect her to be seven feet tall.”

“I’m gonna ask her out.”

After you head into the next room—adrenaline spiked into the ceiling—your friend reminds you of his persistence.

“Humor me,” he starts, and you tilt your head with lips pursed. “He’d lose his shit!”

“What do I even send?”

“Whatever’s in your heart.”

“Wow.”

“Or your p—”

“Stop.”

While he laughs, you spot a tiny sign hovering over a dark door on your right.

Bathroom, you assume? Maybe for costume changes.

“Okay, fine,” you relent, taking out your phone and knowing this could be a super bad idea. “But I’m only sending this because I’m tired of you.”

“Whatever. You love being goaded.”

Staring at your thread, you walk forward with tiny steps, wondering what the hell to say.

His picture is certainly not helping.

The only thing you can come up with is your default. The same damn concept you fell back on at the booth. Because if your earlier taunt resulted in whatever fresh hell this was, you’re highly interested in seeing what your text will bring.

Huffing a frown at Taehyung, you show him what you wrote.

And he gives you a triumphant smirk in return.

You [8:30pm]: do it u won’t🙄

After you get through the haunted house, the street is a lot more crowded, with lights illuminating everyone’s heads and distinct festival sounds embedding in your ears.

Since all of you decide that the adrenaline and scare-induced laughter will quickly turn into hunger, you head to one of the food stalls calling your noses. Which is great timing because you need a good distraction.

Because ever since you sent the text, you’ve been checking your phone periodically, both relieved and anxious that Yoongi hasn’t replied. Like your mind can’t decide which outcome is better.

It’s only after you order and stand next to Tae that you feel a message come through.

And suddenly your bag weighs a ton.

You give your friend a look before you check it, and he watches as you clutch your phone a tad tighter.

Yoongi [8:45pm]: Wanna bet?

You [8:45pm]: omg u know u can’t

Yoongi [8:45pm]: Bet I can

What the hell? If he’s around your brother being this brazen then you’re full-on dreaming.

The wind picks up, and you shiver as you type your next message.

You [8:47pm]: ???

Yoongi [8:48pm]: He left lol. I’m with Jimin now

Oh.

Your brother left?

And Yoongi stayed?

…That changes things.

You [8:50pm]: just y’all?

Yoongi [8:52pm]: Yeah

Yoongi [8:53pm]: Rather it be just us though :\

Your phone damn near falls out of your hand.

Because this cannot be happening.

What kind of alternate reality did you step into? Why is he suddenly so forthcoming you want to hurl your device into the nearest bin?

Whatever it is, he needs to quit before you run out of air.

Humming, you grapple onto reality before diving into conversation with Tae.

“It’s just him and Jimin now.”

“Now what?”

“I dunno!” you whisper, appalled that he’s left you out to dry in the cold. “You’re the one that put me up to this.”

He laughs. “I just wanted to see what he’d say. I didn’t expect to get this far.”

Groaning, you look down at your texts, wondering what the hell to do.

You [8:55pm]: just us?🥺

Yoongi [8:56pm]: Acting cute won’t work today, doll

Yoongi [8:57pm]: Not after what you pulled

Well.

Shit.

Everyone else at this festival be damned.

You [9:00pm]: i don’t recall a thing

Yoongi [9:05pm]: Uh huh

Yoongi [9:05pm]: You’re just making it worse for yourself

As your other friends get their food, you watch them go to a table before you sigh,

“Wish I could see him.”

The words come out so naturally that you even surprise yourself.

And Taehyung’s smile can be heard in his voice when he replies,

“Then do that.”

“Not here,” you mutter. “There’s way too many people around.”

“So?” When you shoot him a rueful look, he cocks a brow. “Everyone’s just enjoying themselves. I can sit with them if you wanna find him.”

Your heart skips right into Tae’s hands.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Keep it quick, though,” he says, looking towards the table your friends huddle around, eating and finally quiet. “Even though they look beat. They could still be down for stuff.”

“We stayed up so late last night,” you explain through a smile. “Movie marathons are no joke at Reia’s place.”

“Wow, thanks for the invite.”

“We thought—Well, I thought you were busy.”

“Mm. Perhaps.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Taehyung in your life. If only you were able to pack him in your car to keep during your university days.

But alas. He’s here now. And being the most supportive of your sneaky ways as he can be.

After you go up to get your food, you hold the container in one hand while messaging. “Lemme see what he says.”

You [9:07pm]: prove it then

It doesn’t take long for him to answer.

Yoongi [9:09pm]: You sure?

You [9:09pm]: i got 15 min tops

Yoongi [9:10pm]: Lmaoo that’s plenty

Yoongi [9:11pm]: Call me when you dip

Can he get any more insufferable today?

That’s plenty? For what!

Nerves buzz as you and Tae make a plan before you walk off, hoping at least Dominique understands where you’re going.

Well. You’re gonna get an earful later either way. May as well make this fifteen minutes count.

But when you’re a safe distance away in the crowd, you ring him up, wondering what could possibly await you on the other side of the line.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Where are you?”

“By the food trucks.”

“Head towards the haunted house. There’s gonna be a churros stall on your left.”

A churros stall? You didn’t expect that.

“Okay.”

“You want anything?”

“No, it’s okay! I just got food.”

“K. We’ll be here.”

How you can instantly spot Yoongi in a crowd is always gonna be a mystery.

Even with his hood up and draped in dark colors, your eyes zero right onto him, watching as he grabs something from a vendor that turns incredibly shy.

And Yoongi swivels in time to see your smile of understanding, too far away to catch the way you cease breathing.

Which is good. He doesn’t need his ego inflated even more.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Looking around, you take in the rest of the line and wonder, “Where’s Jimin?”

“Getting something else.”

Oh.

He leads you around the corner, settling into a space between the stalls only occupied by trash cans and trodden leaves. A tiny nook where you can pretend that you’re just hanging out with Yoongi like it’s the most normal thing.

And suddenly it’s your favorite area of the festival.

“Those smell so good,” you notice, mouth salivating as you lean on the warm side of the churro booth.

“Want some?”

“Nah. This was expensive enough.” Grabbing the wrapping, you look around at the people passing by.

Did you say no because you feel jittery enough standing here with him? Maybe. Because the butterflies in your stomach aren’t just from getting to spend alone time outside. Their wings are still dusting bits of paranoia along your rib cage.

“Suit yourself,” Yoongi tuts, getting a full bite while observing the night crowd. The crunch is enough to make you regret ordering the subpar meal you just paid for.

After the two of you get a few bites in, the sounds of cooking and games and voices fill the silence.

Before Yoongi disrupts with two words.

“Gimme some.”

“What?”

“Your food. Feed me some.”

You gawk, almost dropping the bite in your hand. “Umm, no?”

“Come on,” he persists with a lift of his cocky chin. “No one’ll notice.”

“Are you serious?” Alarmed, you swing your neck around to see if there’s anyone you suddenly know, senses on high alert. “People could see us—”

He.

Just took what was in your hand.

With his mouth.

As you still feel the cold air where his lips touched your fingers, he swallows in triumph. “Said you were next.”

This entire night is a fever dream.

You don’t even know what to say, much less do. Your head is literally quite empty, and any brain cell you can find seems to be focused on one thing and one thing only.

“Yoongi, I swear…”

“What?” He laughs. “Thought I was talking about something else?”

“I…” Blinking, you look at his unfinished churros. “Didn’t know what to think, honestly.”

He hands you his container while taking yours. “Didn’t even send a pic back,” he points out, and you think you hear a smidge of pout in his words.

Of course you weren’t gonna. But you only offer an excuse, “It was dark in there.”

“Just one,” he says, leaning onto the stall next to you. “Just once.”

After a moment of silence, he tacks on,

“Of your ass.”

“Yoongi.”

He’s laughing! You’re drowning in complete shock and suffering and he’s full on elated.

You’ve never seen him like this. Even if you were mad at him, you’d still smile. “What’s up with you today?”

Is it the season? The weather change? There has to be something about today that’s responsible for his mood. And you want to thank whatever it is until it gets tired of you.

Yoongi just looks at you with creased eyes before huffing. “You really got me at that damn booth.”

Oh. That’s not possible.

There’s no way all of this is because of something you said.

You look away with a shy curve of your lips. “Yeah, well. You got me, too.” Turning, you poke his chest with a nail. “So this isn’t over.”

“The hell it isn’t.”

You expected something completely different to happen in these fifteen minutes, but you’re enjoying yourself as is, just hanging out and eating outside.

And Yoongi’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him.

Any amount of time to witness him like this is already worth it.

Your bag buzzes, and both you and Yoongi look down at the sound.

Taeee😪 [9:17pm]: Take your time. They left and I’m gonna do the haunted house with Jimin.

Wait.

They left?

How the hell did Tae swing that?

You [9:18pm]: they left??

Taeee😪 [9:17pm]: Yeah. I told them I’d take you back to Reia’s when we were done here.

Ten-thousand lunches.

You owe him ten-thousand, very good lunches.

Every single thought in your body enlarges, crowding you to the brim with excitement and outright giddiness.

Time. You get so much more time.

But the logical side of your brain is quick to remind you: you’re still out in public. There’s a chance that people can still see you out with Yoongi, especially the people looking to hang out with him, too.

All this opportunity, but what do you do? What even can you do?

“Need to go?”

You quickly tear away from your phone, and the guarded look on Yoongi’s face makes you feel the guiltiest you’ve felt in awhile. Because you’re positive your expression is giving away the conflict raging through your brain.

“No, I…”

You didn’t like that look. Not one bit.

But what do you do? What can you and Yoongi… do…

Looking back down at your text, you realize.

The answer is right there.

Immediately, you snap your gaze back to him and blurt, “Do the haunted house with me.”

“Huh?”

“Or, us. Jimin and Tae are going.”

Yoongi switches from wary to defeated when he sighs. “Don’t make me do that.”

“Why not?”

When he looks away, his lips slip into a curve of regret. “Cus fuck that. But I’m gonna if you want me to.”

Your heart throbs.

As much as you wanna see him go through the house, the ultimate plan is something else entirely. But that’ll be kept under wraps to keep it a surprise. “I’ll protect you,” is all you decide to pledge.

“I wasn’t kidding. I’ll swing.”

“No need! It’s not even a scary one.”

He gives you a look of disbelief. “If you’re lying I’m leaving your ass.”

“Rude? Trust me.”

You await his answer, not wanting to push too hard if he really doesn’t wanna do it. Obviously, you don’t wanna unearth any potential trauma or whatever. You’re totally fine coming up with something else.

But he just aims slitted eyes your way. “Fine.”

Laughing at his fake leer, you tell him he’ll be alright.

If you can get him into the haunted house, you’re golden.

All you gotta do is get him past the witch.

After twenty minutes—thanks to a Jimin that roped you into the front of the line—you’re almost there.

But the journey proves just as naughty as your destination.

“Yoongi!” you whisper, moving your ass away from another playful grab. “Stop!”

His laughs in the dark are much more potent. “Why.”

“What if someone sees?”

“All they’d do is agree with me,” Yoongi confidently answers in a low tone, and you can only see a sliver of his side profile thanks to his hood still up. “It’s too nice in that skirt.”

If only you remembered the webbed hallway as well as you recalled the hidden bathroom’s location. You ended up getting the same puff of air on your ear, which caused you to flinch sideways into him.

But unlike Taehyung who just laughed, Yoongi seized the opportunity to also hold you against him before letting go, slapping your ass to move you forward.

And paired with the darkness, your weak scoldings have only made him bolder since then. You yourself almost break before you even make it to the witch’s room.

But you hold on, cackling as much as the towering woman yourself when you see Yoongi’s fists challenge her rapid approach. When you feel him clutch your arms while trying to suppress a grin, you only laugh even harder, loving how unfiltered his actions are.

It’s almost like…

There it is. The tiny bathroom sign behind a wall of curtains in the next room.

Yoongi’s already surveying the dark for another scare, completely oblivious to your devious plan. “I swear if there’s something in here, too—”

“Come here,” you whisper, grabbing his hand.

He only looks at the contact before eyeing you, and you bite your lip to keep yourself in check, not saying another word while leading him to the hidden door.

When he catches on, the look he gives you is devilish.

“Nu uh.”

Your curve only gets wider as you check the narrow space between the curtains at the door, parting the heavy material enough to get by and head into the empty restroom.

Aside from knocking on Yoongi’s door and asking him to fuck you, this is the second most daring thing you’ve done in awhile. And your stomach has almost the same type of twists as before. Just minus the fear of rejection and broken self-confi—

Closing the door behind him in a rush, Yoongi twists your body to pin you against the nearest wall, not even bothering to turn on the light.  

Which makes his low, gravelly question twenty times worse,

“You plan this?”

Heart pulsing wild, you squish your lips before admitting, “Maybe.”

“That’s hot as fuck.”

Your mouth is smushed as you bang against the plaster, and you run your fingers along his neck while licking cinnamon and sugar off his tongue.

“Someone might use it, though,” you warn between hard kisses. “We can’t be here long.”

He wedges a thigh in between your legs before giving your side a spank. “Then hurry up. No shy shit this time.”

Moan muffled, you roll against him, the thrill of being exactly where you shouldn’t be fueling your thrusts.

Because you shouldn’t have done this.

Oh god, why the hell did you sneak in here employees could come in at any se—

“Is that all you got, baby girl?”

Fuck, his voice got a lot closer to your ear.

When you swallow, he continues with an insult,

“What a shame. Thought I taught you better than that.”

“Fuck—”

Yoongi grabs the back of your neck before devouring your lips again, tongue flicking yours while a hand wanders along your leg, your side, your ass. When he clutches what he can in his palm, he guides you in a rhythm that matches the thrusts of his mouth, and you practically melt right onto his jeans.

“There you go,” he praises, chuckling right after. “Goddamn, I wanna taste you.”

His name escapes you in a gasp. Because you feel like you’re already pushing it as is. Shit, you need to wrap this the hell up.

Shivering with nerves, you whisper, “I don’t think we can.”

If only your body followed the same rules as your brain. It’s only staying still as Yoongi loops a finger into the hem of your bottoms, shivering when he tugs you forward, and responding when he claims your lips again.

“We can.”

“You sure?”

“This won’t take long.”

His last kiss steals not only your breath, but any other arguments on your lips.

“Okay,” you whisper, hearing the sounds of the haunted house right outside the door. “Okay.”

“Now cover your mouth, doll,” he orders while dropping to the ground. Swinging a shaking leg over his shoulder, he sounds frighteningly close to your soaked panties. “You’re gonna scream.”

“We—”

Your only other warning is a finger shifting your thong—hot, determined tongue replacing it while a rough hand holds your leg in place.

Holy fuck.

You buck forward on contact, yell pushing through your fingers as a strong hum instead.

And he doesn’t say anything else as he feasts, licking along your cunt and grabbing the side of your ass with his free hand. Darkness takes away your vision but heightens everything else, and you’ve never heard dirty sounds so crystal clear. 

He’s right. This isn’t gonna take you much longer. 

It’s more than obvious he’s done this countless times before. 

Your legs dissolve into jelly when he sucks, but you feel your knees give out when the lightest of kisses are planted against your nub. Again. And again.

When did your fingers get tangled in his hair? When did your leg lock so hard you don’t feel it anymore? You don’t know. You don’t care. All you know is to rock forward, controlled by the single string that is his tongue.

Until he adds two knuckles, rubbing them against your clit and making you flinch.

A dark rumble thrums against your cunt, and you feel his body shift to… a standing position?

No no no.

“That’s all you get, baby girl.”

“What?”

“You said we had to hurry.”

“You said it wouldn’t take long!”

“Did I lie?”  

“Yoongi,” you breathe out, ragged. “I’m so close, fuck.”

“Damn.” He brushes wet knuckles against your lips, and you groan at the taste. “That sucks.”

“Yoongi, I swear to god.”

“You said we had to go.”

“I… You…” Your cunt is throbbing so hard you feel like crying. “Don’t make me do it myself.”

He gets in close, heady scent of his breath pooling across your face. “Poor baby,” he teases, one finger jolting you upward with a single, soft touch to your slit. When he slaps your cunt instead of anything else, you whine before he slips vengeance in your ear,

“You get me wet, I do the same. It’s only fair.”

Your fingers find his sleeves immediately. “This isn’t fair and you know it.”

“You’re the one that brought me in here,” he parries, and you know for a fact he’s smirking. “And I told you it wasn’t over.”

“Please.” You try your absolute hardest to tighten your weak hold. “We don’t have time to fight.”

“Fight about what?”

“Make me come, baby,” you plead with your whole chest, not wanting to play a single game anymore. “I’ll do anything, just—”

A knuckle grazes your clit, and your moan isn’t stifled by a hand this time.

Oh shit that had to be too loud—

A large palm covers your mouth before two fingers slip between your folds, and your second scream is thoroughly muffled.

“You’re lucky I fucking love when you come,” Yoongi rasps in your ear, his fingers hitting spots that light the room with stars. “That’s what’s unfair.”

Your eyes squeeze shut while you thrust against his digits, feeling the end fast approaching and outright yelling into his warm hand.

“Better hurry, doll.” His breath comes out in a slow laugh. “Unless you wanna get caught. Is that what you want?”

You shake your head, knowing that deep down, for some reason, the very idea makes your cunt throb even harder.

“No?”

Another shake.

“Then fucking come.”

His fingers lodge into your folds, spreading you open and causing your walls to flutter like mad.

And your body obeys at once, head thrown back and limbs locking, plaster and Yoongi’s fingers your only purchase from sinking to the ground. Swells of pleasure almost taken from you gush onto his digits, and his hum teeters on a growl against your cheek.

“So perfect.”

The dark continues to heighten every sense you have, and you turn your head to capture his lips before gasping for air.

Your pulses are still deep when he removes his fingers. And you already miss them as you try to straighten, legs wobbly and hands steadying on his arms.

His teasing laugh makes you pout. “You good?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Then let’s go.”

You feel him move away from you, and you decide then and there that you want more.

A lot more.

Panicked, yank him away from the door, reaching for his face and pulling him onto your lips. Bold. Risky. So unlike you.

But the dark heightens your courage as much as your senses. And something about him only focusing on you makes you want him more than ever.

Yoongi’s just as rushed this time. A myriad of flavors smears across your mouth, and his hot breaths sink wonderfully into your skin. Seconds, minutes, years. It doesn’t matter how much time you have now.

This tiny stretch of time has been a miracle, and you wanna stretch it out as long as you possibly can.

When he finally pulls away, he tells you he didn’t think you had this in you. When you admit that you just really missed him, he repeats the sentiment right back.

And when you tell him you have a bit more time left, he suggests that you all swing by another prize booth.

“What, you wanna win me something, too?”

“Nah.” He huffs a laugh, and his next sentence earns him a playful shove,

“I just wanna watch you lose.”

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fin. :) 

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A/N: so... yes. this was a 4.5k word drabble. bc some people wouldn’t stop talking and being cute with each other and someone else just had to keep being a good ass friend!!! anyway. hope y’all enjoyed! there are so many other drabbles to come during the fall season, so get ready. i would love to know what y’all thought about this one! any feedback would be much loved :D  ++ feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist

[cosmiischillin]

Twilight Town AU: The Ragdoll Monster

In the original Ruby Gloom, Ruby was essentially the lone “human” of the group. She does live with a cyclops, a skeleton, a banshee, conjoined twins, ghosts, a bat, and three crows/ravens. In addition to Twilight Town, there’s also a witch and a fallen angel. Now I do say “human” with quotes since she’s described a lot as ragdoll-like if not straight up a ragdoll.

So I’m gonna describe and sorta layout what type of monster, my process in creating her, and what I have planned for her for y’all to read below.

The Ragdoll Monster

So in the AU, she is explicitly a living ragdoll. I think it’s a general agreed thing in the fanon that she is a ragdoll in the likeness of Raggedy Ann. To be honest she reminds me of Strawberry Shortcake a lot more.

With that in mind, I gave her all those little stitches on her body and even alongside her clothes since I think she looks adorable with the patchworks and wearing a lot of textile knits. I even made it a special ability that she can sew her body parts if she ever ends up injured though you’re better off not letting her bleed

The Dark Side

So it is planned already that Ruby is more than just a sweet looking face. This part of her design was based on the earlier versions of her character. The darker and very much goth version before the show. I was inspired by these snippets from an interview about her and some artwork of her

She also has a lot of inspiration from Coraline, in fact her eyes were gonna have little white spots to look like buttons but I couldn’t get them to look right hence her big eyes now.

Now for her really dark side and Lore. Her monstrous side is based on two things. One is the creep factor of dolls and puppets and the other is vampires.

I didn’t put him in her mood board but Ruby got some inspiration from Wally Darling such as his creepy little stare which gave me more ideas alongside the early ruby works.

Now the vampire part was added when I began concepting classic monsters into the AU. Out of nowhere I began to draw Dracula with a regular doll version of Ruby. I love the concept so I expanded it.

Lore and Backstory

Dracula and other vampires can turn humans by having them taste vampiric blood so, to test it out, Dracula got a baby ragdoll then injected his blood into the doll’s insides. Miraculously the ragdoll was brought to life though she appeared to be like a normal infant with an overly cheerful disposition. It was only then she showed abilities that not even vampires could possess. Dracula decided to name her Ruby and sewn up the rest of her appearance, calling her his daughter. At some point, Dracula hired the Raven brothers to leave his castle with Ruby to a place she could be safe from humans and to record anything new powers she develops.

Ruby has lived in the Twilight Town Mansion for now 17 years. She is upset that humans see monsters as nothing but evil and dangerous creatures that should be destroyed hence why she creates her new Blog, the Good n Gloom where she will be able to show that monsters are just like them If not a little creepy and kooky. But that doesn’t mean that when push comes to shove, she’ll do what she has to do in order to help her friends.

I hope you like this slightly longer post talking about Twilight Town! This is the first time I got to go in full about the lore and what has been done for these characters! I guess the vampires are kinda different from the classic movie version ^^:

Next Character: The Banshee

[yanderemommabean]

So small slightly deeper explanation of the anti/pro shipping drama for the bean who asked about it.

The reason people put proshippers dni is because the pro shipping community is heavily infected with people who think it’s ok to ship children with adults or to ship siblings in a non-platonic manner and that they shouldn’t be called out for it.

I’m all for shipping whatever you please do long as it’s not incestuous or pedophilic. Those are where I draw the line because allowing it in spaces makes it easier for predators to claim they’re just in their actions.

Anti-shippers usually try to call out predators in spaces but aren’t without their own bad apples with the aforementioned people who take it too far with harassment.

It’s a very nuanced situation because I don’t think people should be harassed over shipping but problematic ones l mentioned should be addressed in a serious manner and called out so they less of a chance to groom others.

(No hate this is just a topic I know a lot about and figured I’d give a better explanation on the topic, I don’t consider myself to be on either side but a neutral party. Love your content and hope you have a lovely day Momma bean!)

I don’t think people should be harassed for noncon stuff either to be honest, it’s dark fiction and as long as the author tags it right they should be left alone because people with actual noncon kinks are respectful of the safe word and want you to feel safe and secure. I think dark topics like yandere and obsession should be explored with characters and writing for those who can handle it or at the very least have a small interest in the genre.

I understand why people think fiction of this is bad. I’m a victim of this horrible crime and I understand never wanting to touch the topic. But this helps me feel in control and to express darker things that I’d never want in a million years in a healthy way. It’s ok to not like noncon 100% fine! But to shame people who do it safely and have warnings and let you know how dark it’s gonna get? Idk man. Idk. Doesn’t sit right.

I’m not shaming people who like vanilla stuff either not one bit. I want them happy and healthy and feeling safe in their little zone! It’s just the people who proclaim to be sunshine and rainbows often turn to be the hurricane in disguise. Just because you like wholesome media, it doesn’t make you a wholesome person.

I write horror and worse and y’all know me. I like to think I’m pretty nice and welcoming. ((If not let me know??? This is supposed to be a shame free blog after all???))

I get not wanting to read or write for non consensual scenarios and much worse but it’s just another dark medium certain people including me use to escape reality or to even heal from trauma. There’s a reason I write mine so gentle and protective yet scary and demanding. It makes me feel like I’m not damaged goods and that I’m wanted even if it’s more or less not reciprocated lol

Idk I’m rambling at this point I just think people should leave people alone as long as real life, flesh human beings aren’t being hurt.

-Mommabean

[steve0discusses]

Ep 46 Pt 1: Zorc’s Massive Low Hanging Fruit

We are getting very close! I don’t actually...remember how many episodes there were in this season but listen, It can’t possibly be more than 50 right?

Right?

Anyway, we’re starting off in the battle basement in Yami’s tomb. Who, of course has a battle basement installed right outside of his final resting place, just like how he would have wanted.

And it’s here that the form of Bakura that the dub is telling me is Ryou wants to kill his own classmate. Which, I’ll just point it out since a couple people mentioned it, apparently the manga did not do this nor did the original Japanese version. The dub just made this Ryou for giggles. We already know Bakura can split into evil pieces, this was not necessary. We also know that Ryou is sleeping on those painful steppies, so this doesn’t make much logical sense.

But like we’re watching the dub right now, so sorry, everybody, this is Ryou. Ryou on a bad day, I guess. Dark Ryou. Not to be confused with Shadow Ryou, who is...that other freaking guy.

Yugi just upset that he forgot to bring his dueling disk to a dream universe in the past or whatever. Must feel naked without that thing stinking up his left arm and making that school blazer all wrinkly. Bro is telling me that Yugi should have one really big arm, kind of like trogdor.

(read more under the cut)

the one thing that does make sense with making this Ryou is a little bit of symbolic imagery. Ryou talks about how he doesn’t have friends anymore in the beginning of this arc, and we can assume it’s because he’s decided to step away from other people because of the ghost in his bean. In contrast, Yugi has all these friends he cursed to like him (woops), and for whom he just risked his whole life for, and for whom he didn’t learn the Pharaoh’s name that he needed in order to save all of mankind.

Which, for reals, Tea and Joey are such good buds, that he really did just end the world to save their ass, and that is pretty anime of him.

But Tea gets very nervous over whether or not Yugi was going to perma-die. It would be very awkward if he died, since he’s also the host of this puzzle which is she is currently stuck inside of. Though I’m not 100% on if it’s even possible for him to die here. Little bit of a chicken or the egg situation, which I may have brought up before.

But still, she’s worried about it.

Which is when Joey does a quick head count and go “WAIT WAIT"

(the show does not show us where Tristan is)

Back at Kul Elna, everything is very quickly falling apart. Rocks are falling from the sky, Pharaoh is back at the capital with Seto and the other Seto, and Karim helllllllllllllla died last episode (or 2 episodes ago? I have such bad memory nowadays) so we’re just gonna leave his corpse in the barn and go.

sorry I just took in the incredible abs on this oversized chess piece that is Hassad. 

Why bother? Like for reals why bother?

I have so many questions about this random guy and his character design and they will not get answered. Apparently Dark Side of Dimensions dives into it as well as other unresolved issues from this season but like, that’s for another time. We will be watching that later, and at my rate it’ll be like 5 years from now but I swear...unless I caught covid a second (third?) time we will eventually get there and find out the deal of this...this freakin guy.

Meanwhile, our story boarders are not finished flexing. I think they really enjoyed this particular episode, with this really fun composition around Bakura here. They LOVE to shred scenery with Bakura on this carving, and there are so many good shots where it’s like a comic cover. I mean, look at this:

Damn that’s a good idea. This composition is fun. You got the curves from this...pokemon that I forgot the name of... you got him dead center all strong and rigid to contrast the curves. You got purple and green clouds. It’s fun. If y’all ever want to do the “draw this anime still but in your style” this is a good still. Good stuff.

And then Bakura peaces off--no idea where, and it doesn’t really matter since we have like so many Bakura’s at this point. Lets just assume he’s everywhere.

And with that, the ground gives way to the ZORC within.

This ultimate being, Zorc, who we’ve been talking up for so many episodes.

And that’s when we find out Isis also left out another crucial detail about Zorc:

So listen. We can say that the...neck...of the snake is coming out of his lower stomach. But also, they left it in shadow for a reason. 

The reason is, this episode is getting me flagged.

It occurred to me I don’t have to go for the low hanging fruit. I don’t have to. I can find a way around this. And I struggled. And I did whatever I, a full grown adult, could think to do. I thought to myself, I am a creative person, and I am inventive and I can write comedy well enough so it’s not just about poops and butts and dicks.

And then I gave up because of the number of times this thing is dead center on screen. And really, truly, I make a lot of low hanging jokes on this blog anyway so we’re just going to embrace Zorc for who he really is, both inside and outside.

And he is a slowly growing talking dragon shaped penis with legs.

Covered up by my joke towel in this scene I want you to know the snake just had it’s maws wide open to shout them down. It literally does only talk out of the dragon head on the bottom part of him.

Anyway, then Hassan jumps in front of the missiles zorc shoots from his crotch and well...he dies that way.

Death by firecrotch. This is like an immortal God meant to be the protector of the Pharaohs but you can kill him and the way how is disgusting.

There they go, back to the palace, which like, I guess is VERY close to Kul Elna, since Yami and Seto are currently vibing there right now.

Back at fight club, these two are still at it.

and then back at the funeral of the most romantic anime death of all time, Seto is still at it.

Seto, despite probably having to throw just SO MANY funerals for his tragic backstory is not very good at them. So right now he’s just distancing himself emotionally from literally everything going on around him by convincing himself this is all a very vivid hallucination.

Which it is. For once he is correct, this entire arc is a hallucination, but a hallucination with consequences. Which he is not used to. Hell he doesn’t see consequences when he’s not in a hallucination half the time. He’s like super rich.

Yami decides he did what he can, but he’s done with this freakin guy. I guess trying to reach through to Seto is a skill that only Yugi possesses, cuz Yami is just clear out of patience for this sociopath. Which is a shame, he usually loves this sociopath.

I laughed out loud at this cut to this horse’s ass and Seto’s reaction to being left behind from getting a ride the one time he was the one who needed a ride.

LMAO at the dub for adding that suspicious soil clump where a dead girlfriend probably was laying before.

but being real, this is another very nice shot, I didn’t cap it for vibes, and I really should have. Again, if you’re looking for a “draw this in your style” anime still challenge, this is another fun one. You got a juxtaposition of old and new. You got the storytelling of the dead girlfriend and trying to understand feelings you don’t understand because you were taught to never love. You got lovely ancient pillars. You got a clump of dirt that used to be a girl...

Like we may have dragged Seto’s ass back here, just to make him look cool and out of place in that coat as the wind sweeps by him. And that’s fine, I’ll accept that Seto this season may only be here for some vibes.

As he admires her slowly breathing (yes, breathing, thanks dub) he flashes back to that only time he every had a single conversation with this woman (a conversation they had, only because she thought he was someone else)

And off he goes, to look cool and probably do little else.

And as always, here is the link to read these from the beginning in chrono order.

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

[noramoons]

what lies beneath | teaser

pairing: kim hongjoong x g/n reader

genre: siren!au

includes: angst, some fluff

rating: T/13+

warnings: language, some slight horror themes, Family Issues as a minor plot point

est. word count: ~10k??

summary: there’s a pair of eyes blinking up at you from below the pier. you think you know who (or what, really) they belong to—but you might be too afraid to admit it.

a/n: hi okay i’m honestly not even through with a third of this actual fic but !! i rlly wanted to get this teaser out hehehe i’ve been Thinking abt this concept for a minute and i’m very intrigued to see what y’all think !

edit: oneshot posted here!

Your uncle’s voice suddenly interrupts the stream of thoughts in your mind. “If you’ve got it covered, I’m gonna head inside and start on dinner.”

You nod absentmindedly, tucking the last rope into the beginning of its knot. “What are we eating?”

He smiles at you. “Guess you’d better hurry up and find out.”

You roll your eyes at him, but in your sudden rush to finish the knot, you don’t complete it nearly as tightly as you should—and you can already feel the boat drifting to one side from the loose knot.

You sigh at your own impatience, but you start the knot over again anyway, pulling on the other ropes to line the boat up with the side of the dock again before you start, checking the angle into the water to make sure it’ll be as close to perfect as possible so you can hurry up and go inside, and it’s then that you see it.

There’s a face in the water—and it isn’t yours.

No. You’re seeing things. After a long day in the sun, you know it’s not unheard of for your eyes to play tricks on you looking into the water. You draw your focus back to completing the knot, shaking the unusual thought of your head of what you know you couldn’t have possibly seen.

When the knot’s finally complete, you cast your gaze into the water beside the boat one final time—and you realize, in stunned horror, that you’d been right before. There is a face, a face you can just barely see in the water as your legs dangle off the pier—and it isn’t your reflection. No, the angles of the jawline, the cheekbones, the chin are all far too sharp and precise to be yours. To be human.

He blinks up at you, far too innocently for someone—something that has been holding its breath underwater for at least the past five minutes.

You don’t know how long the two of you stare at each other. It could be minutes, hours—you really aren’t sure. You’re finding yourself practically lost in the eyes of the being before you, dark and abysmal and inviting all at the same time—this, you imagine, must be what drowning feels like. Completely helpless.

It’s then that you realize your ankles are touching the water. That’s strange—you’d been sitting atop the dock just a moment ago. When did you get in the water?

You feel as if you’ve just awoken from a dream. You don’t know how you’ve gotten here so suddenly, but you’ve definitely moved—you’ve turned around to face the dock, and your arms are the only thing keeping you above the water, your legs submerged up to your knees.

You quickly scramble back out of the water and heave your body back onto the dock, making sure all your limbs are still attached before staring back into the bay beneath you, looking for that face beneath the water again—but it’s gone. Whatever it was has completely vanished, leaving nothing but the soft lapping of the waves against the shore in its wake.

taglist: @petrichor-han @kangroo-chan @ot7lonelylover @lilacdreams-00 @mainexiii @awkwardnesshabitat @lotus-dly @elizabeth11moreno @nerdysl-t @seung-scrittore

[sergeantxrogers]

| missed you |

Summary: When Bucky finally got home, you realized you had missed each other more than you thought. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (post TFATWS)

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Smut!!!, swearing, choking, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, y’all), spit kink maybe?, praise, dog tags- they deserve a warning all on their own

___________________________

The clock always seemed to go twice as slow if you were waiting for something. Or someone. Each minute felt like 10, and each hour felt like 5. 

You glanced at your phone, waiting for any new messages, but all you saw was the one you had gotten a couple hours ago.

Bucky: I just landed. On my way back.

6:38 p.m.

The clock above your TV in the living room read 8:40, and a frustrated sigh left your body. Bucky had been away too long, in your completely humble opinion, and New York had never seemed farther from Chicago than tonight. 

The growing anxiety you felt when he was in Europe, with Zemo, had reached it’s peak when you watched the events in New York happen live on the news. All your worries melted from your mind and body when he finally answered his phone and you heard his voice telling you he was alright. 

When Bucky had first told you he was moving to Chicago, claiming “the people were better” (or whatever bullshit reason he had pulled out of his ass), you thought it would be easier on your nervous heart. You were wrong, obviously. The whole ordeal just gave you more reasons to be worried and afraid.

Lost in your thoughts, with your legs kicked up on the coffee table, you hadn’t heard the front door open and shut, and hadn’t noticed the heavy footsteps walking down the hall, and hadn’t recognized the dark figure at the doorway, until he called your name. 

Your eyes widened when you saw him, your body immediately jumping up from the couch. He dropped his duffle bag on the ground by his feet and opened his arms, and you ran into them like your life depended on it.

Bucky’s arms tightened around your waist and he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your skin. Your arms made their way around his neck, and he lifted you off the floor a few inches, squeezing you.

“Okay, okay, Buck!” you said through a strained laugh.

“You’re gonna kill me,” you breathed.

He hummed into your neck, placing a kiss to it before pulling his head back. His hands held your cheeks, and a smile played on his lips. His eyes were tired. Tired, but relieved.

“I missed you,” he whispered, as if it was a secret.

Your hands gripped his wrists and held on, squeezing once as you said:

“I missed you more."

“I highly doubt that, baby,” he insisted, “Ya know how annoying it is to be surrounded by men all the time?”

Your smile dropped and you gave him a pointed look, and he laughed at your incredulous face.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But Bucky, I’m always surrounded by men- I get it,” he chuckled. You shook your head, trying to keep the smile that was threatening to appear from showing. 

Bucky let out a happy sigh and his eyes took in every inch of your body standing before him. 

“I could kiss you right now,” he said quietly.

You lifted your hands to his jaw, angling his head up to make eye contact with him.

“Then why don’t you?”

And that was all it took for him to surge forward, soft lips meeting yours, and you sighed into the kiss. Your hands went up to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, and you opened your mouth to let him in, almost ritually. His hands travelled from your face to your waist, then to your hips, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible. 

His lips left yours and started leaving wet, heavy kisses on your jaw, then down your neck, and your eyes closed. You let out a short sigh when you felt his lips meet the skin above your collarbone, biting at the skin and claiming your body as his own. One of his hands left your hip, but quickly came down in a short, light slap on your ass, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant. Jump.

So you did, trusting him to catch your legs when they wrapped around his waist, and he did, holding you against him with a strong hold on your thighs. 

Your hands held you steady, gripping onto his shoulders. Bucky moved his kisses from your collarbone to the base of your throat, and you threw your head back, fingers digging into his jacket. He placed three sweet kisses up the column of your throat, before meeting your own lips again. 

“Buck,” you breathed into the kiss, hands tugging at his hair. He just hummed, hands rubbing the back of your thighs, and your legs tightened reflexively around him. 

“Couch,” you managed to get out before his metal hand came up to hold the back of your head, and before you knew it, you were on your back on the large couch you had decided to splurge on a while back exactly for this reason. 

Bucky hovered above you, in between your legs, the hand that was on the back of your head now resting against your neck. No pressure, it was just enough for you to be aware it was there, and your heart started racing faster. 

Bucky straightened himself, on his knees in front of you, and you watched him take his jacket off, pulling his shirt over his head too.

Your hand reflexively reached out to touch him, but he grabbed your wrist and pushed it back, into the couch next to your head. You felt the familiar heat growing deep in your stomach when he dropped his head down to kiss you again, the metal of his dog tags cold against your neck. 

Your brows furrowed and your hips pressed higher into his, but he moved away from you as soon as you made contact. You couldn’t help the whine that escaped your lips when he pulled his lips away, the air around you feeling colder without him on top of you. An amused smile tugged the corners of his lips and he raised his eyebrows at you. 

“You know, babe, I don’t think this is fair,” he teased, and you gave him a confused look, to which he answered by giving a slight tug on your cotton shorts.

“You still have all your clothes on,” he stated simply, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he pulled the shorts down your legs as fast as humanly possible. A chill ran down your spine and another wave of heat washed over the pit of your stomach when he pulled his body back, dropping lower so his head was level with your clothed pussy. You lifted your head to get a better look at him, heavily breathing dangerously close to where you needed him and you groaned inwardly, tangling your fingers in his hair in an attempt to bring his face closer. Keeping his head in place, Bucky faked a pout at you, hands running along the insides of your thighs. You tried closing them, out of habit, but he kept them in place.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he cooed, tracing his nose along your thigh, lips teasing the edge of your panties. 

You whimpered as your hips writhed underneath him, his eyes watching you intently.

“Use your words, honey, c’mon,” he said softly, tracing a finger down your slit, still covered in your panties, and your eyes almost popped out of their sockets at the sudden contact. 

“Wanna tell Bucky what’s got your panties so wet, baby?” he teased, and you met his eyes again right in the moment when he pressed a kiss to where he knew your clit was. Your hips bucked into his touch, but his metal arm held you in place.

“Bucky, please-,” you let out breathlessly, eyes screwed shut at the feeling of him running his nose up and down your pussy, so close yet so far from where you were burning for him. 

“Please what? All you gotta do is ask, baby,” he spoke against your core, and you pulled even tighter on his hair.

“Please, please touch me, please,” you begged through a desperate whine, and as soon as you did, he hummed against you and pulled your soaked panties to the side, the cool air meeting your hot pussy sending goosebumps down your legs.

Your back arched and a moan left your lips when Bucky swiped a long, slow lick from your entrance to your clit. He took his sweet time, watching you throw your head back into the couch when he sucked on your clit. You felt him smile against you and you panted slightly, opening your eyes to see him buried between your folds, eating you out like he was starved. You supposed he was, after spending that much time away from you. He quickened the pace of his licks, alternating between lapping at your entrance and teasing your clit, and you preened when his fingers gripped your hips. You knew they would leave bruises, dangerously pressed into your skin and bones, but all you could focus on and care about now was Bucky humming against your pussy and his beard scratching your inner thighs. 

His hands went up from your hips to your waist, and your hand found one of his, gripping it tightly. Your legs wound tightly around his head, he felt his jeans getting tighter by the minute, and it took everything in him not to grind into the couch with every whine and plead that left your lips. 

You felt the familiar coil tighten in your belly, and you dug your nails into Bucky’s hand.

“B-Buck-,” you breathed, and he nodded in between your legs. The hand that you weren’t holding disappeared from your waist, and you didn’t have time to miss the warm contact before you felt one of his thick fingers draw slowly into you. He pulled it out and back in once, before you fell apart. You arched your back and moaned his name out, hands shooting down to push his head closer to you. You writhed underneath him as your orgasm washed over you, and he placed soft kisses on your clit as you rode it out, eventually your legs falling limp on his shoulders and back. 

“Baby...,” you called for him, too spent to open your eyes just yet, and you felt him come up to you again, kissing you. You groaned softly at the taste of yourself on his swollen lips, your hands running across his shoulders and back. 

A deep breath left his lips when they left yours, eyes meeting yours, and you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.

Bucky’s head dropped down to press a long kiss on your neck, his hands pushing your shirt up your stomach and over your breasts. His lips made their way from your neck to your boob, kissing the area right above your bra softly before nipping at it, eliciting a yelp from you. You felt him smirk against your skin and he kissed further down your stomach, cold metal of his dog tags trailing down your torso, before he pulled your panties down your legs completely. 

“God,” he muttered, lips pressed to your right hip.

“I fucking missed-” a kiss to your stomach.

“This fucking body-” a kiss to your ribcage.

“So much-” a kiss to your chest. 

You were at a loss for words, instead focused on the hard outline in his jeans, pressing insistently at your inner thigh. Kitten-licks to your neck, fingers tracing your sides, he wanted to take his sweet time with you.

You, on the other hand, weren’t as patient, hands making their way down his bare stomach and fumbling with his belt buckle. Finally unbuckling it, and unbuttoning his pants, you teased your fingers under the hem of his boxer briefs, bringing them around to his sides, raking your nails up his back and soon your hands came back to his messy hair. 

“Bucky please,” you moaned, hips pushing up to his to find any sort of relief, and he chuckled.

“What is it, baby? What do you need?” he quipped, almost sarcastically, and you bit your bottom lip.

His thumb came up to pull it from your teeth, tracing it over your lip then down your chin, pulling your mouth open. You watched with desperate eyes as a strand of spit left from between his lips, falling onto your tongue, and a needy whine sounded from the back of your throat when he forced your mouth closed again. 

“Swallow,” he demanded quietly with furrowed brows, leaving no room to argue, so you did. 

In the blink of an eye, Bucky grabbed your hips and flipped you over on your stomach, pulling them so you were ass-up in front of him. Your heart jumped at the fast action and you arched your back, pushing your butt towards him. His hard cock, still in his tight boxers, met your pussy and you knew there would be a wet spot on them. A low groan left Bucky’s lips, and you felt his hand wrap itself around your throat, pulling you up against his torso. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me, baby?” he muttered into your ear, and you gave no answer.

The hand around your throat tightened its hold and his other hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, and your head was pulled down to rest on his shoulder 

“I asked you something,” he whispered, lips moving against your ear in close proximity. 

“I do,” you answered simply, and you felt him tense behind you. Gotcha.

Without saying anything else, Bucky let go of your neck and your hair, and your body dropped in front of him to the position it was in before. You heard a shuffle behind you and before you even realized he took his boxers off, you felt him. 

Teasing you with the head of his cock, Bucky leaned over your body, and from where your head was laying on the end of the couch you saw his metal hand next to you, holding himself steady. You couldn’t help pushing your ass into him more, but he pushed it back and gave you a low chuckle. 

“No, no baby, we’re doin’ it my way.”

Without warning, his flesh hand landed in a sharp spank on your ass, and a greedy whine escaped your lips. He massaged the area that was already starting to burn deliciously, and he leaned down to press a kiss between your shoulder blades.

“Please, Bucky-,” you stammered, squeezing your eyes shut when he pushed the tip of his cock inside you. 

“What? Please what?” he asked lowly. Letting out a frustrated huff, your hand reached forward, searching for anything to hold onto, and wrapped around his vibranium wrist next to your head. 

“C’mon, princess, use your words,” he teased. You hated how unaffected he seemed, and hated how little it took for you to turn into putty in his hands.

“Buck- Bucky, please fuck me,” sighing out the last few words when he pushed himself into you slow and steady as soon as you said his name. 

You felt him bottom out, and buried your face in the couch cushion under you, never being able to get used to the size of him. Your pussy clenched around him involuntarily, and he groaned deeply when you whimpered.

“Please,” you wanted to say, but it came out no louder than a soft whisper, “Please move.”

Bucky let out a low fuck at your begging, pushing the side of your head into the couch and pulling out, before pushing himself back in. A moan left your body at the burning stretch in your lower abdomen, and he took that a sign to move faster. So he did. 

Sometimes, when Bucky fucked you, he fucked you hard, and fast, leaving bruises on your hips, hand prints on your ass and hickeys on your thighs where only he could see them. Other times, he fucked you deep and slow, whispering words of affection in your ears that sent you over the edge. He knew how to send you spiraling, knew what buttons to push and how to push them. This time, Bucky fucked you like he missed you, because he did. With every hard, steady thrust of his hips, a soft, whiney moan escaped your parted lips, and you couldn’t form words. 

His hand on your head kept it from moving, and you couldn’t form a coherent thought as you stared, eyes heavy lidded and mouth open, at his hand next to your head. Your fingers tightened their grip around his wrist, moving up slightly to grab his arm, and you gasped when the hand on your head moved to push your back down even more than you thought was possible, causing it to arch more and him to hit new angles. 

“B... ,” you couldn’t even call out his name as he drilled into you, whispering into your ear words that you just barely registered, something along the lines of “my baby’s doing so good” and “pussy made just for me”. 

A wave of something hot washed over your body, and all of a sudden you were hyperaware of the slight sheen of sweat that covered your body, underneath your shirt, and the heavy breaths leaving Bucky’s mouth.

He pressed your back even harder, ruthlessly pumping into your pussy like it would run away from him. 

“My sweet baby,” he groaned through his thrusts, dropping to place a kiss to the back of your neck, and you whined at the simple touch.

“So- so good, Bucky,” you managed to stutter, and he hummed in affirmation against your neck.

You felt your stomach tighten, signaling the wave that was about to wash over you. After hearing the urgent, desperate moan that came from you, Bucky’s hand moved to your hip, gripping it harshly. 

“Buck, I’m gonna-,” you warned him, and he reached his hand around under you. All it took was three rubs to your clit for you to fall apart underneath him. 

Letting out his name in a prolonged, loud, almost embarrassingly pornographic moan, the coil in your stomach snapped and your legs went numb. You arched your back, pushing your ass hard against his hips, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your hand gripping his arm went limp, dropping to hang over the side of the couch. A few tears fell over your lashline, without you realizing you had even teared up, and then your whole body relaxed in his hold. 

Bucky’s thrusts, in the meantime, had slowed, becoming sloppier, and the heat from his cum pouring into you was almost comforting in a way, spreading warmth through your already sore lower abdomen. 

“Shit, doll,” he hissed through clenched teeth, letting out a deep sigh as he dropped his body onto yours, and you let out a small grunt accompanied by a lazy giggle when he started peppering the side of your face with kisses, moving strands of hair from your sweaty forehead. 

“You were so good for me, baby...” he whispered into your ear between kisses, and all you could do was nod, eyes drooping tiredly.

Eventually, he pulled himself out of you carefully, and you whimpered at the sore burn between your legs from your thighs being stretched so much for so long, not to mention his hips snapping into yours at a bruising rate. You laid face down on the couch, spent and tired with your eyes closed, hearing Bucky walk away behind you. He came back after a few moments, floor creaking underneath him, and you slightly jerked with a start when you felt something cool against your legs, before realizing he was wiping the aftermath between them, presumably with a towel. You honestly couldn’t tell, you were too tired to focus on anything but the sound of Bucky’s steady breathing behind you. 

He walked away again, coming back quicker this time, and you cracked one eye open just enough to see him walking towards you in his boxers again, carrying a pair of your panties in his hand. A tired, dopey smile graced your face when you felt his hands pull your panties up your legs softly, and you pushed your hips up slightly to help him put them on. Goosebumps attacked your bare skin when he pressed his lips to the tender skin of your ass where it had been slapped, and you sighed.

“Buck,” you muttered, half of your face smushed against the couch, muffling your voice. 

“Yes, bubba?” he asked behind you, thumbs rubbing the backs of your thighs.

“Lay with me a bit?” you asked.

And you had asked him so prettily, so sweetly, he couldn’t bear to say no. So he laid beside you, pulling you into him by your waist, carting his fingers through your hair. 

“That was great,” you muffled against the couch sleepily, “Missed you.”

Bucky chuckled at your tone and buried his nose into your neck. 

“I missed you more.”

“Not possible,” you drawled, but you were too drained to pull any sort of sarcasm or playfulness through the remark. You felt his soft lips on your neck, hot air blowing through his nose against your jaw, and you let out a yawn.

“Sleep.”

You whined softly, not wanting to fall asleep when he had just gotten home, wanting to spend as much time as you could with him, but you felt his fingers smooth out the crease above your furrowed brows, relaxing your face.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.”

[lokislastlove]

Sweat and Sacrifice (Soft!Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader) p2

Summary: You decide to meet face to face for the first time on Christmas at a football game, and it’s not what you expected.

Warnings: Dubcon, teasing, groping, sadly this chapter is smut-free (Steve is mad too don’t worry)

Notes: I had no idea y’all were gonna like this Steve, but I’m stoked. Hahaha thank you so much for encouraging me to continue. Will likely be a couple more chapters, I will try to write quickly. Can’t believe y’all got me posting shit before I finish the whole series. 😬❤️

Part 1 Here

🏈

He leaves you abruptly as your emotions threaten to bubble over. Shocked, doesn’t seem quite substantial enough to describe how you feel. You feel violated, but you can’t seem to rationalize why. Every argument that springs to mind to explain your unease is instantly shot down by that other ‘little voice’. The one all girls have after years of being blamed for their traumas.

He lied. Or was he just being cautious? He manipulated you. Or was he just trying to be romantic? He forced himself on you. Or did you send him mixed signals? You did grab his hair, and you were the only one who got to orgasm.

You slide off the counter and search for your clothes. You quickly pull on your pants, your brain shifting to autopilot as the little voice smothers your outrage. Guilt and regret eat at your insides as you grab a bottle of wine from the counter, taking a generous swig as you curl into the corner of the couch.

Peter returns some time later to find you staring blankly at the black screens as you sip silently. He helps himself to a plate of snacks and joins you in the couch, completely oblivious to your apathy.

“Oh, shit. Sorry! I should have just left it on for you,” he apologizes as he scrambles for the remote and turns on all the TVs.

You flinch as Steve’s face stares back at you, smiling and confident as he whispers to his teammates before the next play. You take a larger gulp, the alcohol dulling your emotions as you watch the game and get steadily more drunk.

“Uh, should you be getting that?” Peter asks, drawing your attention to your phone vibrating the coffee table.

You stare at your dads picture as it lights up the screen and shake your head. There is no way you are ready for that conversation. The picture disappears and adds another marker to the dozens of missed calls and texts.

“I don’t know what to say to them yet,” you mumble and hiccup.

“Hey,” Peter says hesitantly, “how about we switch to water and maybe eat a little something.”

He takes the wine bottle from you gently and you scowl at him, but let it go. He hands you a plate of food and in your drunken haze you pick at it lazily. The salty crunch is such a simple pleasure and you focus on it until Peter plops down again and offers you another plate.

“You gotta try these cupcakes, the frosting is just – mmm,” he hums in delight as he takes a bite.

You blanch as your stomach rolls and you quickly cover your mouth. Springing to your feet, you run to the private bathroom and barely make it to the sink as the accumulated stress of the day washes down the drain. After you empty your stomach and the blood rushes to your head you feel a sense of clarity, sobering you up a bit as you quickly clean yourself up and rejoin Peter.

“Are you okay? Or – uh… can I get you anything?”

You wave him off and grab a bottle of water, “I’ll be fine, I think I really am going to go though, I’ll call Steve after the game.”

You grab your purse from the counter and move toward the door but Peter is quick to block you.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you do that,” he says in a soft but serious voice.

“It’s not really your decision. Now, please get out of my way,” you push past him and reach for the handle.

His hand latches onto yours as you try to twist and you scoff, “Peter, what the hell are you doing?”

“You can’t leave,” he implores with those same puppy dog eyes.

“Peter,” you warn, “let go.”

He removes his hand, but stumbles for an excuse, “you shouldn’t be driving after all you’ve had to drink.”

You angrily yank open the door, “I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.”

You turn to leave but run into a brick wall of a man, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as he fixes you with a frightening glare. His dark hair, thick brows and stubbled angular jaw give him a menacing look as his veins bulge along his thick muscular arms. The tight black shirt reveals the same commitment to fitness on the rest of him as he takes a step toward you, herding you back into the room.

You back up in fear, and he grabs the handle and throws Peter a warning look before closing the door without a word.

“Who the hell is that?” You look back at Peter who shifts nervously.

“Yeah, uh, that’s Brock. He’s the head of security,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Security? Why do I need security?”

Peter hesitates, his internal struggle displayed plainly across his face, “look, Cap just told us to make sure you don’t leave. He must have known you’d get freaked out and maybe he’s afraid you’ll try to ghost him or something. I just know he made me promise to make sure you would be here for him after the game.”

“So I’m trapped here until Steve says otherwise?” You scoff.

He blows out a long breath, “well it sounds kind of messed up when you say it like that. I’m not trying to upset you, I just - I just really can’t lose this job. Please.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare at him, part of you wants to leave, you don’t owe this kid anything… but the other part of you feels guilty at the thought of ruining his life just so you can go sit at home alone an hour early.

You sigh, “dammit Peter. Fine. But once I see Steve, I’m telling him this whole thing is fucked, and I’m gone.”

He nods, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this harder for you. I was just trying to help.”

You drag your feet back to the couch, comforted to see the clock tick down to the final two minutes of the game. Steve is a machine, carrying his team to a dominating victory. The crowd outside the window cheers so loud the glass rattles on the overpriced coffee table and you gorge on the bowl of candies Peter offers you.

Peter sits in silence, afraid to make you any angrier while you fume at the scene on screen. Steve jogs gracefully over to the camera, barely winded with a few perfectly placed strands of tussled hair on his dewy brow.

“Here he is, the MVP of the evening… we’ll let’s be honest you’re always the MVP aren’t you, Rogers?” The newscaster flirts.

Steve let’s out a shy laugh but before he can answer one of his teammates pushes into frame, “he ain’t the only stud on the field, doll.”

He laughs as the brunette tosses his long hair back and hooks his arm around Steves neck, pulling him close to kiss his cheek before winking at the interviewer and running off.

The flustered newscaster blushes and attempts to recover, “so what’s your secret, Rogers? Give your fans a tip for success at Christmas.”

“I don’t know if it’s a secret but whenever I want something I go all in. Can’t hold anything back, ya know? I keep to that old football motto, ‘sweat and sacrifice equals success’,” He affirms seriously.

She smiles, completely smitten, “But that second half was incredible! Five touchdowns! Two of them you ran for yourself!”

“Well, I admit I did have a special halftime treat that gave me a real boost,” he smirks and winks at the camera.

“Oh! So you do have secrets after all. Care to share?” She holds the mic up a bit closer to his face.

He smiles, eyes twinkling, “sorry, that’s one I’m keeping all for myself.”

You swallow hard as you subconsciously push yourself further into the couch, heat rising to your face as you avoid Peters eye. You clear your throat and cross your legs to keep them from bouncing nervously. Thankfully he soon makes a quick exit and they show him run off the field, tossing a few things out to fans along the way.

Peter turns off the TVs and stands up to face you, at the same time a pounding knock on the door makes you flinch.

“Time to go,” Peter says softly as he offers you his hand.

You stand up on your own, hands buried in your pockets as you let Brock and Peter escort you through the facility. You swallow your sass after Brock’s first warning. All it takes is a terse, “no” and you shut up for good. Even as he grips your arm a bit too tight, manhandling you through the crowd and past a keycard-required door. The heavy door cuts off the buzzing swarm of excited fans as they mob the exits.

The silence of the private hall is deafening as your anxiety causes your heart rate to skyrocket. You feel like a child being dragged to the principals office for some unknown offense.

At the end of the first hall the pristine blue carpet diverges into two paths, to the left you hear the boisterous masculine roar of the team as they celebrate the victory, but thankfully Brock points you right. You make it half way down the hall before Brock stops you with a clipped whistle and opens up a door for you.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back,” he huffs, storming off back toward the loud locker room door.

You look to Peter, who nods with a smile, reaching past you to flick on the light to a meeting room of sorts. Long empty tables and expensive office chairs face a large white board and projector screen on the opposite wall.

“It shouldn’t take long, he already refused the post-game interviews so I’m sure he’s eager to see you,” he attempts to comfort you.

“I just want to go home,” you mutter tiredly as you cross your arms and step inside.

Peter sighs quietly, his brows tilting in sympathy, “Merry Christmas,” he mutters with a sad smile as he salutes goodbye and ducks out of the room, the soft click of the door shutting behind him.

You listen to his light footsteps recede and a silence follows, the muffled sound of voices through the thick walls your only companion. Everyone relishing in the victory, enjoying the merriment of the holiday, while a storm rages within you.

Why are you waiting here for that man? The man who put you through this rollercoaster of a day, without a hint of warning. The same man who prevented you from leaving, who is STILL preventing you from leaving, because somehow his fragile ego outweighs your autonomy. That spite burst back to life as your patience wains. Fuck this. You’re going home.

You turn back to the door and go to leave, but the handle resists. You push harder but it doesn’t budge, they locked you in.

“Hey!” You shout, jarring the handle angrily, “fuckers.”

You push away with a huff and wander the room. Fighting the boredom, you shuffle through the stack of memos and stray paperwork left out on desk at the head of the room. A meeting schedule with lists of players who need to attend, hardly riveting information, yet you jump and pull your hand away sharply when the door suddenly opens.

“Mmm cupcake,” Steve smirks from the doorway.

Good god, he’s huge. Even now, without the padding, his tight workout shirt clings tightly to his bicep, accentuating each perfectly chiseled muscle of his arms and shoulders. He leaves the door open wide as he struts toward you, his thin sweatpants hang low on his hips and reveal his excitement.

You don’t even realize you are backing away until you hit the white board behind you and he is quick to swallow you in his embrace.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” he hums into your hair as he squeezes you tightly and sways you back and forth.

You are once again at a loss for words, trapped in his over eager bear hug, it’s all you can do to hold your breath and wait for it to end. He lets out a long happy sigh and releases you, setting you back on your feet. You grab your coat and pull it tighter around you as you try to step back and get a bit of distance. The size difference, especially up close, is disarming and all that anger that had been raging seeps out of you as you look up at him in awe.

“Did you miss me?” he asks as he runs a finger along your jaw.

You jerk your face away as that salacious glint appears in his eye and you move away, rounding the table to keep a barrier between you, not that a folding table is much of a deterrent.

“What’s the matter?”

You scoff and throw your hands up, “this, Steve! You kept me locked up here like some animal.”

“I came as fast as I could, I left all my teammates so I could come see you,” he rounds the table and you shuffle farther back.

“Steve, just -please,” you hold up a hand, “give me some space.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “we’ve already had plenty of that… which is the whole point of today, isn’t it? … to finally put an end to all this space between us.”

His argument gives you pause and you soften under his sweet smile and the way he takes another slow cautious step toward you.

“I’m sorry they locked you in here, but it smells way better than the locker room right now, trust me,” he jokes.

Emboldened by the faintest smile curling your lips, he takes a larger step forward until he’s only a couple feet away. There’s a brief silence where you try to come up with something to say and he amuses over each of your nervous ticks.

“I hate that you feel so uncomfortable, but I admit I could watch you squirm like this for hours… would be way more entertaining than what I actually spend time doing in this room,” he chatters.

“Yeah I can imagine it gets boring – studying old footage all the time,” you offer, ignoring the first half of his comment.

“Oh you have no idea,” he agrees. “Most of the time I spend it secretly messaging you, though. So I guess it could be worse.”

You finally meet his eye and he grins, “oh yeah, you have been a real life savor.”

That face could melt butter, which is exactly how you feel as he flashes you those perfect teeth, his thick lashes fluttering bashfully as he takes that final step toward you.

“I’ve really enjoyed talking to you too, Steve,” you admit, “but…”

He cuts you off when he spins you and faces you back toward the coaches desk at the front of the room. He pulls your ass against him with a strong hand on your hip while his other hand smooths over your chest, pinning you to him. You gasp at the unexpected change of position and a shiver runs down your back as his hot breath fans down your neck.

“Everyday I spent looking at that desk, imagining it was you up there giving us lessons. Maybe then I’d actually pay attention,” he chuckles into your warm skin. “My favorite is when you call me up to the front and let me show all my teammates what a real champion looks like. I’ve bent you over that desk so many times in my head,” he growls as you feel his arousal grow against your back.

You pull at his hands and he starts to nibble your neck, “Steve,” you moan weakly as he hits that perfect spot, and you struggle harder to get away.

“For all we know, we could have put on quite a show already – up there in that box,” he whisper huskily and you freeze. “But I just couldn’t help myself, it’s been months of teasing and I just had to have you.”

“Steve, no… b-but what if someone saw?” You cry as the regret fills you once again.

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it, I know you did. You are just as eager as I am. You sent me to bed with that picture, remember? … mmm, what was it you said? – you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me,” he reminds you of your drunken lust-filled evening after a whole day of him flirting with you.

You can’t deny that before today you thought you had been ready for anything. Months of all talk without any physical touch had you practically feral – damn hormones.

“I’m not saying I don’t - I’m not denying…“ you stutter as he works his way to the ticklish spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I know,” he interrupts again, hand finding it’s way under your jacket to expertly palm at your breasts over your shirt.

You let out a shocked gasp followed by a moan as he leans over you, making you feel small and vulnerable as his touch gets more insistent.

“See, this is how this room should be used,” a strangers voice intrudes from the open doorway.

Steve chuckles darkly as he lifts his head to peer over his shoulder, “Buck,” he greets, “timely as always.”

You push out of his arms and quickly adjust your clothes, clearing your throat in embarrassment. You step away from Steve and cross your arms, “hi.”

Bucky smirks as he eyes you, “nice to finally meet the mystery girl. I’ve heard, probably too much, about you.”

He laughs at the way your brow furrows in concern, and Steve silently waves off your fears.

“Come on, Buck. Don’t scare her away,” Steve scolds as he comes over and curls his arm around your shoulders.

Bucky holds up his hands in surrender, “I just came to let you know that your ride is here.”

You shuffle awkwardly under the weight of Steve’s massive arm as Bucky’s gaze runs up and down your body, his tongue poking out to wet his lip.

“Yeah yeah, we’re coming,” Steve concedes and gestures Bucky out the door, who leaves with a sardonic smile. You move to follow but Steve keeps you close, squeezing your shoulder to whisper in your ear, “we’ll have to revisit this little fantasy later, huh?”

You eye the desk on your way out of the room, thankful to have an excuse to leave. You have a strong feeling had Bucky not barged in Steve would have had you bent over that table within minutes, regardless of discretion or your apprehension.

“But what about my car?” You ask as Steve escorts you to a blacked out suburban in a rapidly darkening back street.

“Come on, Cupcake. This is the part I’ve been waiting months for… to actually spend some time together,” he cajoles, holding both of your hands in earnest. “You can’t possibly expect me to be satisfied with a brief, though undeniably delicious, half time.”

You grimace at the nickname, but feel a twinge of guilt as you recognize the truth in his words. Even though it’s been a long day, you haven’t really had time alone to talk and you feel as though you owe him at least that.

“Where are you taking me?” You ask, raising a brow curiously before you climb in.

He simply beams in response, “you’re gonna love it.”

tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ @caffiend-queen​ @queenoftheworldisdead​ @buttercupfangirl​ @needleandhammer​ @thiskindahotkindamusic​ @lokiswildheartcantbebroken​ @patzammit​ @maluisamarvelfan123​ @yellow-winds​

[maaaaaatryoshka0325]

Cottontail - Bang Chan Hybrid Smut

Warnings: hybrid smut, rabbit hybrid reader, alpha wolf hybrid Chan

I haven’t updated in awhile so I’m giving y’all something for now 😅

Your hips were up in the air, fuzzy little tail perked up in excitement. Your fluffy, floppy ears were pressed to the ground besides your hands, the soft fur tickling your cheeks. You felt his hands gently rubbing the soft skin of your ass, his fingers lightly grazing the lacy material of your thongs.

“Such beautiful skin, Y/N.” Chan said in a low rumble, his elegant fingers dancing along your smooth skin.

His long, silver-gray wolf tail was slowly wagging in excitement, his dark eyes eating you up like prey. Your friend, Felix, an orange tabby hybrid, had introduced you to Chan a few weeks ago at a party. His scent and aura attracted you to him, his alpha male demeanor drawing you in.

Now you were face down, ass in the air on a plush rug in his massive house. The chill in the room biting at your bare skin as you laid before him in just your bra and thongs.

You had never heard of a rabbit hybrid coupling with a wolf hybrid, and you had your doubts at first. But you couldn’t resist him, you couldn’t help but feel your heat get hot under his gaze, feeling like he was going to eat you up like the big bad wolf. Feeling like prey beneath him brought out a thrill in you, one you’ve never felt before.

You closed your eyes and let out a small moan as his fingers gently glided over your covered heat, gently rubbing your clit through the lace. The smallest touch from him sent sparks throughout your body, and he was loving the way your body was reacting. Your scent was driving him wild, but he knew he would have to be cautious. He himself had never heard of such a coupling either, and hurting you in a way that wasn’t for pleasure was the last thing he wanted to do.

“It’s taking everything in me not to be balls deep in you, little one.” He whispered, leaning forward as he spoke so that his long canines could graze the side of one of your fluffy ears. “I could ravage you in just one bite.”

You let out a low moan as he sunk his teeth into where your fuzzy ear folded, the sting making your core throb. Both of his hands came up and rubbed your ass cheeks, the warmth from his hands spreading throughout your lower half. His fingers lightly grazed your dripping heat, then he pushed your panties to the side.

“I’m gonna prep you enough so you can take me, okay?” He said gently, pressing a gentle kiss to your right ass cheek.

You nodded, your pussy throbbing excitedly, waiting for his touch. A rough slap to your ass made you whimper, a gasp leaving your lips as he gripped your hair from the roots and pulled your head bad.

“When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response.” He growled into your soft ear. “Am I clear?”

“Y-Yes.” You moaned out as his right hand squeezed your ass, the other still threaded into your hair.

“Good, my sweet little bunny.” He purred as he let go of your hair.

You felt his elegant fingers run over your ass then down between your legs, where they finally made contact with your bare clit. You let out a soft moan as he circled your clit with his fingers, his soft breathing felt warm as he dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the swell of your ass. You let out a soft moan left your lips as he gently bit into the soft flesh, his fangs breaking the skin as he sucked a dark mark onto your right cheek, his pointer fingers finally dipping into your begging entrance.

“So wet, little one.” He rumbled softly as he lifted his head and pressed kisses to your arched back as he began to pump his finger in and out of you.

Your cheeks turned a light shade of pink, but your mind was too full of pleasure for you to be embarrassed right now.. His finger curled in the best way possible, hitting the perfect spots inside you. Your eyes were closed in bliss as he continued to pump and curl his finger, pulling it out occasionally and using his soaked finger to circle your clit.

You yelped as he pushed your thighs up, making your knees practically touch your elbows. Your ass was now high and proud in the air, his thumbs moving to open your pussy completely. You were about to question what he was doing, but the words couldn’t even form in your mind, let alone your mouth, when you felt something long and wet slip into your entrance. A moan escaped your lips as his long hybrid tongue lapped at your soaked, velvety walls. His tongue twirled inside of you, his eyes watching as your hands gripped the plush carpet.

Your mind went completely blank as you felt your thighs become wet as your arousal dripped down from around his tongue. If it hadn’t felt so good, you would have surely been embarrassed at your position. You never thought being eaten out from behind would feel this good, and definitely never thought of finding yourself in this position.

His tongue was as deep as it could go, his hands holding onto your thighs as slurping sounds filled your fluffy ears. You squealed when you felt one of his hands come up and grab a hold of your fuzzy cotton tail, pulling on it gently, yet firmly. The sparks that shot through your body had your thighs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to cum, and you desperately tried to hang onto the littlest bit of consciousness you had left.

All it took was his fingers rubbing your clit in fast circles and you came with a loud whimper. Your thighs shook and your breathing was heavy as he lapped up your juices, your hands still clutching the plush rug. He gently pressed kisses from your soaked heat up to your soft ass before standing up. You turned your head and saw him unbuckling his belt, his pretty hands easily popping it out of its place.

Your eyes widened when you saw his length spring free, and you had to stop yourself from gasping. His length was long and thick, a massive vein running through it and up to the tip. You subconsciously moved forward, your one hand reaching out and wrapping around the tip. You leaned forward and licked around the tip, making him chuckle.

“Usually I don’t allow anyone to touch me without permission, but you’re just so cute.” He purred.

You smiled around his thick length as you took it further into your mouth, the base too big to completely swallow it. His fingers gently rubbed over your soft ears, making them twitch as the sound of you slurping on his length filled the both of your ears.

“You like my dick, darling?” He asked.

You hummed happily around it as you pulled back and licked around the tip, your tongue focusing on the slit for a moment. You felt him grab your ears, and before you could question it, he shoved himself down your throat. You half choked as he kept his hold on your ears and thrusted into your mouth, his dick pushing down your pipes.

Slurping and slight choking sounds bounced on the walls as the vein in Chan’s neck began to pop out, one of his sharp canines piercing his plump lower lip. You looked up at him, a soft grown leaving his lips when you made eye contact.

“You’re so cute.” He groaned.

His thrusts got harder, and so did his grip on your ears. You clutched his hips tightly, expecting for him to finish. But instead, he ripped himself from your mouth and you nearly fell over, but his strong arms grabbed you.

He lifted your chin up with his one hand and pressed his thumb into your saliva covered lips, gently spreading it around before sticking his thumb into your mouth. You parted your lips and allowed his thumb in, giving it a soft duck as he chuckled.

“Good girl.” He rumbled.

He turned you around and bent you over again, your cottontail high and proud in the air. His right hand grabbed a handful of your ass, his fingers denting the skin. You felt him rub his tip along your soaked heat, your eyes closing in bliss. He swirled the tip around your clit, making you whine.

“Please.” You whimpered.

“Hm?” He asked.

“Please give it to me Chan, I need it. I need your knot.” You whimpered, knowing full well male wolves went crazy when it came down to their knot.

You heard his breath hitch at your words, and you almost smiled. But the feeling of his thick tip beginning to push into you made your jaw slack as it stretched you out. You whimpered as the tip was in, knowing it wasn’t the thickest part. His hand came down and rubbed comforting circles into your back, his voice gentle.

“You’re doing so well my sweet little cottontail, just hang in there.” He rumbled softly.

You closed your eyes as he began to slide deeper into you, your nails digging deep into the carpet. He leaned over you and began to leave comforting licks on your neck, a soft whimper leaving his lips as he pushed further into you.

“So tight.” He rasped.

You let out a loud whine as he pushed the rest of himself into you, your legs shaking as his tip was pressed against your cervix. You could feel the beginning of his knot sitting outside of your entrance, your heat getting wetter as you thought about taking it in you. He licked your neck for a few more moments before lifting himself up. He gently caressed your ass cheek before pulling out a little and thrusting back in.

Your toes curled as he began to thrust into you, your gspot and cervix on full display for the alpha’s thick length. His hand reached up and pulled your ears back like a pony tail, making your back arch as he began to snap his hips into yours.

Loud moans left your lips as you threw your hips back into his, the pain of his length pummeling your cervix slowly started to be a full pain. His grip on your ears tightened as he pulled your head back, his tongue brushing the shell of your ear as he pounded into you.

You could feel his knot slamming against your entrance, your loud moans music to his ears.

“Your moans are so cute, I could listen to them everyday.” He rasped in your ear.

You couldn’t even think of a response as his hand went down your back and gripped your tail. You whined loudly as you tightened around him.

“Oh?” He asked with amusement, thrusting harshly into you. “Do you like your tail being grabbed?”

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence with the way he was pounding into you, his grip on your tail became harder as he used it to bounce you back off of his hips. You were dripping all over around his dick, your moans getting louder and more high pitched. His hips started to smack off yours harder as you came around him, a high pitched cry leaving your throat.

He slowed down a bit and rolled his hips into yours through your high, before turning you over. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and slammed into you, his hips slapping off of yours. Your eyes went between your body’s, and you saw the bulge in your lower abdomen every time he thrusted into you. You could feel his heavy knot smacking off of your entrance, trying to find its way in. But Chan wasn’t ready for the two of you to be finished yet.

He held the back of your thighs as he pounded into you, his thrusts fast and hard. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, and you got lost in the difference between his harsh thrusts and his soft pillowy lips. You moaned into his mouth as he pulled all the way out to the tip and harshly thrusted back in, soft groans and grunts leaving his lips.

His fingers skillfully dropped down to your clit and you whined loudly as your thighs tightened around him, hitting another high. He didn’t let up this time, his thrusts becoming harsher and more faster. His hand came up to your clit and stayed where his dick was appearing in your abdomen, a loud groan leaving his lips.

“That’s so hot.” He painted.

You yelped as he flipped you back over, lifting your hips up and slamming back into you. You gasped when he wrapped his arms behind the back of your knees and lifted you up, thrusting up into you and making you bounce harshly on him with his arms. His lips grazed your neck, then he sunk his teeth into your off flesh as he continued to bounce you harshly on his length. The burning of the bite made you realize he was marking you as his, he was claiming you.

You tightened around him at the realization and he whimpered into your neck, licking at the spot that had started to bleed. He went over on his side, keeping you just the way he was as his thrusts went crazy. Your jaw was slack as the knot began to push into you further with every thrust, until Chan let out a loud whine as it pushed into you. You cried out at the feeling of it stretching your further, your toes curling as you hit what felt like your tenth high of the night.

Chan was lightly still thrusting into you, licking your neck and holding onto your thighs tightly. When his thrusts stopped, he still kept his arms under the back of your knees, clinging to you tightly. You could feel his knot pulsing inside of you, your eyes closing in pleasure as it was pushing against your gspot with every pulsation.

Your thighs were shaking and he nuzzled your neck softly, making you smile.

“You were meant for me, my little cottontail.” He purred.

You went to move when you felt the knot tug and he whined, pulling you closer into him.

“We’re gonna be stuck like this for a bit, so don’t go trying to run off.” He chuckled hoarsely, a small groan leaving his lips as he felt his knot swell harder.

You looked down and gasped, your stomach was swollen, and you realized it was from Chan’s knot cumming so much. He licked the shell of your ear and nuzzled his face into your hair, his fingertips gently rubbing the back of your thighs.

“You have me hooked, cottontail.” He purred in amusement.

“You also have me hooked, alpha.” You said back.

Chan pulled his hips back as his knot deflated, and you let out a small moan as cum poured out of you, your stomach beginning to deflate as well. Chan lifted you into his arms, his glowing eyes full of desire.

“I’m not done with you yet, my love.”

[shoichee]

how would atsushi, akashi and aomine react to haizaki threatening/hitting on their s/o?? (cue that one scene where he was literally taking on himuro, kagami, kise, and alex all at once 😡... basically that, but with their s/o)

ANON…. THOSE 3???? LONG STORY SHORT…. HAIZAKI EXPERIENCES DEATH (OR AT LEAST NEAR-DEATH) 3 SEPARATE TIMES…… BUT HERE’S THE “LONG STORY” THROUGH THESE HCs 

TW: attempt of physical assault, unwanted advancements… asshole Haizaki? cut under this to keep y’all safe JUST IN CASE

[Headcanons]

Aomine Daiki

you went out to look for Aomine after noticing how he hasn’t come back to his seat for too long

this was shortly after Kaijō defeated Fukuda Sōgō, and it was currently intermission before the next match rolled in

your face was met with crisp air as your eyes adjusted to the dark, scanning for any sign of your boyfriend

upon seeing no one, you decided to walk around the perimeter, just in case Aomine decided to nap for a quick moment on a whim and forgot to tell you

maybe you shouldn’t have walked out alone and in the dark of night, but you figured that in such a public event in a public area, you didn’t think anyone had the balls to start anything fishy around the stadium

oh how you were so wrong

you unfortunately bumped into Haizaki right when he was slowly strolling with his basketball shoes over his shoulder, and you immediately stopped in place, praying that he would walk past by you or perhaps not even see you

you knew that he wasn’t good news based from what Aomine told you and from watching that unpleasant game… he was bad, bad news

why did you think he wasn’t gonna see you? his senses are as sharp as a falcon, scrutinizing you before he realizes your identity

“Oh? Now what’s a pretty little thing like you doing out here… all alone?”

“I, um, I was looking for someone, but I realized it’s been getting a little too late… I think they returned back to the stadium, so that’s where I’m heading…”

your voice slowly diminishes to a soft whisper by the end, but judging from his widened eyes from glee, you knew he wasn’t going to walk past by you after this

“That so?” he drawls, licking his thumb. “The stadium ya say?”

something about his gaze turned sharp and dangerous, “the stadium” triggering unadulterated rage and frustration from the game and from his encounter with Aomine

“I… I really gotta leave,” you say in a hurry, quickly backing up. “Th-They’re impatient, so—”

“Huh?” he mocks, leaning closer to you. “I’m kinda of an impatient guy myself, yeah?” but upon even closer inspection, he realizes that he’s seen you somewhere very recently

“Hm?” he muses lowly. “Weren’t ya sitting with Daiki that game?” when you don't answer out of fear, his eyes merely shine with excitement… “Ohhhh… is that how it is?”

. . .

Aomine returns back to his seat after settling a score with Haizaki outside the stadium, but immediately becomes confused when he sees your seat empty

Sakurai immediately apologizes and quickly informs him that you went out to look for him, and Aomine immediately dashes back out… after all, who knows if you got lost in the dark or if you kept being persistent in looking for him?

imagine his visible distress when he sees Haizaki putting an arm around your shoulder while still holding his shoes and you looking absolutely fearful because you knew what he was capable of

this was a very rare moment where Aomine was not so calm and collected

but he tries to, especially when he knows that Haizaki probably relishes in the fact of “getting revenge” for that punch earlier (and probably realized the connection between you and Aomine to do so)

“Hey, asshat,” he calls out, grabbing Haizaki’s attention away from you, but Aomine notices him pulling you slightly closer to his body. “The fuck you think you’re doing with (y/n)?”

“Hehh? So (y/n)’s your name?” Haizaki merely pays attention to you, completely ignoring Aomine

“Back off,” he says lowly, almost to a growl. “I won’t be holding myself back to just a punch this time if you do anything else.”

at his hardened glare, Haizaki does a gleeful mock-surprise expression before putting his arm off of you and says: “Whoaaa there, Daiki. Never pegged you as that typa guy.”

he licks his thumb before walking away casually without a care in the world before calling out, “It ain’t fun here anymore, I’m bouncin’ out.”

by the time he leaves Aomine’s field of vision, he finally releases a pent-up sigh before calling out your name:

“... Come’ere… he didn’t do anythin’ to you right? Sheesh, I leave you alone for one second—alright, alright I guess it was more than a second… fine, it was several minutes… look, I’m sorry… okay, okay quit lecturing me… more importantly, promise me you don’t go out alone like that. It’s dangerous out there, y’know.”

when you finally ask about what he meant by his threat to Haizaki, he smugly replies, “Aw, that? I gave him a hard sock earlier. Went down pretty easily.”

Murasakibara Atsushi

it’s quite rare that Murasakibara would agree to going to Tokyo temporarily over break, let alone leave his house, but here you two are, resting on the park benches in Tokyo

shortly after, you went to the nearest arcade hall, begging and tugging him along with you to try the strength test for the jackpot prize (totally using his physique to nab home prizes and merch LOL)

he only agreed because you looked way too excited for him to turn the plan down

he still enjoyed himself, if he was being honest; it’s just you, him, his snacks, and some games you both are playing together

Murasakibara notices that the arcade also has a mini food court to the side, and he immediately pouts at you to let him go tasting galore on a food binge

and you laugh, telling him to “hurry up” to tease him and letting him know that you were staying here to try to earn more points to exchange for rewards at the end

you entered a coin into the slot and hummed before seeing a START screen, but as soon as it went black into a loading screen you saw someone’s reflection on it

Haizaki was right behind you

“Whaddya know? Would ya look at that?” he says, hands in his pockets while sneering. “If it isn’t (y/n).”

you merely pretended that you didn’t hear him, considering that the arcade was pretty crowded and noisy, and went on to playing the game in front of you

you hoped that by the time you were done with the round, he’d be gone, but his reflection was very much still there on the arcade machine screen, depicting his laid-back posture against the back of another arcade machine, watching you with complete amusement

after spending all the available coins on hand and still sensing him behind you, you promptly turned to your left to head for the coin machine and acted completely casual, but before you got too far ahead, Haizaki easily blocks your path with an outstretched arm, the hand against the arcade machine

“Whoaaa,” he drawls. “That’s pretty fucked up for you to ignore me like that.”

“... You’re blocking the way, so can you please kindly let me pass?” you flatly say, not bothering to look at his face

“What’s with the cold shoulder?” He tilts his head with a crazed look in his eyes that spelled unpredictability. “I just came and stopped by to say hello to an old friend from Teiko. Nothin’ wrong with that, hm?”

“Look,” you sigh. “You’re in the way, and I wish to spend my time here left alone. No, I’m not interested in small talk. No, I’m not in the mood for a bite with you. No, I don’t want to give you my number. Did I address everything?” you finally turned your face to look at Haizaki, but his face contorts to one of a dangerous beast

“Good, good…” he slowly says. “You haven’t changed one bit, haven’t ya? I was wonderin’ where that feisty side of yours went.”

perhaps you shouldn’t have spoken up after all; it only riled him up more

before you can formulate any further thoughts, he grabs your chin and directed it towards him, and you immediately froze up

you tried to dart your eyes around you if anyone noticed, but no one seems to pay attention

“What’s the matter?” he asks. “Cat got ya tongue?” when he looks to where your gaze was at, he chuckles before drawing closer to your face. “No one’s gonna help… not when they think we’re a little thing…”

but he instantly feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Haizaki turns around, ready to cuss the perpetrator out, but his eyes widen when he sees a furious Murasakibara

a giant with a very, very hostile aura… even nearby crowds dispersed out of fear for their safety

“Hands off of (y/n)-chin, pest.”

“Oho?” Haizaki releases your face and completely turns around to face him. “Well if it isn’t Atsushi… been a while hasn’t it?” he brings up a hand in a shrugging motion. “While I’d love to chat, I’m busy. Scram.”

“Touch (y/n)-chin again, and I’ll break all of your fingers.”

“Huh?” Haizaki licks his right thumb. “What’s up with ya? It’s non’ya business.”

you took this as an opportunity to run to Murasakibara’s side and seek shelter behind his back, which Haizaki raises a defiant brow

“Hmmm?” he smiles a slow smirk. “Was I really such bad company, (y/n)?”

his smile was completely wiped when he sees Murasakibara’s outstretched hand towards his head, and he deftly dodges his grasp before he walks off with a scoff

“I’m gonna crush him—”

“W-Wait! Just leave him be…” you held onto his torso in a full-attempt to stop him from going too far, and after a few moments, he relaxes with body and finally turns to face you

he doesn’t say anything but darts his eyes all over your figure to make sure there weren’t any injuries on you

he gently holds your hand before he tugs you to follow him to the food court

“Murasakibara…?”

“... You won’t be separated from me if we hold hands, (y/n)-chin.”

“I’m fine, you know.”

he doesn’t say anything more, and when you both settled into your table with your orders, he’s constantly staring at you and giving nonverbal cues that he wants to do PDA with you

becomes very protective and affectionate of you for the rest of the trip

grows very quiet and deep in thought until you reassure him that you were okay because of him stepping in to save you

Akashi Seijuro

it’d be extremely rare for you to ever bump into Haizaki, especially when the only chance you can see him is during the annual Winter Cup

Winter Cup arrives once again with the GoMs being 2nd years this time, and Akashi is still the same Oreshi ever since last Winter Cup

Haizaki definitely had seen you walking with Akashi very closely before the opening ceremony started, and it gave him ideas on how to “get back” against Akashi without directly confronting him

he was gonna mess with you

even after all those years, he still has that grudge against Akashi; the fact that he is one of the few people who has that power over him irritates him to no end

even when Akashi told Haizaki to quit long ago to help him save face, his pride was still heavily bruised

when he was sure Akashi wasn’t with you, he approached you while you were waiting outside the stadium

. . .

Akashi exits out of the locker rooms and carries his duffel bag before he heads to the entrance to greet you, excited in reuniting with you to talk about today’s games and your opinion on Rakuzan’s performance… that is, until what he saw made him beyond furious

“O-Ow…!”

“If ya want someone to blame for,” Haizaki sneers. “Ya can thank Akashi for messin’ with me, yeah? Don’t take it too hard babe, but I’m just returnin’ the favor… by proxy.”

Akashi strides over to the two of you with the intensity of death that would even surprise Bokushi himself

“Haizaki.”

at the sound of his eerily calm voice, Haizaki turns over to Akashi, and his glee is immediately wiped off his face and replaced with one of anger… and hidden fear

he suddenly drops you from his chokehold, and as you hit the ground, coughing to intake air, he turns to Akashi with a vengeful look

after a suffocating staredown between the two, Haizaki tuts and turns to leave in unspoken defeat, knowing full well the consequences from defying against Akashi; it’s something he never did in Teiko and certainly not something he would risk doing now

Akashi immediately drops his cold facade and rushes over to your side, rubbing your back and examining the slight bruises on your neck

his HIGHEST priority at that very moment was your safety, and he decided to take you to a doctor and then to your home, opting to cancelling/rescheduling any plans for today despite your objections

all the while, he coos softly at you and touches you with such care and gentleness that you managed to calm your heartbeat from that sudden attempt of assault

as soon as he feels like you’re safe, mentally and physically (and probably in a safe environment with either a GoM or at your own home), he reveals his true emotions on his face regarding the incident for the first time when he’s alone

being super considerate about your current mental state, he didn’t want to potentially scare you even more with his anger and much more negative emotions

for the first time, he allows his darker thoughts to simmer and stir… it’s one of those rare times where he wishes that Bokushi still existed within him

he eventually finds time to pay a visit to Fukuda Sōgō… to make nice… threats conversation

if you somehow figured out that he was going to do that, only when you convinced him is when he’ll decide to back down

but that’s only IF you figured out about how Akashi really felt about this…

[fxckingghxst]

JJK Headcanons

how they comfort their s/o who gets migraines all the time.

Pairings: Gojo, Itadori, Megumi, and Nanami x Gender!Neutral Reader

Genre: pure fluff and comfort 🥰🥰

Warnings: mentions of migraines and symptons+nausea and throwing up

A/N: I’m back! Sorta, not really. I finally had some free time from work and school and have been getting mirgaines lately that inspired this! Let me know what y’all think!

Satoru Gojo

gojo wouldn’t even realize you had a migraine until he had popped out to scare you from around the corner and you squealed as you turned your head; causing your head to throb

you groaned and rubbed your temples to try and soothe the ache

gojo instantly felt bad as he finally realized you had a migraine and pulled you into his arms

he rubbed the base of your neck to try and help before you pat him on the shoulder, telling him you were okay now

“I’m sorry, baby.” 

he would say as he placed his thumbs where yours used to be

“I just need to lay down in a dark room for a while,: 

you say as you give him a reassuring smile

“then here, you need this more than I do,” as he takes off his blindfold and puts it over your eyes instead

you smile at his helpfulness and let him tie it around your head

“better?” 

“mhmm,”

“follow me,” 

and you do

he leads you to the bedroom and lays you down in the bed, nice and comfy

“stay here, darling,” he whispers as he leaves a small kiss on your forehead

he comes back with an icepack, some medicine, and some water

he tells you to sit up, slowly, and helps you with the pils, since you still can’t see anything

and makes you finish the water before laying you back down

“can you see any light?”

“not really,”

“good,”

and a cold icepack is placed onto your head and you sigh in relief

“let me know if you need anything else, I’ll be in the living room,”

“okay, thank you, gojo.”

“anything for my baby.”

Yuji Itadori

Yuji is the nervous one

Yuji is the nervous one

he’s afraid he’s too loud or he’s making too much noise in the kitchen

basically, he’s never sure if he’s helping or not whenever you have a migraine

so, when you get a migraine while out on a date night with him, his first thought is how fast they can make it home without hurting you

“Yuji, I’m fine, really I could stick it out another hour or so,” you try to reason, but he’s already calling the waiter over to get the check and boxes for your food

“No, it’s not fine, we need to get home and get you better, y/n,” he states as he bounces his leg nervously and calls for a taxi to come to pick them up in 5 minutes

he didn’t want you to subject yourself to more pain by sitting here any longer

“don’t worry, we’ll go home, I’ll draw you a nice bath and we’ll head to bed early so you wake up nice and healed!” he states as the waiter brings the check

Yuji tosses some cash in the book and starts to stand up, walking over to you to help you up as well

thankfully the cab was already here and the 15 minute walk turns into a 6 minute drive 

Yuji helps you into the house and immediately starts rushing around to grab all the items he knew he needed for the bath

‘rosemary oil. rosemery oil, rosemary oil,” he repeats as he searches the cabinets for the oil

“slow down, Yuji, you’re making my head spin with how fast you’re walking around,”

he looks at you worriedly and you bring your arms to wrap around his neck, giving him a small kiss,

“I’m gonna get a change of clothes and I’ll meet you in the bathroom for that bath you promised,” you say before leaving the room

Yuji gathers the items for the bath and starts the hot water, pours in a few drops of the rosemary oil, pours some rose smelling bubbles, lights a few candles and the bath is almost halfway done

you enter the bathroom with some towels and two pairs of clothes and Yuji gives you a weird look

“a perfect way to end our date night? don’t you think?” you say with a small smile 

Yuji smiles as well before turning off the water

you both undress and fumble to fit into the bath, but miraculously you both are able to squeeze together

there’s not a lot of room, but it feels nice

the hot water, oils, bubbles, and the man you love holding you in his arms as he scrubs your head with shampoo

Megumi Fushiguro

megumi would know instantly

he was observant and he knew when you weren’t feeling good, so if you were trying to hide this from him, nice try

he would call you out for it if you were trying to work or do chores around the house

“y/n, why don’t you lay down before you pass out.”

“I’m fine, megumi, really,” even you didn’t believe yourself that much, but deadlines are coming up and you were determined to finish

“you’re not fine. you need to rest,” 

“I took some pain pills and I have water, so I should be fine in a bit,”

megumi watches as you walk away from him and close the door to your office to finish your work 

he sighs and goes back to reading his book, figuring in about 5 minutes he’ll go in there and force you to rest

after 5 minutes he gets up and opens your office door, ready to convince you that you were being stupid and to prioritize your health more

he found you with your head face down in your binder and a blanket over your head

“y/n?”

“Megumiiiii, it hurts so muchhhh,”

you complain as you feel him standing next to you

Megumi wants to laugh at how easy it was to convince you but decides to hold it in and just let out a small smile

“i know, let’s get you to bed, okay?” 

you don’t fight him as he spins the chair to face him and pick you up with your legs wrapped around his torso

he carries you to the shared bedroom and sits you down on the bed

you immediately crawl under the blankets and try to get comfortable, but have some trouble doing so

“megumi, will you lay with me?” 

“course.”

he climbs in next to you and allows you to cuddle into him however you deem fit and let out a content sigh once you find the perfect position on his shoulder

“comfortable?”

“very,”

“good, get some rest, love.”

Kento Nanami

nanami knew how horrendous your migraines would get and would help you in every way he knew how

in fact, when you first started dating and he saw just how bad it got, he started doing research and reading articles about how he could help ease the pain 

would also probably tell you to go see a doctor or schedule a procedure to get them to be less of a pain

anywaysss

he was at work all day when you had acquired the migraine

you did what you always did and climbed into bed in a dark room, ice pack on the forehead, heating pad on the neck, water bottle full and with ice, and prescribed pills already in your system

still, after hours it maybe went from a 10 to a 9.5

you were starting to feel nauseous and before you knew it, you were in the bathroom puking and your head was throbbing so hard you couldn’t hear anything besides that noise

so you didn’t hear when nanami opened the front door to your apartment 

he sets his bag down but hears the distinct sound of someone throwing up and he’s immediately searching for the bathroom

seeing your figure weakly leaning over the toilet bowl made him frown as he started to loosen his tie and roll up his sleeves 

he rubbed your shoulders comfortingly and moved your hair (if your hair is long enough) out of the way as you continue to vomit

“welcome home, nanami,” you greet him as you stop puking

“another migraine?” he asks and you nod slowly

“take a hot shower and I’ll take care of you tonight,”

you don’t respond, but in your mind, you agree as he helps you onto your feet

he brings you a change of clothes and some peppermint essential oil to pour into the tub when the shower starts

you shower, change, and bask in the hot steam and peppermint oil smell before finally leaving the bathroom, feeling much cleaner than before

nanami has a new icepack and more water on the side of the table before he motions for you to sit in front of him

you follow his orders and sit criss-cross with your back facing him

he moves his finger along your scalp, rubbing in small gentle circles, applying pressure on the temples and the bottom of the scalp 

you’re in heaven as he gives you a head massage fit for the gods

you’re practically asleep as he removes his hands from your head and instead moves to lean you back into his chest

he makes sure you’re comfortable before he starts tracing your face with his fingers, applying small pressure to relieve the tension

“what would I do without you, nanami?” you mumble somewhat incoherently and nanami just smiles before kissing the crown of your head.

[hobbitsnapes]

YOU GUYS ARE DATING

Corpse x MGK!sister reader

(Found this image on Pinterest so all credit goes to artist, if you know who it is please comment below so I can credit them)

A/N: this was requested by @heyitssab

Tree is tall of sex in this, but it’s more in a joking matter, plus corpse has stated he doesn’t mind as long as you are not a minor or send or tag him. I’m literally 2 years younger than him, and have no intentions of ever tagging him or sending him any of my work XD

Summary: how many idiots does it take to tell the brother and friend they’re dating? Apparently takes 2 very forgetful people, who kept their relationship secret without knowing it.

It had just been by chance, a small chance that he had been scrolling through his tags. liking and reposting art, when he saw a tag from someone he followed. He wrecked his brain for when he had followed her, coming up empty. She was cute, no denying the beauty she had as she laughed in the video. It was a clip from a stream that he didn’t know she had, as he couldn’t even remember her name, wearing his merch as it fit her snug. It fit her perfectly in fact, the large hood covering her face, hiding the flush to her face from her rather large chuckles that left her body. He couldn’t help but like the photo, and he couldn’t help but to press message either.

It was first only small likes to posts, an Occasional message, and a view on their livestreams, but that all changed when he spoke of the song he was working on with her older brother.

It all started that night, when both lay in their beds as they talked, laughed, and felt their hearts flutter each time they heard one another speak.

Her phone rang violently in her bag, nearly making her drop the to go bag all over the ground as she walked. “Hello?” She asked, as she held both bags with her hands as her shoulder gripped the phone as if it’d fall down a cliff. “Hey bug!” He exclaimed, making her chuckle as she heard the booming sound of his voice. She had always detested the nickname, as he gave it to her as kids due to her horrendous fear of the creatures. But, it brought more joy to her, as it reminded her of their youth. Having been adults for years, it was fun to hear such a childish name that’s stuck.

“Hey mopey.” She chuckled, as that was the name she gave him when he was in his emo phase that he never outgrew.

Both talked as she walked towards the elevator, mainly about how his day had gone as she silently listened.

She had always been this way, always the shyer of the two, the one to listen to others first before she said a word. He had teased her for it most of their childhood and teen life, but he had grown to love it, as he could let loose or rant to her about anything, and he knew she’d be there just to listen to him.

“So what’re you doing right now?” He asked, as she got into the elevator. “Just grabbed some dinner a few minutes before you called and nearly made me shit.” A smile painted on her face at his boisterous laughter.

“Are you at home?” He asked, as he heard the sound of the elevator beeping in the background. “No, I’m spending the night with my boyfriend.”

She had mentioned about a month prior that she was seeing someone, the joy it brought him to hear the excitement and joy in her tone as she gushed about their first date.

If this was 7 or 8 years prior, he would be bombarding her with questions about the man, who he was, where he lived, where he could meet him to find his intentions with his baby sister. But, in the last few years, he found himself feeling calmer whenever she’d mentioned her love life. He knew she was smart, and would never date a man who treated her poorly. The few breakups she had, they always ended amicably, her head still high as she told him. So, he never asked her any questions about the man, as he could tell from the few times she mentioned him, he could feel the love this man had for her, and Vice versa.

The strong barreling of her phone alerted them awake, both groaning out as she reached for her phone without lifting her head from his shoulder. “Hello?” She mumbled, voice slurred as the saliva was thick in her mouth, barely awake as she fought to listen in on who dares to wake them up.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, making her equally exhausted lover groan. She shifted off of him, laying on her back as he turned away from her, as to hopefully shut his eyes and fall back asleep. She was used to her brother's large voice, as it hardly phased her after growing up with him. “Colson, why are you calling me this ungodly hour?” “Oh come on, it’s not that early.” “Col its-“ She pulled her phone from her ear, eyes shutting violently as the bright light blinded her “5 o’clock in the morning. So again, I’m going to ask you, why did you call me at the asscrack of dawn?” “You don’t remember?” He asked, making her irritation grow. “No, that’s why I’m asking.” She says, as she rubbed her sleep crusted eyes. “You were coming up today to hang out with casie, remember?” Her hand stopped rubbing her face, as she felt her heart stop momentarily. “Wait, you mean today? I thought I was coming Friday?” “No, both of you settled on today, remember I told you that’s perfect because I have a day off?” She felt her heart pain as she heard the sadness in his tone, knowing he’s expecting her to bail. “Yeah sorry, I thought you meant Friday so I mixed it up, let me get ready and I’ll be out the door okay? Love you” she said, as she hung up the line.

Before she could even move, she felt his arm wrap around her body. A tired groan leaving his lips. “Nooo stayyyy.” He groaned, pulling her body to his. She smiled as she looked down at him, wrapping her arm on his chest and the other behind his neck. “I wish I could live, but I can’t.” Planting a soft kiss against his lips. “Stay in bed for a few more hours, please?” Her heart pulled at his tone, hearing just how tired he was. “I can’t, casies wanted me to come up for weeks now. And it takes a good 3 hours to get there. I wanna spend as much time as I can with them before it gets dark so I can get back safely.” He groaned at this, wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah but it’s only 5, it wouldn’t be safe to drive since we went to bed like, 2 hours ago.” “Yeah, and whos fault was that mister?” She teased, “hmm, sorry but I just couldn’t keep my hands to myself after not seeing you for a few days.” He mused, pulling her body closer to his, planting his lips against hers. A small hum left her lips as he pulled her thigh over his, grabbing the flesh harshly as their lips cascaded together. “Mm, no no no, you’re not gonna convince me to stay here just to go another round.” She said, as she got off from his warm body, throwing his large hoodie over her bare body. “Oh come on babe, are you sure about that?” He said, making her turn around to him. A small gasp left her lips as her eyes took in his milky white complexion. His honey brown eyes looking back at her with a small smile etched onto his face. His hair a tousled mess that resembled a bird's nest, some pieces falling onto his face. “Honey, I’ve been wanting to see my family for weeks now, I see you almost everyday and practically live here. I’ll be back tomorrow so I can grab more clothes from my place okay?” She placed a kiss to his lips, both holding one another in their arms. “I don’t know why you don’t just say fuck that place and just move in.” He mumbled, making her chuckle and heart warm. “Don't you think it’s a little soon though? I mean we’ve only been together a few months love.” “Yeah, but you’ve practically lived here since we got together, you literally just go there to get more clothes that you end up leaving here.” She looked into his eyes as she thought about his words. “Hm, I’ll think about it today okay?” She mused, planting a kiss to his lips. A soft okay leaving him as she got up.

“And babe, remember if you live here, we can have all the sex we want and not have to worry about driving to get one another.” He exclaimed, laughing at the loud honey she screamed from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help but laugh out as she watched, as her niece tried her hardest to braid her fathers grown out hair. It was near impossible not to, as pieces would fall out, resulting in her pulling them harsher, nearly pulling his eyelids back due to the tension from his temples. “Okay okay you’re gonna fuckin scalp me.” He chuckled , as all three bursted out in large laughter.

“So how’s school going this year?” She asked her, as she delicately painted her nails. Both of the girls had found themselves on the floor in front of the nice coffee table, as colson sat and chatted with them. “It’s going really well.” “Oh yeah? Make any new friends?” She teased. “I mean, kinda.” She couldn’t help but hear the wavering in her tone, spotting the faint blush dusting her skin. “Ohh, so there’s a someone eh?” She teased to her, making the preteen hide her face as to conceal the flush. “His names Garrett, and we both take social studies together. He always sits next to me at lunch, and we’ll draw on my notebook.” She gushed, making her smile. “Soo, do you think he likes you?” “I mean, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” “Yeah well don’t worry about it to much cas, you’re not dating anyone for many more years. You’re still a kid.” Her das said, making the young girls face fall.

Y/N knew he was only saying this to protect her, as he said the same thing to her growing up. “Hey, don’t be bummed out about it. He is right, you both are only 12 and should focus on school. But don’t worry, he’ll come around. He was just like that with me up until my current boyfriend.” She whispered, making the young girl chuckle.

“Speaking of which, how are you guys doing?” He asked, as she hadn’t mentioned hun to her in a while. He didn’t think it’d hurt to ask. “Great actually, we’re thinking of moving in together actually.” “That’s great! I’m really happy that y’all met.” “Yeah, I am too.” She hummed, a flush dusting her cheeks.

Both men laughed as they chatted on the phone, talking about anything that would come to mind. What was once only a collaboration for a song, turned into an amazing friendship that caused both of them to call at late hours just to shoot the shit.

A yawn left his lips, as he listened to colson ramble on about another song he was making. “Woah, you tired man?” Colson asked, shocked to hear the sound. “Yeah sorry, was up most of the night last night.” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Were you feeling alright?” He asked, worry laced in his tone. He knew all about his friends illnesses, even once being on the other end of the phone during a bad spell one day.” “Oh yeah yeah yeah, was just, up with the misses last night.” He chuckled, a flush blooming on his cheeks. “Ohhh yeah? And how was it?” This shocked him, nearly feeling his heart stop. Like, does he usually know about his sisters sex life? He didn’t think much of it, as he knew just how close both were. “It was absolutely fucking amazing. Like I thought we’d be done for the night, fully tapped out but after like 5 minutes she’d be right back on me for another round.” He chuckled, his flush even worse than before. “Ayyyeee good for you corpse, glad to hear that puss is bussin.” He laughed at this, throwing his head back. “Yeah, it’s bussin bussin.”

Both men talk as they read from their phones, eyes wide in absolute awe of the love they received from the song. They had just dropped it a few days prior, not expecting the cry of joy from both fan bases.

He didn’t even look up from it when she walked in, until she bent down to plant a kiss to his forehead. “Sorry I had completely forgot about the tea I made you an hour ago, but I put it back on the stove to heat it up so if it’s twisting funky just tell me okay?” Before he could even thank her, both their heads whipped towards the loudness from the other line. “Y/N? Is that you? What in the hell are you doing there with corpse!” He didn’t sound angry, more shocked than anything, both of them looking at the phone in confusion. “I, I love here? Remember I told you like a month ago I was moving in with him?” “WHAT!” Both jumped at the loud scream. “Wait so you guys are dating!?” Both we’re even more perplexed, until it dawned on both of them. Their eyes wide as they turned their heads to one another slowly. “Wait you didn’t tell him?” “No? He’s one of your best friends so I thought you did!” “He’s your brother! So I thought you did!” Both whisper, until all three lay silent. That was until, the large cry of laughter that leaves the two, leaving colson even more confused. He wasn’t mad, not at all actually. More shocked and confused than anything. Until he started thinking, it does make sense, all the times they spoke about one another without him knowing, all the times they mentioned-“OH GOD!” He yelled, gagging violently, making them stop their laughing fit. “What's wrong? Why are you yelling?” She asks “like a month ago corpse was talking about how he was tired cause he was up all night having sex AND I HAD NO IDEA HE WAS TALKING ABOUT YOU! OH GOD WAS THAT WHY YOU WERE LIMPING THAT DAY WITH CAS AND I!” Both laugh even harder, as they listen to his ever growing gags.

“So yeah,. That’s literally how we had no idea we were keeping the relationship secret from her brother.” He laughed, as he red the comments and listened to his friends' laughter. She sat beside him, head laying on his shoulder as he told the story. She couldn’t help but to look back up into his eyes, as he glanced down at her, planting a soft kiss to her lips. “Keep it pg guys.” Colson said from the other line, making them chuckle.

[citrineghost]

Struggling to stay organized because you have ADHD?

Well, I have a fantastic solution for you! There’s this bitchin site called Trello and I’m gonna tell you all about it

This is not sponsored, I just really like organization and Trello is awesome. And, as always, no readmore because this is targeted at ADHD people and y’all ain’t gonna click it

[ID: a picture of a website with many columns/lists. Behind the lists, there is a customized background. To the right is a sidebar showing that you can search Unsplash for backgrounds right from the site. Each column/list has a bunch of ‘cards’ on it. The cards each have a title and color coded label(s) /end ID)

Here’s a picture of my to-do board

There are some things blacked out, mostly just my avatar, name, and some original creative stuff I don’t feel like broadcasting.

So, Trello is broken up into different levels of organization. Let’s start with the most important level: boards.

Boards

A board is what’s pictured above. Think of it like a corkboard where you pin your notes. You can make as many of these as you want. You can title them, invite people to them, automate certain parts of them, and more.

On your board, you can make

Lists

Lists are those columns you can see on my board. You can title each list, click and drag them around to reorder them, set them to automatically label the things on them, and so on.

My lists on my to do board are titled with a time period for when I aim to do something. The time periods are large and vague, which makes them great for my ADHD. I can move things between them as I need, which is also great for my ever shifting brain thoughts. 

But! What makes it great is that whatever I put in the left list, titled Next, I know is what I need to be focusing on at the moment. It makes it easier to ignore what’s to the right of it and let’s me relax knowing I won’t just forget everything I’m not prioritizing.

Lists are used for holding

Cards

(ID: A picture of a small window that opens after clicking on a card. It contains the title, the labels (with their names now visible), and a functioning checklist. There is also a place to type a description, a place to add comments, and a list of buttons on the side for managing the card and its place on the board /end ID)

Each card can be as simple as containing just a title (making it a simple entry on your list), or as complicated as housing photos, descriptions, checklists, labels, and comments. You just click the card and it opens the window shown above.

My card is for a tabletop I’m working on, nicknamed TAP. I have it labeled with all of the things pertaining to what it involves (world building, writing, in progress, spreadsheeting, and art/creative). These color coded labels make it easy to see what kind of cards I’m looking at when looking at the overall board and lists.

As I do things on the checklist, I can mark them off. You can even set it to hide completed items on the checklist.

When I’m done with an item on my to do list, I click and drag the card to the Done list (which is offscreen on the far right). If you don’t want a visible Done list, you can also just archive a card and it will disappear from the board.

You can also set due dates on cards, which will notify you when they’re almost due or when the due date arrives.

Customization

One of my favorite things about Trello is that you can customize the appearance of your boards! My ADHD brain can’t stand looking at the same thing constantly, so it’s great that I can change things up. Each board can have its own design too, so you can match the vibes of the board with the appearance.

You can pick from a bunch of solid colors for your board or you can use the connection Trello has with Unsplash to search and select free stock images provided by photographers.

Other Parts of Organization

Not only do you have boards, lists, and cards, you can also make Workspaces, which are basically categories to sort your boards into. If you use Trello for projects, and have a board for each project, you can sort your boards into a Projects workspace.

There is also a function called Butler, which you can use to automate boards. For example, you can set it to automatically create a card called “Pay Rent” at the start of each month.

On the right, in the same sidebar where you can see the background options, there’s also an activity feed, tracking every time a card is moved, commented on, added, archived, and so on.

Team Work

Not only is Trello great for keeping private boards, you can also invite people to them! That makes it incredible for household management, group projects, or even friend groups who feel like storing plans and personalized memes. You can literally use it for whatever you want and in whatever way you want!

ADHD Applications

So, now let’s get down into the specifics of how this is great for people with ADHD.

You can make as many boards, lists, and cards as you want.

This is a big one for me, because I really struggle with websites that limit how much you can do with one account and force you to make multiples and then juggle multiple logins and so on. Start a new project? Make a new board. Follow your heart. Be free. If you end up giving up on it, just delete it, or store it for later. You can Star the boards you actively use and just use the Star list to access the boards you need, so if you star all your active ones and then ignore the unstarred, failed projects, you can leave them to rot or abandon them until the mood strikes again.

You can organize in a way that works for you.

So many organization applications are made to work one way and that can be really difficult to navigate as someone with ADHD. So many people with ADHD have such specific needs in regards to how they organize that it can be really hard to find something that works. Half the time we end up just scrambling around from application to application, cursing them as we go because one has one thing we like, but it doesn’t have the thing this other one has that we like and nothing ever seems to just work.

Trello makes it possible to personalize how you organize and even change how you organize halfway through. I keep my to do list organized in 4 priority levels with the addition of a Pin list and a Done list. You could also:

Keep a list that works as a calendar, with a card for each entry, organized in order of date

Keep a list of reminders where automated weekly/monthly/yearly responsibilities pop up

Jot down reminders as you think of them

Keep lists of school assignments in the order they’re due

Use descriptions and photo uploads on cards to collect information or resources needed for said assignments

Keep lists of information that’s easy to forget or lose track of on paper like address history, work history, references, contact information, and so on (like I’ve done on my ‘Pin’ list)

Use boards for projects, to keep track of things like resources, due dates, meeting times, sending files between classmates or project partners, and so on

Use boards for planning events like weddings, parties, conferences, school dances, or whatever else you’re into

Collect resources, references, or recreational to-dos (like links to fanfiction you want to read)

Literally anything

You can separate everything onto different boards, making everything visible from the titles of cards, or combine it all into one, with lots of information available on a click

The sky’s the limit

You can automate repeat tasks.

ADHD comes with a lot of forgetfulness when it comes to regular tasks, such as weekly appointments, medication reminders, and a yearly charge for your Nintendo membership. You can put that stuff into your calendar, but that can also be tricky because then you have information spread across multiple platforms.

Just as easily, you can set Butler to make new cards with reminders on them.

There’s probably more but I have ADHD and I forgot

Just think of the possibilities!!

I used to get debilitatingly stressed out because I would have 10 things floating around in my head because I was simultaneously trying not to forget them and also stressing about them and I would make what I call “spaghetti lists” where I would list all the things I’m thinking of, just as a way to calm down and know that I won’t forget them, so that my brain could quiet down.

Since starting this board, I haven’t had to do that once because all of the things I’m afraid of forgetting are already listed, even if they’re on the list titled ‘ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ‘ because idk if they’re ever actually gonna happen.

It can be incredibly stressful to see all of your to do items in one place, but since starting this, I have been less stressed overall, because I now know I can find them all in that one place. Learning to manage and cope with the stress of knowing I have a lot to do is easier than forgetting things and then realizing I’m late on something or things just never happening because I never remember them when I’m in a place where I can work on them.

And when you have everything in one place to reference when you have some executive energy, you can suddenly just start doing things. I have them labeled by type so I can go, “I’m in the mood to draw,” and then check all the dark blue labels for creative projects. It makes everything so much easier.

Anyway, I hope this is helpful to some of you, it’s genuinely been life changing for me

[forever-rogue]

Only You (A Good Man)

A/N: Hello my sunshines! I’m back with another little installment of the AGM ‘verse with our favorite Javi and Dulzura! I love them so much and I’m glad y’all do too! This is just some sweetness - enjoy!  As always, comments and feedback are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged let me know! Xx

*can be read as a standalone or part of the ‘verse as a whole*

Pairing: Professor! Javi x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: language, smut (18+ only!)

A GOOD MAN ‘VERSE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

JAVIER MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Dulzura?” Javier’s voice sounded concerned as he walked in the door and was immediately greeted by a large sigh from the dining room. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his briefcase by the door, pausing for a moment to reach down and pet Stevie. A quiet slew of curses met his ears as he padded down the hall to find you. 

He paused in the doorway, leaning against it as a small smile crossed his features. You were sitting at the head of the table, papers and fabric samples and flowers all around you. Your hands were threaded in your hair as you stared at everything with an exasperated expression. Even if you hadn’t heard him come in, you easily sensed your fiancé’s presence and looked up to meet his soft brown eyes. Tension seemed to leave your body at the sight of your lover as he strode over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Humming slightly, he looked around at everything that appeared to be the bane of your existence as he realized this was all for the wedding. 

“Hi Javi,” you relaxed ever so slightly as his large, skilled hands massaged your aching shoulders. Biting your lip, it became a herculean task to hold back your moans as he worked on easing the knots that had been plaguing you, “fuck Javi.”

“Normally you save that for-”

“Shut up!” you jokingly groaned as you put your hands on top of his and gave them a small squeeze, “such a cocky bastard.”

“And yet you’re marrying me,” you turned to face him but before you could do anything else, he captured your lips with his in a soft, saccharine kiss. That was definitely the best, and his favorite, way to get you to relax. 

“I’m starting to question that,” you huffed when he pulled back, a confused expression crossing his features. His heart instantly felt like it was about to burst out of his chest as he stared at you; sometimes this still all felt like some sort of fever dream and you weren’t actually real. Like you were a figment of imagination that he used to cope with the reality of everyday life. But then...you were there to welcome him home with open arms every night. You were there, warm, soft, and gentle next to him every morning; sometimes you even woke him with gentle touches and kisses. You were here now, in his hands, literally and metaphorically, the ring on your left hand catching the light perfectly as he grounded himself and forced himself to remember that this was all real. 

You noticed the momentarily distressed look on his face and shook your head, “oh, Javier, no! You know I didn’t mean it like that, my love. If there is one thing in this world I am sure about - it’s you. I just...I don’t know about all of these wedding planning. It’s starting to drive me crazy.”

“I feel like I haven’t helped,” he sighed as you slammed the book of cake photos shut and pushed it away and quickly stood up. Javier wasted no time in wrapping you up in his arms as you buried your face into his neck and inhaled his familiar scent; an instant sense of comfort and relaxation washed over you, “I’m sorry for not being more helpful. I’ll make more of an effort - this isn’t all your job.”

“It’s just...who knew that planning a wedding takes this much time and effort,” you groaned as you thought about all the plans you still needed to finalize and settle. It seemed like a task akin to an odyssey and you weren’t sure if it would ever come together, “all this trouble - and for what? One day of celebration for the people in our lives? To prove to them that we love each other?”

“It’s still months and months away,” the ex-DEA tried his best to reassure you as you just huffed with a bout of sarcastic laughter in his shoulder. He’d been through a lot of shit - seen even more - and yet none of that seemed as daunting as planning a wedding. Needless to say, he hadn’t played a big part in planning his first wedding, the one that had never happened thanks to him. It was all for the best, he’d come to realize over, because all of this had led him to you. He kissed your cheek, “we’ll get it all done.”

“I hope so,” you groaned lightly, deciding to push the thought of more planning out of your head; at least for this evening, “come on baby, let’s go out tonight, what do you say? I want a break from all of this, and I’m sure you’re just as tired.”

“Sounds perfect,” he beamed at you, “how about I take my wife to her favorite restaurant and then a movie?”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” you grinned at him before gently kissing his nose, “only one problem…”

“Oh?”

“I’m not your wife - not quite yet,” you reminded him as he just responded with a hearty laugh, “and who knows when it will be at this rate!”

“Relax, Dulzura,” he whispered as he held you close, “it will happen in time, just as it was meant to, I promise.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Fuck,” you could barely hold back your moan, biting on your bottom lip so hard you were sure it would bleed any moment as Javier buried himself between your legs. He hummed in content as you reached down and hand a hand through his hair, scratching at his scalp, “Javier, right there - please.”

“Always taste so good,” he whispered as he pulled back for a moment and kissed along your thigh; you were so close, and he knew exactly what he was doing - getting you closer and closer and then drawing out your orgasm. Sometimes you could kill him for doing so, but tonight it felt just right. He licked up your soaked folders, nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a man starving, “just like fucking candy.”

“Jesus,” your eyes snapped shut as he added in two fingers, curling them just right to find your sweet spot. He moved his free hand to your hips as he tried to keep you still as you writhed under him, “so close, Javi.”

“Then you need to cum for me,” he insisted with a wicked smirk you could feel against your skin, “come on baby.”

“No, no, no,” you tugged lightly on hair, pulling his face away and causing him to look at you in confusion, “want you inside of me - want you to cum in me.”

“Shit,” he made a low, almost visceral sound as he hastily worked to pull off his jeans and threw them into the heap that contained your clothes. You reached for him and brought him up to your lips, kissing him as though your life depended on it, making it a point to leave marks that everyone would see, letting the world know he was yours. He moaned into your mouth as he lined himself up at your entrance before slowly pushing in. His eyes closed as your tight, warmness hugged him perfectly, “fuck, you feel so perfect - always do.”

“I love you,” you whispered softly at him, as he buried his face into your chest, “only you, Javier.”

"I love you, Dulzura," he kissed along your jaw as he set a languid, slow pace, hitting it right with every thrust. You reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him down to your lips and you could practically feel him smiling against you as he worked to pull small moans. And then - it hit him.

"Let's get married tomorrow."

"W-what?" it was somewhere between shock and a moan as Javier rolled his hips in a particularly deep thrust. He pulled back slightly and judging by the look in his soft brown eyes, you could see he meant it. This wasn't just some spur of the moment thing he'd decided on in the throws of passion. 

He slowly switched positions so he was lying on his back and you were on top. The newfound angle made your eyes almost roll back as he stared at you in reverence. His large hands found purchase on your hips as you slowly bounced on his cock. His hips moved in time with yours, "I mean it. Let's just get married - fuck. Want to call you my wife already."

"Javier," you looked down at him with searing intensity before leaning down to kiss him. You could feel him start to twitch within you as your velvety walls started to clamp down on him, "I'm gonna-"

But you didn’t get a chance to say anything else as your orgasm washed over you, and nothing but soft mewls and moans spilled from your lips as you kissed him. Javi was close behind, filling you up with his hot cum, as he pulled you down to body and held you tightly. 

The two of you stayed like that for some, trying to catch your breath and slow your racing heart as he continued to kiss you silly. It was such a tender thing, but so sweet and intimate that you never wanted it to end. 

Once you came down from your high, you pulled back and grinned at him, nuzzling your nose against his before kissing him again. 

“Did you mean it?” you asked him gently as a grin spread across his features and he nodded slowly, “you really want to skip the whole wedding and just go and get married at the city hall?”

“Mhmm,” he promised, “planning a wedding...it’s so much stress and time, and for what? Other people? We already know we love each other and we’re not going anywhere, what does it matter? This is for us.”

“Our families will be pissed,” you laughed as he just scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, “but they’ll get over it. I love you, Javier - and nothing would make me happier than being your wife. Let’s do it.”

“You’re sure?” he put his hand on your cheek as you nodded, “I don’t want you to do this and then regret it. If you want a big wedding, I’ll get you the biggest fucking wedding you could want.”

“I just want you,” you beamed at him, running a hand through his dark curls, “just you. Maybe we can have a big barbecue or something later once it’s all said and done. Besides, the whole thing just seems overrated, you know?”

“You’re perfect,” he whispered as you rolled off of him and stood up, nodding towards the bathroom. He wasted no time getting up, knowing exactly where this was going, “you’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

“Hmm,” you mused thoughtfully before sticking your tongue out at him, “there’s one more thing I want to tell you.”

“Go on…” he quirked an eyebrow before you began pulling him into the bathroom and pointing at the small trash can. He studied it for a moment before realizing what was at the top, “really?”

“Uh huh honey,” you grinned and kissed his cheek as you glanced at the birth control that was placed on top, “we’d talked about it and said after the new year we could...try but not try. And well...I’m ready if you are, Javi.”

“I love you,” he looked back at you with wide, soft brown eyes. The ones you’d loved for what seemed like an eternity now, “fuck...yes. I want this, all of it - with you.”

“Me too,” you grinned back at him, “me too, Javier. You are the best man, and nothing you say or do will ever change that.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

"Baby," Javier poked his head down the hall as he looked at his watch. There wasn't even a time you had to be at city hall or anything but he was...nervous. Gods, he was so nervous. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd ever felt like this before. He hadn't.

"Almost done, Javier," you called back to him as you finished putting your earrings in and turning back to your mirror. You let out a breath as you looked yourself over; your whole body was trembling with anxious energy. But you'd dressed the part and were happy with how you looked - you hoped Javi would like it too, although you could have worn an old potato sack and he would have called you beautiful. A creak from the floorboards caught your attention as you laughed, "no peeking, my love! Its bad luck to see the bride before the wedding!"

"Are you planning on keeping me blindfolded on the drive? Are you going to drive Miss Gets Lost in Our Neighborhood?" you could practically hear the smile in his voice as you sighed dramatically. You finished off your hair before slowly opening the door.

"Close your eyes!" you insisted for just a moment before moving into the hall and stopping in front of him. Reaching over, you slowly grabbed his hand and held it tightly in yours, "alright. You can open!"

And he opened them ever so slowly as soft brown eyes studied you with intense scrutiny.

"Wow," he was almost speechless as a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth.

"Is it too much?" you asked as your cheeks warmed up, suddenly wondering if you'd made some sort of mistake and gone too far. Javi beamed at your with a fervent shake of his head as he pulled your towards him, lips ghosting over yours as he tried not to mess up your lipstick.

"You look absolutely beautiful," he promised, "I must be the luckiest man in the world."

"Now you're just being dramatic. You clean up pretty well yourself, handsome," you laughed at his praise, but relished in it nonetheless. You'd picked this particular green dress on the whim that he might like it. It had been hanging in your closet for some time, and you'd never had the occasion to wear it before. What better day than your wedding day? He just sighed contentedly as you fixed a few stray hairs and straightened his tie. It was a simple black suit, but gods, he looked handsome as ever and it nearly made your hair stop, “ready?”

"Definitely," he promised as he slipped your hand into his and started to tug you towards the door, "you ready?"

"Almost! Hang on," taking a step back, you smiled as you held up your hands in the shape of a camera and pretended to snap a picture when he laughed, "I'm taking a mental picture - of my husband on our wedding day."

“Husband,” his smile was infectious - brighter than you had ever seen and you swore you fell a little more in love then and there, “I like the sound of that. Come on - let’s get married.”

“You know this doesn’t change anything between us, right?” you asked as he held the door open for you, “I’m still going to love you just as much. It’s just a piece of paper.”

“And yet...it feels right,” he shrugged as you made sure the rings were in his coat pocket as he opened the car door for you. On your seat was a beautiful bouquet of vibrant tulips in your favorite colors. A small sound of surprise left your lips as your eyes immediately stung with tears, “w-what? You don’t like them?”

“I love them,” you took them in your arms and clutched them to your chest, “they’re perfect. I love you - you didn’t need to do this, Javier.”

“I wanted to,” he insisted, with a kiss as he went to the driver’s side, “every bride needs some flowers on her wedding day.”

“Who knew you were such a sappy traditionalist?” you snorted as you climbed in, “big softie.”

“Cállate,” he jokingly shushed as he turned on the car and drove towards city hall. This was it - later this afternoon you’d officially be Javi’s wife - Mrs. Peña. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

"And do you, Javier Peña, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Javier grinned at you, his single dimple proudly on display. He slipped the simple golden band onto your finger, snugly next to your engagement ring. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you looked at the matching band on his finger.

"I do," he was confident; in all honesty he had never been this sure about anything else. 

"Then I pronounce you man and wife," the officiant nodded at the two of you before Javi leaned over and kissed you gently. 

It all felt so surreal - like you were going through everything in a daze. Javier's hand was holding onto yours, fingers laced together as you both signed the marriage certificate and received multiple congratulations from random strangers. It seemed like it all went by so fast, a blur as you became husband and wife.

Before you knew it, you were walking out of city hall and clutching onto his arm and giggling at something he said. Before you could get back in the car, Javier let go out of your hand and took a few steps back. You gave him a confused look before quickly realizing what he was doing; he held up his hands as he pretended to take a photo.

"First picture of my wife," his voice almost cracked as he watched you pose and hold up your flowers. He made a small sound in the back of his throat, "perfect."

"Javier," you threw your arms around him and held him tightly against you, burying your face into his neck, "I love you so much."

"I love you, Dulzura," kissing the side of your head, he picked you up and spun you around, "all mine forever."

"I was already yours forever," you promised him, "always - from the start."

"From the start?" he chuckled warmly as you nodded, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his new wedding band, "even when I was your professor?"

"Mhmm," you reached up and cupped his cheek gently, "even back then. First the first moment when I thought- oh no he's hot to when you got mad at me for coming into your office to when you got me the tea."

"Ahh," his hands found purchase on your face as he leaned into you, "back when I was a complete asshole."

"It only lasted for like fifteen minutes," you smiled against his lips, "and I was a goner. I've loved you for a long time, Javier, when I didn't realize it."

"Shit," closing his eyes, he gently pressed his lips against yours, "and to think I felt guilty about thinking you were beautiful when I first saw you."

"You did?!"

"Uh huh honey," he repeated your favorite phrase softly, "I couldn't get you off my mind for...well since then. Nothing's changed. I loved you then and still do. It was easy I think, to fall in love with you - it just happened."

"I love you," you whispered before pulling him in for a long saccharine kiss, "so much, Javier. You are everything. You have made me the happiest woman in the world."

"I love you," he repeated softly, his hands on both sides of your face as he studied you,  "mi alma, mi vida -  my wife."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: V

“I must admit, I thought I’d like to make you mine

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

— Only Angel, Harry Styles

A/N: this chapter...it was probably my fav to write, so far!!! i just adore these two clueless morons so much like i just can’t shut up about them. quite a bit happens in this part and it’s all to build that slow burn, friends to lovers shit we all know and love baYBEEEEE!!! and also The Crew make an appearance because hello we love to see it, we truly do 😌😌😌 especially the man, the myth, the legend, Mitch Rowland and honestly?? this is HIS chapter fuck vampirerry!!! but yeah i hope y’all like what’s in store for the Dynamic Duo this time around and remember that feedback is truly, madly, deeply™ appreciated! and if you enjoy it, please reblog it! spreading content keep creators motivated! without further delay, let’s dive in  😼  

harry’s condo : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist

word count: 34k 

content/warnings: witty banter, some nice fluff, jacuzzi sex, more fluff, a very testing phone call, some face f*cking, a soft shower, rough degradation, the return of The Handcuffs, an unexpected visit from The Three Stooges, more cheeky banter because that’s their brand, and the reveal of jealous asshole Harry 

///   

Y/N giddly accepts Harry’s offer to stay the weekend and the vampire can confidently say it’s one of the best he’s had in the last decade. 

He’d startled even himself when the suggestion had risen abruptly from his mouth, leaving him blinking blankly as a result. He rarely allows anyone to spend more than a day in his condo— his friends being the only exception— because he’s grown to like the quiet solitude that comes with living on his own. He very solemnly has people over whom he hasn’t known for at least a few years, and that rule is reinforced on stricter grounds when it comes to humans. Especially when the only true connection they could possibly carry to him is through the area between their legs. 

But Harry has become strangely fond of Y/N in the last four weeks— fond enough to freely refer to her as a friend and endeared enough to bypass the fact that she’s mortal. She just looks so unbelievably cute padding around his apartment barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of crumpled, sunflower-doodled panties and his Nike olive green jumper, her hair a mangled mess with traces of his cologne smeared across the bruised skin of her neck. Admittedly, it’s a sight he wants to see more often, which is a stab at his ego because he’s never been one to dwell on sentimentality— not for a while. It’s a bit cliche and gross, in his opinion, but when it comes to this one particular girl...well, maybe it’s not too bad. Indulging some soft pastimes can't do much damage, especially when it aids his plan to keep her interested until he himself grows bored. 

It can only do good, which is probably what had spurred him into asking her to extend her stay. For once, he found himself not craving his usual silent seclusion. Not when that self-imposed isolation could be filled with her loud laughter, warm lips, and sweet moans instead. 

And much to his satisfaction, Harry gets just that. 

For the next two days, the creature gets all of his needs and wants attended to, both recreational and intimate. Y/N seems to enjoy it thoroughly, as well, walking— or rather waddling, really, thanks to some of their raunchier activities— around his flat happily, constantly clad in a pair of his boxers and one of his graphic tees. He gets off on it— it’s hard not to, especially with the way she fits his clothes so effortlessly, almost as if she was made to fill them. Or the way the scent of his shampoo is combed through every strand of her hair, his smell slathered all over her as if she’s unconsciously trying to mark herself as his. Or the way new love bites cover the ones his blood had nearly faded, which she dotes shamelessly by pushing all her hair behind her shoulders so Harry can get a perfect view of every welt he’s left behind on her throat. Or the way she unapologetically giggles at all his jokes and crude humor, and how she paddles his witty banter right back at him with that clever gleam in her irises. 

He gets off on the way Y/N cuddles into him on the couch while they’re watching some mindless Food Network series, her body heat expelling the stiff coldness from his limbs. The way she kisses tenderly along the underside of his jaw, forefinger tracing over his Adam’s Apple teasingly, a smile spreading against his skin when she feels it bob heavily. The way she’ll sneak her hand between his thighs and palm him over his briefs, taking the shell of his ear between her teeth and hissing lowly when his cock twitches against her fingers, her voice soft as silk but heavy with dirty intentions. “Want to make you feel good again, H. Can I?” 

The human girl is a blessing, while simultaneously being a walking, talking sin, and the monster’s never been more willing to damn himself to Hell. And he would gladly do it, if he wasn’t already living it in the form of blood-driven eternity.

It’s an eventful weekend, that’s for sure, and despite the fact that they share an abundance of memorable moments, there are a few that Harry deems especially unforgettable. 

The jacuzzi sex sits at the top of that list. 

Y/N had practically squealed when she’d laid eyes on the glorified tub in his bathroom, pacing over to it excitedly and leaning down to run her fingers over the control panel along the rim. Her voice had come out whispered, full of child-like wonder. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Harry had walked over to stand beside her, his icy digits pressing on top of her warm own, finagling the buttons into his preferred settings. Hot water begins to shoot out of all the polished jets one by one, slowly filling the pool and covering the dark marble wrap-around ledge used as seating. The vampire quickly fetches the bag of lavender Epsom salts he keeps close by, scooping a couple handfuls into the frothing hot tub, along with pouring in a decent amount of jasmine bubble bath. 

His lips jolt when he catches Y/N eyeing the jacuzzi in awe, her hands clasped to her chest in delight as she teeters back and forth ever so slightly on her heels. The water shuts off once it reaches the appropriate level, leaving behind a thick, luxurious sheet of suds that smells of sugary florals and clean linen. The second the jets retract, Harry doesn’t even have time to make a comment before Y/N begins stripping down hurriedly, obviously restless to take on this new experience. 

Harry spontaneously jerks to the side out of habit, averting his sight to allow her some privacy. His tone is soft and amused. “Clean towels are in the hamper along the other side of the tub.” He signals blindly towards where he knows the basket is situated. “Call me back in when you need help with the shower knobs. And don’t—”

The immortal spots something streak across his peripheral vision, cocking his head a bit just in time to see her flower-print panties toss onto the tiled floor. He rolls his eyes playfully, scoffing to himself at the innocence of the article. It matches her persona perfectly. 

He hears a splash crack through the air behind him, meaning that Y/N has submerged herself in the water and that it is now safe for him to turn around without threatening her decency. However, he doesn’t think she’d mind if he did and he finds himself wondering why he’d looked away in the first place. The answer comes to him simply: it was a residual mannerism from the era he was raised in. His default Victorian etiquette can be so fucking annoying sometimes. 

He spins around on his socked heels, lean arms folding casually across his broad chest, naked tattoos glinting under the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. He slinks his head to the side, entertained at the view he finds. Y/N is sitting amidst the blanket of pink bubbles, covered up to her shoulders as she cups soap into her palms, blowing at it and watching the suds float across the air before popping. The adorable smile that breaks across her face makes Harry’s stomach flutter. 

The vampire steps forward to catch her attention, leaning a hip against the edge of the tub and pursing his lips to hide an adoring grin. The corners of his mouth betray him as soon as Y/N looks up at him, hair slicked back with water and bubbles, matted to the sides of her neck and across her jaw as she beams up at him. 

“Your place is literally an adult playground.” The human states wistfully, her arms floating across the surface of the bath as she drifts closer to him, creating more suds. “You’re gonna have to get me kicked out tomorrow ‘cause I’m not leaving on my own.” 

Harry snorts, ducking down and wiping some soap off the tips of her eyelashes. “I don’t think security detail was part of the lease, so I might have to do it myself.”

“I can easily take you.” Y/N remarks jokingly, waving a hand dismissively. “Better make some space, I’m moving in next week.” 

“I’d say I would start clearing out my storage room for you,” Harry leans forward, ghosting his lips over hers and thumbing over the curve of her chin, batting his lashes sultrily, “but I think we both know you’d end up in my bed either way. Best leave it as is.” 

“Yeah,” Y/N momentarily glimpses down at his mouth, eyes glitzing with the slightest bit of hunger, “I think it's best if we just split the bed.” 

“Oh, we’ll definitely split the bed— split it right down the middle.” Harry grips her jaw firmly and locks her into a wet, sloppy kiss for a few elongated heartbeats, tugging at her bottom lip and biting it jestingly before pulling back. 

Y/N chases after him, craving more of his taste, but the boy draws back fully and pats at her cheek with smug finality. Her begrudging pout makes him release a boyish giggle. “Anyways, as I was saying before, my last rule: Don’t pee in the tub. Cleaning it is a bitch and that’s the last thing I want to deal with.” 

The mortal laughs airily, nodding her head in confirmation that she understands. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Thank you.” Her friend huffs, shoulders slumping dramatically in relief. Harry takes on a theatrical ominous edge, quirking his brows warningly. “Didn’t end well for the last person who did.” 

“Is that so?” Y/N inquires daringly, lowering herself deeper into the water until it covers her chin. “What happened? Did you have to take on the role of executioner again?”

Harry thinks back to that instance, shaking his head in amusement at the memory. It had been Niall— anything that has to do with testing his patience almost always leads to Niall— and to make a long story short, the Irish bloke had ended up having to regrow an ear. But he can’t necessarily confess that supernatural event to Y/N, no matter how funny it is, so he just shrugs offhandedly and gives her a dark look full of faux mystery, voice adopting the same affect. “I’ve already said too much.” 

The young woman casts her eyes up to the ceiling humorously. “Moron.” 

“Watch it, love.” Harry tuts, narrowing his eyes at her pointedly in an attempt to suppress the smirk that is about to stem from his next comment. “I’m not the one with the degradation kink here.” 

Y/N scrunches her face at him mockingly, trying to hide the way his quip had made her heart hiccup. She mimics his accent, sticking up her middle finger from beneath a mountain of rosy bubbles. “Piss off.” 

“Gladly.” Harry bites back cheekily in an American accent. He leans down, retrieving his Nike sweater and her underwear from the rumpled pile on the ground, his intentions set on taking them across the hall to the laundry room with the rest of her clothes. That way, her stuff will be nice and clean for when she needs it again Sunday night. “Just call if you need me, yeah?” 

Harry gets about three feet towards the door before Y/N’s soft voice halts him, piping up as gentle and timid as usual. “Wait…”

The vampire glances over his shoulder, eyebrows poised in question as he absentmindedly flips his jumper inside-out in anticipation for the wash. 

Y/N swims across the extent of the jacuzzi until she’s right in front of where he’d stopped, resting her forearms along the rim and plopping her chin atop her folded hands. She gazes up at Harry through her lashes and he can see the manner in which she shifts her footing beneath the small waves, almost as preparing to stand up from the water. “Don’t go.” 

Harry’s eyes go half-lidded in a flat expression as he hangs his sweatshirt over the inside of his elbow. “Didn’t you literally just tell me to piss off five seconds ago?”

“I changed my mind.” 

“Well, that’s just too bad. You already hurt my feelings. No take-backs.” 

“Idiot.”

“Try again.” 

“What’s that one insult British people say? Oh, yeah! Knobhead.” 

“You’re really not helping your case here.” 

Y/N sighs in exasperation, using her palms to boost herself up until she’s standing fully inside the hot tub. Water cascades down her shoulders and out of her sopping hair, following the curves of her bare torso and trickling across her jaw. She teeters forward until her face is only a few inches away from Harry’s, lulling her head to the side expectantly with a certain slyness swirling around her pupils. She chews on her lower lip as she gives him a suggestive once-over. “How about now? Does this help my case?”

Harry keeps his eyes pinned to her own, refusing to submit to temptation. He knows exactly what she’s trying to do, and he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of allowing it to work. Not yet, at least. He wants her to beg for it. 

The creature twists towards her entirely, irises bright with the excitement of a new challenge. Even with the slight elevation the jacuzzi provides, Harry still towers over Y/N at least a good four inches. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough that she has to tilt her chin up to maintain direct eye contact. The tip of his cold nose brushes over hers, eyebrows shrugging tauntingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, darling.”

Y/N reaches forward without breaking their stares, taking the clothes from Harry’s grasp and haphazardly chucking them onto the towel hamper. Now with his arms free, the immortal props his hands onto his hips, his biceps and shoulders flexing with the motions. He’s peacocking to try and intimate her, and in any other circumstance, it would probably work, but Y/N knows she has the upper-hand at the moment; she’s naked and wet and docile, and with the way Harry’s handsome features are hardening in determination, she can tell she’s whittling him down. All it would take is one well-coordinated touch here, a lingering stroke there, and maybe a gentle caress of her lips down the valley of his pectorals…

Y/N goes for something better. She reaches upwards to intertwine her fingers around the nape of Harry’s neck, tugging him closer until their chests meld together, the heat from the water radiating off her waxy skin and sinking into his freezing own. His breathing catches as soon as he feels her pert nipples press into his chest and even though he’s keeping his sight trained on her face, he can just barely see the curves of her breasts less than a foot below. Their close proximity is making them swell upwards, urging him to give in and have his way with her however he wants. And fuck, does he want to. But he’s not going to let her bait him that easily— who would he be if he allowed this human girl to toy with him in such a fashion? Harry never lets anyone puppet him— not anymore, not ever again— and especially not when it comes to sex, which is one of his most skilled domains. He certainly isn’t going to let her win. 

Harry grabs Y/N’s wrists from where they are perched around his neck, giving her a hard look that lets her know who’s in charge of the situation. He brings her hands up before her face, flipping them over so she gets a proper view of the faint bruising that lines her flesh, leftover from the previous evening’s restraints. When he speaks, it’s low and throaty with a condescending undercurrent. “Remember what happened last time you acted like a brat?”

Images flash by the forefront of Y/N’s mind like a film on fast-forward, recalling the night to which Harry is referring. The young man had tied her to her headboard and fingered her until she was left a teary mess, refusing to let her orgasm each time she got close. Then, he had tossed the girl onto her tummy and rammed into her from behind until her aged bedframe had nearly splintered. If she focuses intently enough, she can still feel the satisfying ache he had left behind, which had haunted her for days afterwards. 

The mortal swallows heavily, nodding her head a tad. 

Harry raises an eyebrow with an awaiting air. “Remember what I said about using your words?”

Y/N bobs her head again quickly. After a moment, she realizes her repeated mistake, clearing her throat softly in order to fix it. “Yes.”

“Good.” The vampire drops her hands, coasting his palms up her neck to cup either sides of her jaw, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones almost tenderly. “Now let me ask you again. Do you remember what happened last time you acted like a little brat?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do you want a repeat of that?”

“No, I—” Y/N pauses in hindsight, retracting her previous statement. “Well, actually…”

Harry’s ruby lips string into a coy smirk at her response, well acquainted with where her thoughts are leading. He presses their foreheads together, the damp stickiness of her warm flesh sending a shiver toppling down his spine. “Let me guess. You want a repeat of the part where I shoved your face into a pillow and fucked you until you squirted all over me?” 

He can feel blood surge into her cheeks beneath his fingertips as a result of his vulgar words. “Yes, please.”

Harry gnaws along the inside of his cheek as he recalls that event. He can practically feel her gushing around his cock all over again, her walls tightening around him as her whole body trembled in his grasp, her shattered whimpers stinging his ears as he continued to slam into her until she’d completely drenched both of their thighs. His eyelids fall shut in dreamy recollection and an image skims by of his initial rings marked across her ass; it nearly sends his knees out from under him. “Fuck, that was so hot, wasn’t it?”

“So fucking hot.” Y/N sighs shakily, lashes fluttering as his warm breath washes across her tingling mouth. “Harry, I just...I just want to ride you so fucking bad right now.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” Harry touches over her quivering bottom lip, somehow managing to feel her pulse. It’s battering so hard, he could probably sense it through any spot on her body, at this point. “You want me to sit in there with you just so you can bounce on my cock, baby?” 

“Please…” Y/N sounds as if she’s on the verge of crying, all of her desperate need translating into her wrecked voice. Her next phrase is something she doesn’t think she’s ever spoken before, but the intensity of the moment just feels so right to test it out, and Harry feels like the right person to test it with. After another heavy gulp and a lick at her dry lips, she chimes up once again, bashful and pliant. “Please, Daddy?”

The sound of a sharp inhale echoes off the marble and porcelain walls of the bathroom, stemming from Harry’s garbled throat. It feels like the temperature in the atmosphere has gone up twenty degrees, invisible flames lapping across the muscles of his taut back and across the tendons of his tight shoulders. His entire body seems to go into shock, lungs stuttering and stomach hollowing out. His lashes snap shut without a heartbeat to spare, webs of black veins materializing over the whites of his eyes as a reaction to Y/N’s brazen comment. 

He has been indulging fantasies of her calling him that specific name for weeks now, but had never asked out of respect for her boundaries. He figured that if she had an affinity for it, it would eventually make its way out of her mouth during one of their sessions, and he had been willing to be patient enough to wait. It had paid off, it seems. 

Harry releases his grip on the girl’s face, reaching down to messily shove his black briefs down his clammy thighs, eyes flickering open now that he has forced some control into his demeanor. He sets his intent on her expression, the jade of his irises bleeding lust as he catches her gawking at him. Y/N gazes down at where he’s occupied, her lips parting slightly with starved awe as his underwear falls away to pool at his feet, revealing the part of him she has grown so addicted to in the last month. It looks so pretty, with a neatly trimmed pubic area, thick girth, and pleasurable length. She never knew cocks could be appealing, considering she always found their appearance so odd and irrelevant. That is, until Harry. It appears she thought a lot of sexual things irrelevant until Harry. 

He kicks away his clothes, nudging at her boiling cheeks with his nose to garner attention, his tone low and inexplicably strained. “Say it again.”

Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against his heaving chest as she gathers her bearings, shuddering with a difficult exhale. She says it a bit louder this time, but still inherently weak, almost as if she’s scared their shadows might overhear. “Please, Daddy?”

Harry’s brows furrow with puncurting desire, a broken groan stirring deep in his lungs. “God, that sounds so good coming from your mouth. Been wanting to hear you say it for ages now.” 

“Really?”

He nods fervently, nose bumping hers with every movement and he takes this chance to peek down at her naked figure, swallowing thickly at how incredible her breasts look flushed to his pecs. “Think about it constantly. Always wondered what it would take to get it out of you.” 

“I wish you’d just told me.” The human mumbles, tracing his cupid’s bow with the crest of her own. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now.” 

Harry chuckles lightly, humming in amusement as he snakes a strong arm around the dip of her spine, drawing her closer as much as possible. He just wants to feel every inch of her wet, velvety skin. “Well, now you can say it all you want. Over and over and over, while I make your knees shake and your back arch.” 

Y/N sputters out a bundle of feathery giggles, looping her arms around his neck and carding her fingers into his shiny curls, pulling his lips down to meet hers in a restless kiss full of quiet whines and snippets of laughter. She talks into his mouth, starting to pant as the pace becomes more passionate, full of eager tongues and nipping teeth. “Now will you please get in and let me fuck you?” 

Harry mounts one knee onto the edge of the hot tub, his free hand jutting down against the marble for reinforcement as the other keeps her trapped against his body. “Yeah...Yeah, I think I will.” 

He crawls into the heated water, submerging up to his waist due to his height. Once he’s balanced himself within the pool, the palm pressed to the brim slips away, replacing the cold stone with the simmering skin of Y/N’s jaw once again. He tangles his fingers into her hair as he nurses her face to the side, deepening their prolonged kiss, and the whimper she pours into his mouth makes every cell in his body throb with longing. Y/N’s hands ride down his lean stomach and over his pelvic bones, fingers twitching the closer she gets to his cock. She stops right before she reaches his base, wracked with the slightest bit of shy hesitation. 

“Go ahead, doll.” Harry murmurs softly, hips bucking forward once against the pads of her digits. “I want you to touch me.”

Y/N’s palm disappears below the mounds of bubbles, cupping over his cock and giving it a rough grope. Harry gasps brokenly against her lips at the sensation, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards into a blissful simper when her breathing throttles just a smidge. Y/N gradually begins to work him below the gentle waves of the water, eyes rolling back when she feels him harden in her hold. She’ll never get used to how erotic it is having Harry shatter under her influence.

“I think it's funny,” she begins, voice delicate and humorous, contradicting the insistent actions she’s partaking below, “how you were threatening me with orgasm denial two minutes ago and now you’re being all nice.” 

The vampire thrusts slightly against her strokes, tiny noises escaping his taut throat as a familiar boiling begins to simmer in his veins. His tone is detached and pinched with the effort of maintaining composure. “S’hardly a fair point, considering you caught me off guard with that pet name.”

“Is that so?” The girl inquires playfully, giving the tip of his cock a hard squeeze and scoffing against his mouth when he releases a tight grunt. 

“Mm. You always…” Harry draws back from her intoxicating mouth, looking down at her over the crests of his tinted cheekbones to admire the faint imprint of his teeth along her swollen lips. His mind feels like it’s been pumped with syrup, thoughts swishing around lazily, his emotions still somewhat exposed from the mishap that had occurred during their breakfast serenade. It had been over two hours ago, but the wound was still fresh in his subconscious, causing small pinpricks of anxiety to stain his otherwise carefree personality. He feels as if his chest had been cut open with a scalpel, his insides had been rearranged out of order, and the gash had been resewn brutishly; he feels disarrayed and defiled. And because of some simple human girl who’s as fragile and insipidly transparent as glass. 

The immortal’s voice comes out as a whisper, carrying the weight of his confused, raw state. “You always catch me off guard.” 

Y/N blinks up at him innocently, gnawing on her bottom lip at his sweet compliment, her heart somersaulting within her ribcage. “You catch me off guard, too. Always keep me on my toes, which is something I was never really used to.” 

“Do you...” Harry forces down the lump in his throat, allowing himself to be vulnerable for the sake of seeking an answer. Though their problems are vastly different— she’s referring to her small-town, conservative mentality, whereas he’s shouldering two hundred years worth of emotional trauma— he’s more than happy to absorb any advice she could possibly offer. He needs to know how to shut this off; he hates feeling so unsure of himself. It’s like he’s wading through a forest blindfolded, disoriented and uncalibrated with no sense of direction or purpose. He hasn’t felt this helpless since… “Do you hate it?”

The mortal’s eyes fall shut, lashes dusting the apples of her cheeks in a way that Harry deems almost ethereal. She shakes her head lightly in his grasp, a hazy smile adorning her face. “Do I hate that you take me out of my comfort zone? I don’t think I do, actually. I like it. I like that every moment we spend together is something new. I was so used to following the status quo and retracing other’s steps, I never noticed how boring it all was. But you’re never boring. You make everything fun and adventurous, and it’s just so...” 

Y/N laughs a tad, trying to come up with a word she can’t quite place, too distracted in how her friend’s thumbs are caressing her jaw. The hand she has below the water has stopped its motions all together, her focus placed solely on the young man’s beautiful features. The copper specks in his eyes glitter in the white light of the bathroom, looking like polished amber gems. “Uhm...It’s...It’s so—”

“Scary...but exhilarating.” Harry finishes her sentence, a quivering sigh coaxing out of his tight chest. He feels like he’s going to vomit. 

Y/N bobs her head in agreement, hands drifting to wrap around his dainty wrists, giving them a soft squeeze as if to reassure herself that he’s real. “Yeah, that’s it. It’s...exciting, kind of.” 

The creature swallows heavily and releases her face, peeling his eyes away from Y/N’s for fear of letting her see him so defenseless, brows creasing in burning unsettlement. Instead, he lends his attention to outlining the speckling of white strewn into the dark marble of the bathroom wall, using that distraction to calm the raging in his belly. Out of the edge of his vision, he can see Y/N’s face fall, the grip she has on his wrists loosening. A spike of pain shoots through his unbeating heart— similar to what he had endured earlier— at the sadness behind her gesture, but he stifles it with stubborn spite. This isn’t him. It hasn’t been for decades now, and he’d grown to like it as so. In his experience, attachment leads to suffering, and suffering leads to misery. And with all of the centuries he has ahead of him, misery is the last companion he needs. 

Harry clears his throat emptily, slashing through the tension that had suspended in the air between them. He glimpses down at her, undoing the knot between his eyebrows and putting as much playful ease into his irises as he can muster, urging the corners of his lips into his signature smirk. “I guess we just excite each other, then. Though that’s become pretty obvious by now, I think.” 

Y/N purses her mouth to hide the immature grin his innuendo is attempting to weed out, all awkwardness dissipating from her aura. “I guess we do.” 

The monster ducks down to flirt his lips over the human’s, arms tying around her lower back and hiking her upwards. Y/N yelps in surprise, instinctively clamping her legs around his waist and giggling as he lugs her from side to side jokingly, pretending he’s about to drop her into the pool. “Why don’t we go back to exciting one another, hm?” 

Y/N’s nose rubs across the bridge of Harry’s and she gasps lightly when she feels the head of his cock prod at her entrance, dipping in a bit to tease her, spreading her open just enough to wheedle a soft hiss. She shivers in his arms despite the heat wafting up from the warm water, a very different type of warmth pouring into the area between her legs. The girl clings to the sides of the English boy’s neck, spinning a damp curl around her forefinger— he’d gotten his hair wet when he’d splashed into the jacuzzi, and the manner in which his ringlets are gluing across his flexing neck and sharp jaw is doing her in. 

She gives a small nod, eyes flickering down to his tempting lips and back up at his devious gaze. “Yeah, alright.” 

In Harry’s expert opinion, it’s safe to say they definitely excite each other. It’s pretty evident in the way their bodies mold perfectly, satisfying their own desires while simultaneously fulfilling the other’s. The vampire ends up sitting on top of the ledge that circles the inside wall of the pool, his head hanging over the edge with his mouth parted in an open grin, filthy moans and needy whines pouring from his tongue freely as Y/N rocks onto his slick cock. The girl balances herself on her knees, backside crashing down against his thighs in harsh slams full of reckless urgency— she needs this more than she’d ever care to admit. Her nails dig into Harry’s strong shoulders for stability, head thrown back in sheer bliss as her chest bounces with every thrust, the trench of her tummy rippling with contented heat. He just makes her feel so fucking full.

“God, y-you’re so big.” Y/N mewls, swinging her hips in small circles that draw an array of fractured sounds of pleasure from Harry’s taut throat. “You stretch me out so fucking good, Har.” 

Harry’s hands tighten into fists against the glossy plastic of the jacuzzi, arms slung casually over the sides of the tub in a relaxed posture. He doesn’t want to bother with taking control at this particular moment; he’s too busy reveling in the ecstasy Y/N is pounding into his system. He jolts with every rough dip of her hips, the corners of his raw lips winking his dimples awake as he looks up at her through barely-cracked eyes, the weight of his mounting orgasm heavy on his lashes. “Love that cock, don’t you? Can tell by the way you always kiss it right before you take it down your throat.” 

Y/N grapples onto her friend's neck blindly, one palm grasping the center of his jugular as the other cradles his defined jaw, her thumb smearing across his lips as a result of her choppy movements. Harry cranes his head forward a bit to get a better view, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of her finger as an appreciative thrum rumbles against the hand she has covering his Adam’s Apple. “You look so beautiful when you fuck me all desperate like that.”

Y/N whimpers as she swivels against his lap eagerly, driving herself towards a climax that she knows will leave her utterly ruined. Harry glances down to where their centers meet below the water, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he peers through the violently sloshing waves and frothy suds, watching Y/N glide over him easily now that she’d gotten used to his size. He leans forward, slowly planting a trail of suckling kisses up the center of his friend’s tummy and over the valley of her chest, looking upwards through his long lashes and smiling lewdly into her flesh every time her walls squeeze at the action. She’s so snug around him, he’s convinced no one could ever fit him this well. 

His words come out as a raspy growl. “You’re such a tight little thing. Never get tired of that perfect cunt. S’like you were made to take me this deep.” 

Y/N collapses forward, her grip shooting up to trade his face with his drenched curls. She sponges her mouth messily over his, gasping onto his tongue as the motions of the water batter against her sensitive clit. Her brows cinch with hunger, tone pleading. “Touch me. Please? Want— Want your hands on me while I ride you.” 

Harry shakes his head tauntingly, licking across her top lip and teething at the crescent above it. “I don’t think so, angel. I like seeing you do all the work, for once. You look so good using me to get yourself off.” 

The girl fists at his hair almost cruelly, her sanity gradually slipping. “But I...I like it when you use me, too.” 

“Trust me, I’m well aware.” The vampire muses arrogantly, spreading his meaty thighs wider so that her strokes have a more profound impact. His position works as intended, seen in how Y/N slows for a second when she sinks down to the hilt, a breathy, “Fuck, that’s so deep.” scraping past the cracks of her gritted teeth. 

Harry bucks upward symbolically, signaling for her to regain her rhythm; one look at his dominantly smug expression has her abiding instantly. He lays his head against his bare shoulder, studying every clench of her belly and every heave of her breasts, etching this picture into his extensive list of memories. His voice flows out as thick and silky as molasses. “I just can’t get enough of watching you make yourself cum around my cock.” 

“I j-just want you to fuck me.” Y/N is nearly sobbing, her fingertips carving into his scalp as she kisses over his colored cheeks and tinged nose, trying to swindle him into giving her what she wants. “I’ll do anything you want. Promise.” 

“Always so willing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles darkly, groaning lightly when she suddenly tenses around his length. He can feel his nails breaking the skin of his palms as his fists contract. “You want me to make you scream, is that it? Want Daddy to pound you until you can’t stand anymore?”  

Hearing him refer to himself that way sends electricity coursing down her spine. “Want it so bad.” 

The creature reaches up with his index finger and brushes a sopping strand of hair out of Y/N’s face, tucking it behind her ear and tracing down her cheekbone admiringly. After a few seconds of thought, he appraises her with a decision, licking across his top teeth and pressing his tongue along the inside of his cheek teasingly. “Let’s make a deal, then. How about you get yourself right on the edge for me, and then I’ll flip you around and finish you off. Sound fair?” 

Y/N doesn’t need to be told twice. She regains her previous stride with more fervor and speed, hellbent on pushing herself to the seam of climax so she can let Harry take the reins. The young man watches her with sinful intent tainting the emerald of his irises, the golden smudges around his pupils glinting blood red for a single heartbeat. He decides he’ll lend his expertise just once, extending his arm and fiddling with the settings on the control panel of the hot tub, preparing a surprise he knows his guest will thoroughly enjoy. 

When the jets suddenly rumble to life, Y/N’s jumps in shock, the loud sound startling her clouded brain. But then two concentrated streams of water hit her right between her legs and she nearly faints as newfound bliss erupts through every fiber of her being. The insistent spray toys with her clit in a fashion that is indescribable, revving her closer to release as the overwhelming sensation pairs with the rapture Harry’s cock is hammering into her. She won’t last long, and he knows it. 

The monster eyes her reaction attentively, his forefinger lulling upwards across the water-proof screen of the controls, raising the intensity of the jets. The fragmented moan that betrays the human goes right to his core. He then slides his finger back down, reducing the powerful force to softer bursts. Y/N whines in protest against his mouth, begging him to set it higher like before. And Harry does, giving her exactly what she craves with one easy swoop. Y/N’s forehead falls against his jaw, her shallow breaths puffing down his collarbones and heating his icy skin. 

“Shit, that’s so—so— fuck!” 

Harry continues to play with the settings, teasing her with waves of strong geysers and gentle trickles. Soon enough, he’s perched behind her, her back sticky against his wet chest as she holds herself up on her knees against the marble seat, hands clamped around the metal railing that runs the circumference of the pool. The pole helps her brace his unforgiving pace, her entire body jerking forward with every ram of his hips as small hiccups of pleasure float across the fogged air of the bathroom. Harry takes the shell of her ear between his teeth, biting down with no remorse as Y/N pushes back to meet his adamant thrusts, his coral-lacquered digits sifting between her own around the polished metal. She gets a bleary glimpse of the cross tattoo inked onto his hand as she can’t help but snort softly at the irony. 

“Is something funny, love?” Harry’s deep baritone causes chills to wring down her arms. 

“Your cross tattoo,” Y/N chokes out, a soft grunt interrupting her sentence as the head of the boy’s prick nudges the pit of her abdomen, “it’s just so ironic.” 

It is ironic. Harry had gotten it for that sole purpose— to mock the fact that he was deceased. He didn’t get to have a tombstone, so this is the next best thing: a symbolic one, of sorts, sketched into his skin for the rest of his undead life. A bit morbid, but he quite fancies dark humor, given what he is. 

However, he knows Y/N finds it ironic for much different, much unholier reasons. 

“You wanna know what’s really ironic?” Harry quips, bottoming out harshly and cooing into the back of her neck when the mortal’s shoulders give a spasm in response. His tone is a mocking whisper. “That such an innocent-looking thing like you loves the idea of being my shameless little whore.” 

Y/N’s cheeks boil at his explicit comment, a delicate whimper striking her vocal chords. One of Harry’s hands leaves its post on top of hers, tangling into her wet locks and giving her hair a ruthless yank. He guides her head into the nook between his shoulder and neck, spitting his next words out against the thundering pulse in her temple.

“You’re nothing but Daddy’s little filthy fucking slut. Isn’t that right, baby?” 

Y/N nods frantically in his authoritative grasp, struggling to swallow due to the combination of his unyielding tempo and erotic statements.  

Harry twists her hair around his knuckles, drawing a broken mewl from her raw lips as his teeth skim along the top of her cheekbone. “Words. Now.”

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“Say it.”

“I’m...I’m your filthy little slut.” 

Harry scoffs in entertained disbelief at how willing she is to submit to him, pecking a kiss to the corner of her eye and tasting a salty tear across his tongue. He redirects her head forward, grinning into the side of her scalp. “You should see the way you smile when you say it.” 

Y/N can’t help it. It just feels so right with him— she feels oddly safe, knowing that what they share is something neither of them will ever give to anyone else. Their arrangement is one of a kind; they fit each other so flawlessly, nobody could ever possibly come close. And she doesn’t want anyone to try— doesn’t want anyone attempting to replace him. Harry just fills the gap perfectly, and she wouldn’t dream of letting another man do what he does to her. Not when she has Harry near, willing to mumble as many graphic promises into her ear as she wants, all while he fucks a sweltering throb into the area between her thighs.

The human girl finds herself wishing this could last an eternity. Little does she know that if it wasn’t for her mortal ignorance and Harry’s better judgement, it very well could. 

///

Later in the day, Harry vaguely recalls how the week prior he had made a passing joke to Y/N about how her sexual drive matches that of a rabbit. What happens in the evening makes him stand by that comment. 

They order in Chinese for dinner, and Y/N insists on eating out on the balcony, wanting to get a perfect view of the sun setting over the city skyline. She has never experienced the phenomenon from such a pristine view. 

Harry allows it, but only after parenting her into putting on a jacket to avoid catching a cold, sending her back into the condo in search of one as he sets out their meal atop the multicolored glass table outside. Humans are so sensitive, and the last thing he needs is his booty call nearly dying from a case of the sniffles.

She comes back out clad in his patchwork cardigan, wrapping it around her body snugly as she sits with her legs crossed on the patio chair, fitting her box of takeout into the hole created by her thighs. The fluffy knitwork had been the first coat she had found hanging in his humongous closet, and she’d thrown it on without a second thought, too caught up in the excitement of getting to see such a picturesque sight in real life. It’s warm and smells of Harry’s vanilla tobacco cologne, along with hints of other scents, like his chamomile and mandarin shampoo and spiced deodorant. She’d been more than happy to inhabit it.

Harry isn’t sure why, but seeing her sitting across from him on his balcony in a pair of his maroon plaid Calvin Klein boxers, his Keith Harrington Safe Sex t-shirt, and blanketed within his oversized rainbow cardigan, all while her hair falls across her face and tickles her jaw… It makes a fond smile buckle his cheeks, though he manages to tame it quickly. 

They chat casually as they eat, sharing silly stories and experiences as they pick at their stir-fry, taking periodic sips of the cranberry juice Harry keeps stocked in his fridge. He doesn’t know the science behind it— though he highly doubts there’s any valid scientific explanation behind the magic that runs through his supernatural veins— but he’s come to find that cranberries help curb his cravings. It’s why he always has a liter on hand. 

Y/N informs Harry on how her work week had gone, and about how one of her friends back home had gotten engaged recently. She says it all seems so surreal and that she doubts the girl will actually go through with it, which makes the monster burst into laughter, much to her confusion. Harry thinks that this is probably the first time he’s ever seen Y/N be so blatantly pessimistic; it’s strangely comical. Just hearing her opinion on the situation is enough to send anyone into a cackle fit, especially when she says it with such a straight face. “Yeah, I just don’t think she’ll do it. She says she loves him, but she always used to complain about his foot fetish, and I’m pretty sure she’d go insane if she had to put up with that for the rest of her life.” 

Harry wards off another bundle of giggles, pursing his twitching lips and bobbing his head once in understanding, using his chopsticks to pop a piece of fried duck into his mouth. “That’s a valid reason to abandon anyone at the altar, if I’ve ever seen one.” 

“I know, right? She told me he likes sucking whipped cream off her toes and, like, not to kinkshame, because I obviously have my own weird shit going on—”

“Yeah, I can attest to that.” Harry shrugs his eyebrows suggestively, picking a small chunk of broccoli off his utensil and smirking as he chews slowly. “Decently weird, actually.”

Y/N gifts him a deadpan expression, shoving a piece of veggie dumpling into her mouth and choosing to ignore his dig. “Anyways, I feel like that one is just on a whole other level. Like...what the fuck?”

Harry shares an anecdote about his own friends, as well, feeling that if he doesn’t open up at least a smidge, she'll start becoming suspicious. He recounts the time when he and Mitch had snuck into a Fleetwood Mac concert and met Stevie Nicks, though he’s careful enough not to tell her the date the event had occurred. He just lets her deduce it was one of their more recent tours, when in reality, it had been back in the eighties. The other detail Harry leaves off is the fact that he had tried to seduce Stevie, emphasis being on “tried.” It hadn’t stuck, unfortunately, and what had made the experience even more mortifying is that his idol had taken an interest in Mitch instead. Harry’s ego has yet to recover from that blow; first, because Mitch had the sheer gall to reject the celebrity on the grounds that he wasn’t looking to get involved in any public scandals, and secondly because his best friend refuses to ever let him live it down. “Hey, remember when we met Stevie Nicks and she wanted to fuck me instead of you? Good times, man.”

When the sun finally begins to dip over the horizon, their conversation dies off, replaced by the serene sounds of distant traffic and a light wind picking up as the temperature begins to drop for the night. Y/N stares at the sky in childish wonder as the bright blue starts to darken, streaking with mellow oranges, pastel purples, and buttery yellows, the colors painting across the clouds and giving the bustling city a timeless quality that can only be truly appreciated firsthand. A small, dreamy smile spreads across Y/N’s lips as the gorgeous canvas reflects off the glossy surface of her irises, her legs drawn up to her chest with her arms hugging her knees. She gazes wistfully over the place she has now grown to call home, taking in all it has to offer for the first time in two months, feeling oddly at ease despite the fact that she usually feels lonely wandering its streets. 

The mixture of drunken hues casts a hazy glow across her skin and hair, dim stars beginning to twinkle in space as the moon makes its debut. Y/N delights herself with watching the scene unfold, surveying the endless stretch of sky and soaking in its natural beauty. And as Y/N stares across Los Angeles during one of its most breath-taking moments, Harry finds himself staring at her instead. 

Once darkness has soaked across the skyscrapers and roads of California for the night, Y/N and Harry turn in, as well. They end up splayed across Harry’s leather couch, entertaining a new episode of Sugar Rush on the ninety-inch flat screen mounted on his glass wall; it’s simply in order to take up the last couple of hours left before bed. By some inexplicable miracle, the vampire had managed to actually fall asleep last night after he and his visitor had finished their regularly scheduled activities. He doubts he’ll be that lucky tonight, but he has no choice but to play the part for the sake of keeping up appearances. 

Maybe if the universe is feeling exceptionally generous, the human will fall asleep while they’re watching TV and Harry can just carry her up to his room without having to put on an act. It’s a favorable alternative to having to fake sleep until she gives into fatigue; lying awake with his eyes closed for an hour would make him feel as stupid as Niall’s golfing addiction. 

However, it appears that for the time being, Y/N has other plans to bring forward some tried and true exhaustion.

There’s nothing particularly sexual about the fashion in which their bodies are pressed together at the moment, given that it’s a pretty innocent snuggling position. Harry is slumped against the backrest of the sofa with his feet propped on his coffee table, comfy in a pair of black jogging shorts and a vintage Rolling Stones tee. Y/N is nestled into his torso beside him, her head burrowed into his chest with his arm slung nonchalantly across her shoulders and down her back, legs intertwined with his. She had done it out of instinct and Harry doesn’t really have an issue with the gesture; she’s warm and soft and the soothing action of her socked foot running up and down his calf helps him unwind from the day’s events. He likes this, he decides. She smells like him— with her usual scent of honey and lavender permeating through— and she’s decked out in his clothes, aimlessly doodling figures onto his tummy as they enjoy the baking show in comfortable silence. It’s strangely mellow. 

Y/N is the one who instigates, as usual. Humans are so horny, it’s ridiculous. But he benefits from this specific mortal’s libido, so he’s not complaining. 

It starts with her drifting upwards from where she’d been tracing over his butterfly tattoo, her warm fingers stroking over the prominent structure of his clavicle, her eyes flickering up to gauge his reaction. Harry doesn’t move an inch, face maintaining a curtain of calm indifference. He figures she’s just extra touchy, as she normally is. Then the pads of her digits skim across the side of his throat and an impulsive flare of panic pricks the back of his skull, but it quickly dissolves, as it tends to do now around her. She’s the only person in the last two centuries who has managed to touch him there without inciting a rampage. 

Y/N coasts across the nape of his neck, twirling a baby curl around her forefinger distractedly, giving it a small tug in the manner she knows he likes. Harry’s body tightens for a split second and she bites into her lower lip to muffle a mischievous grin. She stretches up, dusting a lingering peck to the curve right behind his ear, running her nose across the shell tenderly. The vampire shifts slightly in his seat, the feathery sensation beginning to weigh at the pit of his stomach. She’s teasing him, and it’s working. 

The mortal flushes her puckered mouth fully to the side of his jugular, rubbing the ridges of her skin over one of the veins chiseling into existence, right over the area where a heartbeat used to lie. Harry’s hand balls into a fist against the dip of her spine, itching to grip onto something to keep his cool. Preferably, her throat. 

When Y/N finally speaks, the hot breath of her words makes his cock twitch against his thigh. “Wanna kiss a bit?” 

Harry cranes his head to look at her, eyebrows jumping up in amusement. “You wanna make-out? What are we, fourteen?”

The girl gives him an impassive pout and glances indicatively towards the armrest of the couch, where they had sat the evening prior while admiring his art wall. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night.” 

Harry presses his lips together into a playful simper. She makes a valid point. “Well, I was horny last night. Wasn’t in my right mind.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes at his juvenile answer.

“And you’re not now?” She prods softly, her gaze slinking down to his spread thighs, almost as if to check if he’s hard. Harry snorts as her action and she bats her lashes up at him with fake innocence, muscling down the sly smirk threatening to emerge across her face. 

“Not really, but maybe I could be…” The creature glimpses at her colored mouth for a heartbeat, reaching a hand up and pushing his air-dried ringlets back from his forehead, lips twitching coyly. “Persuaded.”

Y/N leans forward, buttoning their mouths for a fleeting moment. She pulls back a tad, ghosting the crescent of her top lip over his to try and compel him. “Please?” 

“Mm,” Harry licks at the corner of his mouth, eyes half-lidded tauntingly, “I don’t think that was enough. Show some team spirit, will you?”

The girl gifts him another kiss, this one longer and more intense, a palm making its way to cup his jaw. “Please, H?” 

He’s begun to pant lightly, hand flattening across the small of her back as if to guide her somewhere. He blinks down at her smugly, gnawing into his cheek. “You’re not quite there. Maybe a little more.” 

It turns out one more kiss is enough to convince his metaphorical meter. Y/N ends up perched in his lap, both of his large hands groping at her ass as she clutches the back of his neck, their lips sewn together in a filthy kiss full of gentle whines and impatient tongues. It’s going pretty great, and Harry thinks that Y/N is probably one of the most fun people he’s ever had the pleasure of kissing. Her mouth is as sweet as the sugary scent she always dotes, she ebbs and flows to his movements seamlessly, and the enthusiasm she carries makes every nerve in his body fizzle. The noises she makes are incredibly satisfying, as well. All her needy mewls and delicate whimpers string right down to his groin. 

After a few minutes of dry humping and jesting bites placed on overzealous lips, Harry boosts himself up from his relaxed position, feet knocking off the coffee table as an arm snakes around her hips. He sits forward, extending his free hand and waving it around blindly, too occupied to willingly break their embrace. He refuses to pull away, especially when she’s gluing such dirty moans to the roof of his mouth. His palm swings across the air stubbornly until it finally slaps down against the marble surface he’d been searching for, his grip tightening around its rim for confirmation. He proceeds to scoot the counter forward, intent on laying Y/N out on top so he can get on his knees against his furry carpet, get his boxers down her velvety legs, and get his head bobbing between her quivering thighs. 

Harry’s plan is about to pan out ideally until a high-pitched shriek cuts through the tense ambiance of the room. 

Y/N cracks their kiss, gasping and heaving as her head whizzes from side to side, looking for the origin of the annoying trill that had interrupted their playtime. “What—What is that?”

The vampire glances over his back towards where the ruckus is stemming, the insistent chime grating his heightened ears. He spots the culprit immediately, releasing an irritated groan as a result: his phone. 

From his spot on the edge of the couch, Mitch’s contact picture blazes across the screen. Harry loves that photo of his best friend— the way his emotionless expression and skinny middle finger are directed towards the camera makes it a wonderful shot— but he really wishes he didn’t have to see it right now. He has other more pressing matters. Literal pressing matters, if the tent in his mesh shorts is any indication. 

“Just ignore it.” Harry murmurs, turning back to slam their lips together once again. Y/N obliges without a second thought, happily re-engaging her previous activity of smudging her cupid’s bow across her friend’s as he stretches her out across the table 

Ignoring it works the first time. And the second. But by the third call, Harry has no choice but to break away with an exasperated grunt, his brittle patience forcing him to handle the blaring ringtone. 

He slides his thumb across the screen roughly, bringing it to his ear as he slumps back into the couch cushions, holding up a finger towards Y/N apologetically and mouthing a quick, “It’ll be just a second.”

His guest nods in understanding, letting her head fall back against the cold marble and distracting herself by counting all of the lightbulbs situated at the peaks of the chandeliers above. 

Harry turns his focus to the person on the other end of the phone line, voice snipped with aggravated anger. “What?!”

“Whoa, okay… That’s no way to talk to the elderly. Take it down a notch, Grumpy. Didn’t Snow White teach you any manners?”

The monster takes a deep breath to keep his rage in check, gritting out his words through bared teeth. “I’m fucking busy right now. What do you want?”

“Oh, well, I’m so sorry to be a bother, My Lord. I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you have all your stuff packed for tomorrow. Y’know, like the good friend I am.”

Harry blinks blankly, all indignation flooding out of his system, replaced by utter confusion. “You wanted to check if I’m...? For what? Why would I need to pack?”

There’s a pause on Mitch’s end, as if the man is waiting for Harry to come to the conclusion himself, static filling the speaker. When it’s obvious the younger vampire is clueless, his best friend elaborates slowly. “For the trip. The Vegas trip. The one we take every year around the same time. The one that we all agreed we’d roadtrip in your car tomorrow.”

Harry’s eyes widen in realization, his entire face paling. Fuck.

“The trip.” He mumbles, the fingers of his free hand coming up to rub at his temples worriedly as his mistake dawns on him. “God, I completely forgot about it.” 

“You can’t be serious.” Mitch deadpans, a long sigh following his comment. “Harry, you’re the one that booked the hotel this time. How could you possibly forget?”

“I…” Harry glances over at Y/N as guilt weighs into his demeanor. The girl meets his gaze, smiling sweetly and waving, completely unaware of the horrific ordeal he’s gotten himself into by inviting her over. “I got caught up with something.” 

A humorless snort crackles through the stereo of his phone, Mitch’s voice tinged with irked disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what you’ve been saying for the last four weeks now every time you bail on us. I just figured you’d get your head out of your ass for this one, but I suppose I spoke too soon.”

Harry drags his palm down his face, gripping his chin in thought. “I’m sorry. Genuinely. I didn’t mean to let it slip, I’ve just been so occupied during the last couple of weekends that—”

“That you forgot about our yearly trip. How nice. Just perfect.”

“Mitch, I know I fucked up, alright? But what if—”

The immortal’s solution gets cut short when out of his peripheral vision, he sees Y/N climb off the coffee table and onto the carpet below. Harry’s words lodge in his throat as he watches the girl crawl on all fours across the ground towards him, a cheeky smile ticking the corners of her lips as her irises glimmer schemingly. Shit.

“‘What if’ what?”

“What if...Uhm…” Harry finds himself struggling to keep his end of the conversation going, the reason being that Y/N has now reached the edge of the sofa where he resides. She sits back onto her heels, walking her fingers teasingly across his knees and grasping them with her palms, parting them open widely. “I…”

“For fuck’s sake, H, what are you trying to say?” Mitch snaps; even through the distance, he can feel its bite. 

Y/N nuzzles herself between Harry’s opened legs, a hand riding up one of his thick thigh as she sponges wet kisses to his kneecap, grinning into his skin when her fingers duck under the material of his shorts. His cadence comes out strained with the effort of keeping up an unfazed front. “What if I— what if we switch the reservations?” 

“How do you mean?”

The human’s fingers travel up the length of his inner thigh, sneaking below his cotton briefs and giving the tip of his semi-hard cock a gentle caress. Harry writhes in his seat, watching with bated breath as Y/N draws her forearm back out from beneath his clothes, her middle finger covered in a bead of precum— a result of all the grinding they’d done while kissing. She locks eyes with him and pushes the digit past her swollen lips, sucking off the small droplet while her lashes flutter in pleasure. She moans softly, his familiar saltiness always so welcomed. Her next whisper is sultry and needy. “You taste so fucking good.” 

Harry swallows down a groan and his voice suffers the consequences, coming out shaky and high. “Like...Like what if we switch out the n-names. I could call the hotel and put the rooms under your info instead.”

Mitch is quiet for a second, mulling over his friend’s offer. The instance is long enough for Harry to reach forward and snatch Y/N’s wrist, giving it a dominant squeeze as a scolding grimace dips the ends of his lips and furrows his brows. He mouths his words slowly with an ominous hue, making sure she interprets the message. “That’s enough.”

Y/N twists herself free of his hold, eyes gleaming in challenge. She talks softly as to not be heard through the phone, but she might as well be screaming thanks to Harry’s supernatural hearing abilities. “I don’t think so.” 

“Are you really not going, then?”

The gentle tone of Mitch’s question snaps Harry back into reality. He feels bad for flaking on his crew, but he doesn’t really have a choice at this point. Y/N is already here per his request, and kicking her out would be extremely dickish, even by his standards. “I’m booked the rest of the weekend, mate. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Y/N proceeds to grab onto the elastic band of Harry’s shorts, pulling the front down to expose the clothed bulge that lies beneath. A soiled patch has formed over the material of his underwear, and he can see her irises twinkle in satisfaction, which causes the faint burning in his veins to intensify. The girl palms him through the fabric, preening at the low, tight grunt that escapes Harry’s flexing throat. A shiver pin-balls down his spine and he tries to grab at her forearm to wrench it away from between his legs, but Y/N is determined to work him into a mess, simply groping him more intently and giggling lightly when his hips thrash in response. 

“Alright, I guess that settles it. I’ll just tell the group we’re taking Niall’s car instead, and that Adam and I will take turns driving. Just get the lodging handled, will you?”

“‘Course, I got it, don’t worry.” Harry chokes out, reaching a hand towards Y/N’s hair in a desperate attempt to get a hold of her, but she ducks to evade him. She tugs down his final layer of protection, her mouth immediately finding its way to his large cock and giving it one long lap from base to tip, staring up at him mockingly from beneath heavy lashes. She grasps it in both of her palms, gifting it a few quick pumps and spitting over the head sloppily, rubbing the slit across her bottom lip as she quirks her brows at him in a dare. 

The vampire fails to ward off the fracture in his composure this time. “Christ, you’re such a fucking sl—” 

He stops himself before he finishes the graphic statement, remembering that everything he says is being directly broadcast to someone else on the other end of his phone. Someone who’s oblivious to the filth currently taking place on Harry’s side of the call. “I’m on it, yeah? I’ll talk to you later.” 

“Wait.”

Harry is at the verge of tearing his hair out, his tone teetering at the cusp of sanity. “Yeah?”

“Would you mind telling me why you’re not going? I feel like everyone at least deserves an explanation, especially since you’re dipping on the plans literally the day before.”

The young man quickly clears his throat, forcing himself to keep control as he watches the mortal stick her entire tongue out to run his cock up and down its expanse. “I’ll—I’ll explain when you come back.” 

The textured surface sends zaps of lightning surging through every crevice of Harry’s body, but he somehow enables restraint, as weak as it may be. He silently warns Y/N once again about her actions, carding his fingers into her hair and digging the pads into her scalp. “Stop.”

“Also, why are you breathing so hard? What are you even up to right now?”

The human ignores his command, blowing over the leaking hole of his prick and giving it a playful kiss.

“I’m— fuck— I’m...I’m on the treadmill.”

Mitch goes quiet for a heartbeat. “You don’t have a treadmill.” 

Y/N tosses her hair over her shoulder, leaning down to rest her cheek along Harry’s inner thigh, giving him the perfect angle to view what she’s about to do. She presses her head forward, slipping his entire cock down her throat and gagging when it hits a sensitive spot in the back, her nails raking down his twitching tummy. She keeps him there for an elongated moment, allowing her walls to tighten around his length just how he likes it, toying with his swollen balls and moaning quietly around his prick. He can feel the vibrations burrow into the marrow of his bones.

“I told you to stop.” He doesn’t even bother mouthing his words this time, mood dark and cautious. He can hear Mitch exclaim in confusion through his speaker, but it’s the last thing on his mind right now. 

Y/N’s watery eyes dance with a devious gleam as she grins around his girth, removing him just enough so she can breath properly, rubbing his bubbling tip along the inside of her silky cheek. Her phrase is muffled, but it’s clear enough to completely shatter him. “Make me, Daddy.”

Harry’s features harden. He’s done playing games. 

He directs his attention to the microphone, voice calm and collected to the point where it’s frightening, all the tension and instability crumbling to ash. His brows crease dangerously, accent thicker than she’s ever heard it. “I have to go.”

“Harry—”

“I’ll text you after I fix the booking.” 

The device beeps and the call ends, the phone falling face-down onto the couch.

The vampire roughly jerks Y/N back by her hair, sitting forward until their noses brush, his cold touch sending a prickling across her cheeks and ears. He addresses her with the same type of undisturbed patience he’d shown his friend, aura teeming with quiet power.

“Get up. Now.” 

Y/N ends up with her back pressed into the couch cushions, Harry suspended above her with his knees on either sides of her hips, his cock ramming down her throat harshly as he guides her head with his knuckles twisted into her roots. He’s thrusting forward to meet her mouth, the emerald around his pupils electric with a type of carnal dominance that makes heat pour into her belly. She’s gazing up at him with water streaming freely out of her eyes and spit dripping down her chin, her hands fisting at the leather of the sofa as he fucks her face unrelentingly. 

“You think that little stunt was cute? You think teasing me like that was fun?” He growls as he peers down at her, ramming past her raw lips with no remorse, swimming in the damp choking sounds that bounce back from the furniture in the room. “Open wider. Wider.”

She obeys. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To have me down your throat while you gag around it until you can barely breath? To choke on it while you take that heavy load and swallow every drop?”

Y/N bobs her head feverishly, unable to form any coherent sentences due to his violent pace. 

The grip Harry has on the crown of her head tightens, his other hand cupping the back of her skull to push her deeper down his shaft, her nose smearing over his happy trail as his heavy balls bump against her slobbery chin. “Take that fucking cock, then. Take every inch like the filthy fucking brat you are.”

Y/N’s blurry eyes lull shut, the edges of her stinging mouth curving upwards as he hits every single one of her desires with a skill only he possesses. She doesn’t know why— or if it’s even healthy, at this point— but she’s never felt more pleasure than when she’s at Harry’s disposal. She just loves seeing him come undone for her. 

“God, you like that, don’t you? Like being my little plaything?” The grin dimpling Harry’s cheeks is so utterly erotic and sinful, Y/N feels like she’s damning her soul just by glimpsing at it. He delicately thumbs tears off her cheekbones, contradicting his other much less tame motions. “Baby just wants to feel Daddy cum down her throat, doesn’t she?”

Stars begin spotting the girl’s vision, her mind vignetting as a fulfilling ache settles into her jugular. She nods her head drunkenly, coughing dryly as her lungs rattle with shallow inhales. 

Harry gives an exceptionally hard stroke, holding her in place and feeling her constrict around him, her nails digging into the aged leather of his sofa. He takes a pause, broad chest heaving as his head falls back to hang between his shoulder blades, the golden light of his chandeliers reflecting off the red shade inking his irises. His climax begins to tip into his blood. “Say it. Be a good girl and say, ‘please cum for me, Daddy.’”

Y/N’s voice floats out raspy and trembling as she ogles up at the monster wishfully, her ability to speak absolutely frayed from the exertion she’s been put through. Her sentence is barely comprehensible given her full mouth, but watching her try is what gets Harry off. “P-Please cum for me, Daddy.”

Thick ribbons of warmth suddenly erupt down her throat, coaxing a series of garbled moans to pour from Harry’s chest. His whole body tightens as an orgasm floods his system, the muscles of his back drawing taut, his defined biceps jolting, and his lean abdomen clenching in ecstasy. His fern tattoos ripple over his tanned skin as he gives a few more deep strokes for good measure, milking himself to completion and drinking up the tiny noises of sensitivity Y/N makes. He finishes dishing the punishment she’d earned, delivering burst after burst of cum just as he’d promised, feeling her flex around his slick cock as she eagerly swallows every spurt. 

“Every last bit, baby. All of it. Christ, that’s my fucking girl. ”

The boy cranes his neck forward again, taking in her disheveled appearance and humming in needy appreciation. Her hair is a disaster from all of his tugging, her eyes are puffy and red, and her lips are flushed and plump. There’s trails of dried tears tracing her cheeks and across her jaw, the collar of her borrowed shirt is soggy with spit, and he can just barely make out the damp patch she’s stained into his boxers along the insides of her thighs. She’s fiddling with her fingers across her lap, continuously shifting around in her seat and clamping her legs together, and Harry comes to the realization that she’s trying to ride the seam of his briefs in order to get a spoonful of relief. 

In his sexually demented opinion, she’s looks like a proper angel.

Harry gradually withdraws himself from her mouth, watching with empty content as she sputters into a coughing fit and gulps down air as if she hasn’t had it for weeks. She wipes at the lower half of her face messily with the back of her hand, staring up at him all moony and soft, feeling her cheeks boil at his conceited simper. The vampire carefully tucks his drenched prick back into his clothes, crouching down to her level and lilting his head to the side, tucking a strand of tangled hair behind her heated ear. The pads of his digits streak down the front of her neck and perch at the hollow between her collarbones, her pulse thundering beneath her sweaty flesh. He taps at the center of her throat for significance, tone fond and almost caring. “Is it sore?”

Y/N struggles to get saliva down, rattling her head in agreement since her vocal chords are refusing to work. 

Harry folds the hem of his tee over his fingers, reaching forward to help clean up anything leftover across her chin and jaw. Y/N eyes him with a form of detached admiration, enamored with the way he tends to her so gently now that the session has come to a close. 

“You like it, though, right?” 

The young woman doesn’t even try to mask the fact that she indeed does, nodding her head once again. 

“That’s good to hear, pet.” Harry drops his shirt back over his belly, giving her a chaste peck to the nose. Despite the ever-present coldness of his touch, the action sparks a warm glow that surges from the tips of her ears to the heels of her feet. “Want to make sure I wasn’t being too rough.” 

He stands up onto his knees, dismounting the sofa and combing a few rouge curls out of his eyes, nudging at her socked foot jestingly with his. Y/N kicks him in return as she busies herself with combing out the knots from her mussed locks, attempting to distract herself from the gnawing running along the inside of her stomach. She needs to get it sedated, but she’s too timid to ask the vampire outright, which she knows is ironic given what they’d just done. 

Harry sits down along the marble counter of the coffee table with his forearms propped along his knees, toying with his lionhead daylight ring (it’s the only one he wears at home, out of necessity) as he watches her tend to the mess he’d created. He smiles to himself in satisfied amusement— she always looks so pretty freshly face-fucked. 

The monster then notices how the human is still rubbing her thighs together, reminding him that she had been left unattended. He decides that he should do what any gentleman would and provide assistance to the issue; it’s only fair, according to the unspoken laws of their little mutual arrangement. He hooks his fingers along the rim of the table beneath him, dragging it forward until his knees meet the edge of the couch, knocking hers open slightly. He leans back onto his palms as she gives him a curious glance, the olive tone around his pupils glittering with hunger while his fingers tap knowingly along the surface below. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry’s eyebrows kink upward. “Can’t a man look in his own home?”

“Of course he can, but just not at me. Staring’s rude. Especially when I’m covered in spit and bodily fluids.”

The boy gives an exaggerated pout, pairing it with a set of puppy dog eyes and a honeyed drawl. “But you look so cute covered in my bodily fluids.”

Y/N stares at him flatly. “Wow. I’m so flattered. I’ll file that compliment right under the one where you said I look adorable with jizz all over my eyelashes.” 

“Well, you do! And that was a great compliment, if you think about it. It’s unique and creative— very avant-garde of me.”

“You need brain cells in order to be avant-garde.”

“Just shut up and get on your hands and knees.” 

///

Harry drinks from Y/N that night. 

He knows Mitch would scold him for it, considering the quota for draft beverages from mortal taps is strictly once a week, per his orders. But the creature just can’t help himself. She smells so sweet, and her neck looks so tempting when her head is turned to the side in sleep; even in the dark, he can see her veins pumping beneath the taut skin. He justifies it by telling himself that any vampire would give into weakness if they were in his place, and it’s not like he’s some uncultured, unhinged newborn who lacks basic control. He’s spent decades refining his impulses and taming his animalistic instincts to the point where he can walk through a butcher shop and not even bat an eye. He’s more than capable of double-dipping without threatening her life. 

However, Harry will admit that he does make some embarrassing sounds while he’s fang-deep in her carotid artery. He can’t be expected to withhold them, especially not with how good she tastes. Y/N’s blood reminds him of so many things that he can’t ever quite place its flavor. Sometimes it reminds him of green grapes and champagne, and others it dawns on him in the form of peaches and cream. There’s instances where she doesn’t even fall into the usual spectrum of taste, but rather reminds him of sensations instead of tangible objects. Sometimes she tastes the way the first breath of spring feels— light and soothing, with hints of fresh florals and dewy mornings. Other times, she tastes like strawberries on a summer evening— warm, tangy, and nostalgic. At the risk of sounding like a brain-dead junky, drinking from Y/N is a magical experience that he wishes could last forever; Harry has never found it more difficult to pull back from someone’s throat than when he has to recede from hers. 

After the immortal has had his fill, he pricks his finger along one of his fangs and smears a drop of his blood onto Y/N’s tongue, watching the two gaping holes on her neck heal instantaneously and leave behind a faint bruise that will likely be gone by morning. He spends the rest of the night twirling stands of her hair around his fingers and counting her heartbeats, vaguely wondering what it feels like to have one. It’s been so long since he’s carried a pulse, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have it thumping in his chest. All he has left is a phantom organ and not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss its steady rhythm. 

The second the first beam of sunlight filters in through the crack in Harry’s window shades, he’s up on his feet pacing around the kitchen, going through his daily morning routine of preparing breakfast with a lively soundtrack to keep him company. That is, until his actual companion awakens; then he happily replaces his playlist with her groggy voice and tired eyes. 

Harry has chosen to prepare parfaits as their first meal of the day, scooping vanilla yogurt into two marbled bowls and setting out an abundant array of toppings, smiling to himself at the way Y/N’s eyes light up the room. She fills her platter to the brim with blueberries, chunks of banana, diced peaches, and crushed walnuts, while Harry loads his with tons of raspberries, slices of mango, scoops of granola, and plenty of honey. He runs into some trouble halfway through squeezing out the last ingredient, proceeding to shake it vigorously to try and get rid of the clump blocking the spout. The bottle refuses to cooperate and Harry turns it towards his face to get a better look at the problem, winking one eye shut to focus better on the cap. He gives it another testing squeeze and much to his luck, the jammed portion squirts loose and he ends up with syrup dripping down his face. 

Y/N doesn’t even attempt to stifle her amusement, nearly choking on a spoonful of yogurt as laughter takes over her entire body. The vampire stands rigidly beside her, glaring at the teddy bear-shaped container with so much hatred, she thinks it might melt. When the human finally manages to tame her giggles, she reaches up and uses her index finger to collect honey right off Harry’s cheek, sticking the digit into her mouth and sucking it off with a loud pop. 

Her friend gives her a deadpan scowl, to which she simply shrugs her brows playfully while gifting him a bright grin. “Now you know what it feels to have a sticky liquid shot into your eye. Doesn’t feel too good, does it?”

“Fuck off.” 

“You look pretty, though. Does that make it better?”

“I will literally pour my yogurt onto your hair.”

“Karma’s a bitch, Winnie the Pooh.”

Harry ends up having to shower in order to successfully get rid of the gooey substance, though it’s hardly a hassle given that Y/N gladly joins him. It doesn’t turn too sexual, surprisingly enough. 

The duo stand under the shower panel covered in suds, steam floating around their naked bodies as water pelts down on top of them, matting hair to their necks and jaws. Harry doesn’t know why, but he likes the fact that they’re now comfortable enough to be nude around each other outside of their usual dynamic. It’s fulfilling, for some odd reason. 

The girl helps the creature scrub off the honey with some facial cleanser, rubbing at his flushed cheeks with her thumbs and fighting off an endeared giggle when he scrunches his nose in annoyance. His voice comes out as a childish whine. “That hurts.”

“Stop being such a baby.” She huffs, going in along his cheekbones and rolling her eyes when he grumbles. “Lean down.” 

Harry abides, ducking down so she can get a better angle, casually coasting his hands onto her hips to keep her from losing her footing to the slippery floor. Y/N leans forward onto the tips of her toes, squinting at him through the foggy air as she continues to wash off the syrup, wanting to make sure she isn’t missing a single spot. Harry watches her quietly with his sopping curls sticking to his forehead and along the nape of his neck, lips twitching fondly at how hellbent she is on getting the mess off. Her brows are creased in concentration and her tongue is peeking out of her mouth; he has to restrain the impulse to surge forward and kiss her. 

Once Y/N is satisfied with her work, she falls back onto her heels, washing any remnants away under the stream and pushing her drenched strands out of her face. “All done. Try not to do it again.” 

“I make no promises.” Harry tuts as he joins her beneath the water, bare chest a mere inch from hers as he quirks his brows coyly. “It got you naked, so I’ll probably do it again.”

“I won’t help next time.” 

“Then I’ll just rub my face against yours and get it all over you. Won’t have much of a choice, then.” 

“You’re a literal child.”

Y/N grabs the bottle of chamomile shampoo from the shelf carved into the polished stone wall of the shower, uncapping it and pouring a glob into the palm of her hand. She sets the container back down and beckons Harry forward with the forefinger of her free hand. The vampire drifts towards her once again and wraps his arms across the dip of her back, lightly swaying her from side to side as she begins working the shampoo into his roots, the pads of her fingers massaging his scalp in slow circles. The groan that betrays him is pitiful. 

Y/N pretends not to hear it, continuing to work a lather into his curls as the boy trails his fingers up and down the center of her spine, the feathery sensation causing her to shiver despite the hot temperature of the water. Harry leans down to nestle his face into the crook of his friend’s neck, laying his head along her shoulder and cradling her to his body as she combs her fingers through his locks. He can’t remember the last time he took a shower with someone just for the sake of it, with no ulterior motive other than to bask in each other’s presence. It’s nice. 

Harry begins sponging his lips across the curve of Y/N’s throat, feeling her tense momentarily before relaxing back into his grasp, the pads of her digits scratching at his scalp. 

“God, that feels so good.” Harry mumbles, tone so garbled in bliss, it’s barely understandable. 

The mortal slowly coaxes him back under the direct line of the shower, thoroughly rinsing the bubbles out of his hair and making sure to carefully wash any leftover shampoo out of his lashes. She then ties her arms around his broad shoulders, gently running her nails up and down the expanse of his muscular back, feeling the tendons unknot under her guidance. Y/N cranes her head to the side and flushes her lips to Harry’s temple, the pattering of the water camouflaging the fact that the area lacks a pulse. She sighs softly in innocent pleasure, the warm air sending a delightful bristling down the young man’s neck and drawing another drunken whimper from his lungs. This all feels therapeutic, almost. Neither had realized how much they missed domesticity until now. 

The human suddenly snorts humorously, talking against Harry’s waxy skin. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to make a move yet.” 

Harry rattles his head sleepily, the ridges of his mouth tickling her jugular as he does so. His voice is distant and tender, but his words send a pang of electricity to her core. “I’ll fuck you afterwards. Just wanna enjoy this right now.” 

Y/N lets her eyes lull shut, allowing the sheets of hot water to numb her mind the same way it had his, a certain type of mellowness soaking into her bones. Her tone comes out as soothed and detached as her lover’s, all her attention funneled into how incredible his hard body feels pressed to hers in such an intimate fashion, his strong arms clinging to her like a lifeline. “I’m not complaining.”

Even in his distracted state, Harry still somehow manages to wriggle in a smug quip. “Of course you’re not. I give you nothing to complain about.”

“Dickhead.”

Y/N gives his ringlets a spiteful tug, which he responds to with an airy chuckle and a cheeky smack across her ass. The girl jumps slightly with a small gasp and a handful of select curses, which only causes him to cackle even further. “You love that shit, don’t you?”

“Go back to keeping your mouth shut.” 

“Mm. S’what I thought.” 

Harry keeps his sensual promise, as he always does. 

As soon as they exit the shower, he immediately wanders into the bedroom, the only towel in his possession being the one he’s using to shake out his damp curls. Y/N dries off her body patiently as she stands in front of the clouded mirror, rubbing the linen over her softened skin. She handles her hair second, patting and scrunching the water out as she thinks on what Harry could possibly be doing that is taking him so long. She doubts he’s getting dressed, if his earlier intentions are any indication, and he seemed like he had a plan in motion when he’d walked out, so there must be a method to his prolonged absence. 

When the monster pads back into the bathroom, he is just as bare as when he’d left, the towel he’d used on his locks crumpled in his large hands. He chucks it into the linen hamper beside the jacuzzi, sauntering up behind Y/N and she has to force herself not to use the mirror to ogle below his waist. She folds her towel neatly onto the counter, reaching forward and wiping the last bit of condensation off the glass so she can get a proper view of Harry’s face. Maybe it’ll help her deduce what he’s plotting. 

The boy presses up against her backside, pushing her forward until her hips are wedged between his torso and the edge of the bathroom counter, moving all her stringy hair onto one shoulder with the back of his hand. Harry locks eyes with her through the mirror, speckling a few sloppy kisses along the back of her neck and grinning into her flesh when a shiver coils down her spine. He looks so fucking good with his damp ringlets glued along his sharp jaw, his jade eyes glossy with lascivious intentions, and his cheeks and chest still colored from the hot water, tattoos looking as alluring as ever. He nuzzles the tip of his nose across the shell of her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging teasingly, the warm air of his low, dominant tone causing her flinch in anticipation. 

“Arms behind your back.” 

Y/N obeys without a hitch, bringing her hands together atop the alcove at the bottom of her spine. She feels the unmistakable sensation of cold metal looping around her wrists, tightening with soft clicks and pinching at her skin. The cuffs sift into the designated setting and Harry gives them a quick yank to check for security, tying the excess chain link around his knuckles and pulling down harshly. Y/N’s body contorts to his influence, her arms straightening out as her back arches, chest swelling forward while her hips remain perched to the tabletop, held in place by his own. She can feel the head of his cock dab against the back of her thighs, his irises darkening as he surveys her bust with a type of barely-contained desire that sends heat flooding into her abdomen. 

Harry ducks his head further down to glue more kisses along the slope of her shoulder, nipping periodically and leaving behind a neat row of love bites that he’ll admire in detail later. The words he murmurs against her skin deliver a sweltering simmer in their wake. “Do you want it rough?” 

Y/N swallows thickly, nodding her head several times and whispering a bashful, “Yes.” 

“‘Yes’ what?”

The human licks at her lips tentatively, squeaking a tad when gives the metal hoops an expectant tug, urging a reply. “Yes, sir.” 

Harry’s lashes flutter shut for a second, the corners of his lips twitching in arrogant satisfaction. “You’ve got the filthiest tongue, but you know how to make it say the sweetest things, don’t you, baby?”

“Only for you.”  

“No one else?”

“No one else.”

The vampire’s eyes open slowly, head tilting to the side to assess her with sly amusement. “You wanna know how I can tell that’s the truth?” 

Y/N’s joints are starting to ache due to the position he’s fixed her in, but she doesn’t mind the burn. It feeds into the appeal. “H-How?”

Harry leans forward, brushing his wet lips up her jaw, the tip of his cock spreading her open just a smidge. “Because every time I fuck you, you’re always so bloody tight. Means I’m the only one stretching out that snug little cunt.”

A broken whine escapes Y/N’s sore throat— courtesy of what had occurred the night prior— and she squirms in the brunette’s grip, trying to shimmy her way further down his length. She’s anxious to feel him fill her. “Deeper.” 

“Pardon?”

“Go deeper. Want it all.” 

Harry raises an eyebrow in impressed curiosity. “You want it all in one go? Don’t want me to prep you first?” 

She shakes her head stubbornly, pushing back against him and succeeding in sinking an inch or so. Harry’s entire face hardens as she clenches around the head of his prick, attempting to ride down further to sedate her desperate need. He twists his fist tighter around the chain, his other hand coming up to grip her throat, forearm pressed between her breasts as he gets a decent hold to prepare for what’s to come.  

“If it gets to be too much,” Harry dabs a gentle kiss onto her cheek; it’s to communicate the importance of the message amidst the tense atmosphere, “you know to tell me, right?” 

“Mmhm.”

“Alright. Ready?”

“Always.”

Y/N nearly passes out. Even though she’s grown accustomed to Harry’s size and girth, it somehow never fails to shock her into a state of unexpected rapture. He just fits so well inside her— hits every nook and crevice like he was meant to touch every single one. That, combined with his unrelinquishing thrusts and sinful dirty talk...It’s enough to render anyone helpless. It’s certainly enough to have her shaking and screaming against his chest, and it’s definitely more than enough to drive her towards an orgasm that she knows will blow out her legs for at least the rest of the day. 

Harry fucks into her just how she’d requested— rough and vehement. He presses her bare back to his chest by using the hold he has around her throat, her head falling backwards onto his shoulder as he pounds into her belly from behind. His other hand is braided into the chain between the cuffs, controlling how her body seizes up and gives way. She’s standing on the tips of her toes, legs spread open as much as her weak knees will support, scraggly breaths stuttering from her nose and mouth as shattered noises of ecstasy decorate the space the fading steam has left behind. Her hips are ramming forward against the rim of the counter, the marble knocking against her pubic bone to the point where she knows bruises will develop later on. She doesn’t mind it; she loves seeing the memories Harry brands onto her, whether that be in the form of hickies across her thighs, fingerprints over her waist, or his rings fanned out across the swell of her ass. She’ll take anything he’s willing to give. 

The vampire is dismantling just as quickly as she is, obvious in the fractured growls and soft grunts he’s puffing against the side of her face. His pink-polished nails dig into her jugular, fingers twitching as her heartbeat hammers against his palm, sending vibration down his whole nervous system. His cock is slicking into her easily and it’s obvious the anticipation of what he had said during their bath had gotten to her; he can feel how wet she is with every stroke. It’s dripping down her quivering thighs and smearing all over his tiger head tattoo, damp slaps resonating from where her backside hits against his tinted pelvis. 

Harry stares down hazily at where he’s spreading her open, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as tiny mewls itch along the back of his raw throat, her own sounds playing across his ears with each buck of his thighs. They float through the heavy air like a lullaby and he can confidently say he’d listen to her moans forever, if time allowed. 

“I think it’s funny,” Harry starts with a comedic edge to his strained voice, mimicking the introduction Y/N had used the day before when they’d been in the jacuzzi, “that you’re always so willing to let me use you however I want. That you literally beg me to take you this hard. It’s almost pitiful, really, that you never had anyone fuck you right before I came along.”

The girl squirms in his arms, her hands flat against his abdomen, nails carving into his flesh. Her sentences come out cracked and almost pained. “I-I wish I’d met you sooner.” 

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Harry grits against the shell of her ear, smirking when she worries her lower lip beneath her top teeth, trying to keep a tab on what he knows is probably an embarrassingly loud keen. “I bet you wish you’d had me back home, huh? Spent all your time fucking around with those vanilla small-town boys, never had a real man treat you the way you wanted. Bet you didn’t even like those pricks, did you, darling?”

Y/N shakes her head vigorously in response. “They were so boring. You’re so much better.” 

She’s working his praise kink like a charm.

“Poor thing.” Harry scoffs sympathetically, running his grasp upwards until his thumb and forefinger rope around her jaw. He maneuvers her head into place, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror, hissing his words lowly. “Eyes up. See how pretty you look taking every last bit of that cock? And the way your tummy’s bulging? That’s how you know the sex is good— that’s how it’s supposed to look.”

Y/N gazes upon the image her friend is referring, her exhales hiccuping in her chest at the way an obvious bump rises in her belly every time he thrusts inside. Not only that, but Harry just looks incredible, as well, with his heavily inked arm flushed between her breasts, the art flexing to life as he yanks her down against his lap by her neck. She can see the sweat beading his hairline, his freshly-washed ringlets jumping to his movements as he groans into her scalp. 

Y/N’s lips part in a silent moan and the immortal takes this chance to shove his first two fingers into her mouth, weighing them against her tongue and instructing her with a clear, deep accent. “Suck.”

She does so obediently, her cheeks hollowing as she gasps around the digits, swiveling to match his tempo. Between her glistening body, the needy expression painted across her appearance as she conforms to his every demand, and the way her walls are clinging to him like a vice as she eagerly licks and suckles at him…

Harry loses it. 

“Fucking hell.” The monster unclamps the hand he has around her jugular and Y/N drops back down onto her heels, ankles quaking now that she has to carry her own weight. His palm finds refuge along the back of her skull instead, proceeding to shove her head down towards the counter, pulling at the cuffs to finagle her into a folded position. “Bend over.”

Y/N does as told, a small, “mm!” plucking at her vocal chords as Harry pushes her cheek down against the cold marble situated between his two sinks. He pins her head to the surface and she casts her attention upwards to try and get a peek of him through the glass. His eyes look unnaturally dark, though she can’t quite place the shade given her limited view. 

The vampire makes sure the chain link is secured around his knuckles, proceeding to use the toy to bounce Y/N against his cock. He yanks her towards his torso until she thunks wetly against his base, using his hips to push her forward harshly and pulling out until his tip is barely grazing her entrance. He repeats this action over and over, weak whimpers spilling shamelessly from his plump ruby lips as he keeps her face fastened down, maintaining some form of consistent stability. Every fiber of his being sparks with bliss as he watches her jerk against the counter, back caving forward and causing her naked chest to bulge against the stone panel. One of these days, she’s going to drive him mental. He swears it. 

“There’s a good girl, minx.” Harry’s head tips backwards, bobbing back and forth as his sticky chest heaves with the exertion of keeping him tethered to reality. “Take it just like that, yeah? God, you should see the way you’re so snug around me. Love that cock, don’t you? Say it. Tell me you love it.”

Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against the dip of her spine, nails digging into her palms. “I love your cock, Harry. I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking— oh!” He prods over her g-spot and she shudders below him. “Shit, keep going! Right there, right there, right there— oh my God!”

“Right here? Is that what’s gonna make my dirty little whore cum?” Harry grinds his teeth, ignoring the rouge curls falling into his furrowed brows, jabbing the spongy area with continuous plunges. “More? Look at how you’re shaking, baby. And you’re just so fucking wet. Absolutely soaked and... and fuck, that’s my sweet girl.” 

The boy keeps delivering every plea she chokes out, his climax beginning to froth at the trench of his stomach and along the underside of his balls. A familiar glow starts to pour into his dormant veins. “I’m almost there, dove. Gonna fill you up until it runs down your thighs.”

“Y-You’re so good, I can’t fucking— I’m gonna—”

“Beg for it. Beg for Daddy, princess.” 

Y/N does so with no remorse, confessing to him how much she wants his load, telling him that she needs to feel him spill inside her all warm and thick and heavy. A dark, open-mouthed smirk adorns Harry’s features as he fucks a throbbing ache between her thighs, feeling his mind completely slip. He may be damned with eternal life, but in this instant, the immortal feels like he touches heaven. 

Then, that moment of pure euphoria is stripped away by the sound of his front door clicking open. 

Harry’s eyes snap awake, all his motions coming to an abrupt halt. He shushes a protesting Y/N quietly, tuning his heightened hearing to make sure he hadn’t imagined the sound. 

But no, it’s very much real. It’s followed by the noise of the lock clanking back into its hole, and then three pairs of footsteps begin echoing down the hallway that leads to his living room. He recognizes every single one and unhinged rage suddenly flares around his pupils, potent and bright red. If Y/N wasn’t in such a compromisable position, he wouldn’t have gotten away with that slip-up. 

“Christ, you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

Harry carefully withdraws himself from between the mortal’s legs, wincing a bit at the loss of suction and feeling a spoonful of guilt stem from the disappointed whine Y/N sobs. His swollen, leaking cock sways lightly as he takes a cautious step back, testing to see if he’s capable of moving without face-planting the ground. His mind is misty and he’s obviously drenched in the pungent scent of sex, but other than that, he reckons he can manage just fine. Especially with the newfound anger coursing through his nerves— a direct result of the unexpected trio of intruders chatting nonchalantly on the floor below. 

Harry stumbles towards the exit of the bathroom, knees wobbly and head spinning, an unsatisfied gnawing toiling in his groin. He needs to get that taken care of as soon as possible, but he can’t until he gets rid of the three morons milling around his foyer. He snatches his cherry blossom silk robe from the hook on the wall, wrapping it around himself tightly and making sure to cover all his assets to prevent any mishaps. 

He glances up at a pouting Y/N as he ties off the ribbon around his waist, walking back and helping her onto her unstable feet, cooing apologetically. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I heard some visitors come in downstairs ‘cause, apparently, they don’t understand the concept of privacy. This is the last time I’m trusting anyone with an extra key.”  

The girl leans back against one of the sinks, blinking up at him emptily as he thumbs over her chin in comfort. Her voice is hardly audible, raw with exhaustion. “How...How did you know they were here? I didn’t hear them come in...” 

Harry pauses for a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly and pecking her on the nose to insert a distraction. He throws some humor into the mix as well, wanting to steer the conversation to safe grounds, opting for using a bit of compulsion to get the job done. His pupils dilate as his sentences swim around her head in a soothing voice, heavy with persuasion. “I heard the door slam shut. I guess you were a little too busy screaming my name to notice.” 

Y/N’s pupils expand to match his, her face going slack as the supernatural magic sews into her thoughts and molds her perspective to his story. Her lashes flutter in mild confusion, brows cinching as her brain recalibrates itself. The creases in her forehead dissolve as all of her doubt melts away, the corners of her plump lips quirking at his snarky remark. “I guess so.” 

“Can’t blame you, though.” Harry taps at her bottom lip cheekily, shrugging his brows. “I was giving it to you pretty good.” 

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” Y/N rolls her foggy eyes, but she can’t hide the way her heartbeat spikes— not from him. Then, her face suddenly wracks with embarrassment, eyes shattering with humiliated realization. “Oh my God, that means they probably heard everything…”

Oh, they definitely heard everything, Harry thinks. They’ve got nothing better to do other than pry. 

He nurses her downcast face with his cold palm, one shoulder rising and falling casually to show it’s no big deal. “Don’t worry about it, hm? I’m gonna go kick them out, anyways, so you won’t have to deal with it.”

The pet name and his kind gesture eases her woes a bit, but not much. “Still. I’m never showing my face in public ever again.”

Now it’s the vampire’s turn to roll his eyes at her theatrics. “Just stay here, yeah? It’ll only take a second, and then…” Her friend gives her naked body a suggestive once-over, licking at the corner of his mouth. “Then we can finish what we started.” 

Y/N kicks at his ankle, jokingly chastising him for his wandering gaze as she fiddles with her fingers within the handcuffs. “Just go.”  

The moment Harry’s bare feet step off the last rung of his staircase, he begins spewing venom at the three imbeciles standing around at the mouth of his entrance corridor. 

“Are you fucking dense?” He stomps up towards the group of young men with balled fists and bristling irises, all his spite trained on Mitch. “I told you I was busy! That suggests that you should’ve stayed away for the weekend! It meant, ‘leave me alone,’ not ‘come to my flat unannounced.’”

“Yeah, we know you’re busy.” Niall boasts with a loud scoff, shaking his head as an afterthought. “I think the whole building knows, at this point.”

The Irish bloke grabs Xander, who catches onto what the man is doing and happily takes a part in the action. He bends over while Niall grasps onto his shoulders and begins to mimic thrusting, arching his back forward and shaking his ass. He sucks one of his fingers into his mouth, moaning profusely to add authenticity to their vulgar reenactment. “Oh, Harry! Right there, don’t stop!”

Niall drops his voice a few octaves for symbolism, putting on a shitty British accent as he bucks against Xander’s backside. “Yeah, baby, you like that? Like it right there? Tell me how much you love that cock.” 

Harry’s jaw clenches as he tries to ignore them, refusing to give rise to their taunting. The two boys break into a puddle of giggles at his expense, nudging each other triumphantly and eventually dying down. Harry isn’t normally the type of person to daydream about violence— why would anyone partake in something so barbaric when dismantling an enemy psychologically is so much better?— but he finds himself fantasizing about tearing Niall and Xander’s hands off and using them as ping-pong paddles. 

Mitch shifts his body towards his best friend, arms crossed loosely with an expression of sheer amusement painted across his bearded face, seeming undisturbed by Harry’s rampage and deadly grimace. “It’s nice to see you, too, H.” 

The younger vampire takes a measured inhale, swallowing down the urge to rip the older man’s mustache clean off. He directs his next sentence at all of them, glaring intently as his voice comes out flat and harsh. “Get out.”

Niall raises his palms in peaceful surrender, proceeding to use an index finger to signal hastily between his impromptu porno co-star and himself. “Don’t look at us, this was Mitch's idea. We just came along.” 

“None of you should have come at all.” Harry spits, tightening his lean arms over his chest, biceps rippling under the thin silk of his elegant robe. “What do you want?” 

A soft giggle suddenly bursts from Xander and he momentarily slaps his hand over his mouth to muddle it, but his eyes continue to dance with mirth. “Sorry, I just can’t take you seriously in that.” He juts his chin towards Harry’s pajamas. “I think my grandmother had one just like it.” 

“Yeah, I stole this from her place right after I pissed on her grave.” The brunette snaps with an exaggerated smile, feeling a flare of evil satisfaction at the way Xander’s grin immediately plops. Niall snorts loudly and tries to cover it up, but it fails and he is left having to brace the brunt of the other boy’s contempt. 

Harry turns back to face Mitch while the other two immortals bicker, now aware that he is the mastermind behind this entire coup. “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you have left for Vegas already?”

“Yeah, we should have.” He answers pointedly with a soft, dejected sigh. Harry has to keep himself from casting his gaze away in guilt. 

The annual trip had been a tradition he and Mitch had started in the nineties, just them two. As their group had expanded, so had the attendant list, and now it was something special their whole clique did together to put some extra excitement— something stable to look forward to— into the endless years they had ahead. No one had missed out on the trip in the last thirty years, especially not willingly, and no one ever thought Harry— the co-founder of the event— would be the one to break that streak. He can tell Mitch is upset. 

“I’m sorry.” Harry mumbles, squeezing at the inside of his elbows and putting as much genuine emotion into his demeanor as possible. “It just slipped my mind and I made another commitment that I can’t bail on. But it won’t happen again, I promise. Betsy swear.” 

Mitch’s downturned lips jolt slightly at the mention of his old bayonet. He had kept the weapon after the American Revolution had ended, as a tribute to the old life he was leaving behind after he transitioned, naming it fondly after his mother. With all of that history taken into appeal, it’s no wonder the item means a lot to him. That is exactly why the two best friends had developed a dynamic around it. 

They would tie an oath to the object in order to ensure it would be kept, and if the promise was broken, the other would get to stab the traitor with it. The game had been something Mitch and Harry had conjured up decades ago while under the influence of some very strong psychedelics, but it had stuck, for some reason. It’s simply a playful inside joke, and though it’s a tad gruesome, it’s hardly an issue considering they both self-heal quickly. Any damage inflicted is equivalent to that of a rubber band snapping against their skin, so in the end, no harm, no foul. At its core, it’s just a vampire’s version of a pinky swear, hence the term, “Betsy swear.” Harry had thought about getting it patented, at one point. 

The jade-eyed boy feels a weight lift off his shoulders as Mitch indulges one of his signature quiet chuckles. “Alright, fine. Betsy swear, then. The reason we’re here is ‘cause I wanted to check up on you before we left, and ‘cause I wanted to make sure you switched the reservation. You never got back to me about it.” 

“Oh, my bad. I got it done, though. Everything should check out.” Harry reassures, waving away his visitor’s doubt. He’d tended to the job last night after Y/N fell asleep and he meant to send a confirmation text, but forgot when the mortal had begun to stir randomly. He’d had to put away his phone and pretend to be unconscious for a few minutes until her agitation melted away, resulting in the deed going undone, courtesy of the mild panic that had dulled his memory. “Why didn’t you just text me about it?” 

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, pursing his lips to fight off an entertained grin. “Oh, I did. Multiple times, actually. But I reckon you were too busy with the treadmill to notice.” 

The older creature’s reference works as intended, an irritating flush crawling up Harry’s neck and pouring into his ears, garnering a fit of cackles on his companion’s behalf.

“Fuck off.” Harry grumbles as he shoves Mitch’s shoulder, but the insult is hard to take seriously when he’s wrestling a smirk of his own. 

“Is it the girl from the club?” The lanky man inquires curiously, tilting his head to the side with an impressed air. “It’s been, what, four weeks now? That’s a record, I think. You’ve never kept one around that long.” 

“What can I say, the sex is good.” Harry shrugs easily, tucking a couple of rebellious curls away from his eyes, which gleam crimson red as a supporting factor to his next comment. “And the blood is even better.”

Mitch rolls his irises playfully. “Alright, Casanova, pipe down.” He glances over his friend’s rumpled appearance, taking in the slightly damp skin, wild hair, and the plethora of faded hickies peeking through the boy’s robe, littering his chest and collarbones. “She’s got you on a tight leash, I see.” 

“It’s only fair, considering she spends most of that time in my handcuffs. Quid pro quo and all that.” Harry quips back, bursting into laughter when Mitch gags dramatically. 

“You know you could’ve just brought her along, right?” Mitch suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets. “We each have our own rooms, remember? No one would get in the way of your little late night jogs. Though I can’t say the same for the other hotel guests. She’s not necessarily subtle.” 

Harry presses his tongue along the inside of his cheek coyly. “It’s not my fault I’m good in bed. It’s a curse, really. Could never get away with dressing room sex.”

He contemplates Mitch's offer for a second. He thinks it could be a fun time, but then he recalls that the trip to Vegas is a week-long party, which Y/N can’t indulge because she works a regular nine-to-five. Plus, a human in a car full of vampires sounds like the introduction to an ominous joke. Something is bound to slip, especially because no one in the crew is used to having humans around outside of meal hours. He doesn’t want the responsibility of constantly having to wipe her brain. 

Aside from that, most of the vampires that mill around Vegas aren’t as cultured as Harry’s friends. They lack restraint, a conscience, and fear of consequences, given that the city’s crazy reputation provides the perfect cover for all those dangerous behaviors. That makes them deadly predators to someone as trusting and unsuspecting as Y/N, and having to continuously protect her would be too much of a hassle. It’s supposed to be a vacation; the last thing he needs is for it to turn into an episode of Shark Week. It’s best to stay put.

Harry shakes his head after a minute, clearing his throat. “But I think I’m good. Bringing along a human isn’t worth all the trouble she might cause. Thank you, though.” 

Mitch bobs his head in understanding, well aware of the problems Harry is alluding to. “You have a point.” He pauses for a second in thought, shaking his head at the idea of having to deal with the insanity that surrounds their Vegas siblings. “I guess I’ll just see you next week, then, yeah? Better get going.”

The younger vampire mirrors his nod, opening his arms for a hug, which Mitch gladly takes. He’s not one for affection, that much is clear, but he makes certain exceptions here and there, and of course his friends file under that category. And every now and then, Y/N does too. 

“See you next week.” He pulls away from the embrace with a hard pat to Mitch’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Send tons of pictures, okay? And videos of Niall getting shitfaced. I need new blackmail content.” 

“Will do.” Mitch squeezes his best friend’s shoulders tightly, beaming at him in return. He then cranes towards his two fellow guests, whistling to gain their attention from the passionate conversation they seem to be having about Harry’s robe. “Time to head out, Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Who’s who?” Niall questions childishly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I think I should be Clyde. Xander has Bonnie vibes.” 

“No I don’t!” 

“Yes, you do.” The Irish boy reasons, cocking his head knowingly. “You seem like the type who would cheat on a murderer with another criminal from the same jail. You’ve got a knack for drama, like most women.” 

Xander crosses his arms stubbornly. “No, I don’t.”

“You do, actually.” Harry butts in, eyes twinkling slyly as the group starts to wander towards the exit. He decides to get revenge for the teasing from earlier. “You moan just like one, too.”

Xander blushes bright red, diving into the shadow of the corridor to avoid any more ridicule. “I’m leaving.” 

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!” 

The other vampires laugh as they follow behind Harry’s ex-fling, waving their final goodbyes. As soon as the front door echoes shut, the immortal turns on his heel and heads back towards the glass stairs, beginning to undo the silk ribbon knotted around his hips. 

He’s got his own partner in crime to attend to. 

///

That night, Y/N and Harry end up bidding each other farewell in the corridor of his condo. 

That seems to be a common theme in their relationship, he’s come to find. It’s usually the entrance to her own apartment instead of his, but the motif is there, nonetheless: They always end up meeting in a hallway, every single time. 

“Thanks for having me over.” Y/N murmurs in her signature gentle dialect, smiling delicately as she skids the toe of her sneaker against the ground of the carpet outside his door, trying to keep the butterflies in her tummy tame. It was an incredible two days— maybe the best weekend she’s ever had, if she’s being honest. “I had a lot of fun.” 

Harry leans his bare shoulder against his threshold, clad in nothing but a pair of royal blue boxers and black ankle socks, freely showing off the collection of love bites and scratches Y/N had so kindly finished gifting him a few hours ago. She’d gone wild the second he’d unlocked the metal cuffs and he’s more than happy with the results.

The stains speckle his broad chest and the expanse of his taut neck, dark and obvious beneath the complex’s buttery lighting. Bruises trace down his stomach and across his ribs, a neat row of four hickies centered vertically between his two fern inkings. They disappear suggestively under the elastic band of his underwear and she can feel flashes of heat layer across her cheeks, her mind recalling all the filthy sounds he’d made when she had created them.

The human peels away from the artwork that is Harry’s marked torso, glancing around nervously at the fact that some stranger might see the fruit of their actions. The vampire’s lips twitch at her concern; it baffles him how she can be such a devil in between the sheets, but such a shy, reserved angel in every other aspect. It’s cute. 

Harry reaches forward and takes her warm fingers into his larger hand, thumbing over her knuckles appreciatively as his irises glitter smugly amidst his lashes, a smirk stringing his pillowy mouth. “We always have a lot of fun.” 

Y/N squeezes his palm playfully, gnawing into her cheek and humming in agreement. “That, we do.”

A moment of comfortable silence suspends the air between them, the only sound being the faint footsteps of people on the levels above and below, alongside the light skidding of the elevator as it delivers patrons to their destinations. Harry is the first to speak up again. 

“What was your favorite part?” 

Y/N blinks up at him blankly, slightly startled at the random question, but moreso at being put on the spot. 

“Oh, uh…” She laughs shakily, struggling to recall everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. There had been so much bare skin and desperate tongues involved, she can hardly pick through her memories without her ears prickling. “I think...I think the shower was my favorite. It was nice and relaxing. Helped me unwind.” 

Harry nods in recognition, turning through the pages in his mind and skimming through the instance she’s referring. “It was pretty nice, yeah. You look good in a soap beard.” 

Y/N scoffs at his joking compliment. “Thanks. I’ll grow it out more often. Just for you.” 

The young man reaches up and grips over his chest in fake passion, face contorted into a wistful expression. “That’s all I ask.” 

The pair break into childish giggles and the sensation of Harry rubbing across the top of her hand is starting to make her head fuzzy. “What about yours? What was your favorite?”

Harry mulls over his own topic for a few seconds, lips puckering in thought as his eyes narrow pensively. The comically adorable picture makes Y/N’s heart skip. 

“I think…” Harry lists his gaze downwards back onto his patiently-awaiting friend, lips spreading into his patented dazzling smile. “I think it was probably the Hamilton reenactment.” 

Y/N brows jump, mood slightly unconvinced. “Really?” 

The vampire nods confidently, his own eyebrows inching upwards, voice amused. “Why is that so hard to believe?”   

Y/N shrugs offhandedly, glimpsing down at where the ridges of his thumb are delivering soothing shots of bliss into her veins. “You’re just so...y’know...you… so I guess I just expected you’d have a preference for the more…” She chooses her next words carefully, not wanting to be so brazen with the risk of someone overhearing, “...intimate parts of the weekend.”

“Wow, okay. Just call me a whore to my face, then. That’s fine.” 

Y/N throws her free hand upwards in a fist, slugging Harry on the shoulder with appalled shock overtaking her features. His boyish chuckles echo off the walls of the building as she whips her head around to make sure no one had witnessed his dirty bluntness. “You know what I mean!” 

“Yeah.” He purposefully raises his voice, nearly shouting the following sentence just to get on her nerves. “You’re slut-shaming me!” 

Y/N surges forward, trying to clamp her hand over his mouth and save herself the embarrassment. “Harry, shut up!”

He easily fights her off, his supernatural strength beating hers tenfold. She ends up wrapped in his embrace, flushed against his hard chest as he sticks his tongue out at her mockingly. He drops his tone back down to normal, his two front teeth digging into his lower lip to keep more laughter from bubbling over. “That’s not nice. You should stop conforming to society’s outdated ‘sex is taboo’ narrative.”

“I wasn’t—” Y/N starts insistently, but then she realizes she’s become almost as loud as him so she forces her voice to taper into an alarmed hiss instead. “I wasn’t slut-shaming you! I was simply expressing—”

“You just see me as a toy, don’t you?” The creature cuts her off, lips dipping downwards into a glorified frown. He proceeds to bat his lashes and sniffle, packing as many theatrics as possible into his mopey act. “I have feelings, y’know? My big dick and cunnilingus skills aren’t my only redeeming qualities! You should be ashamed of yourself for objectifying me like that.”

Y/N presses her lips together to ward off an immature grin, rattling her head to get herself under control. She gives him a stern look, warning him to cut it out. “Stop being a child.” 

“Stop using me for sex and making derogatory assumptions about my promiscuity.”  

“Oh, hop of it! You use me right back. It’s mutual.”

“Which is why the slut-shaming is such a paradox.” 

“For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t fucking— You know what? You can’t even pin me on the objectification part because you do it to me all the time!” 

“Oh, is that so?” Harry prods with a humorous tilt of his head, squeezing at her love handles and swimming in the way she wriggles around. “Elaborate.” 

“When you slapped my ass in the shower. Or when you put your hand under my shirt to play with my chest while we watch TV.” Y/N debates, poking at the thorax of his butterfly tattoo. “Very objectifying, if you ask me.”

“Mm, not quite, darling.” The vampire shakes his head and draws her closer, ducking down to flirt the tip of his nose along the slope of hers. “There’s a difference.”

“Oh, yeah?” She digs her nails into his pectorals, discreetly savoring the strong muscles. “What is it?”

Harry glimpses down at where she’s carving indents into his flesh, enjoying the minute pain more than he should. He drifts his mouth closer towards her ear, inhaling the scent of his shampoo wafting from her silky strands of hair. “The difference is that you’re usually begging me to do all those things.”

Y/N’s teeth grind in begrudging defeat, her spine giving a surrendered shiver at his crude point. “Whatever.” 

Harry releases her body, haughty victory written all over his posture. “I rest my case.” 

Y/N’s pride blazes, a threat falling from her tongue sharply, but it holds no true intentions. “Maybe I should just stop asking you to, then.”

“You won’t.” The boy sighs airily, tapping his bare foot against the ground without a care in the world. “You like me too much.” 

“Even if I like you, I’d have enough dignity to stop seeing you if I wanted.” Y/N huffs, making a face at him to emphasize her stance. “It’s this little thing called ‘willpower.’”

“Yeah, well, we both know you and your willpower are gonna end up texting my number Friday night, asking me to come over for some more interior design advice.” Harry snarkily dismisses, presenting a scenario where he’s holding an invisible phone in his hands, pretending to tap out a message. His voice comes out high-pitched, mimicking her own. “Hey, one of the rungs on my headboard came loose. Can you come help me fix it?”

Y/N stares at him with eyes half-lidded in pettiness. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You’re right. You’re a tad more nasally.” 

“Asshole.” 

“I’m just calling it like I see it, love.”

Y/N socks him on the shoulder again as retribution, though it barely has an impact. 

After a couple heartbeats full of vengeful silence, Y/N chimes up with a jesting tone, though the manner in which she’s picking at her nails tells Harry she’s slightly anxious. “Hypothetically speaking, if I were to send out a text inviting you to come over Friday...would you?”

A lopsided simper pops the immortal’s dimples awake. He shifts on his feet, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. “Hypothetically speaking, I think I could very well make it.” 

Y/N chews on her lower lip as the apples of her cheeks jolt. “Ok, well...Let’s say— once again, hypothetically— that I should be home by eight that day. Would that work for you?” 

Harry cocks his head from side to side as if churning the offer around his mind. “I think that, hypothetically, that fits right into my schedule.”

The human’s belly flops in giddy excitement. “Great. It’s booked, then. Hypothetically speaking, of course.” 

“Of course.” Harry agrees, the reply accompanied by a teasing furrow of his sculpted brows and a curt nod. 

Y/N clasps her hands in front of her thighs with finality, giving him a bright smile. “Alright, then. I’ll see you next week.”

“Next week.” Harry confirms with a cheeky wink, running his tongue along his top teeth to keep from bursting into giggles. “Hypothetically.” 

“Hypothetically.” Y/N states with a slight bow of her head, tucking one hand into the back pocket of her dark jeans as she takes a step back from the front door with a small wave. She turns on her heel to face the elevator at the other end of the hall, her foot lifting to take the first step towards the exit. 

“Wait.” 

The mortal looks back towards her friend, eyebrows poised in question. 

Harry scratches at the nape of his neck, smiling softly. “I could really go for a goodbye kiss. Not-so-hypothetically.” 

Y/N blinks at him in wonder. He’s never asked for one before. 

The awkward aura that quickly fills the space between them becomes suffocating. He considers the option of telling her he was just joking to spare himself the humiliation, but he doesn’t get the chance. Y/N lurches forward, teetering onto the tips of her toes and buttoning her lips to his. The spontaneous action makes him swallow his words. 

He fumbles to cup her jaw, kissing her back with just as much fervor and feeling the coldness of his skin fizzle away under her inherent warmth. The gesture isn’t sexual or desperate, but simply sweet and fulfilling. He enjoys it, though it’s not surprising given that he enjoys her lips touching him in any and every way imaginable. He’s not exactly sure why he’d made this particular request— it’s very out of character for him, in every sense of the phrase— but he deduces it’s likely because he wants one more thing to cling onto until he gets to feel her mouth again. It’s not uncommon to want a little something extra to get through the tougher nights, so it’s truly not that big of an occurrence. It’s only reasonable.  

Y/N breaks their exchange, eyes glassy and so beautifully clear as she pecks his chin one last time in a polite farewell. “Text me if you need me...And especially if you need me.”

Harry gulps thickly at the suggestive statement, nodding numbly as her body heat slips away. “Will do. Thanks. And thanks for the kiss. Needed it to tide me over until Friday.” 

“My pleasure. See you later, Holmes.” 

Harry waits patiently until Y/N’s figure disappears behind the gilded doors of the fancy elevator, watching the closed slates of metal glint coldly under the blurry lighting of the condominium’s corridor. He walks back into his apartment, shutting the door gently and slouching into the plush cushions of his leather sofa with a detached sigh. He gazes up at his extravagant chandeliers, once again left in the empty solitude he’d grown so fond of in his extensive lifetime. There’s not a single sound or motion invading his seclusion, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his rug, and everything is so still and quiet, it’s almost deafening. But despite every aspect being as it should, he can’t shake the sensation that something is off. Something is wrong. Something’s missing.

And for the first time in years, he finds himself feeling more lonely than alone. 

///

It only takes Harry about an hour of uneventful isolation to realize he’s made a grave mistake. 

He should have gone on the trip. 

Despite the fact that the vampire lives alone, he very rarely spends any time without seeing his friends. Since they all reside in the same building, it’s fairly easy for him to find some entertainment whenever boredom strikes. He’ll either go up a floor to Mitch’s place to watch a movie or mess around with his collection of vintage guitars, or he’ll go a level below to visit Adam and talk about any new art exhibits opening up around the area. He could visit Niall three floors above to play some FIFA on his gaming console and share porn recommendations, or even take the elevator to the twelfth floor to bother Xander and talk some shit while they do each other’s nails. And if Harry’s feeling extra needy for attention, he could always just invite them all over to his place so the group could go out for some Thai food at the restaurant down the street, or go see a movie at the cinema, or take a ride to their favorite local bar. 

No matter the circumstances, his friends are always readily available for him when he needs them, so he very solemnly spends his days alone. That is, until now. 

The entire crew had left for the Vegas trip and— as a result of his own irresponsibility and immature hormones— had left him all by himself for the next seven days. He would never admit it aloud to spare himself the ridicule of being overly sappy, but he misses the group. He misses Mitch’s soft voice and quiet wittiness, and he misses Adam’s cheeky banter and random fun facts, and he misses Niall’s inappropriate jokes and boisterous laughter, and he even misses Xander’s annoying digs and childish pettiness. He didn’t know how much he took it all for granted until it was gone.

For the rest of the week, Harry is practically miserable. The guys don’t text him much, which can be expected since the whole point of the holiday is to enjoy every second of it; there would be no point in traveling four hours just to sit in their hotel and message him. He talks to Y/N a bit, but she is also occupied most of the time with work, given that she had to take on a few extra shifts on behalf of her co-workers. The earliest she goes in is six A.M., the latest she comes out is nine P.M., and by then, Harry reckons she’s probably falling asleep in the entrance corridor of her home. He understands her exhaustion and therefore doesn’t expect her to humor him; it wouldn’t be fair. 

With everyone in his life busy and with his flat feeling colder and emptier than ever, it’s a miracle he doesn’t go mad within its walls. He goes out a handful of times to do some grocery shopping, for a run around a nearby park, and to take a walk along his favorite mall, but that’s it, really. He doesn’t go out to eat simply because he thinks it would be embarrassing having to sit alone at a restaurant; it’s pitiful and sad and he’s not going to subject himself to that. The most stimulating social interaction he has that week is a tie between a bit of flirting with a Target cashier, some suggestive gazing exchanged with a Starbucks barista, and a couple of cheeky caresses from a Gucci store employee taken while measuring his waist for a custom order. None of it satisfies him the way it normally does, though, and he can’t place why. 

By the time Friday evening rolls around, Harry is a hair short from letting his regular case of stir-crazy slip into a full-on psychotic break. That’s why he ends up at Y/N’s complex earlier than the agreed-upon hour, stepping out of his Cadillac with twenty minutes left to spare and with a certain desperation eating away at the back of his skull.

The creature casually jogs up the worn steps to her floor, the only sound being the heels of his maroon velvet boots clicking against the cement ground. He whistles softly to the vague tune of a new pop song that had been playing on the radio— Wet Ass something?— as he tucks his phone into his pocket and brushes a few traces of lint off his freshly-ironed button-up. 

His outfit for tonight is nothing too spectacular, but it isn’t too lazy, either. It’s a long-sleeve black silk shirt with glass buttons and a pair of large swallows embroidered along either sides of his chest, the threads dyed royal and pastel blue, cherry red, and creamy yellow. The top is cuffed up his elbows and unbuttoned down to his butterfly tattoo, showing off his naturally tanned skin and matching swallow inkings, the cross on his delicate chain centered between his pecs and twinkling under the flickering lights. He’d coupled the loose blouse with some black skinny jeans, a dark leather belt, a small golden hoop earring, and his trusty collection of rings and necklaces. In his opinion, it’s a proper look for a planned-out booty call. Formal, but easy to rip off. Especially in a blind hurry. 

Harry figures that he’ll check to see if Y/N is home, just to cover the bases. If she isn’t, he’ll tred back down the stairs and wait for her in his car. If she is, then that’s all the better; there’s no damage in starting a bit earlier than scheduled. It makes for a better recoup period between rounds. 

The immortal turns the corner into the familiar hallway where Y/N’s flat is located, one of his hands already forming into a loose fist with the intention of knocking on her door. He makes it about five paces before he’s slapped with an image that causes him to stop cold in his tracks, his whistling coming to an abrupt halt. 

Harry blinks repeatedly and lowers the frame of his pink Gucci sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, wanting to make sure the scene before him isn’t a figment of his imagination. Much to his displeasure, it isn’t. 

About three meters ahead, situated right in front of her door with her back facing towards him, is Y/N. That isn’t the odd aspect of the picture, though. What’s odd is that her usual grimy work attire is missing, which he had expected to see given that he knows she always goes to the cafe on Fridays. Instead, she is clad in the pastel blue floral sundress she had worn for him all those weeks back, when they had slept together for the second time. And instead of wearing her scuffed up Vans, she is wearing a pair of pretty tan sandals. And instead of having her hair up in a frizzy ponytail, it’s down and fanned around her shoulders in a glossy sheen of tousled curls. And she’s wearing perfume— the same one she had worn the night they met. He can smell it from here and it makes his brows furrow in confusion. She never wears perfume to work; she says it’s forbidden since it can make customers nauseous. 

But aside from all of those unorthodox details, there is one specific factor above all that throws Harry for the biggest loop he’s encountered in the last five weeks of knowing her. 

Y/N isn’t alone. She’s accompanied by another man. 

Harry gives the stranger a calculating once-over, taking in every aspect of the boy’s appearance. He has to keep himself from sputtering into laughter. This has to be some type of fucking joke. 

The bloke is fit, he’ll give him that, at least. He’s handsome and somewhat muscular, but in a manner that is painfully cliche and utterly boring. He has sandy blonde hair that falls across his forehead in a shaggy sideways bang, eyes the color of a Malibu beach, and generally soft features with the exception of decent cheekbones. He’s wearing a dull orange polo, khaki pants, Levi sneakers, and an annoyingly giant watch on his wrist that gives the impression he’s trying to show off. Harry nearly vomits in his mouth. 

Who the fuck would wear a polo willingly? And how brain dead does he have to be to think khakis are still in style? His fashion sense is obviously stunted. It appears his brain is stuck in his middle school phase, when the Justin Bieber haircut and douchey brands were all the rave amongst snotty pre-teens. Also, his watch is an embarrassment. Harry doesn’t know what the guy is attempting— and failing— to show off, considering the accessory is chunky and ugly and not even Versace or Rolex. It’s a disgrace. 

As if the forced posh demeanor isn’t enough, the imbecile actually has the guts to have a fake tan. The vampire isn’t surprised, unfortunately, given that eighty percent of all Los Angeles residents think it’s acceptable to dip-dye themselves into a carrot. He faintly wonders if the man’s balls are colored, as well, or if his ass and sack are as pale as his personality probably is. That would be quite the comedic sight either way. Creamsicles for the win, he supposes. 

Harry may not be alarmed by the blonde boy’s get-up, but he is disgusted. Thoroughly disgusted. Horrifically disgusted. What is Y/N doing with this moron? 

According to what he’s gathered from her personality and the pillow talks they often share, she hates the California stereotype almost as much as he does, if not more. She hates the fake tans and bleached hair and lack of conscience. She hates the outdated teenage brands, cringey jewelry, and fraternity member aesthetic. She especially hates the fact that some of these people don’t understand the basic principles of boundaries. And the thing is, this dude-bro of a man definitely ticks all of those boxes— especially with how close he’s standing next to her, looming above her frame with one arm extended against the surface of her door, trying to look nonchalant and cool as he drawls on about whatever topic they’re discussing. 

He’s practically the poster child for everything the girl despises, from the straightened hair to the alter boy church pants to the stupid forest tattoo on his forearm. So what in the flying fuck is she doing entertaining him? What is she doing standing outside her apartment with this trashy, bacon strip-looking, youth leader knock-off, 2012 Bieber impersonator of a human? 

It has to be a joke. It just has to. There’s no other valid explanation, except maybe a plea of insanity. 

Harry doesn’t realize he’s scowling until the stranger makes eye contact with him. The boy’s face breaks into an expression of unsettled discomfort at the way the vampire is peering at him over his sunglasses, allowing his end of the conversation to falter to dust. Y/N’s brows cinch at the occurrence, her attention peeling away to follow where her date’s had wandered. 

The second her gaze locks with Harry’s intense own, she feels her heart drop to her stomach. Fuck.

Let it be known Y/N didn’t want this. She didn’t want to go on a date with Jacob. In fact, she didn’t know who Jacob was until halfway through this week and she honestly wishes it had stayed that way. She wishes she hadn’t picked up Melissa’s shift with Isabel, she wishes she hadn’t offered to wait that extra table in the back out of the kindness in her heart, and she wishes she hadn’t caught the attention of the customer inhabiting it. 

As it turns out, the young man was Isabel’s cousin. He had come to pick her up since the girl’s car had been stuck at the shop for the last few days, and he had arrived a bit earlier than intended, deciding to sit at the back table to wait out the final ten minutes of his relative’s shift. Y/N had simply assumed that he was a regular customer, so she had gone to give him the usual trained introduction in order to follow the golden rule of customer service: Don’t keep a guest waiting. 

Jacob had explained the situation to Y/N, to which she responded with a light laugh and an instinctive apology. She had told him she’d go fetch Isabel for him and bid the boy goodbye. In her rational opinion, she had thought that would be it— a simple crossing of two paths that would likely never cross again— but evidently, the visitor had a very different idea. 

The human’s shift had continued as planned and everything had been going great until Isabel ducked into the kitchen right before leaving, dancing her way across the room and poking her coworker playfully in the tummy.  Apparently, from what Isabel had giddily told her, Jacob had taken an interest in Y/N. It was a bit ridiculous, if you asked her, considering they’d only talked for a total of about thirty seconds before parting routes. But Y/N hadn’t voiced that opinion; she didn’t want to come off as rude. 

Jacob had asked his cousin to set them up on a date and that is why Isabel had gone into the back before leaving. Y/N’s immediate impulse had been to decline. She wasn’t interested in seeing anyone at the moment. Other than Harry, of course. He handled all her needs just fine and they got on so well, she’d be crazy to replace him with some random guy she barely knew. She had gone to express this to Isabel in a gentler manner with an apologetic tone, but the words had ended up lodging in her throat. The girl had stared at Y/N with so much excitement, she’d immediately felt a wave of guilt erupt into her chest. 

She found it difficult to refuse, given that turning down the offer might come off as bitchy and insensitive. Here Isabel was, trying to innocently play match-maker on behalf of someone she cared about, buzzing with glee and smiling at her so big, her cheeks probably hurt. The last thing Y/N wanted was to upset her by basically telling her that Jacob wasn’t up to par with her standards. Rejecting him could be something her acquaintance took personally and Y/N didn’t want to have to deal with drama in the workplace, especially not with someone whose shifts often mirror her own. 

Y/N had reluctantly agreed to the invitation, her only request being that she had to be home by seven thirty. That would give her enough time to prepare for Harry’s visit. 

Her compliance had landed her where she is now, standing in front of her apartment door with a boy she has no interest in. 

It had been a terrible date, though Jacob took no notice of that. He spent the entire dinner talking about himself, going on and on about his college years, and about how he works at a popular surf shop and could probably get her discounted lessons, and about how he doesn’t think he could survive without his Jeep. How he plays guitar and wants to be a famous actor, how he doesn’t understand why people dislike fake tanning, and how his dad owns a country club in South Carolina. How he loves sports, how he thinks museums are dumb, and how he likes girls who are willing to cook for him after they hookup. How he loves going clubbing and that he misses his ex. 

Y/N had nearly groaned out loud at the last two.

It was cruel and unusual torture, in all honestly, and Y/N is just glad it’s over. She’d fulfilled her role— she’d even been nice enough to dress up, to at least finge interest— and could now go free, never having to hear another word about surfboard wax or college football ever again. If only he’d fucking leave.

Jacob had insisted on walking her to the door, which would be sweet if she hadn’t developed a burning hatred for him in the last hour. It came off as annoying and pushy instead, but she allowed it on the grounds of maintaining a polite front. 

She shouldn’t have allowed it. As soon as they’d gotten to her door, he’d started talking all over again and Y/N had no choice but to stand there and listen. She couldn’t go anywhere, given that this is her place and she’s expecting someone. She figured she’d give him until seven fifty and then make up an excuse about having to go to the bathroom in order to get him to piss off. That plan had crumbled when Harry had shown up twenty minutes early. 

The look of inflamed shock that poses Harry’s handsome features makes her stomach curdle. 

She hadn’t meant for him to see this. She’d only gone on the date to spare herself some petty trouble with a coworker. Nothing was bound to come of it, other than a free meal and a guilt-free conscience. It didn’t mean anything and she had no intention of letting it get in between what she and Harry have going. But from an outside perspective, she knows it looks much different. 

The agreement they have isn’t exclusive by any means, but over the last five weeks, the pair have grown pretty comfortable with one another and had given connotations that they weren’t kindling other possible relationships. There’s a type of silent agreement between them that if they were to seek out other people, they would share that information with each other on the grounds of courtesy, friendship, and respect. But Y/N hadn’t said a word to spare him the baseless stress and now he’d run into her smack in the middle of what appears to be a very compromising situation; things aren’t looking good at all. It looks like she’s losing interest in Harry and couldn’t be bothered to tell him. It looks like she’s out for a replacement. It looks like she doesn’t care about their connection at all. 

This is bad. This is really bad.

Y/N’s voice comes out as a shrill shriek of surprise, her body turning abruptly to fully face his rigid own. “Harry! Uh— hi!” 

Harry blinks at her emptily for a moment and she can practically see the gears turning in his head. She can’t read his mind or his expression, but she reckons he’s probably trying to decide if he should follow through on their rendezvous or if he should just leave and never talk to her again. The idea of him choosing the latter makes her mouth go sour. 

The vampire’s emerald irises flit back and forth between his friend and the unknown man behind her, trying to interpret the tone and texture of the circumstance. She’s obviously on a date, if her appearance is any indication, and it’s obviously coming to a close right now, exactly when he’s scheduled to arrive. 

That’s the determining factor that helps him decide his next move. 

Y/N had invited Harry over last Sunday, meaning that she had made their commitment first. This date had to have come into play later in the week, and she had purposefully planned it around their agreed hour in order to give him her undivided attention when the time came. If she had gone out with this guy and then rushed back home to get to him, that must mean she doesn’t plan on indulging another meeting with the stranger. She hadn’t cancelled his visit, either, so that also suggests she isn’t truly interested in this bloke. That makes sense...right?

But that still begs the question: Why had she gone out with him in the first place?

He knows he isn’t owed an explanation, but he also knows that Y/N isn’t the type of person who would just blindside him like this. She isn’t soulless— she’s sweet and caring and generous, so she would never drop him without any warning or consideration for his feelings. She’d never abandon him without telling him why. She’d never do anything that might run a chance of hurting him. 

The immortal is more than aware he doesn’t have the right to be upset about it, either. Their arrangement is loose and open on both ends and he likes it that way. He likes that their relationship isn’t weighed down by commitment and monogamy; it gives him a sense of freedom and independence he’s known to thrive off of. It lets him be himself without playing her emotions, and without causing a ruckus in the plans she has for her new life. And he gets the same in return— he gets to have his needs attended without sacrificing his core beliefs. Their friends with benefits trope rides along the wings of an official bond, only giving them what they want and nothing they don’t, which is how it was meant to be. How it should be.

So why does seeing her with someone else make him feel sick to his stomach?

Harry shakes off the ball of contempt writhing in his chest, clearing the tightness from his throat and molding his expression into a facade of calm indifference. Jealousy is for idiots. 

The vampire fully wraps his perched fingers around the rim of his sunglasses, removing them from the arch of his nose and tucking the shades along the collar of his shirt. He forces his feet to do their job, his lanky legs lurching forward and falling into a casual stride as he walks towards the two humans awaiting a response. 

Harry comes to a stop beside the mortals, clasping his bejeweled hands behind his back and plastering a dazzling grin across his cheeks. He regards his friend with a slight bow of his head, voice airy and carefree as ever. “Hey, Y/N.”

She almost faints in relief. Thank God he’s not mad. 

Y/N returns his smile, shoulders visibly relaxing. “It’s nice to see you.”

“S’nice to see you, too. Always such a…” He pauses, licking at the corner of his lips suggestively, giving her a knowing once-over that only she can interpret, “pleasure.”

The girl ignores the heat that immediately floods her cheeks. Of course he’s doing this in front of Jacob. Of course he’s peacocking. “Likewise.” 

Harry trains his attention onto the young man before him, pursing his lips into a polite smile. As polite as he can muster, anyways. “And who’s this?” 

Y/N blinks herself back into the present, quickly glancing away from Harry’s sharp jaw, though it doesn’t go unnoticed. He feels his ego swell a smidge.  

“This is Jacob.” The human comments easily, signaling to him with an upturned palm. “He’s Isabel’s cousin. You remember Isabel, right? You met her at the club.” 

“I don’t think I do, actually.” Harry murmurs, glimpsing up towards the ceiling to suggest he’s wracking his thoughts. He has a very vague recollection of the two girls he’d momentarily encountered the day he’d first met Y/N, but it’s hazy and unimportant. 

He looks back down at her with sparkling irises, rosy lips twitching with amusement at his next words, knowing they’re going to have a favorable impact. “I guess I was just too distracted by you to pay much attention to anyone else.”  

He can hear more blood rush into her face and the ecstasy it brings him is immeasurable. He cranes his sight back onto Jacob, who has the slightest crease in his brows at Harry’s compliment. Good. That’s exactly what he wanted. 

The monster unclamps his hands and juts one out stiffly towards the mortal. “M’Harry. Good to meet you, mate.” 

Jacob returns the gesture, grasping Harry’s hand firmly in a way the vampire knows is to try and establish dominance. It tickles him when humans try to be tough, especially because Harry could tear his arm right out of its socket as easily as he could lift a sheet of paper. The creature tightens his grip to match the man’s, purposefully putting a tad more strength in to make a silent point. He has to withhold the urge to crunch the boy’s fingers to dust. 

They both release from the exchange and a wave of dark satisfaction trickles into Harry’s bones when he sees Jacob curl and stretch his digits in mild pain. 

Y/N watches the whole scene with a breath trapped in her lungs. This feels surreal.

The blonde clears his throat softly, mouth jilting into an empty smile and it’s obvious he’s only doing it just to keep things civil. “Good to meet you, too. I take it you’re British?” 

“Pure-bred.” Harry remarks proudly, shrugging his shoulders offhandedly as if it’s no big deal. His gaze slinks towards Y/N for a second, tongue pushing along the inside of his cheek smugly. “It works wonders with the ladies.”

A flicker of spite stains the blue in Jacob’s eyes and the vampire feels like his soul is ascending. This is fun. 

“I can only imagine.” His opponent responds, voice somewhat strained as he directs his next question to the two friends. “So how do you know each other?” 

Harry opens his mouth to make an arrogant comment along the lines of, “A club. A few drinks. Some amazing sex. Y’know, the usual.” but Y/N knows him well enough that she anticipates it, speaking over him loudly before he can even get a syllable out.

“We met at a club and hit it off really well. Been friends ever since.” 

The immortal has to keep himself from adding something snarky to the end of her summary. He only does it because he can see a sharp warning flash across Y/N’s eyes. It’s wordless, but stern nonetheless: Don’t.

Harry swallows down his dig and feels it burn a hole in his stomach. Why is she protecting his feelings?

In all honesty, Y/N is only doing it out of kindness and nothing else. As annoying as Jacob may be, he doesn’t deserve to be embarrassed simply because Harry wants to feed his pride. It may be funny, but it’s pretty immature.

“Right.” Harry sighs happily, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Friends. Good friends. Close friends. Intimate friends.” 

Y/N presses her lips into a straight line to keep herself in check. He’s trying to work her over and, unfortunately, he’s succeeding.  

“That’s nice.” Jacob nods casually, the innuendo luckily going right over his head. 

“Yeah, it is.” Harry states, eyes glinting mischievously as he quickly studies the man once again. He can’t help himself, he truly can’t. Not when this terribly-styled buffoon makes it so fucking easy. “I like your tan, by the way.” 

The human looks down at his arms for significance, eyes brightening. “Thank you! I got it done at that new place in—”

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. Looks almost real.” 

Jacob blinks blankly at the backhanded compliment. “Oh—?” 

“I mean, it’s got a few streaks here and there and your left arm looks a little more orange, but I think—”

“Anyways!” Y/N swiftly cuts in, interrupting her friend’s judgmental spiel and directing her attention towards her date. “Harry and I were actually planning on going to see a movie, which is why I had to be home by seven-thirty— we do it every Friday. And the movie starts at eight and traffic’s a bitch, so that’s why I was in such a hurry to get home.” 

Jacob nods slowly, giving her a sweet, understanding smile that makes Harry’s supernatural blood boil. “I see. Well, I—”

The vampire interrupts him once again, condescension flaring in his chest and dancing across the specks of amber surrounding his pupils. “Yeah, Y/N and I go to the theater every Friday. Recently, we’ve been going to the movies every single day of the weekend. And most times, we see several movies a night.” 

Y/N’s jaw clenches at Harry’s barely-veiled insinuation. She tries to talk over him, but he beats her to the punch. 

“Y’know what I’m talking about, right, Y/N?” He nudges her side playfully with his elbow, ignoring the way her eyes tell him to cut it out. “Remember that time we saw three movies in one night? Or the one that had the jacuzzi in it?”

The girl glimpses over at Jacob, who looks utterly confused and uncomfortable. “Harry—”

“Or what about that crime film, yeah? The one with the handcuffs.” He pinches at her love handle teasingly, reveling in how her entire torso tenses under his touch. “The one where they grabbed the criminal and slammed them up against the mirror? You have to remember that one. It’s hard to forget.” 

“Okay, I think that’s enough talk about—” 

“Oh, c’mon, dove.” Harry slings an arm around her shoulders nonchalantly, squeezing her into his body and feeling Jacob’s glare pierce the side of his face. He stares intently into Y/N’s irises, dimples winking awake at the needy desperation gradually inking its way into their reflection. His tone comes out soft but heavy with authoritative suggestion— the kind he always uses in bed. “Tell me you remember.” 

Y/N gulps quietly, mumbling her words begrudgingly. “Yeah, I...I remember.” 

A coy hum runs along the back of the vampire’s throat as he licks across his top teeth slyly. “I think that was your favorite one, wasn’t it? You seemed to have really enjoyed it. Like, properly enjoyed it. Loved every single second, if I recall correctly.” 

The human forces herself to cast her intent elsewhere, ears simmering and breathing stuttering ever so slightly. Her sight lands back onto a very frazzled Jacob, who is looking at the pair as if they’d sprouted horns, shifting unsurely across his feet. The expression of innocent befuddlement on his face makes guilt twist into her heart.   

The mortal roughly shrugs off Harry’s arm, stepping forward and placing a palm on Jacob’s wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you so much for the date. It was...nice.” 

Harry’s fists clench at his sides, though the action goes unnoticed. 

The human boy nods giddily at Y/N, glancing down to where she’s touching him so tenderly. “‘Course! I had a great time, too.” 

“Make sure to tell Isabel that. Maybe it’ll get her to do some sweeping on my behalf.” The girl jokes, giggling softly right along with the stranger. 

Harry can feel his nails threatening to break into his skin. 

“We really have to get going, though, so I guess I’ll see you around?” Y/N prods, gifting her date one last beautiful smile to ease the awkwardness that had settled into the atmosphere, courtesy of Harry’s antics. 

“Sure!” Jacob bobs his head in agreement, pulling out his phone and swaying it symbolically. “You have my number, just text me whenever.” 

“Sounds good.”

Once the young man’s footsteps have faded down the complex’s staircase, Y/N swivels around on her heel to face Harry, arms falling across her chest in an irritated fashion. Her face pinches with annoyance as he leans casually against her door, his own arms folding over his strong chest with his fingers tapping along the inside of his elbows, attitude depicting not a single care in the world. 

He crosses his ankles easily, brows quirking at the way she’s blatantly glaring at him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that people whose names start with a letter ‘J’ are bound to ruin your life?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry!” Y/N snaps, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling as her glossed lips dip into an aggravated grimace. “Are you serious right now?”

He tilts his head curiously, stifling a simper. “What’s wrong, love?”

“What’s wrong?” She retorts with a humorless laugh, astonished at his ability to act so purposefully dense. “You’re a fucking dick, that’s what’s wrong.”

The vampire sputters into a round of boyish cackling, his entire body shaking against the surface below him as his eyes crinkle shut in mirth. Y/N would be further infuriated if it wasn’t so damn cute. 

Harry’s laughter slowly dies down and once he has himself composed, his shoulders rise and fall once dismissively. “I was just fucking around. I didn’t think much of it.” 

“You didn’t think—?” Y/N chokes out in indignation, stomping over to him and poking him straight in the chest, right over his butterfly tattoo. Her perfume makes his mind swim in the best way imaginable. “You didn’t think for a second, in that big head of yours, that talking about our sex life in front of my date was overstepping?” 

Hearing Y/N officially refer to Jacob as her date makes Harry’s mood drop somberly. He tries to push it down and keep up a comical edge, but it’s harder than he’d care to admit. His accent comes out small and almost fragile, much to her surprise. “Well, I didn’t know you were on a date. Maybe if you had told me, I wouldn’t have come.” 

His words sting for some unknown reason. 

The mortal draws closer to him until he’s hovering above her, arms dropping down to her sides to fiddle with the hem of her dress as she tilts her chin upwards to get a better look at his stoney face. All anger melts right out of her voice, replaced by her usual delicate cadence. “Well, I...I didn’t think you’d care, really.” 

“I don’t.” He replies a little too quickly, a small pang of regret pricking his chest when her face immediately falls. “I mean...I mean it as in, like...I’m not keeping tabs on you or anything. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to limit you.” 

Y/N looks back up at him from under her lashes, tone unreadable. “I didn’t think you were. Limiting me, that is. You don’t...limit me.”

Harry nods his head sharply in relieved confirmation, coughing a bit. His throat feels drier than usual and he knows it’s not for a blood-driven reason. “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I do.”

“Alright.” 

A charged silence befalls the ambiance between them and the vampire comes to the conclusion that getting his neck snapped was less painful than having this conversation. At least that was quick, whereas this is grueling and horribly uncomfortable, ridden with anxiety and too many elongated pauses. They are walking on extremely thin eggshells around one another, which is something they’ve never had to do before. They have always been on the same wavelength about their relationship and not once has such a nerve-inducing instance come to pass. Now a wrench has been thrown into their metaphorical mechanism and the nuts and bolts are dismantling by the handfuls, leaving them barren and closed-off more than ever. He can feel this situation straining their friendship and he hates it more than he hates those stupid tapestries she fancies.

“If you knew you were gonna be busy,” Harry starts carefully, gluing his attention to a random stain on the cement ground as he scuffs the heel of his boot against her dirty welcome mat, “why didn’t you just text me and cancel?” 

Y/N takes a shaky inhale, focusing on tracing the faded cursive letters on her rug. “I...I still wanted you to come.”

Harry’s foot halts its motions, gaze jumping to her for a thoughtful second, brows knotting with mild confusion at her confession. If she still wants him in her bed, why was she indulging someone else? “You wanted me to come?...Why?”

“Because Fridays are our days.” 

The corners of his mouth twitch. Our days. Their days. Theirs.

The brunette clears his throat to try and saw away at the tension, shifting against the door as the subject delves into heavier territory. He’s never been one to stutter— he’s much too confident in himself to ever have that issue— but it seems to have become a new development whenever Y/N is around. “If...If you want— uhm...If you want to see other people, you obviously don’t need my permission or anything. But I’d like a little heads-up, just so I know where we stand.” 

Y/N releases a curt sigh of exasperation and somehow, Harry can tell it’s not aimed towards him. It’s aimed towards herself. 

She fidgets with the tips of her fingers, talking to the floor but directing her message towards her friend. “It’s not what you think, H.” 

Harry pins his intent back onto her face, intrigue fully peaked. “What do you mean?” 

Y/N takes another trembling breath, releasing it through her nose as a tired exhale. She can feel him looming over her, waiting for an appropriate response with his lips set into a detached line, his ever-present aroma of vanilla and tobacco muddling her thoughts. “I...I mean the date. It wasn’t truly a real date, per se.”

The vampire’s eyes bore into her relentlessly as he clings onto every syllable she speaks. He’s clutching to a form of hope that he deems absolutely humiliating. “How so?”

Y/N picks at the chipping lavender polish on her nails and he finds it adorable how the color of the lacquer matches one of the main notes in her scent. 

She speaks up softly and honestly, and he thinks he detects a shred of guilt to her explanation. “Isabel was the one who set it up. Her cousin came into the cafe and when he saw me, he asked her to get me to go on a date with him. I have no actual interest in Jacob, but I said yes just to be nice. I didn’t wanna upset Isabel by making her think her cousin wasn’t good enough for me or something. That’s the only reason I went.” 

Harry slowly twists his lionhead daylight ring around his middle finger, simultaneously thumbing over the opal on his pinky. The stone is cold to the touch, but not nearly as cold as his skin. 

He reiterates her story slowly, wanting to make sure he interpreted correctly. “So...you only went on the date because you felt bad? You don't actually like him?”

Y/N’s hands plop down against her thighs as she tilts her head back up to look at him, her tone and eyes completely deadpan. “Well, when you say it like that, it makes me sound kind of mean.” 

Harry snorts softly, mouth buckling into his signature crooked smirk. “It’s pretty cruel, to be honest— giving that poor bloke hope like that. Very malicious of you.” 

Y/N kicks at his ankle jokingly, her lips toying with a grin. “Shut up.” 

“You should be careful. Something tells me his ego bruises easily.” 

“Oh, is that so? What makes you say that?” 

The vampire sucks at his teeth, tapping his chin in faux thought as he shrugs his brows tauntingly. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably the overly-tight shirt and fraternity ring. Seems to me like he’s trying to make up for something he lacks. Probably in the intimacy department.”

Y/N chews along her cheek to keep from bursting into giggles. “You are cruel.” 

“I prefer the term ‘brutally honest.’ Sounds classier.” 

“Right. Because you’re all about class.” 

“Heyyyy!” Harry whines in exaggerated insult, face contorting with dramatic offense. “I’m a classy guy! I have the English accent and fancy chandeliers to prove it!” 

“Right. Super classy.” 

“I’m a proper gentleman.” The monster huffs with begrudging finality, irises glitzing deviously. “That is, until you beg me to behave otherwise.” 

“Fuck off.” 

He looks down at her over the crests of his sharp cheekbones as she gazes up at him with a humorously flat expression, feeling all the pent-up stress from the previous events dissolve away into nothing. Harry reaches forward, taking a single curled strand of her hair and moving it behind her shoulder to get a better look at her face. The gesture makes Y/N’s heartbeat hiccup. Especially when that same forefinger ends up poised below her chin, his thumb distractedly caressing across her jaw. 

The creature’s next sentence comes out low and almost vulnerable. “So it meant nothing, then? Are you sure? Because I don’t want to get in the way of your dating life if you—”

“It meant nothing.” Y/N confirms, bobbing her head once insistently. She cradles her cheek into his icy palm, keeping their eyes locked as she gives it a gentle kiss, her insides fluttering when Harry’s breathing hitches. “I’m not gonna be seeing him again anytime soon. Or ever, probably. And that’s why I didn’t mention it to you— because I knew it wouldn’t change anything between us. You’re the only person I’m interested in right now.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

The young man swallows thickly, leaning down to smudge his nose across the girl’s and the action erupts a certain flood of warmth so powerful, it could very well kickstart the dead organ below his ribs. His voice is tumbling down his numb tongue before he can think to stop it. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.” 

Y/N’s fingers stretch upwards to wrap around his wrist securely, almost as if to tether him and eliminate the chance of his touch slipping away. Her whisper is trembly and raw. “You have?” 

Harry knows he’s allowing this to wade into dangerously grey waters, but he can’t find it in himself to care, at the moment. “Yeah. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Couldn’t stop thinking about how good you felt last time.” 

The mortal teeters onto the tips of her toes, flirting her mouth over her friend’s, a prickling sensation stemming from where their cupid’s bows brush. She glimpses at him amidst her lashes, glassy eyes reflecting his need right back at him. “Tell me more. Please?”

The breath of Harry’s words is hot against her mouth, his eyes lulling closed as he recalls all of the memories from the last few days. “I just couldn’t shake it. You were just so tight and warm and the way you were pushing back against my thrusts...the way you were shaking and whimpering...the way you flipped around and slammed your mouth to mine because you wanted me to moan onto your tongue….It was so fucking filthy, I just— I couldn’t—”

His control begins to shatter and the immortal can feel desperation leak through the cracks webbing across his composure. Y/N isn’t helping any, considering she’s started suckling lightly at his bottom lip, her free hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck. 

“Keep going.” 

Harry gulps heavily before continuing. “I touched myself while fantasying about you. Lost count of how many times, honestly. But I came so hard every single one. It was pretty easy to lose myself like that, just sitting there thinking about everything we do. Thinking about how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, taking it down your throat like such a good fucking girl. How nice your arse feels in my hands, especially when you ask me to spank it. How snug you are when you sink over me, stretching around it like it’s made just for you. How the little noises you make sound so fucking perfect— like a song, really. And...and how good you taste between your thighs. S’like honey. Just so fucking sweet.” 

There’s a pause as Harry’s words sink into the air, his dirty confessions pulling passion taut into existence between the two lovers. They’re all over each other in less than a heartbeat. 

Y/N begins to fumble with the small purse she has strung across her body, frantically fishing for her keys as Harry delights himself with sponging his lips across the slope of her jaw, grinning into her skin at the little curses escaping her throat. He absolutely adores how whipped she gets for him. 

The human manages to retrieve her key, jamming it into the lock blindly as her eyes blur with tears of sheer need, stemming from the tiny shots of bliss Harry is instilling through the sloppy pecks he’s trailing down her jugular. She hastily turns the knob, bumping her full weight into the door and nearly fainting in relief when it swings open. She turns sharply to face him, roping her arms around his strong shoulders and pulling him into her, shuddering at how incredible it feels to have his strong torso flushed to hers so intimately. Harry allows himself to be yanked forward into her apartment, giggling softly when she crashes their mouths together messily, harshly tugging him past the threshold. 

The vampire’s lean arms wrap around her waist as the young woman maneuvers their connected bodies into the narrow hallway of her flat, one of her hands waving around wildly until it succeeds in shoving the door shut. Y/N slams Harry up against the closest wall, feverishly fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt and nearly ripping them out of their designated holes. Her hands quiver as she races down the seams, her eyes tinging darker when Harry leans his head back against the panel and smirks down at her smugly. 

He gnaws on his bottom lip, his half-lidded gaze mocking her hysteria as his voice comes out deep and melodic as always, slathered with self-assured arrogance. “You’re so cute when you’re this eager to fuck me.” 

Y/N pants against his twitching lips, tearing his top down his broad figure and shamelessly groping at his swollen biceps. “Just shut up and kiss me.”  

Harry abides, lulling his tongue along her upper lip and thrumming deeply when her digits trickle down his abdomen. He coos into her mouth as she begins fiddling with his belt buckle. “What, no interior design emergency this time? You’re losing your touch, darling.” 

The girl pulls the leather strap off his pants in a frenzy, scoffing at his stupid quip and breaking their kiss to speckle her mouth down his bare chest, feeling it stutter below her influence. “I got some new chairs for my dining table. Wanna take a look?” 

The boy’s fingers card into her roots as she descends down his stomach with wet pecks, his eyes rolling closed with a strained grunt. She bites along his fern inkings and his hips buck forward in response, his grip on her hair tightening when she palms over the outline of his clothed cock. “You know I’m always a sucker for some good dining chairs.”

As it turns out, Y/N had actually gotten some new chairs, much to Harry’s surprise. 

They’re nice, in his opinion. They seem sturdy enough, with metal backrests and legs that are covered in tarnished gold paint that gives a pleasing rustic look. But in the end, Harry doesn’t really much care for the details of the furniture. All he cares about is if they’ll manage to withstand Y/N’s weight as he shoves her onto her knees atop the chair and bends her over the back. Or if they’ll stay put as he pounds into her from behind with a fist in her hair and his letter rings marking across her backside. That’s all that truly matters. 

Despite having done this countless of times before, this particular instance feels different. Both of them can tell, but Y/N feels it more prevalently. Specifically, in the bottom of her stomach and in the pain sweltering across her ass.

Harry’s just…rougher. He’s still himself, so he makes sure she’s okay with everything he does before doing it, but when he gets the green light, he doesn’t let it go to waste. His grip on her roots is harsh, with his nails digging into her scalp as he jerks her head back to bring her in for a kiss, her spine arching into a semi-circle. The position is difficult given the amount of flexibility required, but Y/N powers through. She quite likes it, actually— it gives him a deeper range of depth, somehow. She can feel him touching the trench of her tummy and she refuses to do anything that might make that stop.

The kiss is upside down, but the vampire doesn’t let that deter him. It’s still dirty and heedless, with lots of biting and overzealous tongues, broken whines and fractured pleas. Y/N freely moans into his mouth, gasping and mewling to his every thrust with a certain type of helplessness that flogs the flames blistering Harry’s dormant veins. He loves that he makes her feel helpless, especially because she makes him feel the exact same way. 

His stride is fast and deep and unapologetic— vengeful, almost, and they both know why. Even though Y/N had told the creature that the date had been nothing but a selfless chore, he can’t seem to let it go as easily as she had. He finds himself wanting to prove to her that he’s better than that insipid stranger. That he can give her everything she wants without a single issue. That he can deliver everything she needs with expert skill and relentless force, just as she prefers. That he can make her entire body tremble in overstimulation and make every fiber of her being tingle with sheer pleasure, just by gifting her a few adamant snaps of his hips and by muttering a couple filthy promises onto her unfeeling tongue. 

“Bet he wouldn’t be able to make you feel like this, huh, pet?” Harry growls against her swollen lips, plunging his thick length into her and nudging at that sweet spot that makes her toes curl. “Bet he wouldn’t know how to handle you— how to handle that tight cunt and that sharp tongue. Could never take care of you the way I do, isn’t that right, baby?” 

Y/N rattles her head in her friend’s grasp, releasing fragmented noises of bliss as he hikes her dress further up her ass and gives it another brutal spank. She can feel his rings imprinting across her sweaty skin and she strives off it more than she should. 

Her voice comes out garbled and weak. “N-No one can make me feel as good as you.” 

“Damn straight.” Harry grits out, breaking their prolonged kiss to rest his chin against her damp forehead, looking down at her from over his sharp, tinted cheekbones. “Nobody can fuck you into a begging mess like I can. Whose pretty cunt is this, angel? Who’s the only one who gets to call you their little slut?” 

The electricity crackling around his pupils is borderlining on unhinged, but she adores it. The fact that she can drive him to the brink like that feeds the affinity she has to win his praise. “It’s yours, Harry. Just yours— it’s always just you. You’re the only one. Nobody e-else— fuck, oh my God!”

“You got all dolled up for him, though. Why’s that’s, hm?” Harry’s hold releases from her hair and fumbles down to her throat, the pads of his fingers leaving bruises across her jugular as he grunts lowly with every hellbent ram. “If you didn’t care, why’d you get all pretty, then? Why’d you wear perfume? And why’d you wear that dress— my dress?”

Y/N’s lashes flutter as he refers to her outfit, which is the same one she’d had on the day they had officially established their loose arrangement. Hearing him call it his— hearing him claim it as his own with so much dominant confidence— makes the pit of her belly froth. It is his. Sure, she’d worn it for the sake of looking presentable, but it was only to satisfy the basic rules of what a date entails. In truth, under the excuse of inherent kindness, she’d worn it because she knew Harry would see it afterwards. Because she knew he liked it. Because she wanted to please him. 

The girl communicates that to him now in the form of a feathery mumble, staring up at his angered eyes with a moony, innocent aura. “I wore it f-for you.”  

The intense jealousy present in Harry’s clenched jaw and furrowed brows dissipates, replaced by soft awe at her wispy affirmation. He pants as he absorbs the real meaning behind her entire appearance, feeling sparks ignite in his heaving chest. “You...You did it for me?” 

Y/N struggles to swallow in his rough grip, nodding a bit as her fingers tighten around the edge of the chair. “I know you like it and, well…I like making you happy.” 

Harry’s lips part in astonished wonder, though he’s not so sure why her admission had caught him off guard. She’s told him plenty of times that she likes giving him what he wants, but this just feels slightly more personal than anything else she’s ever uttered during an orgasmic stupor. It’s tipping along one of the lines they had sworn not to cross. 

The vampire hadn’t even realized his strokes had tapered to a halt, and apparently neither had she. They’re both too busy looking into each other’s eyes with expressions that neither can decipher. The tense pause only lasts maybe three seconds at most, but it feels like they manage to fit an eternity of uncertain silence within that short time frame. 

Harry cuts through the moment by clearing his throat, intent on changing the subject into something much lighter that will allow them to return to their previous activity. However, the words that rasp out of his raw lips are ones he hadn’t consciously consented to. They come from a sincere nature he’d suppressed for so long, he didn’t think it was possible for it to ever resurface again. “I like making you happy, too.”

Y/N blinks up at him with her usual doe-like air, the corners of her lips twitching fondly at his requited compliment. “I guess we just like making each other happy, then, don’t we?” 

The monster has never been more thankful for her witty personality. It gives him the opportunity to stuff his emotions back into the box they belong, allowing him to regain his typical composure and return her banter without a hitch. He bursts into a round of wheezy giggles, tapping at the hollow of her throat playfully. “I guess so. We’ll add that to the list of things we do to each other, right under ‘excite.’”

The rest of the session goes as usual, thankfully. Some more degrading names are exchanged, positions are switched, hickies are stained on fleshy thighs and damp shoulders, and Harry’s array of rings paint an art piece across Y/N’s backside that he thinks is worthy of the Louvre. His initials are signed on it and everything. 

The pair end up splayed across her trusty old couch, catching their breaths from the heavy exertion they’d just put each other through. Y/N is still in her dress, though it’s rumpled, damp, and the thin straps are hanging off her shoulders limply. Harry is bare, as he always is after sex, per his raunchy preference. However, Y/N had made him cover himself with a blanket in order to keep at least a shred of decency between them. Plus, she’d said she didn’t want his “limp dick brushing against my dress while we cuddle.” 

And that’s what they’re doing now— snuggling on her couch with the human pressed up against the vampire’s side, his arm slung around her shoulders casually as she doodles random shapes across the colored skin of his tummy. She has one leg hooked across his covered hips, which he’s more than happy to allow because he thoroughly enjoys rubbing his palm up and down the back of her thigh; it’s soothing and warm. Y/N entertains herself with nuzzling her head against the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly as he props his chin atop her temple and pets at her frizzy hair with gentle strokes. It’s a nice moment, full of slowly steadying breaths and the hum of the air vent at the other end of the room. 

Harry is the first to break the tranquil atmosphere. 

“I give the chairs a ten out of ten. IKEA really outsold.” 

Y/N slaps her hand down against his naked chest, sputtering into a wave of loud laughter that is unbelievably contagious. “I’m happy you like them ‘cause, uh...they were on clearance. Can’t return them.” 

“You lucked out then, didn’t you? Kudos to your ability to pick out decent furniture.” Harry twirls a strand of her tangled locks around his index finger, giving it a playful tug as a grin dimples his flushed cheeks. “Except for when it comes to wall decor.”

“It’s not my fault you're a stuck-up asshole.” 

“And it’s not my fault you have a knack for cringey drapery depicting ClipArt images.” 

“I’m going to strangle you with one of my tapestries, I really am.”

“Be my guest. At least I won’t have to look at them ever again.” The immortal squeezes her thigh jestingly, his smile widening when she squirms and giggles. “I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been fucking and I accidentally glanced at it and almost went soft.” 

“But you didn’t.” She reasons, flicking at one of his nipples in revenge and feeling proud when he hisses softly. 

“But I could have.”

“But you didn’t.” 

“But I could have.” Harry insists stubbornly, reaching up to push a few wet curls out of his tired eyes. “Have you ever had someone go soft inside you? It’s pretty gross. Highly discourage it.”

“Just close your eyes, then.” Y/N states with finality, pinching at his belly button and cackling in satisfaction when he writhes. “You’re real shitty at solving problems, y’know that? You could never be Sherlock.” 

Harry goes quiet for a second and his friend almost looks up to check if he’s alright; he’s too petty to ever back out of anything. But sure enough, his voice comes out a second later, flat and unyielding. “Take down the glorified curtains or I’m never eating you out again.”

“I’ll take down my glorified curtains the day you take down that Stevie Nicks poster on your wall.” 

“I refuse to take down Stevie!”

“And I refuse to take down Amanda!”

“You named it?!”

The lovers chat and bicker childishly for a while longer, talking about anything and everything that will keep them entertained. Harry explains to Y/N how his friends had gone on a trip this week (though he makes sure to omit the fact that he had willingly bailed in order to spend time with her) and he’d been alone most of the time. She responds to his story with an incredulous yelp, telling him that he should’ve come over if he wanted some company. She says she would have been more than happy to hang out with him, but he knows she’d been so busy the entire week with work, she probably would have fallen asleep within ten minutes of him arriving. It’s the thought that counts, though, so he thanks her for the belated support, either way. 

Y/N talks about a weird customer that had come in and ordered a sandwich with nothing but cucumbers and cheddar cheese on French bread, which she had later recreated to taste-test herself out of curiosity. She can confirm it was abhorrent and the way her nose crinkles with disgust makes Harry snort in endearment. She also tells him about how horribly the date with Jacob had gone, simply because she can tell he’s itching to ask. She recounts everything the young man boasted about, from the annoying college stories to his stupid opinion about clubs. She informs him that she’d never had a more terrible experience in her life and that she wishes she could get that hour of her life back. 

Harry can’t help the way his face lights up at how utterly repulsed she sounds. He knew it. He fucking knew she would never insert herself into a romantic situation with such a comedic punchline of a human being. Hearing her confirm his suspicions is almost as pleasurable as what she can do with her mouth. Almost. 

The vampire finds himself lost in his thoughts, thinking about how much better the whole event would have gone if it had been him instead. How he would have picked her up from her flat by actually getting out of the car and knocking on her door, rather than just sending her a text to come down. How he would have helped her into his car like a proper gentleman, and how he would’ve aided her back out when the time came. How he would enter the restaurant with his palm resting at the dip of her back, guiding the girl towards their seats and pulling out a chair for her. How they’d make conversation as easily as they always do, and how he’d have her laughing between mouthfuls of food, and how he’d expertly flirt her into a fidgety puddle. How he’d reach over the table to get a bit of sauce off the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin, and how she’d thank him with that shy smile he’d grown to admire. How he’d wave off her suggestion to split the bill, paying it all himself and smirking as she scolds him for it because she likes being hard-headed and independent. How much fun she would actually have, and how she would probably be willing to go out on a second date.  

Harry’s comment topples out of his mouth before he can rethink it. 

“I bet I could take you out on a better date.” 

Y/N’s head snaps upwards to meet his gaze, eyebrows jumping in utter shock. She hadn’t been expecting that from him at all. Ever. 

She talks between airy spurts of glee. “That was random.” 

Harry doesn’t return the gesture. In fact, his lips don’t even jolt in the slightest. He simply just stares down at her with seriousness decorating his features, long lashes blinking blankly. He doesn’t know what overcame him to make such a bizarre, uncalled for claim, but he can’t take it back now. And he’s not so sure he wants to, honestly. He knows there’s truth to his belief— he could definitely do a better job of wooing her than that Jesse McCartney wannabe. It’s not like it’s hard.

Aside from that, seeing Y/N out with another man had reminded Harry that their little alliance isn’t anything solid— it’s not bulletproof, and he really shouldn’t be taking it for granted. He’d been so cocky and self-assured about himself and what he has to offer, he’d forgotten that there is always the possibility that Y/N might grow tired of him. It may be a microscopic possibility, but it exists, nonetheless. If he wants to keep her interested, he has to up his game a bit, or she might decide that he isn’t worth keeping around. If he wishes to maintain this favorable arrangement where he gets his intimate tendencies tailored and his supernatural necessities sufficed, he needs to give her a more fulfilling reason to stay. 

Good sex is a very convincing factor, sure, but there might come a time in her life when she wants more than just a no-strings-attached affair. There may come a time when she’ll mature out of this stage and seek something sturdier and safe and anchored. There may come a time when she wants a real relationship, and if he doesn’t keep her occupied, that could be sooner rather than later. And it could be with someone else. He doesn’t want this convenience taken away from him— doesn’t want to lose the thing they have going, which keeps him out of annoying clubs, out of random people’s beds, and gives him the best blood he’s tasted in the last twenty decades. It’s too comfortable and satisfying to let go. He has to keep her hooked somehow, and if taking her on a date can assure that this flawless dream remains intact, then he’ll gladly do it. 

Harry licks his lips slowly, measuring out his next words with immense precision. “I’m being serious. I can definitely do better.” 

A million emotions funnel into Y/N’s eyes at once and he can only pick out a select few: confusion, astonishment, fear, denial, and slight unease. There is the chance that the monster may be interpreting all of the human’s feelings incorrectly because, truth be told, he isn’t the best at gauging or handling sentiments. However, there is one he knows he’s not misjudging— it’s the most evident one of all: Excitement. 

“Think about it for a second, yeah?” Harry starts, shifting in his seat to get a better look at her, raising his eyebrows decisively. “I’ve already gotten in your pants. That means I have no ulterior motive, right?”

Y/N’s own brows kink a smidge. “I...I guess.”

Her friend continues his speech. “Because of that, it means I won’t rush the date, I won’t expect anything from you, and we already get on pretty well, as it is. It’d be a proper good time— a genuine good time.”

The girl’s eyes flicker around different points of his face, trying to make sure he’s not pulling some type of cruel prank. Her tone comes out hesitant and slow. “That makes sense, I suppose.”

Harry squeezes the back of her thigh reassuringly. “It’s all in mathematics, love; everything adds up. It’s truly an ideal situation, if you ask me. Practically utopian.” 

Y/N takes a deep breath, letting it out shakily. This is all so sudden and unexpected, she feels like Harry might burst into laughter any minute and reveal it’s all just a big joke. It’s just not them. It’s out of bound— it scribbles outside the box drawn around their whole dynamic. They were never meant to date, they were just meant to sleep together; they were meant to provide each other with the satisfaction that comes from a real relationship, without all the trials and tribulations. Harry asking her on a date blurs those sacred boundaries in a way she’s not sure she’s ready to face. It could mess everything up. It could not only ruin the fun little arrangement they have going, but it could potentially destroy their entire friendship. Harry is the only person she’s truly connected with since she moved to Los Angeles and risking that bond on an impulsive decision...That’s something she doesn’t think she can afford to do. She can’t survive her new life on her own. This is just too dangerous. Way too dangerous. 

But then again...it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it before. She will admit, there have been instances where she’s pictured her and Harry becoming more than just warm bodies to each other. The two days she spent over at his house the weekend prior had solidified those fantasies and made them more frequent. They just click so well, she knows for a fact they’d make a great team. It’d be like dating a best friend, in a way. They fit one another in a manner she didn’t think was possible, and despite the fact they’ve only been acquainted for just over a month and a half, it feels like they’ve been friends for years. She feels like these types of connections are rare to create and she finds herself wishing it could develop into more. 

But could it really be worth the potential grievance?

Y/N tunes back into reality, gazing up at Harry with reluctant eyes. She’s surprised to find his are full of confident clarity, as if he’s already sold on the idea and had begun planning their outing. He’s simply awaiting her response at this point, thumbing over her knee gently while tucking her hair behind her ear, lips poised into that lopsided simper that makes her heart skip and her nerves glitch. How could she possibly find it in herself to say no to him? 

The mortal clears her throat lightly, gnawing into her cheek as she speaks her next words with airy humor. “So is that your official way of asking me out? ‘Cause if so, that’s not enough. You’re gonna have to do better, love.”

Harry hesitates for a split second, but it’s so fast, his friend doesn’t even take notice. He prays he doesn’t grow to regret this decision. 

The boy nods, pursing his mouth into a small smile. 

“I’m sorry, I don't think I heard you? Must be the AC.” 

Harry rolls his eyes grandly at the stolen joke, which is identical to one he had made two weeks ago when he’d come over for their usual adult pastime and had brought a special toy in tow. 

His mood comes out theatrical, accent heavily exaggerated. “Dear fair maiden, would you be so kind as to do me the impeccable honor of allowing me to bask in your presence by attending a luncheon with me, preferably sometime in the near future? Thank you so much for your consideration. Sincerely signed...” The creature takes a pause, proceeding to sing his next words to the tune of a song they are both familiar with, given their interest in the Hamilton play. “Your Obedient Servant, H dot Styles.” 

Y/N explodes into a series of giggles, shaking her head as she reaches up to peck at his grinning lips. 

“It would be my pleasure.” 

[queenxxxsupreme]

A Soft Heart, A Sweet Soul

A/N: Honestly couldn’t tell you where this came from. It started off as an idea of Kieran coming to Arthur and reader for advice on how to talk to Mary-Beth because I absolutely adore Kieran and Mary-Beth but then it ended up turning into some camp shenanigans and well.... this happened??? This takes place at Horseshoe Overlook.

Warnings: none, this is pure fluff and camp shenanigans

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: Kieran comes to you and Arthur for dating advice. 

**gif isnt mine**

“What’re ya workin’ on?” 

You tore your eyes away from the article of clothing in your hands to watch Arthur. He pulled up a chair just across from you and took out a cigarette.

“Just patching up some clothes. A fella I know likes to go around gettin’ into bar fights and scraps with a whole bunch of wild animals. He’s too hard on his clothes.”

He grunted as he lit the cigarette and leaned back in his seat. 

“I ain’t that hard on clothes.”

“I have to patch somethin’ of yours every other day.” You teased, a grin coming to your lips. 

He swatted a hand playfully at you, shaking his head. 

“I don’t believe it.”

“What’s this from, Arthur?” You held the shirt you were currently working on up to show him the hole in the front of the shirt. 

“That one wasn’t even my fault.” Arthur paused for a moment to look around camp, searching for someone. His eyes landed on Charles, who was brushing down Taima at the hitching posts. “That man over there started a fight in Valentine! Didn’t ya, Charles?”

“Charles would do no such thing.” You looked over at Charles, who wore a faint grin but didn’t look in your direction. “You didn’t start that fight, did you?”

“I didn’t start it, but I did finish it.”

“See, Arthur? He’s too nice.”

“Nice my ass.” Arthur muttered with the cigarette between his lips. “Anyways, the fella I was fightin’ tried to stab me but he wasn’t too good with a knife. Only caught the shirt.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll let that one pass since you did a terrible job at blaming Charles for causing it.” You nodded softly, biting your bottom lip to try to hide a grin. 

“Them pants that you have over your lap have a busted out knee.”

“Yeah, I noticed when I was tryin’ to wash them. What did you do?”

“I, uh, I tripped.” Arthur tried to cough to hide what he was saying but just as he spoke Javier was passing by behind him. 

“You what?”

“Shut up, Javier. This don’t involve you.” Arthur waved Javier off but Javier wasn’t giving up so easily. 

“No, no, it does now.” He put one hand on the back of Arthur’s chair. “What happened, Arthur?”

Arthur grunted and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I tripped goin’ down a hill when I was out.” He shook his head, holding the cigarette between his index and middle finger. “The hills over there in the Grizzlies East are steep. Hosea had me out huntin’ and didn’t warn me that it was so steep. And the rocks were loose under my boots and it all happened so fast-,”

“Poor baby.” You frowned, trying your best to not laugh. Javier didn’t shy away from laughing at him though as he moved away from you, throwing his head back and holding his stomach. The other few people around you, including Charles, Karen, and Hosea, also laughed. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Arthur took a drag from the cigarette. “Laugh at me and my clumsiness.”

You reached over to pat his knee

A comfortable silence seemed to fall over camp. It was rare and peaceful. It was one of those evenings where little was happening. The sun was going down behind the trees and many of the lamps around camp were starting to be turned on. 

Arthur was home before dark for once, which you were thankful for. You rarely got to spend time with him before it was time for bed. It was nice to be able to sit with him, even if you had little chores to do while you sat there. 

“Thank you for doin’ that for me, pumpkin.” Arthur spoke, keeping his voice low so only you could hear him. He leaned forward in his chair, flicking his cigarette down onto the ground and then stepping on to it. Then he moved his chair a little closer to you so that if he wanted to, he could lean forward and kiss you.

“You’re very welcome, darlin’. You know it’s my pleasure.” You flashed him a smile. “I always love hearin’ all these stories about how you tear up your clothes on your adventures. It’s very amusing knowin’ you’re just like a giant clumsy toddler.”

“Are you gonna give me a hard time all night?” He raised a brow at you, a teasing glint flashing in his brilliant blue eyes.

“Oh, you know that’s my favorite thing to do.” You looked down at the shirt to watch where you were pushing the needle through. “If I didn’t give you a hard time, who else would?”

“There’s plenty of people to give me a hard time ‘round here.”

Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Arthur’s attention. He turned his head to see Kieran making his way towards you two. Arthur let out a small sigh and leaned back in his chair, a little irritated that the peaceful moment between you and him had been interrupted. 

“M’sorry to-to bother you, Mr. Morgan, Ms. Y/L/N. I-I just wanna talk to you for-for a minute, Arthur.” Kieran stopped a few feet away from your chairs.

“Me?” Arthur raised his brows, eyes widening slightly. “Why? You got somethin’ planned, O’Driscoll?”

“Arthur!” You scolded him, reaching over and smacking his arm. 

“Ow!”

“I-I’m sorry to bother y’all.” Kieran turned to walk away, shaking his head.

“Kieran, don’t let Arthur’s bad manners scare you away.” You glared at Arthur before bringing your attention to Kieran. “Is it something I could help you with?” 

Arthur ran a hand over his face, knowing very well you’d get after him later for his behavior. 

Kieran didn’t say anything at first. He nervously messed with his hands and looked off to the side. 

You followed his gaze, eyes landing on Mary-Beth. 

“I-I just…. M’not too sure how to, uh, to talk to her, is all.” He spoke quietly. He looked back to you. “I thought maybe since y’all seem like such a nice couple that you might have some good advice you could give. I just don’t-don’t wanna mess nothin’ up.”

“Oh, that’s sweet of you, Kieran.” You smiled, then gestured to the empty chair sitting across the table from you. “Have a seat with us.”

Arthur opened his mouthed to object but decided at the last minute to not say anything about Kieran joining you both at the table. 

“Just ‘cause we seem like a nice couple, don’t mean we are.” Arthur shook his head, motioning to you with his thumb. “She’s meaner than hell.”

“I’m the one sewing the holes you leave behind in your clothes, Mr. Morgan.” You reminded him, a little smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “Once they’re patched up, I’ll sell your clothes in Valentine. Make a decent penny, and buy myself something nice.” 

“That’s a damn good idea.” Arthur chuckled, rubbing his scruffy jaw.

“Now shut up and listen so we can help the kid out.” You put the clothes in your lap on to the table so you could give Kieran your full attention. “Have you tried talking to her at all yet, Kieran?”

Just as Kieran was about to answer, Sean came over to the table. 

“Why do you lot look so dead? Swear there’s more life in a cemetery.”

Your eyes met Arthur’s and he let out a sigh, knowing he’d have to be the one to make the sacrifice and draw Sean away.

“Hey, Sean?” He stood to his feet. “Come with me a second, buddy.” 

“Sure thing, Arthur!”

“Have you tried talking to her, Kieran?” You repeated your question.

“Yeah, a little.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “But it seems…. It-It just don’t feel like it’s goin’ nowhere. It feels like I-Ikeep messin’ up. I just don’t know what to say and-and it’s hard talkin’ to pretty girls. I-I get all nervous and stumble all over my words.”

“Just remember that she’s a person too. It’s okay to be nervous and to mess up with your words. She’s a really sweet girl, Kieran. She won’t think anything of it as long as you’re nice.”

“You think so?”

You nodded your head.

“You should’ve seen Arthur when he and I first started talking.” Your eyes found Arthur. He’d taken Sean across camp and distracted him with something. “He’s not the big brute he likes to make everyone think he is. He’s a sweet man with a big heart. The first time he ever took me out somewhere, he spilt whiskey all over me.”

“Did he really?” Kieran chuckled. “And-And you still talked to him after that?”

“Of course I did. It was an accident. He’s never done anything to hurt me.” You brought your attention back to Kieran. “You’re a good kid, Kieran. All of us here can see that. I’m positive Mary-Beth can see it too.”

“I hope so.” Kieran turned his head to look in her direction. “She’s really nice, Y/N.”

“She is a sweet girl.” You agreed.

“Thank you for talkin’ with me, Y/N.”

“Anytime, Kieran.” You gave him a smile and watched him leave. 

You went back to working on Arthur’s clothes. A little while later, Arthur returned to his seat. 

“That kid needs an off button.” He muttered, glancing over to Sean. “How did talkin’ with Kieran go?”

“Good.” You looked up at Arthur through your lashes. “I told him about how you spilt whiskey on me that time you took me to that dusty old saloon in Montana.”

Arthur groaned.

“Now why would you do that?”

“Because it made him feel better about being so nervous around Mary-Beth.”

Arthur fell silent for a few moments, his eyes finding Kieran and Mary-Beth. The two were sitting near each other chatting quietly. You looked over your shoulder to see what he was looking at. 

“You think they’d be good together? You don’t think he’d….?”

“You’ve got to stop calling him an O’Driscoll, Arthur.” You looked at Arthur then back down to his clothes. “He’s one of us. He saved your life, you know.”

“I know.” Arthur let out a heavy breath. “Just…. Just don’t like it.”

“He’s not like them.” You finished the last stitch on the shirt and tied it off. “You can see it in his eyes, and in the way he interacts with everyone around here. He’s sweet. He just didn’t have the right start at life. Didn’t have the right people around him.”

“Sounds like you’re gettin’ soft on him.”

You rolled your eyes and threw the shirt at Arthur, hitting him in the face with it. 

“You can be such a horse’s ass sometimes, Arthur Morgan.” You stood up and started to move away from the table but Arthur’s hand caught your wrist. 

“I’m just teasin’ you, Y/N.” He put the shirt on the table and then tugged you over to stand between his knees. “Just don’t understand why you’re so keen on helpin’ him. You’re never this nice.”

“I am a very nice person.” You looked down at him, bringing your hands up to cup either side of his face. Your thumb brushed along his cheekbones. 

On his right cheek, there was a faint white line that cut just an inch or so beneath his eye. You focused on that for a few moments. 

“I know a fella that a lot of people think is hard and mean.” You whispered. “Many people wouldn’t think that he likes it when I brush my fingers through his hair at night. Or that when he can’t sleep, he likes to put his head in my lap and listen to me read.”

You were thankful that the sun had finally gone down all the way and that most of the gang was gathered around two of the fires on the other side of camp. They wouldn’t be able to interrupt or witness your moment with Arthur, who very rarely liked any sort of public displays of affection. The ones who did witness it were Mrs. Grimshaw, who had been doing her mother hen rounds to check and make sure everything was in line, and John, who was keeping patrol just outside of camp. Grimshaw pretended to not see anything as she kept walking, humming to herself with a cigarette between her fingers. John smiled a little. It made him happy that someone made Arthur so soft. 

“Who is this fella?” Arthur asked, his voice low and a little raspy. His eyes shut for a moment as you leaned forward to kiss his brow. He settled his hands around your hips, just holding you where you stood between his legs. “Might have to fight him.”

“Silly man.” You giggled softly, running your fingers back through his hair. “I’m a good judge of character, Arthur. Have a little faith in me.”

You started to step away from him. As your touch left him, his hand found yours and he stood up so he could pull you into his arms. 

“I have faith in you. It’s the O’Driscoll I don’t trust.” 

“I’m gonna start keeping count of every time you call him that and there’s gonna be consequences.” You squeezed Arthur’s fingers. 

“What kinda consequences?” A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Ones you won’t like.” You pulled your hand from his and looked around camp. 

Mary-Beth was sitting on her bedroll reading by a lamp. Kieran was brushing down his horse just outside of camp. 

“I’m not saying you have to be friends with him, Arthur.” You turned your attention to him as he stood from his chair. “Just stop callin’ him an O’Driscoll.”

He let out a rather exaggerated sigh and ran a hand over his face.

“If it makes you happy-,”

“It would make me very happy.” 

Arthur narrowed his eyes at you. You innocently smiled. 

“You drive me crazy, woman.” He put his arm around you and started to guide you towards your shared tent. 

“You know you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“Of course not.” He kissed your cheek. “I like the crazy.”

“Did Charles really start that fight in Valentine?”

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