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cooloddball · 3 years

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JIB9 (JIBCON, 2018) ANYALYSIS-PART 1

I never know how to begin these things so let’s just dive in.

Jensen and Misha enter the stage as Alex is leaving. Jensen commends Alex and Misha whistles and Jensen says don’t hurt my ears or something. And so it begin. Misha says he regretted it [whistling] immediately.

I’m hard of hearing you know why because I whistled. This joke didn’t land Misha. Sorry.

Jensen says “Hey” like he wants to say something to the audience but Misha does this weird thing where he runs his index finger down his nose and touches his chin.

I think this was Misha trying to communicate his disappointment that Jensen didn’t get the joke. He wanted him to get the joke. Misha e tries to find his seat so he could sit but Jensen catches on that Misha needs him so he says, “Hey what? I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” Aww :)

Misha leans his ear closer to Jensen and says, and Jensen leans even closer and they have this back and forth banter about not hearing what the other is saying.

To mention something personal, I am usually very uncomfortable when people lean into me, I like my personal space unless it’s someone I’m really close to and even then not always will be with them getting up close and personal.. They seem okay with it so good for them I guess. Personal space who?

“I don’t understand your accent” Misha says. I don’t know if this is an inside joke because Jensen says “shut up,” playfully and they sit down.

Jensen applauds Alex and Misha whistles again and Jensen has to look away faux disappointed because they just talked about whistling. Misha!!! Stop being naughty.

Jensen even rubs his ears to show that he can’t hear properly. LOL.

That’s like super loud dude.

I actually find it really weird when Misha and Jensen call each other dude. It sounds unnatural because Jensen often calls other men-pal, bud, or man and Misha usually uses people’s names or says my friend so and so. So maybe this is what they call each other? I know when I talk to my bf or my friends I call them dude (gn) especially when I’m shocked about something. So, it’s not a biggie. Just noting this because they do this a lot with each other.

Misha does this super cute shoulder shrug with the biggest grin on his face. How can a grown ass man be that adorable. I don’t know how he does it but well he did it and it’s adorable. No wonder Jensen wants to put him in his pocket and take him home.

“I’m compensating.” And he looks at Jensen with this shit eating grin on his face as if challenging him and it’s like Jensen looks like he can’t breathe for a second it was literally three seconds.

“[compensating] For a lot of things that’s wow.” Jensen says. Misha keeps grinning. Of course Jensen would know what Misha is compensating for wouldn’t he?

Should we talk about Alex?” Jensen asks looking at Misha.

Loudly “Yeah.”

“No I don’t think so.”

What did you ask how was the pantheon?

Jesus I love their madness. They play off each other so well.

They say they are working on teaching alex to talk about inappropriate things. Side note: It’s funny though because Alex looks like their love child. He looks like Misha, and to some extent Jensen, his hair, sense of style and even the way he carries himself is all Jensen. So weird. What if –What if---nvm.

Jensen mentions he remembers his first season of spn. Misha looks at Jensen and says no you don’t [remember] and Jensen agrees that he doesn’t. Yes finish each other’s sentences why don’t you? He says he doesn’t remember that far back and Misha has this far away look as if he is trying to remember something and starts laughing and Jensen has this smirk on his face. IDK what is going on but these are moments I wish I could read minds.

The way Jensen is looking at Misha though.

So Misha mentions how Jared pranked Alex during the tattoo scene of s13x02. The moment Misha mentions Jared, Jensen stops smiling.

Knowing what we know now about the fallout I want to mention something. When Misha talks about Jared and his prank on Alex Jensen doesn’t seem too enthusiastic about that. Hmm and he circles back to talk about Alex then he calls Jared a toddler? But Misha makes it sound like Jensen was referring to Alex by saying easy prey .

Misha shows the face Alex makes when they are on set together because of the pranks and the jokes.

Jensen adds, “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you do that?”+ Jensen is so excited. I mean anyone who says this is PR then they are crazy. You can’t fake emotions like that no matter how good of an actor you are.

‘The way Jensen calls Misha ‘this one’ It sounds so couply. Like when one half of a couple says, “this one is always a crying mess when we watch the notebook” or something akin to that. Any that’s just how I interpreted it, I could be wrong.

And this is how Misha is looking at Jensen when he says “this one”

That moment when Misha touches the back of Jensen’s neck and Jensen touches his thigh and they think it’s too gay because because Jensen acts like he just touched dirt and Misha brushes off his thigh and smells it. Now that’s acting.

Jensen checks Misha out (he specifically looks at Misha’s arms) and then asks “how’re you doing bud?”

Misha says good and that cringe moment about clothes sharing starts and oh I can’t look…okay I had to look because cringe. But the way Jensen is looking at Misha is giving me the courage to and also I had to for the sake of this analysis I had to look.

“This morning Jensen was like, ‘hey, here’s that shirt you wanna borrow that shirt to wear to the convention today and I was like ‘no dude I’m not wearing your shirt to the convention to the convention’ and he’s [Jensen] like don’t worry it still has tags on it it’s fine. And I’m like no thanks , I’m not gonna wear your fucking shirt to the convention. And then at lunch I spilled salad dressing all over my shirt like sweet so thanks for the shirt.”

The whole time Misha is telling the story he’s not looking at Jensen he’s looking at the crowd. Jensen on the other hand is checking Misha out while biting his bottom lip. There’s a lot to unpack here.

Jensen: ‘I knew. Umm..”

Misha: “You are like Misha didn’t bring his bib today so…”

Jensen: “He didn’t bring his bib? We are probably having you know some pretty----no I was literally have a shirt that I brought that…cause I try to wear something new for every time there are pictures being taken of me just cause that’s the culture we live in now…”

Interrupting moose enters.

*I will do a comprehensive analysis on the clothes sharing confessions, lies and half truths in another post. Boy (gn) do I have tea.”

I think when Jared is giving Jensen the balloons Jensen asks him if Daniela or someone else sent him to join them but I think he came of his own volition.

Jared is asking Jensen to untie a balloon for him but Jensen doesn’t look too thrilled

Misha must’ve noticed the tension between those two so he asks, “how good a knot did you tie?”

Jensen’s like, “You know what? I tie a knot that a professional knows how to tie.” Okay kinky, tell us more about knots Jensen. (Sorry for this but knowing the A/B/O or rather the Omegaverse was started because of Jensen and now he’s talking about tying a knot and…you know what nvm)

Misha pretends that what Jensen is saying is sus so he and Jared have a back and forth wondering what Jensen is talking about as Jensen unties the balloons. Yeah sure Misha like he hasn’t tied …you know what? This is getting uncomfortable even for me. Can we move on?

But Jensen won’t let me move on because he’s like, “seriously that’s how you tie a knot.” Of course you’d know sir

Jared adds, “Or it’s not” can someone shut this man up, please.

Jensen doesn’t like his friend’s joke and he has something to say about it, “Did he have to join us?” Was this a joke? Was it serious? Who knows but recent events seem to suggest that he might’ve been serious but made it look like a joke.

Jared asks for one balloon and Misha tries to reach for one but Jensen keeps pulling them away so Misha can’t reach. This is so playful and adorable. Misha snags one finally then gives it to Jared. One flies away and he tries to reach for it but he’s not tall enough.

“Do you want some help?” Jared asks and laughs then Misha gives him the finger.

Jensen gets grumpy after Daniela brings Misha a colourless balloon so he hits it with his microphone then he hits his and sits on it and pops it. Fuck that was hot for some weird reason. I could watch him pop balloons all day.

Misha and Jared’s reaction when Jensen sits on the balloon.

Misha tries Miserably to pop his, Jared can’t look, Jensen is still grumpy but the more Misha struggles the happier Jensen gets and he even manages a smile.

This was hilarious though. Their face journeys.

Jared brings a watermelon and gives it to Misha but Jensen slaps it out of his hands and shows he doesn’t want him to do it from the way he’s waving his hand.

The only thing Jensen wants Misha to wrap his legs around is his waist, or his neck or shoulders or whatever. I don’t know which method of wrestling they prefer, I’m not a professional wrestler I mean I’ve watched WWE a few times but-

Jensen seems happy, I don’t know what Misha says to him before he sits but Jensen seems okay until…

Jared hands Misha the pink balloon holder and says, “You gonna want this for later,”

Misha doesn’t look too happy about it either but he’s always a good sport. Poor guy, so he plays a long and looks at the holder which interestingly is pink and phallic. I know Jared was joking and yeah the joke wasn’t that funny but Jensen is super pissed because he asks, “Is he?” looking at the balloon holder.

Jesus Jensen wtf? But I honestly understand him, I mean why would Misha need that weird cheap plastic thing when there was the real thing waiting someone in a pair of Levis.

Jensen says, “well… some parts of this” I can’t quite make out what he says.

Misha tries to make it a light moment by saying it looks like something horrible happened and that gets Jensen to laugh and then Misha bends over to uh..to drop the melon and the phallic object and Jensen’s eyes shoot right down the citrusy-juicy stone fruit goodness. He catches himself looks away and then looks at the crowd while chewing on his bottom lip.

Okay sexual jokes are fun but not every time Jared. I mean c’mon, not everything is a gay sex joke. This is the one thing that sells him out as a straight dude. He makes way too many gay sex jokes it’s not even funny.

They have this weird back and forth about Jared having some notes. Argh. It’s weird. It’s like they are fighting. You see how girls fight and act like like they aren’t fighting but you can sense the seething anger in the undertones of their voices? That’s the vibe I get here. Even Misha is confused because he keeps looking between the two wondering why notes are so important of a discussion that warrants a back and forth. Or maybe it’s just me. IDK.

Misha has to jump in and save the day “He’s [Jared] is just looking through for pictures] Misha explaining to Jensen why Jared has to read the script forty times while Jensen only reads it once. WTF is going on boys? You were doing so well before and now things seem totally awkward *cough*fallout*cough*

Jensen looks totally done like he wants to be anywhere but here, seriously look at him.

It gets so awkward so much so that Misha has to prompt a fan to ask a question. As I said earlier, no one is such a great actor to fake emotions. Jensen keeps proving my theory. Something was going on with j/2 that day and no matter how hard they tried to mask it, it came out and it wasn’t pretty. Then again, maybe it’s just me and nothing was going on.

A fan asks how they like stories to end and before he can answer, Misha quickly glances at Jensen then goes ahead and explains how he likes the story to leave him on a cliffhanger.

Misha has barely finished talking before Jensen chimes in with a “I Do NOT!” Look at Jared’s and Misha’s faces. Something was clearly going on and I think it had something to do with the show because Jensen didn’t seem okay since Jared came on stage. He says how he wants a finality to things otherwise jerks. They were clearly talking about the show, Jensen, for a good actor you are acting really weird. It is about the show because he says, “we are just dead” Something very weird was going on. Maybe at this time they already had had their meeting with TPTB in LA and he was told to take it or leave it and Jared and Kripke didn’t even hear him out. My poor baby, Do all the spin offs King and you should star in all of them like you deserve.

He even says that spn dying is not a finality. He looks super pissed. What did these people (Jared and tptb) do to him? They broke him. He was doing so well.

Luckily a fan asks them if they can dance so Jensen goes to the wheel and Misha gets up. I think he knows Jensen is angry and he has to try to make his man happy the best way he can. Jared is suffering from second hand embarrassment as am I. Jared can’t look, same Jared this is so cringe. But Jensen can’t help himself, as he is coming back from spinning the wheel he checks out Misha’s citrusy-juicy goodness again 🍑

Misha please stop. I love you but this is embarrassing. Okay so let me look at Jensen instead. He looks like those gentlemen waiting for the debutantes at a debutante ball because of the way he’s standing looking at Misha dance. Subtle sir. Very subtle. I mean if my friend was dancing like that I’d be laughing at them not watching longingly. Just saying, but that’s just me.

The way Misha looks at Jensen and starts rolling his hips. Sirs, can you not do your mating dance in public? There are children in the audience.

Even the way Jensen cues in the music so he can dance looks like he’s in the Victorian era asking the music master to play the song he asked to be cued in so he could dance with his sweetheart or something. Am I going crazy? I’m going crazy.

The whole dancing scene was just cringe.

Mish explaining what Castiel does when the boys go to sleep

Hold on, when Jensen asks what Castiel does when the Sam and Dean are asleep in their respective bedrooms, he made sure to emphasize respective bedrooms and we all know the reason why. Stay speaking facts king.

Anyway, when he asks Misha to demonstrate for us what Cas does, did he expect that Cas stands there peeping into Dean’s room and wanks or what did he expect? Honestly I’m just curious, what did he want Misha to demonstrate exactly.

Then he gets up to demonstrate it himself .

When Misha says that the episode will be called ‘I’ll just wait here ten” Jensen unicorn laughs and when he realizes he was laughing to hard at Misha’s joke he says, ”I don’t get it.” Yeah sure Jensen it was clear from how hard you laughing to the point where we could see your tonsils that you didn’t get it. Good one. Misha maintains a serious face and even shakes his head.

A fan asks Misha what Castiel would have in his room. Misha says just a bunch of catnip. I don’t know what is so funny again that it warrants Jensen to hide his face because he’s trying not to laugh too hard. Does the word catnip or Cas being a cat mean something to you? Is it because Misha is cute like a kitten? Do love to rub his tum and hear him purr? Does he rub his nose along your beard like a cat would? What is so funny?

Then Jensen adds, “and kitty litter.” So adorable. I want in on the inside joke.

Misha says that he would have a poster of a cat hanging from a tree that says, “Hey it’s Monday” and Jensen laughs so hard. Then Jensen makes sure to add, “he has that poster in his trailer.” How do you know?

Why are these two dorks so happy about the mention of AU Cas?

Then the way Jensen is excited about asking Misha for a demonstration of AU Cas

WTF am I watching? Help. But the eye fuck and the way the laugh.

Look how hard Jensen is laughing when Misha says what went through his head is that “they met at a club.” Pray for Jensen. He needs help. Serious help because no one is ever that funny all the time Jensen.

You can see how Jensen’s mood changed after Jared said that is the best acting he has ever seen Misha do. Jared seriously read the room. That part of the video has been discussed before so I won’t get into that.

The way Jensen’s eyes widen when Jared says Misha really wants to answer the who is your rock question. It is subtle but it happens. He also raises his eyebrows as if to say “really? leave my husband alone.”

Okay did Jared expect Misha to say Jensen was his rock or??

Jensen is acting weird through Misha’s answer. He’s mostly stoic, like he’s holding his breath? Can I also mention how handsome Misha looks? But I like Misha’s answer and it’s so beautiful that he married his best friend. Everyone who wants to get married should marry their best friend. What do I know though? Marriage is a foreign concept to me.

Jensen asks how many mothers there are in the audience.

Jared carries on with “how many of us have mothers?

Misha: That’s quite an impressive turn out. So many people didn’t raise their hands.

“They are like no I was genetically engineered in a lab.” Okay hear me out. Jensen knows what you know who believe that his kids and Jared’s kids were made in a lab because they couldn’t stand to copulate with their wives because of how much they hate them because Jared is his on true love. If you didn’t know this I’m sorry to divulge this disgusting piece of information to you but you can’t unsee it now so you are welcome. I swear I think this was a jab at them, no one can convince me otherwise.

Even Jared and Misha’s reaction to that is pretty telling. Then Jensen adds “And some of you probably were” I think he means those soulless fans who send their wives and kids threats and also hate on Misha every chance they get. Go off king.

He talks about how his wife is also his rock aww Jensen

Remember how Jensen was being weird during Misha’s answer? Misha is being weird as well, mostly stoic and looking at a fixed spot on the ground. I want to know what was so interesting.

Oh that micro expression from Jared, his right eye widens the moment Jensen says “I have some amazing pebbles in my life.” Did he think Jensen was going to out himself? He was like oh shit oh sit it’s happening.

The glee on Misha’s face when when Jensen calls him a pebble aww Jensen.

I know what I’m about to say is controversial but I think that by pebbles Jensen meant Misha. It doesn’t make sense that he was comparing his wife and his friends. The only person he would relate his wife to is his husband. I know this sounds crazy and people will definitely not be happy about this but that’s my opinion.I I know he loves Jared and he is his bro for life so if he was referring to them both wouldn’t he have pointed to them both?

Jared talks about how sometimes he doesn’t want to burden the people he really loves with what’s on his mind all the time and Jensen points to himself in a very aggressive way. Jesus Jensen way to be subtle. Fuck. Also Jensen nods vigorously when Jared says look for your pebbles because sometimes pebbles are what you need to get back to your rock.

It’s time to sing a hbd song and when Misha asks Jared “did you volunteer for this?” That’s when Jensen places his hand on Misha’s knee and says “I got it” He’s like, babe seriously? You are gonna ask Jared to sing when you know I got the voice for it? Seriously? I’m right here babe. I sing to you every night and you gonna do me like this? I got this and you are mine.

He caresses that leg and gets very comfortable on it, draping his arm from the elbow down on it. Possessive much? It’s clearly not the first time he has parched on that leg. The hand was on that leg for 1 minute and 15 seconds. Yes, I counted.

The intimate way in which Jensen and Misha they are seated is so awkward that Jared scoots away from them.

Damn, son. Jensen’s vocals are out of this world. So good.

Jesus Jared “Deeper, deeper feel it” Is that what they were screaming through the hotel walls last night? Tell us more.

Misha is so uncomfortable and Jensen is so done.

So overall this part was basically cockles being cockles, Jensen being possessive of Misha, Jared being Jared, Jensen being done, the girls are fighting and Misha is the referee.

That’s the end of part 1.

Part 2

#cockles #j2m #cokles jib9 panel #jib9 #jibcon 2018

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 3 years

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bakugou thoughts pt 2001847471 :)))

- if u go to the park, and somebody is like, walking their dog n the animal barks at y’all??? bakugou is barking back. mans full on squares up, n barks at the dog until it backs off

- he rarely gets into shows/series, but when he finds one he likes, he’ll only watch the first few episodes and then make u watch the rest with him. he’ll always say sum “if i dont watch with you, then i gotta make extra time for your needy ass. ‘m prioritizing my fuckin’ time. it doesn’t mean anything, shut up.” ...... he’s lying. it does mean something. it means he wants to share the things he likes with u

- pls he’s so smart, and generally pretty aware, but sometimes he’ll just do something so duMb. like, u kno that thing that happens sometimes with hair?? like, when it sticks to ur fingers and no matter what u do, u can’t get it off?? bakugou is literally breaking his wrist a foot away from u, shaking his hand back and forth and cursing soooo loudly. u just gotta go up to him and gently remove the hair from him like “oh honey- no.”

- peanut gallery comments. lots of them. mans will sit fully dead silent, not talking for the whOle day, but the second u do something embarrassing?? like trip??? suddenly he has a LOT to say ..... smh men

- animals just always like him. its absolutely unexplainable bc he’s so loud n moves super suddenly,,, but the amount of street animals that follow him home is ridiculous. srsly. sometkmes he even has other people’s pets trying to follow him home

- respects absolutely no one n that somehow strangely makes him the most respectful u’ve ever seen??? like- he hates everyone the exact same so u won’t ever catch bakugou in an act of discrimmination

- he can’t draw at all but if u asked him to draw something, it’ll be the same skull every single time. it’s a good skull, but it’s soooo obvious he learned how to draw it from a tutorial in the midst of his emo phase

- will fully make fun of others for baby-talking around their s/o, n then just fully go home n look at you like “tired.” “hungry.” “kiss.”...... like okay baby man, maybe try putting a full sentence together before u start trying to run your mouth. hypocrite.

- probably sleeps like the dead. contrary to popular belief, i absolutely do not believe he’s up at every single noise. man’s could sleep thru an explosion, im sure of it. that being said tho, it’s probably actually hard for him to turn his brain off n fall asleep. he prob goes to bed so “early” bc he has to wind down for a good hr or two until he’s ready to actually sleep

- he’s got a vendetta against salespeople. like, if his phone rings with some bullshit about a product? if somebody, god forbid, tries to walk up to your door? fully frothing at the mouth annoyed. will chew out any employee who’s too underpaid not to listen to him

- eats like an absolute animal. no rlly, its bad. holds his spoon with a fist and digs at his meal like its the gold rush. the worst table manners you’ve ever seen rlly

- he gets sorts antsy if he sits for too long, so he’s always off doing random shit. like, u’ll look out the window n he’s just like, raking the .3 leaves from ur driveway, probably trying to guess where the wind will be so they wont blow back

- ik this with my heart and soul okay,,, bakugou has never had a conversation with u that wasnt from exactly .2 meters away. like,, if he’s comfortable, then he’s just close all the time. like he’s waving his hands around and yelling and you just have to take his face in ur hands and go “im literally right here. ily but pls tone it down for the sake of my hearing.”

- very much guard dog behavior when y’all go out. absolutely will not leave ur side for even a second, like, at a bar or during a concert. even if u go to the bathroom he’s like, leaning against the wall and waiting right outside the door

- gets absolutely bitchy about your phone blowing up while you’re hanging out. its not that he’s suspicious that ur, like, cheating on him, it’s just that he doesnt understand why u’d even leave ur phone on in the first place since he always has his turned off when ur around. if he gets annoyed enough he’ll fully take the phone out of ur hands, say sum “yeah, you don’t fuckin’ need this anymore. you’re done with this.” n toss it across the room while he kisses u senseless

- tbh his ultimate love language is 100% playfighting. v much would go heart eyes if u even seemed like u might try n wrestle him. obvi u dont win, but his favorite is how u laugh while he pins ur hands above ur head

- he sneers at other angry people. will fully, fully sit there like “jesus christ, they need to calm the hell down. annoying as shit- fuckin’ loud too.” ....... -i. who’s gonna tell him

- silent conversations with ur eyes. no rlly. if y’all are with friends and somebody says something questionable, bakugou is immeadiately turning to u, eyes hardly even shifting but u just know he’s hurling insults in his head

- he doesnt realize his own strength sometimes. like- he knows he’s strong, but if u ever open a door n ur like “woah, careful, this is heavier than it looks” bakugou is .2 steps behind u practically ripping the damn thing off it’s hinges. he’ll look at it, huffing like he doesn’f even understand the issue

- he rlly likes when u call him by his name. pet names are fine, but he srsly is super soft for the simple stuff. like when u look over at him, all excited, smile wide like “hey katsuki, u gotta see this! c’mere!”

- his road rage is severe. no rlly. bakugou drives like every day is a race n he’s one win away from going formula one. you’re pretty sure that the only reason he passed his license test is bc the instuctor was too terrified to tell him no

- bakugou probably does that thing where if you’re sitting on the counter top, watching him cook, he’ll stand between ur legs. hands on ur thighs or resting on ur hips while you tell him about your day

- can’t explain this one, but he doesnt kill spiders. he takes them outside. says sum “they eat ticks, idiot. what- you actually want a fuckin’ blood disease? Hah? ‘m not gonna kill it. motherfucker’s gotta earn his keep before dyin’ just like the rest of us.” while he v gently picks the spider up into his hand and walks it outside

- ik that his one cheat food is sugary cereal. like, he’s a health freak, but the one thing he can’t help but make a concession for is sugary cereal on the weekends

- he’ll sometimes get in this over-stimulated mood where everything pisses him off, n the only thing u can do is leave him alone. u learn this quick bc his anger doesn’t discrimminate and if u push him even after he tells u what’s up?? pls bakugou will lash tf out. at u. like, ik y’all like to write it but that whole “it’s okay- it’s just me. just look at me.” thing does not work with him,,, u literally gonna get merc’d if u try

- he’s probably a guy who’s gonna be super big on passing touches. like he drops his hand on ur head when he passes, or bumps his shoulder into urs when he laughs. no footsies tho. too sappy even for him- pls if u tried to initate that he’d crush ur toes under the table aHAHAHA

- feeds every street cat he comes across. is probably super fond of the ones with a bunch of scratches/scars on them. he’d die if u knew, but one time u caught him feeding a scratched up calico n going “bet u beat his stupid ass, right? that’s my girl. we always win, huh?”

—/—

surprise suprise,, my brain rlly never shuts the hell up about this man

#bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha fic #mha bakugou #bakugou headcannon #bakugou hcs #mha headcannons #mha hcs

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drunktuesdays · 2 years

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hi Lea! i love your blog and your fics! i got into wrestling rpf bc of you lol do u have any advice for someone who struggles with their vocabulary when writing fic? I like to think I read a lot but my fics feel very dry

This is SUCH a nice ask, thank you for sending it!!!!!

i think all of us struggle sometimes with thinking our writing is too dry. especially in opening scenes where you're trying really hard to orient your reader in that particular story's space, time, and universe, it's really really easy to focus on the function of the scene and drop style. i've DEFINITELY done it and had to go back and moisten it all up.

i think honestly the best thing you can do is read other people's stuff. read in fandoms you're not in. read anything you find interesting. make notes when you find a phrase that tickles your fancy. don't steal the entire sentence wholesale obviously, but when you like a turn of phrase, remember it. keep a google doc with odds and ends that you enjoy. halfhardtorock had a now-deleted fic where they had derek fingering stiles, and used the phrase "stiles cats into it." objectively insane, you don't really see anyone using cats as a verb like that, but it's so evocative, you can picture exactly what they mean. and i've remembered it for like ten years. and someday i'm gonna be writing the perfect scene for me to use cat as a verb in that way, and it's gonna be glorious. i won't steal the sentence obviously. literally please don't plagiarize anyone, but just appreciate great word choices!!! notice when other people are doing cool things, and take note of what you like about it! discuss it with your friends! i think it makes me a stronger and more thoughtful writer every time i finish a story and then immediately open a (PRIVATE) dm to a friend to dissect everything i liked and everything i would have done different in a work.

the other most valuable piece of advice i think i can pass on is actually a little mortifying, it's like, okay am i going to rec chuck palahniuk right now? unfortunately yes....i can't get the site with the original essay to load so i'm just going to link a tumblr post with it. I don't think it's necessary to actually go through the exercise of BANNING yourself from thought verbs, but it IS really helpful to start picking it out when you realize you're doing too many. i tend not to REALLY love doing a lot of inner monologue, and frankly i'm not that good at it, so it's really helpful for me personally to sit there and say to myself, okay what do i want to convey here and how do i convey it without just saying "dustin thought jim looked hot." it's a good exercise to police yourself about it sometimes, especially if you are worried things are coming out dry. ESPECIALLY check for the thesis statement paragraphs he talks about. that's one of the easiest things you can check and eliminate, because once you start noticing it, you realize how little you need it.

#as always when i talk about my theories of writing and what i think it should look like #i do it with the humility of knowing that this is just what i like and what i think #and i am just a very simple moron #and that a very good writer can break any of these guidelines easily and with ease and i'd probably enjoy it #and if you like writing a different way please enjoy yourself #i am not the cops

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jonnnysuh · 3 years

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Dating Yugyeom would include

Dating GOT7 would include | SERIES

Just based off my observations/my perception of him. Obviously I have no idea what dating him would be like but thought it would be fun to do. This is more playful than romantic bc what is romance???

Literally never shutting the fuck up

Having meaningless fights about little things and then going back to normal

Having your own language that makes no sense to everyone else

Laughing til your stomachs hurt and trying to recreate what just happened but laughing again

Roasting each other as a sign of affection

Too many nicknames that have weird origin stories that y’all can’t remember

Both needing to get your ways so you’ll pout until one of you budges

He is such a simp tho

Mocking each other after someone says absolutely anything

Dance battles

saying “YOOOOOOOU” like soulja boi

Resting his chin on your head

BOYBOYBOYBOY ((((you kno like when they yell like a siren)))

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING” “IM JUST HAPPY”

Having to make the hard decisions for him

Not being able to complete a task bc you’re both so annoyingly distracting

Something that should take 30 minutes to finish takes 3 hours instead

Both being confused all the time so you discuss how things should be done and then fight over it

he’ll purposely hide things to make it hard for you

Holding things over your head bc he wants to watch you jump

“You’re a bully” “you’re a bully too” “ya but it’s only okay if I do it”

Saying the same shit at the same time and hitting each other in excitement

He’s funnier than you but you won’t admit it

SENDING VOICE NOTES INSTEAD OF TEXTING AND YALL HAVE SHORT ATTENTION SPANS SO SOMETIMES IF YOU DONT REPLY IN A FEW MINS YOU FORGET WHAT YOURE SUPPOSED TO SAY SO YOU START A NEW CONVERSATION

He has a meme folder and has a meme for every occasion

Bro he’ll MAKE memes using pictures of you

If he doesn’t reply within a few seconds it’s bc he’s trying to find the perfect meme or making one

A never ending game of iMessage connect 4

How he’d annoy you:

Rock Paper Scissors to get out of doing something but even if he loses he’ll refuse for a bit and then do it

Acting shocked even though he knew something you didn’t

acting like he’s listening but really he’s doing something else

making you call him oppa or he’s not listening

Laying on his shoulder during long car rides

He makes a big deal about your birthday and will plan everything to a t

He sucks at surprises though bc you he tells you everything

it’s always either by accident like he slips it in

OR you’re like “tell me” “no” “fine” “OKAY I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE WE’RE GOING ON A TRIP TO PARIS”

Gossiping with him and he hates all the people you hate and then will also bring up something he heard about them

he would tour new places with you on facetime and bother everyone in the process

the facetime photos you guys take are so frightening and confusing to look back on bc there’s so much movement and emotion on your faces

buying you dessert/pastries when you’re sad

LITERALLY LAUGHING FESTS BEFORE BED

IT’S ALWAYS STUPID BRO

BUT Y'ALL WILL CRY LAUGHING TOGETHER EVERY SINGLE TIME

Y'ALL JUST SAY THE STUPIDEST SHIT

“YOU NEED TO WATCH THIS” SHOVING THE PHONE IN THEIR FACE AND IT’S THE DUMBEST FUCKING VIDEO IN THE UNIVERSE BUT WHY ARE YOU BOTH DYING

Every single one of the boys know he’s whipped and he’s embarrassed but also you’re his person so who wins now

he’s literally so thoughtful

he knows all your favourite songs and makes a playlist

flowers and flowers and flowers

he’ll drop anything he can to be with you

will remember your childhood stories better than you

can finish your sentences

messages you every time you post a new picture

“hey this thing made me think of you” text

gets you guys matching chain bracelets/rings

finishes the food you can’t

doing tiktok dances but not posting them bc you’re both embarrassing

but he will start the video literally ANYWHERE.

on the plane? in the parking lot? at a restaurant?

His hand is always on you especially when you’re walking through a crowd

having to ask him to slow down bc you have short legs

Tippytoing to kiss him

innocent flirting that turns dirty really quick

he definitely likes being small spoon

he talks in his sleep

he has the most irrational fears in the world

“THAT TEXTURE IS SOOOO UGLY I CAN’T LOOK AT IT PLEASEEE”

doing something cute and HE’S JUST SO EASILY LIKE “I LOVE YOU”

always wants to slow dance with you to any song just so he can hold you and lead

he’ll whisper in your ear just to get you hot like fuck offffffffff

his skincare routine takes soo long to do he’ll be in the washroom for 30 minutes

“You’re such a kid”

“Are you a baby?” “YA YOUR BABY”

One of you will start singing and the other joins in but the boys are like shut the fuck uppppp

I feel like he’d like to play wrestle bc this man chooses violence every single time

he can do a perfect impression of you

both of you will up the cheesiness when u notice that it’s making everyone else cringe just to make them cringe more

be prepared to kill the spiders

also be prepared to watch scary movies with the lights on bc he is spooked!

Always saying “woooow” sarcastically when someone does something unimpressive

he is an attention whore so when you’re ignoring him he will do cartwheels🤸🏻‍♀️ and try to be funny

making him blush is so easy it’s like a superpower he just gets flustered

Making a bad decision and saying “yolo ✌️😗”

190 notes · View notes

sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years

Text

you’re someone i just want around: II

“You can call me when you feel like

I’m your good time, I’ll be your temporary fix

You can own me, and we’ll call this what you like

Let me be your goodnight”

-Temporary Fix, One Direction

A/N: honestly can y’all believe @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy and i finished part 2 within a week like what kind of productive hyper fixated legends are we??? if you haven’t heard, this started as a random concept between andrea and i to discuss at 3am and then we accidentally fell in love with vampirerry and his stupid asshole ways and now we’re here!!! we really hope you like this part, and the next parts coming (which are in the works and begin to dive into harry’s tragic backstory because who doesn’t love a lil pain :)))) just a reminder that if you like this, then reblog it!! not just our work but the work of all content creators!!! and feedback is also greatly appreciated 💌

ysijwa masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : andrea’s masterlist

word count: 15.8k

content/warnings: vampire!harry laughing at a mortal not being able to open a door until he realizes his immportal ass can’t come inside, bloody good sex (literally), face f*cking, female-received oral, harry condemning stephanie meyer’s portrayal of vampires, psychological demolition of a quaint bedroom, and a cocky vampire with shitty taste in coffee

///

If Y/N can’t find her goddamn keys, she’s going to lose her mind.

Of course, she may just lose her mind anyways, given the way the handsome, tall, tattooed, and British (because of course he’s British, of fucking course) stranger whose name she can’t quite remember is smearing his lips against hers in the dim light of the hallway outside her apartment. All Y/N wants to do is pull him--Henry? Harrison? --into her apartment, into her bed, and tell him to fuck her until she can’t walk, but the stubborn lock of her door and the strangely bottomless clutch bag in her hand have other plans.

It does occur to Y/N, in a flicker of a drunken thought, that if she took a step back from the man--Hayden? --she may stand a better chance of finding the silver key ring she could swear she tossed in her bag before she left that night, but then the man’s tequila tinted mouth ghosts over hers once more, and the thought burns out completely.

“Y’alright, dove?” The man asks, his pillowy pink lips still hovering over hers as he speaks, low and soft and tantalizing. “Are you going to open the door, or do you want me to take you out here?”

A soft squeak stutters from Y/N at the lewd comment, and the brunette separates from her just enough that she can see the very corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk.

“Sorry.” He says, despite his voice sounding not very sorry at all. “Was that too much?”

“I--no, I just--” Y/N sucks in a deep breath to steady herself, but it backfires when traces of alcohol and his tobacco and vanilla scented cologne catch in the back of her throat. “I can’t find my keys.”

A small chuckle of mirth rolls from the stranger. “You can’t find your keys? Shall I take a look for you?”

The thought of him-- his name starts with an H, she knows it does-- poking around in her bag which, by her normal standards, is quite organized, but by regular standards, is a fucking mess, brings a heated flush to her already warm cheeks. “No, I can get them, just--” Taking another reluctant step back from him, Y/N digs her hand down into her clutch, blindly pressing her fingers into the corners until she feels the touch of cool metal. “Got them!”

“Wonderful.” The man’s irises glint in the flickering hallway light, emerald glee flashing back at Y/N’s own drunken stare. His eyes really are hypnotizing, Y/N thinks, with the way the forest shades seem to swirl around in each other, the way they seem to shine and darken over and over, how--

“Are you going to actually unlock the door, darling?” His lilting accent interrupts Y/N’s mesmerized thoughts as his hands smooth over the small of her back. “Or are we back to the idea of me taking you in the hallway?”

As more embarrassment flushes through Y/N’s body, heating every inch of her skin, she manages to shake her head quickly, the motion making her vision spin. “No, sorry, I--sorry.” She clears her throat once, the alcohol making her tongue feel heavy in her mouth. “Here--”

There’s another peal of laughter from behind her as Y/N spends a moment forcing her key into the lock of her door, having to give it an extra shove with all of her body weight before the stubborn mechanism twists and allows her to swing the door open. With a relieved sigh, Y/N steps over the threshold, noticing that the stranger’s touch has fallen away once she’s inside.

With a confused and heavy glance, Y/N regards the curly-haired boy over her shoulder, turning slowly around to see him standing just outside the step of her apartment. The hands that had just been groping every inch of her that they could get ahold of are now braced against the doorway, his tanned and inked muscles exposed beneath the sleeves of his blue t-shirt that fits him so perfectly, Y/N thinks she may faint. Although his smirk is still tugging at his lips, his eyes have shifted to definitive darkness, and his expression has become more guarded.

“Is everything okay?” Y/N asks slowly, her own brows furrowing to match his own. “Aren’t you going to come in?”

The man’s eyes flash once more, and--Harry! His name is Harry, Y/N remembers, and an alleviant feeling flushes through her veins while she struggles to keep the realization off her face as Harry straightens up to appraise her properly.

As his eyes scan over Y/N’s liquor-loose body, her eyes wide, trusting, and curious, her hair tangled from Harry’s fingers mussing it, a hickey just starting to colour at the base of her neck. The spot sends a flood of venom through Harry’s mouth and he knows that it’s time. The moment that Harry dreads with each drunken club hookup has finally arrived. The moment he has to figure out a way to get whatever poor soul he’s chosen as his midnight snack to explicitly invite him into their home.

There are a lot of abilities that come with being a vampire that Harry is thankful for. The compulsion, he’d learned from his very first day in his afterlife, is one of the most useful and commonly used traits Harry possesses; after all, it’s a lot easier to take a little bite from an unsuspecting college student when you can make them forget it after. The inhuman strength, of course, and the accompanying speed was handy, but mostly used for fun more than anything else. When you barely sleep, you end up with a lot of free time, and impossible strength and speed makes for never ending wrestling matches, races, and various sporting competitions with Niall (they’d tried chess once, but Niall only lasted fifteen minutes before his attention drifted to the scent of a nighttime jogger outside the condo).

However, with all the sweetness that comes with being undead, there’s also the sour. Iron has a tendency to burn the diamond-like skin of a vampire as if they were mere humans being prodded with a white hot brand, which Harry had learned the hard way back in his early days. Stepping out into the sunlight has the same effect. While these two issues could be easily remedied by dipping an iron object into gold, or wearing a sunlight ring respectively, there’s still one downside to life after death that irks Harry every time he’s presented with it.

Like every old folklore about vampires he had ever heard growing up, Harry has to be invited inside before he can cross the threshold of someone’s home.

And, as he’d learned over the years, it has to be an explicit invitation. A beckoning of a hand or head won’t do, nor will a quiet whisper of “Follow me.” No, a resident of the home has to clearly state that they want Harry inside their space, or else he’ll be blocked from crossing under the door frame like there’s an invisible wall that only appears for him.

Given that Harry was raised in a time where proper manners were of the utmost importance, and an invitation had to be extended by a girl’s family before Harry was permitted to step onto the premises of their estate, getting this permission from someone isn’t too difficult for him. However, if his meal is a little too soaked in alcohol, pulling an invitation from their slurring mouths can sometimes prove to be a challenge.

So when Y/N asks if he’s going to come in with confusion clearly tinging her voice, Harry knows he has to play his next moments very carefully. He drops his eyelids halfway, giving her a sultry look that indicates every one of his intentions with her (at least, the ones he wants her to know about). When he answers, his voice is low and drawling, dripping with thirst disguised as need despite the careful cadence of his words. “Do you want me to come in?”

While Y/N’s blood alcohol content is a little higher than usual, she still has enough awareness in her to show her surprise at the question Harry poses.

“Do I--?” She cuts herself off to rephrase her words in an incredulous tone. Was he serious? “You literally had your tongue down my throat a minute ago, and now you’re asking if I want you to come in?”

Harry-- Y/N keeps repeating his name in her head to commit it to memory-- lifts one shoulder in a quick shrugging motion as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this,” He says, motioning between the two of them from outside the door. “Before we go any further. Spoken consent is important, too.”

If Y/N hadn’t already been ready to drop to her knees and do whatever Harry wanted, that one sentence would’ve been enough to pull the reaction from her. It takes every ounce of effort in her slightly intoxicated body to not tug his pants off right there in her doorway, and instead she takes a deep breath, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “Yes.” She tries to keep her voice as steady as she possibly can. “Yes, I want you to come in, Harry.”

The vampire’s nearly blindingly white teeth flash at her as a smile overtakes his face, and he confidently yet slowly strides into her apartment, his eyes flickering over the interior space, but keeping most of their attention trained on her.

As he steps towards her, Y/N steps backwards, leading him down the hallway, past her bathroom and small bedroom, and to the main kitchen and living area. For once, Y/N is thankful that she took the time to do a quick sweep of her apartment the day before, as she would’ve been mortified if Harry had seen her half folded laundry spread out on her couch like it normally is.

“Do you, um--” She clears her throat once as she motions to the bar cart in the corner of the room. “Do you want a drink?”

Harry can’t help the small laugh that peels from his lips. If only Y/N knew, he thinks, as he takes another step closer to her so he can grip her chin between his thumb and forefinger. From the fluttering of her eyes, stuttering of her breath, and the audible increase of blood rushing through her body, concentrating in the areas that interest him the most, Harry can tell that she likes when he displays a dominant air over her. Keeping his voice sultry to hide the growing smugness-- not completely, but enough that he doesn’t sound too cocky, Harry asks what’s meant to be a simple question. “You’re nervous. What’s got you all worked up, hm?”

Tongue unfeeling in her mouth, Y/N struggles to answer as she stumbles over her words, distracted by the feeling of Harry’s ringed thumb caressing her chin, just barely grazing her lips.

“You’re just--I--” She sucks in a quick breath, trying to push down her embarrassment as her voice emerges more breathless than before. “You’re just really hot.”

Ah, the praise. If the pleasure of swallowing down mouthful after mouthful of warm, sweet blood wasn’t Harry’s literal reason for existence, his most favourite thing in the world would be the way humans fawn over him. The beauty of a vampire is part of what lures a human in, and while Harry has foggy memories of being bashful in his human life, he’s fully transformed that part of himself in death.

“Am I?” He asks, and the snarky remark goes straight to the heat between Y/N’s thighs as he drops his face, his cool forehead pressing against her own flushed skin.

Y/N nods slowly, her nose bumping against Harry’s with every motion. “Yeah, you are. I couldn’t believe that…” Her cheeks heat again as she trails off, and it’s only the insistent tap of Harry’s fingers against her hip that make her continue. “Couldn’t believe that you were interested in me. Out of all the girls there…”

Harry uses his grip on her side to tug Y/N closer to him, despite already being only inches apart. Although her scent had hit him like a train back at the club, here, in her own apartment, the fragrance is ten times as intense. Y/N’s personal perfume of honey and lavender lingers in every breath he takes in, drifts off the couch, the throw pillows, the books on the coffee table...everything is drenched in her, and Harry almost feels drunk from it.

“Didn’t care about the others. You--” He catches himself just in time, before the words “you smelled the best” tumble from his open mouth. “You just caught my attention. You looked so shy.” That’s true enough, Harry thinks, as his hand moves from her chin to grip the opposite side of her torso tightly in his large hands. “Wanted to see if I could break through that.”

Y/N yelps softly as Harry picks her up as if she weighs no more than a dandelion picked from a field, and drops her onto the couch behind her. Although the worn fabric of the sofa is familiar, Y/N almost thinks that she should ask Harry to take her to her bedroom. And then she gets a good look at Harry standing over her with lust clouding his jade irises and his lips so red she could name a lipstick after them, and every thought of anything besides him leaves her mind.

Harry straightens his spine after he drops her on the couch, his ringed hands easily finding the buckle of his belt to yank it free from his trousers in one swift motion, letting it fall to the IKEA rug below him. His gaze flickers to lock eyes with Y/N as he fiddles with his zipper, catching and basking in the way her eyes keep falling to the movement.

He can see the neediness that’s practically dripping from her irises just as easily as tears would, and the way she catches her lip between her teeth in impatience forces Harry to bite back a groan. It’s been so long since he had someone so...so fucking delectable, not just in smell, but in their actions.

“Would you like to do it?” Harry asks the question quietly, dancing his fingers over his zipper one last time before letting go.

Y/N’s answering nod is timid, and her actions are almost trancelike as she slowly reaches towards him, but Harry catches her wrist and grips it tightly before she can reach her goal.

Giving her a stern look, he raises his voice a few decibels louder than it was. “Use your words, then, darling. Tell me.”

Harry can smell the flood between her legs as a lustful whimper falls from Y/N’s lips, the desperation that’s coursing through her veins amplifying with every passing moment.

“I want to--” She nearly stutters over the words, and takes a moment to collect herself before continuing in a more self-assured voice. “I want to undress you.”

Harry’s responding smile is so big that, if she weren’t slightly intoxicated, and if there was more than just the light of one lamp illuminating the pair, Y/N might have noticed the sinister glint of his teeth.

“Good girl.” His voice is as smooth as molasses when he praises her. “Go ahead.”

Although her hands are clumsy, Y/N manages to work around the button and zipper of his pants until she can ease the fabric down his legs, her desperation only growing as his boxers-- and the clear outline of his hardening cock-- become visible. The erotic sight pulls a quiet but defined gasp from Y/N as she drags her index finger over the bulge, too entranced in her own actions to catch the way Harry’s eyes roll back into his head at the sensation.

“Oh.” With her heart thumping in her chest, Y/N finally raises her eyes to his. “You’re-- you’re so big, Harry…”

“Is that a problem?” Despite knowing that it isn’t-- and has never been before-- Harry still asks the question, wanting to extract as much praise from the mortal girl as he can before the night is over. He’s always had a bit of a praise kink, adoring the way humans adored him, but there’s something about the voice of the girl in front of him that makes the compliments sound sugar-coated in the best way.

Y/N’s response is so quick and sharp that it almost pulls a laugh from Harry’s chest.

“No.” She insists immediately, giving a rough shake of her head. “No, absolutely not.”

The sides of Harry’s kiss-swollen lips twitch arrogantly, but the next words he speaks are genuine. Although he’s a lot of things, certainly, a careless lover is not one of them.

“If it gets to be too much…” He brings a ringed hand to caress Y/N’s hair, his eyes softening for just a moment. “Don’t hesitate to tell me. I don’t want to do anything if it doesn’t make you feel just as good as it makes me feel.”

And with those words, that same desperation that Y/N had felt when he asked if he could come inside earlier reignites in her belly. It had never gone out, true, but it had dulled to a dim spark for just a moment, yet with the fanning of Harry’s latest words, exploded into a renewed bonfire deep inside her.

“God, I can’t believe you’re real.” Y/N half mutters the words to herself as she scoots towards the edge of the sofa, knees bumping against the front of Harry’s bare calves as he takes a step forward.

With his ring-clad fingers still carding through her hair, Harry guides the girl’s head closer to the tent in his briefs, biting back a chuckle at her comment. God has nothing to do with it.

“I’m real.” He murmurs in a sweet tone. “And now that you know that...what are you going to do?”

Y/N looks up at him through heavy lashes, pressing her trembling lips to the crest of his exposed belly button as a response, dragging damp kisses down his happy trail as she tugs his underwear down his deliciously thick thighs.

“Fuck, that’s it…” The words are strained when they leave Harry’s mouth with a feathery moan, his head throwing back in bliss as he enjoys the teasing actions.

This is always one of his favourite moments, he thinks. The moment his flings-- his girls, as he sometimes affectionately thinks of them, or his boys-- get their lips around him for the first time. Just as mortals fawn over his appearance, they worship his naked body, and his pulsing cock is no exception to that rule. All of his lovers show an eagerness to please him, and Y/N is no different.

When Harry looks back on this moment six months down the road, he’ll curse himself for thinking something so naive, and for believing that Y/N really was no different than anyone else, especially when her smell alone was already enough to send him into a frenzy. But right now, in this moment, she’s just doing exactly what he wants her to. And that’s what he needs.

Y/N slowly wraps her hand around his girth, unable to meet her fingers in the middle as she slowly begins to stroke him.

“You’re so…” She searches her (less, but still a bit) inebriated mind for the right word. Despite hardly having been touched by Harry, her voice is already wrecked. “So pretty.”

The innocuous adjective catches Harry by surprise, but only for a moment before he tugs her hair lightly, stocking the new compliment in the back of his mind for later reflection.

“Give it a little kiss, baby.” He murmurs, the cadence of his voice equal parts soft and dominant. “Show me how pretty you think it is, yeah?”

The request sends a shiver down Y/N’s spine as she complies, watching Harry through thick lashes as she leans forward with lips puckered, gently pressing them to the red and leaking tip of his cock. Another strained moan rolls from his lips as her tongue darts out to carefully collect the precum gathering at his slit.

“That’s a good girl…” The praise that leaves Harry’s mouth is breathless, half whispered as he wraps her hair around his wrist and pulls her forward. “Y’can take a bit more now, dove. C’mon.”

Y/N gingerly takes the head of his cock into her mouth, the underside of his length catching on her bottom lip and earning an elongated hiss from Harry. His own eyes are fluttering as he watches her rub the textured surface of her tongue over him, mewling softly as the taste of his warm precum invades her senses.

The vibrations from the sound of pleasure makes the whites of Harry’s half lidded eyes momentarily tinge blood red as the sensation pinballs up his spine, causing his grip on her roots to tighten. Harry sucks in a deep breath, waiting until he knows his eyes have returned to a more human-like state before drawing her attention back to him as he speaks.

“You look so cute like that.” He coos admiringly, the pads of his fingers careful in massaging her scalp without tangling strands of her hair in his rings. “Y’look like a proper angel with those soft lips wrapped around my cock.”

The filthy comment stokes the fire churning in the pit of Y/N’s stomach as she blinks tears from her eyes. With a stuttering inhale, she tries to carve out a mental foothold in her mind, something to stop her from completely falling into the tension of the atmosphere.

“You taste really good.” She finally whimpers after a moment, the sentence spoken around his prick before she draws him from her mouth. Y/N can see the way Harry’s eyes are glued to the string of saliva connecting his length to her lips, and the uninhibited lustful look almost sends her spiraling completely. Pressing tender kisses up and down his extent, she begins to rub her silky lips along the prominent vein that stretches from his base to the tip.

If she’s going to succumb to the tension, she wants Harry right there beside her.

And from what she can tell, he is. Garbled moans are tearing from his mouth over and over, his large cock twitching within her grasp. When he speaks again, his voice is further from honey than it’s ever been.

“Christ, you’re such a dirty little thing.” Harry growls, raking his hands through her hair once more. “So excited to please, aren’t you?”

“I am.” Y/N whispers the words as she continues to smear kisses along his length, just enough to tease him, but not enough to push him over the edge. There’s a feeling of intense desire rising inside her, not just for her own pleasure, but for his pleasure as well. It’s a new feeling, quite unfamiliar inside her, but then again, why wouldn’t it be? She’s never met anyone like Harry before. She’s never lifted her head to look someone in the eye with their cock at her lips and been so mesmerized by the image of their swollen lips tugged between their teeth, dark eyes hooded with want as they stare back down at her. It’s completely new, and completely everything she’d ever needed.

“Take more, baby. Know you can.” Harry’s words are still growled as he grasps the base of his cock in his large hand, directing it towards her mouth, but pausing just outside of her lips. For a moment, Y/N wonders why he won’t continue, but the quick quirk of his eyebrow raising makes her realize that he’s doing exactly what he did earlier in her doorway.

He’s waiting for an invitation.

A whimpering noise falls out when Y/N opens her mouth wide for him, flattening her tongue and extending it just past her lips so that the textured surface will slide along his expanse as he pushes into her mouth.

A crease appears between Harry’s eyebrows as his face contorts in bliss. “That’s it, darling. Show me how well you suck cock.”

Y/N hums around his length, lifting her hand to replace Harry’s grip, but he grasps her wrist before she can accomplish the task, pushing her hand back down to her thigh and flattening it against the fabric of her pants.

“No hands.” Harry rasps, eyes glinting with dominance. “Just that pretty mouth.”

Despite her vulnerable position, Y/N manages to give half a nod, closing her watering eyes as Harry continues to dive deeper down her throat. She feels the cool touch of his ringed hand against her bulging cheek, his thumb rubbing over the apple of her bone structure in a tender motion that contrasts their actions.

“Look at me.” Harry beckons her gently, but keeps a command in the tone of his voice. When Y/N’s eyes flicker open again, he directs her gaze up to his own as his jade eyes flash darker, pupils dilating ever so slightly.

Despite his very existence being unethical by nature of what he is, Harry doesn’t use compulsion on his partners inside the bedroom (or living room, or car, or wherever else he takes someone for a quick fuck and a bite to eat); he may be a monster, but he’s not a monster. And his mother raised him better than that, even if she didn’t remember doing so. No, if Harry is going to be engaging in a sexual act with anyone, it’ll be something that both parties have consented to while in their right minds.

That being said, he does use his power slightly just to encourage those he spends his nights with to be as honest and free as they’ve ever wanted to be. Meals taste best, he’s found, when his main courses have fully relaxed and unwinded, and Harry is a man-- well, not quite a man, but a being-- of fair play; if he’s going to be taking something from his partners, then he wants them to take something from him, as well. And sometimes humans need a little push to do so.

“You’re going to let go of your inhibitions tonight, do you understand?” Harry speaks in a soothing tone, his voice like a lullaby as he strokes his thumb against Y/N’s skin. “You’re going to do anything you’ve ever wanted to, but been too scared to speak out loud.”

Y/N blinks up at him as her heavy eyelids lift, her own pupils expanding slightly to match his own as Harry’s gentle influence washes over her. Her head jerks in a small nod of agreement, showing the understanding that she can’t quite speak in this position.

Harry rubs over the obvious bulge in her cheek, an imprint of his cock inside her warm mouth. The longer he rests inside her, the more his chest heaves as waves of pleasure begin to lap at the trench of his stomach. The sensation is distracting, and he refocuses himself more intently as a familiar prickling washes across the backs of his eyes. If he doesn’t keep himself in check, his words will be more powerful than he means them to be, and that’s the last thing he wants.

“Don’t be nervous or scared. I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N.” He continues the speech that he has memorized from how often he’s used it during one night stands, keeping his voice light and level. “You can trust me. Do whatever it is you want, and nothing you don’t. You’re safe with me.”

Y/N nods again, the action softer and fainter than it had been before. Harry can practically see the tension releasing from her shoulders. He drags a ringed knuckle across her cheekbone, admiring the sheen of tears gathering on her waterline as a result of his sheer girth.

“What is it you want then, darling?” He asks cooly, pulling back just a tad to give her enough relief to talk around his prick.

Harry watches as Y/N wrings her hands against her thighs, thinking her words through carefully and deliberately as her lashes flutter at the relaxing sensation of him caressing her heated skin. When she speaks, all previous timidness and hesitation is gone from her voice, replaced with unwavering desire that sends a shockwave down Harry’s spine.

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

Y/N sounds so sure of herself, so desperate at the request, that Harry almost grips her head and snaps his hips forward the moment the words leave her mouth. However, years of control and restraint squash that instinct before he can even consider giving into it. Instead, he merely pauses his motions as he contemplates the mortal in front of him, reevaluating the girl he had thought would be bashful and reserved for what seems to be the thousandth time that night.

At the pause in his actions, Y/N’s brows pinch and she stares up at Harry with a confused and almost wounded look, eyelids fluttering as if she’s worried that her blunt request had done something to upset him. Harry, remembering the promise he had just made a moment ago, resumes his reassuring motions against her cheek, not speaking again until he feels the human unwind once more.

Once Y/N is leaning into him again, Harry asks the question that’s been spinning in his mind since she first spoke.

“Have you ever had anyone fuck your mouth before?” He asks curiously, despite being certain he already knows the answer.

Y/N rubs her palms flat over her thighs slowly as she gives the predicted answer in a quiet voice. “No. Never.”

“But you want me to do it.” Although his words indicate a question, Harry phrases it like a statement. He wants her to say it again, he realizes, closing his eyes as he revels in the feeling of her tongue massaging the head of his cock. He needs to hear her say it again.

Y/N complies to his unspoken want. “Yes.” She mumbles around him, and the concentration needed to keep her hands pressed to her lap is apparent all over her face. “I want to make you feel good.”

The pounding of Y/N’s heart is so loud that its thump echoes in Harry’s ears. He can see the pulse of her carotid artery in her strained neck, a warm and real reminder that this girl is alive and burning with need for him. Harry lets out a low moan as his mouth begins to fill with venom once again, watering as if he were a human presented with his favourite meal. Without thinking, he lets his fingers drift from her cheek to her neck, feeling the heated hammering rhythm beneath the icy pads.

All Harry wants to do is take a bite, and his fangs ache at the very thought of sinking his teeth into the young woman’s soft flesh, but he knows he has to restrain himself. She’ll taste so much sweeter post-orgasm, after oxytocin is flowing through her veins, deepening her flavour.

“Alright.” Harry gathers himself as he draws his hand from Y/N’s neck, returning his touch to her chin so she’ll look at him again as his voice takes on a persuasive tone (without adding compulsion-- Harry needs her to be completely aware of her actions). “Keep your hands pressed flat to your thighs. And keep your mouth and throat as open as you can, is that understood?”

Y/N gives a small nod, her jaw starting to ache around Harry’s cock in the most fulfilling fashion. Nerves are beginning to set in again, and she can’t help the shiver that tumbles down her spine and settles in her hands as she tightens them to her legs.

Harry frowns ever so slightly at the change in her demeanor. “You’re alright, pet. You know that, don’t you?” He asks, letting his voice shift to a more tender tone for just a moment. “Let yourself let go. I’ll take good care of you.”

With the calming aspect of Harry’s promise ringing in her ears, quieting the pounding of her own heart that echoes in her head like a drum, Y/N follows his suggestions. The young woman takes a deep breath through her nose to focus herself, and she’s so caught up in the moment— in the way he tastes and feels in her mouth, salty and velvety smooth— that she vaguely wonders how she’ll manage to move at all.

Nevertheless, with the help of Harry’s thumb gliding over her chin in reassurance, Y/N begins to bend to his will, her slightly aching jaw relaxing and shoulders unknotting. Gazing up at him with pliant and moony eyes, she waits for her next set of instructions. She has little experience with this ground— save a few porno videos she’d perused out of curiosity— and for some odd reason, she feels that she can put faith in him to guide her through it.

As if he can sense what she’s waiting for, Harry speaks with a voice that floats through the air softly, thick like syrup and just as appetizing. “Lean back against the couch.”

Y/N does so immediately, slumping into the cushions while making sure to keep her back somewhat straight. Her head rests against the surface, more comfortable than she expected to be (perhaps she’d have to leave that as a review on IKEA’s website; “If you’re interested in getting your face fucked by a stranger you met in a club, this couch is perfect!”) as Harry climbs over her, balancing his knees on either sides of her hips. He’s careful not to rest any weight on Y/N, just as he’s careful to grip the hair along the crown of her head securely, but not roughly. Despite his most basic instincts, he refuses to be rough unless she explicitly asks for it.

Going against his default behavior, Harry finds out with every passing second, is easier said than done. It takes every fiber of his being to internally talk himself into being patient as he watches the mortal lap at his cock with a form of drunken need, the tiny whines escaping the back of her throat only increasing his fervor. With a care that’s only developed over centuries, Harry gradually works his hips forward, sinking deeper into her mouth inch by inch, his half-lidded eyes watching every twitch and flicker of her expression to make sure he’s not crossing any boundaries.

“S’that alright?” His tone holds the weight of the intense control he’s roping around himself, which tightens with every moan-induced vibration he feels around his length.

Y/N responds with an eager bob of her head, a broken mewl, muffled by his cock, encouraging him to go further.

Harry abides, holding her in place by her locks of hair and slowly sliding his hips forward until the base of his cock taps against her wet chin. His free hand rests beside her ear, twisting the navy blue couch cushion into his fist. It’s the only way to keep himself sane, he thinks, especially with how Y/N is ogling up at him with those big innocent eyes, swirling with alcohol yet still so clear, the skin of her cheeks boiling with heated blood as breaths falter past her nostrils.

The sight of the human girl so open and ready for him would have stopped Harry’s heart if it had a beat.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” Harry gets a sudden urge and can’t stop himself from leaning down to press a lingering kiss to the center of her sweaty forehead, right between her brows. Given the nature of his other urges, a tender kiss is one he can let slide. “I’m going to leave your throat so fucking sore.”

The gentle action contrasted with his sinful promise pulls another whine from Y/N’s mouth, quiet and soft and so inaudible that if Harry were human, he might not hear it. And what a shame that would be, he sighs internally, as he tightens his vice-like grasp on her couch cushions, reminding himself not to rip the fragile fabric as he clenches his fist.

Harry holds himself there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of her wet and warm throat contracting around him. Y/N’s eyes, which were watering even before she opened herself up like this, release a small salty tear that traces down her cheekbone. Harry releases a hand’s grip on the couch to wipe the teardrop away with a ringed knuckle. Curiosity is what makes him bring the digit to his mouth, letting his tongue lick off the saline droplet.

It’s a strange flavour, Harry decides as he retracts his finger from his mouth. Salty, yes, but there’s a hint of the same underlying flavours that run through blood, depending on someone’s emotional state. It’s rather refreshing.

Not letting himself waste anymore time on thinking about anything except the girl in front of him, Harry shakes himself from his internal thoughts.

“Hold yourself right there for me, darling.” He says lowly before slowly retracting his hips, watching as his spit-slick cock slips from Y/N’s red lips, her lipstick smudged and faded. He keeps pulling back until just the tip rests on her tongue, and he lets himself enjoy the sight for a moment before he begins to thrust forward again. Repeating the same motion a few times, Harry takes careful and measured breaths through his nose before increasing his speed.

Y/N keeps her damp eyes on Harry with every move of his torso, staying as open for him as he requested. The obedience, trust, and desire written all over her face drives Harry mad.

“That’s— fuck, that’s perfect.” His voice drops lower, the tone smooth as liquid silk while he snaps his hips forward again. “Stay just like that for me, yeah? Like a proper good girl.”

There’s something about the simple praise that incites a craving deep in Y/N’s stomach. As Harry bulges in her throat over and over, her eyes roll back into her head at the foreign yet entirely pleasurable experience, and her insides burn with the sensation of him using her. There’s just something so satisfying about feeling him ram into her mouth, the crescent above her upper lip catching on the bristly hairs that sprinkle in a line down the center of his abdomen. Her nose nudges against the trough of his belly button repeatedly, the picture of his jolting fern tattoos— which she hadn’t even noticed until he was down her throat— becoming blurrier with every slam forward.

Harry doesn’t cap his noises of bliss either, and allows vulgar curses and grunts to slip down his tongue freely. Through a clenched jaw and bared teeth, he pants about how well she’s doing and how good she’s taking it, feeding the boiling satisfaction in her veins. She wants to please him. She needs to please him.

“God, look at you.” He begins tugging and pushing her head to match his thrusts, his fangs poking along the inside of his bottom lip as he feels how strong her heart is beating. He can feel the thundering pulse through her mouth, stringing right up his prick and deepening the thirst burning along the back of his tongue. “Taking that cock and loving every single bit of it. You like this? Like it when I use that pretty little mouth to make myself feel good?”

Y/N chokes out a shattered whimper of agreement, sniffling a gasp when his pace speeds up a smidge.

“Fucking hell, you’re filthy. S’always the quiet ones, isn’t it?” Harry rasps, the words flowing from his flushed mouth as he sucks in breaths between phrases.

Although his rings dig into her scalp, Y/N doesn’t alert him of it. If anything, she enjoys the minimal flare of pain the action brings, almost as much as she enjoys the way he gazes down at her with an open-mouthed simper, electricity coursing through the specks of gold around his pupils, head bobbing back and forth along to his steady stride.

“Shy girls like you are just nervous to say what they really want until the right person comes along. Isn’t that right, baby?” Harry can’t help the filthy exclamations spitting from his mouth, and he doesn’t want to. From his first remark, Y/N was hooked on every dirty claim, and if she wants to hear more, who is he to rob her of that? “You were just sitting there all prim and proper, waiting to find someone who could give you what you wanted. Someone who isn’t afraid to fuck you how you like it.”

Y/N’s hands tighten into loose fists in her lap, itching to grab onto the plushness of his hips and drag her fingers up his lean stomach, to feel it contract beneath her fingertips as Harry chases his high. And Harry can see her intention, any pleading she’d normally vocalize funneling into her watery eyes. The way she’s silently begging him to allow her to touch him is bound to dismantle him quickly. Too quickly, if he doesn’t keep himself on track.

Of course, there’s a voice in the back of Harry’s head, his most repressed instinct, telling him to do just that. The voice tells him to quicken his thrusts, push himself down Y/N’s throat as deep as he can, and release in her mouth before lifting her like a rag doll and biting into her neck to satiate the thirst that’s been burning in the back of his throat since he first caught her scent at the bar. But Harry suppresses that instinct far back down inside himself once again before slowly removing his cock from Y/N’s mouth. If he’s going to cum, he wants it to be inside her. It has to be inside of her. And he doesn’t want to be done just yet.

The moment Harry’s prick slips out of her mouth, Y/N gasps, drool slipping from the corner of her lips like the tears from her eyes. Despite her wrecked appearance and the soreness beginning to ache in the back of her throat, there’s a whine of displeasure mixed with her gasps as her glossy eyes track Harry’s movements. “Where—where are you going?”

The human girl’s eagerness for him brings a small yet pleased smile to Harry’s face, and he lets one chilly hand rest on her heated cheek as he climbs down from his position on the couch.

“There’s so much more for us to do tonight, angel.” An amused chuckle sounds from his throat as he straightens himself up. “Did you really think a quick blowie was all I wanted from you?”

Y/N wipes the edge of her mouth, smearing whatever lipstick had been left on her skin after Harry finished. “I would hope not.” She murmurs truthfully, managing to raise her brows in judgement. While she’d normally never sass somebody that easily, especially someone she barely knows, she feels that it’s acceptable given that this stranger had been shoved down her throat moments ago, spewing explicit comments about her without a single issue.

Y/N’s cheeks burn as Harry’s crude words from before run through her mind like an audio recording. She definitely has the right to sass him.

The way Harry grips her tired jaw firmly, however, tilting her chin upwards while leaning down to ghost his cherry lips over her own swollen pair, has her rethinking that within seconds.

Y/N knows that she should be embarrassed that all it takes is a touch to her chin and one kiss to send her back into a submissive state, but she can’t bring herself to care in the moment, especially as a few rogue curls fall across Harry’s forehead and frame the edges of his face. The stray strands give the dominant man a less intimidating appearance. Just less intense, Y/N thinks. Maybe even soft. She’d gotten so caught up in the whirlwind of dirty promises and brazen actions that she had failed to notice that the young man before her is exactly that— a young man. A young man with wild eyes, a strong grip, and a stern hold on her within just a few hours of meeting. But even with the reminder that Harry is around her age, Y/N can see that he carries himself with the confidence and persona of someone much older, hinting that he has much more experience than any normal adult in their twenties would have.

The possibility of where his extensive expertise and skills could apply to makes her stomach flutter.

Y/N thinks she might get lost in the feeling, until a tiny shot of pain snaps her out of her head. Her bottom lip throbs between Harry’s teeth after he’s captured it, his nose smudging along the bridge of her own, a messy action that he somehow makes thoughtful and concise. His eyes are the color of a forest at midnight, and when he speaks, his tone comes out even, yet commanding and assured in the most attractive sense.

“Take off your clothes.”

The order sends a rush of heat to Y/N’s core as her half-lidded eyes flutter, and she feels a pull in her to comply as Harry releases her lip from his teeth. Her hands reach for the hem of her blouse that’s already half-untucked from Harry’s wandering touch, but she pauses, fingers still gripping the sheer fabric.

“Will you—?” Y/N cuts herself off abruptly, tongue licking over the sting in her lip as she rephrases her speech. “I want you to help me.”

The simple request knocks the breath from Harry’s lungs so fast that he’s lucky he doesn’t actually need it to function. It takes him a moment to center himself enough so that he can suck in sharp breath to regain his dominance.

“Do you?” Harry does his best to keep his voice steady as he kinks a brow and leans back from Y/N, strong hands replacing her own at the hem of her shirt. He clicks his tongue against his teeth as he pulls her hold away, his fingers resting just over her racing pulse point. “Let go, then. Arms up.”

Once Y/N’s arms are in the air, Harry has no trouble removing her shirt, tossing the delicate fabric to the side before working his fingers around to the band of her pink lace bra. The scent of Y/N’s heated skin is too much for him to resist, all lavender and liquor, and he begins to pepper kisses along her collarbones and neck, making sure his teeth are hidden behind his pillowy lips. The task is easier said than done, especially when Harry can feel the human’s heartbeat throb beneath his touch, but he manages to restrain himself from taking a bite. It’ll come in due time, he knows it. His thirst will be handled, Y/N just needs to be taken care of first.

With another flick of his hand, Y/N’s bra joins her shirt in a puddle on the floor. Now that there are no barriers between Harry and her soft, supple skin, his hands travel to her bare chest, cupping and tweaking and massaging, pulling every sound imaginable out of Y/N as he touches her.

“Harry, I—“ Y/N can barely form a sentence as Harry synchronizes a wet kiss on her neck and a quick tug on her nipple, his lips smirked against her skin. “Oh...”

“What’s the matter, love?” The breathless, incoherent moans leaving Y/N’s mouth make Harry’s smirk widen. “Cat got your tongue?”

Despite the warmth rising to Y/N’s cheeks, she manages to sound indignant as she shoots Harry as much of a glare as she can muster with his hands on her breasts. “Shut up.”

Harry hums in response, sending vibrations down the length of Y/N’s throat. “Mm. I suppose I could use my mouth for something else…”

It’s almost comical how quickly Y/N’s heart rate increases at that comment. It would be comical, Harry thinks, if the pulsing of her neck didn’t excite Harry’s cock the way it does. As much as he pretends otherwise, he needs this as much as she does. Even more, if the dull ache running down the back of his jugular is any indication.

The vampire detaches his mouth from the girl’s neck, promising himself he’ll return there later once he’s properly prepared his dinner. While Y/N’s sweet-smelling blood is his main course of the night, he still has an appetizer sitting in front of him that he has yet to taste.

Harry’s shirt quickly joins the growing stack of clothing on the floor before his trousers do. He allows himself one ghost of a stroke on his cock, still slick with Y/N’s spit, but only to tease himself.

“Lay back down.” He demands, tucking himself back in his boxers before getting to his knees. Y/N watches the movement with hungry eyes, lip trapped beneath her own teeth just as Harry had done a few minutes ago.

“C’mon, love, don’t stop behaving now.” Harry chides her, smoothing his ringed hands over the fabric of her flowy pants before finding the button. “Lay down.”

At the repeat of the command, Y/N obeys him, wordlessly lifting her hips so Harry can tug down her now unbuttoned bottoms. He only gets the material halfway down her thighs before her scent hits him like a fucking truck, and then any semblance of rational thought leaves Harry’s mind completely.

If Y/N’s blood is a finely aged wine with notes of lavender and honey scattered throughout its bouquet, something that deserves to be sipped out of a fine crystal goblet and worshipped, then what lies between Y/N’s thighs is the most delectable tequila Harry has ever had the pleasure of tasting in his two hundred years, her signature honey scent still detectable beneath it all.

Harry’s hands are almost a blur as he reaches back up and hooks his fingers into the waistband of her underwear, tugging them down to meet the waist of her bottoms before pulling both articles off completely and throwing them to the side. He parts her legs just as quickly, and before Y/N can even say anything, his mouth is against her core, sedating his need the only way he can at this moment.

“Oh--!” A squeak of surprise falls from Y/N’s lips as one hand finds Harry’s curls, twisting into them tightly as her other finds her own hair. With her eyes falling closed, she misses the crimson hue that flashes through Harry’s emerald irises with every moan.

Harry’s control is beginning to slip, and he knows that. It would be frustrating, honestly, if it didn’t feel so fucking good. It’s been so long since he’s felt so feral for someone, so desperate— truly desperate— to press himself as close as possible to them, to lap up anything they’ll give him, and that’s all he wants to do right now. Harry’s nose nudges against Y/N’s clit, pulling another searing mewl from her throat as his tongue darts into her entrance. Every one of his heightened senses is filled with Y/N, consumed with every inch of her; her fragrance fogs his mind, her taste coats his tongue, and her soft thighs dimple beneath his grip that keeps her spread. The sensation of her hands tugging at his hair is the only thing keeping him grounded.

Flicking his tongue over her clit once more, Harry revels in the broken sounds spilling from above, audible proof that he’s making her fall apart with his mouth just as much as she did to him. It brings a sense of pride to Harry’s chest-- he doesn’t just take from his partners. He gives in return.

“H-Harry--” Y/N pants his name in a shattered voice, her face screwed up in pleasure as she drags her hand from her hair to her chest, gripping her own breasts in her palm as her chest heaves.

It’s not as though Y/N hasn’t had her fair share of sex, and she’s most certainly had someone go down on her before. The problem, she just manages to think as Harry suctions his lips over her clit, is that it’s never felt like this before.

In this moment, with Harry’s mouth working over her as if she was his last meal, Y/N would give up everything to memorize the sight and sensation of this man on his knees for her. Everything, from the filthy noises that slip from his mouth between movements, to the way his irises darken with every passing moment, indicates that Harry is just as into that scenario as she is. And that’s what it is, really. What sets Harry apart from anyone else she’s ever had. Any other man that’s gone down on her has treated it like a chore, while Harry—

“You’re fucking delectable, y’know that?” He rasps, the vibrations of his words rolling over her core with every phrase. “Like dessert. The sweetest fucking thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Y/N drags her hand back up to her mouth, wedging her index finger between her teeth to stifle the borderline embarrassing moans threatening to overflow. “I’m—I’m so close, Harry...you’re gonna make me cum…”

“Mhmm.” Harry hums against her clit in agreement, stroking his tongue along her dripping opening once more before pulling away. “But not right now. You’re going to cum around my cock.”

Although Harry makes it sound like he’s teasing her, taunting her by holding her orgasm off until the very last second, he knows the truth: if Y/N were to cum right now, if her body were to shudder and give into every request Harry’s tongue is pulling from her, then Harry wouldn’t be able to take it. If Y/N were to cum with his head still buried between her thighs, it would only be a fraction of a second before Harry’s teeth would be buried in them instead.

Restraint, he tells himself as he slowly rises from his knees, reaching for Y/N’s face and gripping her cheeks in one hand as he steals a rough kiss from her supple lips. Restraint. Everything will come in due time.

“Wait—” Y/N makes a sound of protest as she falls back from the kiss. Although it’s a struggle for her to form a functioning and coherent thought, she needs to do it. “I— are you clean?”

Harry cocks his head to the side, the blunt and laughable response of “I’m dead, darling.” hanging on the tip of his tongue. He should add that to his list of vampire perks, he thinks. He already caught the worst thing anyone can catch— death— which means STDs and pregnancy scares are the furthest thing from his mind during sex.

Instead of that complicated answer, however, Harry opts for something simpler.

“Yes. Scout’s honour.” He assures her with a quick nod of his head. For the sake of appearances, he poses a question back to her. “What about you? Are you on birth control?”

A flash of relief lights up Y/N’s eyes. “Mhmm. And I’m on the pill, so…” Her cheeks burn beneath Harry’s touch. “We’re, um, we’re good to go.”

A choked laugh sounds from Harry’s throat as he shakes his head, smudging another kiss at the corner of Y/N’s mouth. “We’re good to go, are we? I’m glad to hear it.”

All of his teasing is for one purpose and one purpose only: to hear Y/N’s heartbeat spike in intensity and speed. When his comment easily receives the desired reaction, Harry brushes his fingers along the girl’s pulse point as he drifts his lips to her ear, grazing the cartilage with his teeth.

“Bend over.” He murmurs, accent thick as it rings in her ear. “I want you on your hand and knees for me.”

Y/N grips his tattooed shoulder tightly in her hands, kissing him one more time before obeying the directions offered. It takes her a moment to turn over on the couch and situate herself comfortably on her knees, bracing her hands on the back of the cushion as Harry’s strong grip finds her hips.

“You have the prettiest arse.” He smooths his hands over her backside as he speaks, admiring the softness of her skin beneath his calloused palms. “You’d look so pretty covered in marks, wouldn’t you?”

“I-I think so.” Y/N agrees breathlessly, glancing over her shoulder at the wild look in Harry’s eyes. He winks at her when he catches her gaze, tapping his fingers against her lower backside before spreading her legs apart more.

“Don’t worry, love. Won’t be doing that to you tonight. Don’t have the patience, honestly.” Harry keeps his tone casual, which is a miracle, Y/N thinks, considering he’s completely stripped himself and is stroking his hard cock as he speaks. The cadence of his voice in contrast with his actions makes her shiver, and the anticipation only crescendos when Harry rubs the tip of his prick against her soaked slit.

“‘M going to start, alright?” Harry’s voice is tight, and he’s barely able to wait for a sound of acknowledgement from Y/N before he begins to part her folds with his cock.

The relief is simultaneously instantaneous and completely out of reach. Yes, the wet and burning heat of her walls squeezing him satisfies the deep pulsing in the pit of his stomach, but it does nothing for the dry heat in the back of his throat. If anything, being so close to her is only a reminder of what he really, truly needs.

Harry forces himself to thrust slowly, to exercise the control he’s usually so good at displaying. Patience, he repeats to himself. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Focus on what’s happening in the moment.

And then he bottoms out, his pelvis pressing flat against Y/N’s soft flesh as her spongy walls squeeze him. Y/N lets out a moan so filthy that Harry’s knees buckle and every ounce of restraint disappears from his body.

“Fucking hell--” His voice doesn’t even sound his own as he digs the pads of his fingers into Y/N’s hips, surely leaving bruises that will blossom before the sun rises. He begins to quicken his thrusts as the sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, accompanied by the whimpers echoing from Y/N’s lips and the grunts falling from his own. With every stroke, Y/N’s fragrance fills the air more and more, pulling him further into a cloud of lust and hunger with every ragged breath he sucks through gritted teeth. When he sees the throbbing of Y/N’s veins in her neck, flashing at him like a signal, teasing him to the point of no return, Harry’s instincts grow louder, overshadowing any ounce of control he has left.

He grips the girl’s shoulder roughly, tugging her body up from its bent position to press flat against his sweaty inked chest. Once she’s in the desired position, Harry’s hand travels to her neck, squeezing just enough to win a choked moan from Y/N’s lips.

“Fuck, Harry--” She whines breathlessly, arching her back as she reaches to tangle her own fingers in his knotted curls. Her harsh tug pulls another groan from Harry’s swollen lips as they hover just over her neck, brushing against her hot skin with every ram. Her smell is so intoxicating, he could just--

And then he feels Y/N’s own lips on his neck and his senses overwhelm.

Even before Harry was turned, he had been a creature centered around touch. Of course, in the 1800s, touch was something that was fairly forbidden between anyone who was less than married, save for a rare dance at a ball with a beautiful girl. The first time Harry had been touched in this way, it had been by a young woman he has since tried so hard to block out of his memory. It had set his skin on fire, a feeling that never quite went away, even after her fingers had left his wrist that very first day. It was like she’d left an imprint on him, a candle burning in the window of his heart so that she’d be able to find her way back whenever she wanted to. And then her last touch had burned him more than he ever thought possible. If he closed his eyes, he could still feel the whitehot pain as she cradled his head between her palms, still hear her soft, accented voice in his ear, reassuring him that everything would be alright, the sick sound of his own neck snapping--

He just doesn’t let people touch him there. Ever.

Harry’s hand tightens around Y/N’s throat, just for a moment, before guiding her kisses from the sensitive area to his collarbones. The memory still seems just as fresh and poignant in his mind as the day it happened, with time healing nothing, and Harry has to remind himself that he’s not that person anymore. He’s different now. He’s the one in control.

“I’m close, Harry--” Y/N’s sweet voice is a welcome reminder of where he is, cutting through his thoughts like a bird song cuts through a quiet morning. “Shit, I’m so close.”

“I know.” Harry growls the words into her ear as he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along her jugular. He can smell it on her, how her blood is sweetening with every passing moment, like a fruit ripening for picking. “Cum for me, pet. C’mon. Y’can let go.”

Y/N takes his words to heart, throwing her head back onto Harry’s muscled shoulder as her orgasm builds to its peak. Harry can feel it-- how she contracts around him, how her juices drip down his cock and onto his thighs, how her pulse quickens beneath his lips.

And then Y/N cries out as she falls over the edge, Harry’s self control crumbling the moment he feels it, and the vampire sinks his teeth into the supple flesh of the mortal’s neck.

Y/N’s cry of surprise quickly turns into a moan as Harry’s venom begins to race through her bloodstream, the chemical hormones calming and sedating her in order to allow him to drink as much as he’d like. Normally, Harry waits until his partners are fast asleep, tired from their activities, but Y/N’s scent is so overpowering and consuming that, honestly, it’s a wonder he’s managed to keep himself together this long. And the moment Y/N’s blood washes over his tongue, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be so controlled again.

There are flavours that he predicted: honey, lavender, vanilla, a hint of the alcohol she poured back earlier, all sugared by the orgasm currently coursing through her body. But there’s something else underneath, too. A depth of flavour that he can’t quite place. Something he’s never experienced before. From the first taste, Harry knows he’s hooked. Every drink he’s had before this moment has paled in comparison, and he knows he’ll spend the rest of his life combing the Earth before he finds another that could match .

“H-Harry…” A gentle whimper falls from Y/N’s mouth as the waves of her climax finally recede. “Feels so good.”

Harry hums against her skin as he quickens his thrusts. As satisfying as drinking from the young woman is, now that his thirst is somewhat quenched, the need for his own orgasm increases.

“You’re gonna make me cum, y’know that?” Harry breathes against her skin, sucking one last gulp down before running his tongue over the bite. He’ll properly heal her once she’s asleep, but for now, the venom will form a temporary seal over the bite. And, honestly, Y/N appears to be too caught up in her own pleasure to notice the new mark on her neck. “Squeezing me so fucking tight...taking my cock like the good girl you are…”

Y/N’s head lulls back onto Harry’s shoulder, her hot breath panting in his ear as she begins to reach the point of overstimulation. “Please, Harry...want you to cum…”

“Yeah?” Harry pants roughly, licking his red-stained lips as his pelvis snaps against her. “You want me to cum for you? Want me to--fucking--give you--Christ--”

Harry usually pulls out before cumming, but his orgasm crashes over him so suddenly that he doesn’t have the chance. Instead, he buries himself to the hilt, throwing his head back in ecstasy, mouth wide open as a deep groan vibrates in his chest while thick ropes spill inside Y/N.

Even with his supernatural stamina, Harry is exhausted after he comes down from his high. It takes him a moment to collect himself enough to pull out, exhales hot and heavy in Y/N’s ear as he gathers his thoughts for his next move.

“Where--” He pants between his words as he watches the girl’s eyes flutter. “D’you have a cloth, or…?”

“There’s some--some paper towels in the kitchen.” Y/N nods her head to the right, her own chest still heaving with exertion.

Harry nods quickly, sponging his stained lips to her shoulder before climbing down from the couch. He hurriedly paces into the kitchen and locates the napkins, ripping off a few squares and wetting it under the sink before he returns.

“Bend over.” He says again, but the tone of the phrase is entirely different than it was earlier. He’s not desperate with thirst or lust anymore, but instead has settled into his role of providing aftercare.

Y/N, however, still has the same obedient reaction, and folds herself over the backrest of the couch, forehead braces against the cushions as Harry quickly but carefully cleans up the cum dripping from between her thighs.

“You’re so polite, y’know that?” She can’t help but giggle to herself, glimpsing back at him from between her parted legs. “Cleaning up the mess you made.”

Harry’s chuckle matches her own as he gives her one final wipe and a jesting smack to the ass, returning to toss the paper towel away. His voice carries from the other section of the flat. “S’only fair. I was raised right.”

Y/N hums in her throat in response as she climbs down from the couch, soreness already beginning to settle into her limbs in the most delightful way. She crosses her arms over her chest, still self-conscious despite Harry literally spreading her open only moments ago.

“Are you, um--” Her voice cracks, bringing a new wave of heat to her face as she clears her throat. “You can stay the night. If you’d like.”

Harry, who has ducked back into the living room area and is reaching for his discarded top on her floor, raises an eyebrow as he picks up the pastel blue t-shirt and turns it right side out. The puppy drawing smiles up at him ironically. “Yeah? You sure?”

“Yeah.” Y/N nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. He can see his teeth marked all across the silky skin. “It’s late. And I normally like to have a bit of a cuddle with someone after they cum inside me.”

A surprised snort sounds from Harry’s chest. “I suppose I can’t refuse that.” He says in understanding entertainment, holding out his tee to her as an offering. “Here. If you’d like to cover yourself…”

Y/N accepts the article gratefully, pulling it over her exposed body. The shirt falls just past her bum, covering her enough that she can let her arms drop to her sides. She likes the way his clothes fit her. “Thank you. Do you want something to sleep in...?”

“I prefer going bare, actually.” Harry says in a cheeky tone, running a jeweled hand through his sex-mussed curls as he smirks. “Much more comfortable.”

Y/N laughs quietly, shaking her head in half disbelief, half amusement. “Of course you do.” She says with a roll of her eyes, holding out a hand for Harry to take. “C’mon, let’s go to bed. I’m fucking exhausted.”

Harry sews his fingers between her own, replying with a cheeky squeeze and a smug tone. “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” Y/N laughs again, but she doesn’t mind the cockiness behind Harry’s quip. If anything, the banter reassures her. She’d take a smug reply over awkward post-hookup silence any day.

And maybe if the lingering buzz from the alcohol wasn’t fogging her eyes, and maybe if the intense aftermath of endorphins wasn’t clouding her mind, and maybe if she wasn’t distracted by how strangely comfortable it feels to joke around with Harry, Y/N would have noticed. She would have noticed it the instant she took his hand within her own. She would have noticed it when she had stepped into the hallway and gently tugged him after her playfully, the dim lightning from the single lamp in the living room coffee table casting a shadow across his figure and over the handsome features on his face. Maybe, if it wasn’t for all of that, she would have noticed that the jade of his irises was long gone, replaced by an ominous red hue with the same dangerous glint that had been present at the bar. She would have noticed that this time around, it carried very different intentions. She would have noticed how, after she climbed into her own bed after Harry, after he pulled her into his strong arms, and after she had laid her tired head onto his chest, that there was no heartbeat to greet her ears.

But she doesn’t notice it. And it only takes a moment for her eyes to drift shut in blissful ignorance, lulled by the sound of Harry’s breathing. Only Harry’s breathing.

///

It takes fifteen minutes for Harry to realize that he didn’t really think this through.

At the moment, when Y/N asked him to stay over, and he was still high on his last orgasm and on the lingering taste of her blood along the arch of his tongue, it seemed like a good idea. He could stay the night, he thought. He, just like she had mentioned about herself, was fond of cuddling after sex, and it wasn’t often that he got to have that. Perhaps it would be a nice way to cap off the night, he’d rationalized, and so he’d allowed the mortal girl to lead him to her bed for entirely innocent reasons (innocent only because they’d finished everything sinful in her living room).

And then Y/N fell asleep on Harry, and he remembered why he doesn’t ever spend the night at a one night stand’s place.

Harry is bored.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t sleep, because he does. Stephanie Meyer got that wrong in those insipid books that have haunted Harry since 2008, but that wasn’t surprising, considering that Harry doesn’t sparkle in the sun, either. Granted, if he steps into daylight without his lionhead ring, his skin will blister and burn until it falls off his body, but he won’t sparkle, and frankly, he’s offended that everyone thinks that he will. He also can’t read minds, although he wouldn’t mind it if he could. And he does need sleep. Just not as often as a regular mortal.

With increased stamina means increased everything, including how long Harry can go without sleeping. Although he slept more often when he was first turned out of habit, Harry finds that he can go two or three weeks, or even a month, without having to rest his body and mind. And even when he does finally manage to fall into a peaceful state, it’s only for a few hours before he wakes up involuntarily. It’s just as well. He doesn’t like to be unaware for that long. It’s in his nature to be alert, and he likes it that way. And because he doesn’t need to spend eight hours unconscious every night, Harry finds that he gets a lot more done in his life.

Except now, when he’s stuck under the body of a fragile and depleted human.

When Harry falls into bed with a partner, he’s normally itching for them to fall asleep so he can sink his fangs into their necks and take what he wanted all along. And then, after his thirst and libido are both satiated, Harry will climb out of bed, dress himself in whatever outfit he’d dragged himself to the club in, and make his way back to his condo before the sun begins to rise on the horizon. Simple as that.

But even he has to admit, he thinks as he ghosts his fingers down the barely healed mark on Y/N’s neck, that he’d gotten a little out of control tonight. He’d been so carried away by her touch, her sensations, her scent, that he’d lost his usual patience and bit her mid thrust. Thankfully, Y/N had been too caught up in her own orgasm to notice, and while Harry couldn’t deny that the heightened pleasure of her blood rolling down his throat as he slid his cock in and out of her hot cunt is something he thinks he’ll remember for eons, Harry knows that he was lucky to have gotten away with such a risky move.

Now that the young woman’s breath has completely evened out, Harry can evaluate the damage he’d done during his lapse in composure. In all honesty, he’s relieved to find that it isn’t as messy as he had feared. While he’s usually careful enough to make nearly surgical incisions into his partner’s flesh, he’d bitten Y/N with reckless abandon, too caught up in his pleasure to think about being neat. However, when he finds that the messiest thing about the bite is the few smears of blood still staining her skin, the anxiety— which Harry hadn’t even known was curled around his stomach like a vice— slips away. His venom had slowly begun to heal the bite mark already, but Harry knows that the only way it’ll be completely gone in the morning will be for Y/N to ingest his blood.

Allowing a human to ingest vampire blood was always a risk; after all, if they died with it in their systems, they would begin their second life a few mere hours after the first one ended. Despite that contingency, Harry had always rationalized the decision by telling himself it was better than the alternative, which was draining the human until they were dead. After all, a corpse doesn’t care about a few bite marks on their body. The police, on the other hand, do care about that, which was reason enough for Harry to take the time to heal anyone he drinks from. And, in all honesty, healing those he hurts is almost therapeutic for him. It’s a reminder that, despite his leftover humanity being barely present, he still has some nonetheless.

It’s those thoughts that are flowing through Harry’s mind when he carefully shifts under Y/N, drawing his arm free enough that he can carefully brush the human’s hair away from her supple skin. He leans down slowly, brushing his nose along the pulsing of Y/N’s neck before dragging his tongue along her warm skin. The taste of the few lingering streaks of blood incite a new burn in the back of Harry’s throat, a reminder of the sweet elixir that runs through the mortal girl’s veins. It takes all of Harry’s newly returned self-control to stop himself from creating a fresh bite next to the older one. Bringing a jewelled hand to his mouth, Harry lightly pricks his index finger on one of his pronounced fangs, hardly feeling the breaking of his icy skin in his mouth. He squeezes his finger tip with his thumb after pulling the digit from his teeth, watching with darkening eyes as a drop of midnight crimson blood beads on the end of his finger.

Y/N’s mouth is partially open already, hot breath falling from her unconscious lips with every movement of her chest, but Harry still grips her chin between his thumb and forefinger gently, nudging down her jaw until he can see her tongue. He pauses then, realizing how similar the sight is to how he had seen her an hour earlier. The memory of Y/N on her knees as she begged Harry to fuck her mouth sends a rush of electricity down his spine, but he shakes his head free of the thoughts before he can get carried away. He’d had his fun with the poor girl, he reminds himself, half wistful and half chastising. He can’t allow himself to take anything more from her. It’s his turn to give her something for all that she had gifted him.

With her mouth now fully open, Harry slowly slides his index finger along Y/N’s pink tongue, watching as his blood stains it red. He releases her chin from his grip as he does so, dragging his fingers from her jaw to her hair. Worrying that the mortal will begin to stir at the iron taste on her tongue, Harry figures that a soothing touch will be the best way to ensure that she’ll stay asleep. Once his grip strays from her chin, however, Y/N’s mouth slowly drifts closed, enveloping his ringed index finger in her cushiony lips. He then feels a gentle yet constant suction that tells him that Y/N is sucking his finger, just as she sucked something else earlier, and Harry nearly loses what little sanity he has left.

There’s a voice in the back of his head telling him that he should shift away from Y/N. If he had any more humanity, he’d peel away from her now, quickly dress himself in his abandoned clothes, and slip out her front door before she even notices. If Harry had an ounce of selflessness, he’d do it. But in this moment, all he can think about is how warm the young woman’s mouth is, how her smell is so sweet that Harry thinks he could get cavities just from inhaling her fragrance, and how fucking wonderful it feels to have her silky lips wrapped around his finger; it’s like even unconscious, her mind wants him as much as he wants her.

And so Harry stays in bed, listening to Y/N’s breathing, watching as the bite he gave her fades to a small bruise, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest tell him she’s deep in sleep in a way that Harry will never be again. The thought nearly saddens the vampire when he finally manages to pull his finger from Y/N’s mouth, smudging an impulsive kiss at the corner before he can stop himself. Harry remembers how lovely sleeping next to someone after sex felt when he was human. Of course, he’d always found himself in the same position Y/N would come to find herself in the next morning, with mysterious bruises scattered along her skin. But that caveat side, Harry had rather enjoyed sleep when he was human. And if he could sleep, then he would have something to distract himself from both the boredom of the quiet night and the gentle throbbing of his cock as Y/N shifts against him.

Harry’s eyes flit around Y/N’s room for the first time since she’d pulled him inside. The area is small, but decorated in a way that makes it seem cozy rather than claustrophobic. Her bed is nudged into the corner against the wall, covered in a mis-matched set of plain olive green sheets and a paisley-printed comforter that suggests their appropriate accompaniments are between washes. The bed is stout and close to the ground, hunkered down in a red oak wooden frame that is sanded and scratched in some places, making Harry come to the conclusion that it was probably thrifted. He likes that; he’s a fan of thrifting himself, which might seem contradictory considering the borrowed t-shirt Y/N is currently inhabiting is a sixty dollar Marc Jacobs piece. But at certain times, it’s the truth. Second hand shops hold a lot of neat stuff that humans tend to take for granted; they call it trash, whereas Harry deems it vintage treasure.

The walls are built of large bricks, covered in glossy creme paint on two panels and a cool grey on the opposite sides. The entrance to the room is a frosted glass sliding door with wallpaper strips lining its edges, the print of the detailing being messy doodles of different colored eyeballs. It’s cute in an indie sort of way. It screams California newborn.

The roof is a popcorn ceiling and Harry nearly gags in utter disgust, but manages to stifle it. It’s not like she can control that— not everyone can compel themselves a bachelor pad the way he had— and she’s lucky to have even found an affordable apartment this decent, especially in such a popular city. And she decorated the space pretty well, he’ll give her that much. Lots of antique knick-knacks, a few picture frames of family and friends littered around random surfaces, and a tapestry of what appears to be a hilled valley during a sunrise extended across the largest wall. The colors of the sky in the image are a mixture of dark purples, drunken blues, mellow oranges, and buttery yellows, and Harry has conflicting feelings about the article. Bluntly put, tapestries are stupid in his eyes. They’re trashy and hipster, which he’s grown to despise. But the photo Y/N’s drapery depicts is calming and pretty, so he’ll let it slide. At least it’s not one of those godforsaken dream-catchers.

He cranes his attention further along the other side of the room, noticing there’s an entire wall of bookshelves, stacked to the brim with a wide variety of genres. Harry’s eyes land on a few familiar titles, surprised by the contrast of topics lining the mantles, eyebrows raising in pleasant shock. He thinks that maybe the choices in novels can gain back the bit of respect he’d lost for her as a result of the tapestry and popcorn ceiling. He’ll think on it.

Y/N suddenly shifts against him again, and he’s reminded that he can’t get up to pick out a book. His gaze flickers to the plant-lined window sill and then the small nightstand, searching for anything within his reach that could occupy him for the next few hours. A halfway read novel discarded somewhere close, perhaps? A magazine? Some sort of video game system that he could play quietly until the sun rises?

It doesn’t take long for Harry’s search to come up empty. Apparently, Y/N’s bedroom has a place for everything, and everything is in its place. It’s no matter, Harry sighs to himself, wrapping his arms tighter around the girl sound asleep on his chest. He’ll just have to count Y/N’s breaths and heartbeats until dawn.

///

When Y/N wakes up the next morning, she’s unsurprised to find two things: a stiffness in her limbs, and an empty bed.

The former, she knows, is a sore reminder of the previous night’s activities, and how she’d allowed a complete stranger to use her however he wanted. Blood rushes to her cheeks as the night comes back to her in flickers: how Harry had kissed her, how she’d begged him to fuck her mouth, how he’d worked her over until she couldn’t take it anymore. If the aching in her thighs is proof enough, Y/N knows that it was some of the best sex she’s ever had, which may be why the latter observation of Harry already being gone sparks a new ache in her chest.

Still, Y/N didn’t expect anything different; although she’d asked the man to stay the night, he hadn’t promised her anything about the morning, and she can’t exactly blame him. After all, a one night stand is just that: one night. A morning is never promised.

After Y/N manages to climb out of bed with wobbly legs, she evaluates herself in the mirror hanging on the back of her closet door. Her hair, of course, is a rat’s nest, and although she attempts to tame it with her fingers and a scrunchie from her bag on the floor, Y/N knows that it’ll take a long, steaming shower and lots of conditioner to detangle the mess. A hot shower will probably be the only way to quell the throbbing of her muscles, she thinks, stepping closer to the mirror to examine her body. At the sight of bruises littered along her skin when she pulls up Harry’s blue t-shirt, Y/N’s mouth falls open, and her eyes widen as she examines the purple marks.

There’s a few scattered along her hips and thighs, small little indigo dots that could easily double as fingerprints. Y/N is certain that if Harry were here, his fingers would match the marks perfectly. And now that her hair is up, Y/N spots a mark along her neck. This bruise is much more pronounced than the others, and Y/N can almost make out the shape of individual teeth dotting the edge of the purple welt. Through her alcohol-muddled memories, Y/N can remember a moment where Harry bit down on her neck as their orgasms washed over each other. Remembering almost brings back that pleasure again, and the phantom feeling distracts her so much that she nearly misses the unmistakable sound of her kitchen cupboards opening.

By the time she pulls on a pair of cotton shorts to cover her bruised thighs and opens the sliding door of her bedroom, Harry’s already managed to figure out her coffee maker. Standing in front of the counter with his bare back to her (Y/N does her best not to focus on it-- he’s all creamy skin and defined muscles, and if she thinks about it too much, she’ll go insane), Harry whistles quietly under the sound of the percolating beverage, his tattooed arms reaching for a mug from the cupboard. Y/N watches as he picks out a blue mug she’d bought last year at Barnes & Noble, a small part of her secretly pleased that he chose her favourite out of all options.

“Good morning.” She says with a small smile, walking slowly (and a bit awkwardly) into the kitchen.

Harry’s whistling stops as he cranes his neck just enough to glance at her over his shoulder, his cheeks dimpling in greeting. “Morning, love. How’d you sleep?”

“Really good, actually, but that’s to be expected, given how exhausted I was.” Y/N opens the fridge to retrieve her milk carton, setting it down on the counter next to the two mugs Harry has picked out. “What about you?”

The corner of Harry’s lips twitch once, and if Y/N hadn't already been gazing at his lips in want, she wouldn’t have caught the movement. “Like a baby.”

The beeping of the coffee pot interrupts the small conversation, and Harry reaches for it automatically, filling the two mugs with the freshly steaming liquid. “Do you take cream and sugar?”

Despite Y/N opening the cupboard above her, Harry manages to snag the sugar bowl before she can. “Milk and sugar, yeah. And you don’t have to do that.” Y/N says, watching as Harry spoons sugar into a mug for her before grabbing the milk carton.

“I know I don’t have to, but I figured I should.” Harry gives a quick shrug of his shoulders as he lightens the drink with milk, leaving his own mug completely black. “Thought you might be a bit sore after last night.”

Harry can practically hear the blood rushing to Y/N’s cheeks, and the dull ache in the back of his jugular flares up as she reaches for her coffee mug, her smell washing over him as she moves closer. He grasps his own mug, lifting it to his lips in an attempt to quell the thirst in him with a less satisfying alternative.

“I, um,” Y/N stutters over her words for a moment, taking a sip of the hot coffee as an excuse not to talk while she collects herself. “I’m a little sore, yeah. But nothing too bad, and certainly not sore enough that I can’t make coffee. Or breakfast.”

Harry pauses with his mug half raised to his strawberry lips. “Breakfast?”

“I could make us breakfast, if you’d like.” Y/N swallows hard, her throat thick as she speaks carefully. “I make pretty good pancakes. Blueberry lemon. My grandma taught me how to make them.”

“They sound delicious.” Harry takes another gulp of coffee, the high temperature not seeming to bother him in the slightest, before setting the half full cup back down on the counter. “But I should get going.”

“Oh, uh, right.” Y/N speaks in a tight voice, her head moving in a quick nod as she sets her own coffee down. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll, um, go change, so you can have your shirt back--”

“Why bother to go somewhere? It’s not like it’s something I haven’t seen before.” A cheeky grin pastes itself onto Harry’s face, and Y/N fights back her embarrassment with a roll of her eyes.

“Shut up and give me a minute.”

By the time Y/N exits her room with the garment in hand and one of her favourite sweatshirts providing her with a bit of modesty, Harry is already waiting by the front door. She hands him the article of clothing, trying to not let her eyes follow his every move as he slips the shirt over his toned chest and down his lean stomach, pulling his pearls and cross necklace out from beneath the fabric.

“Thanks.” He says, fixing his hair after he finishes adjusting the tee into the waistband of his slacks, shrugging his cropped blue and creme plaid jacket over his broad shoulders. “Your apartment is really cute, by the way. I like the wallpaper decal on the sliding bedroom door. And the colours all work really nice together.

“Uh, thanks?” Y/N says slowly, and the confusion must be apparent on her face because Harry once again has a grin on his face, like he’s the only one in on a secret.

“That’s why you invited me back here last night, remember? To look at your apartment?” He prompts, leaning against the doorframe as he crosses his tattooed arms across his chest. “Unless that was all a ploy to get in my pants.”

“Maybe it was.” Y/N worries her bottom lip between her teeth to hold back the soft smile threatening its way onto her face. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Harry slinks his head to the side as he appraises the unsuspecting mortal in front of him. Her messy hair that he’d tangled his fingers into the night before is pulled away from her heated face, exposing the healed bite mark on her neck. Her lips are still a little swollen from how he tugged on them with his teeth, and Harry remembers how careful he had to force himself to be to make sure he didn’t break her skin. Y/N shifts her weight from one foot to the other, and the movement is just awkward enough that Harry can tell she’s sore from how he bent her over the couch and fucked her, and he knows that it shouldn’t send a shiver of pleasure down his spine, but it does.

“Yeah. It worked.” He murmurs, reaching for the doorknob as he makes his final goodbye. “It was lovely meeting you, Y/N. Really, it was. I had a wonderful time.”

“So did I.” Y/N smiles shyly at him, a hint of wistfulness in her voice. “It was fun.”

Harry nods, and then he can’t stop nodding, and then before he knows what he’s doing, his mouth seems to move of his own accord. “You know, since I’m not taking you up on your offer for breakfast, would you allow me to give a counter offer?”

Y/N’s eyes perk up with curiosity as she responds in a careful voice. “Uh, sure?”

“Can I see your phone real quick?” Harry asks, holding out a ring-clad hand expectantly.

Y/N doesn’t hesitate before retrieving her phone from her sweater pocket, unlocking it and placing it in Harry’s cool hand as requested. A small spark of hope ignites in her stomach as she watches him open her contacts.

“Here.” Harry says after a moment, handing her back the phone with a smile of satisfaction. “I put a disco ball next to my name. Thought it fit, since we met at a club and all.”

“It does fit.” Y/N agrees as she looks down at the new contact in her phone. “And what exactly am I supposed to do with this?”

“Call it. Text it. Use it to let me know when you want more interior decorating advice.” Harry says snidely, watching with faint amusement as a sheepish look that washes across Y/N’s face. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“Of course.” Y/N repeats back to him, her voice matching his teasing tone. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry flashes her one more grin, his teeth seemingly glinting in the morning sunlight that shines through the window. “Yeah. You will.”

And as the vampire trots down the stairs of the human’s apartment complex, regaining the lighthearted whistling he’d been indulging earlier, he finds himself truly hoping that she’ll put his number to good use.

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retrievablememories · 4 years

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stay with me | jungkook

title: stay with me pairing: jungkook x reader genre: fluff, implied smut request: “can you write a fluff with a hint of smut drabble for Jungkook of BTS attempting to keep his morning person significant other in bed on a off day for them both?” word count: 839 warnings: a bit suggestive, but nothing too serious

You wake up at the same time you always do every morning—“early as hell o’clock,” Jungkook calls it, though it’s really only 8:30 a.m. You’ve gotten so used to it over the years that you don’t even need an alarm clock to wake up on time anymore, which is probably a good thing. At least for your boyfriend, anyway. He hates being woken up with the alarm blaring in his eardrums, though you both know that it’s pretty much the only surefire way to get him up in the morning—just short of wrestling him out of bed.

You quietly get out of bed and go to the bathroom to take a shower, humming to yourself as the water warms up. You hear Jungkook move around in the bedroom through the open crack of the door, but he still doesn’t attempt to get up.

Before you can step into the shower, you hear him speak. “Y/N…” He calls for you softly, and you slightly peek out of the bathroom doorway to see what’s the matter.

“What is it, Kookie?”

“What are you doing? Come back to bed,” he mumbles, his eyes closed against the sliver of light shining out of the bathroom.

“I’m only taking a shower,” you reply, giggling at the sight of his adorable messy hair and bare face.

He makes a sound that you think is an affirmative that he heard your words, and he settles back down, but not before saying, “Okay, but hurry up and come back here when you finish…”

Jungkook is already fast asleep seconds after his head hits the pillow, and you shake your head, smiling to yourself.

When you get out of the shower, you walk into the room to find him still sleeping. By now it’s 9 a.m., which is still way too early for him, but you feel thoroughly refreshed and ready to start the day. You walk over to the bed and prod at his shoulder until he groans and tries to swat your hand away; then, as if just now realizing it’s you, he grasps your wrist.

“Get back in bed,” he says. “Please?”

“Jungkook, it’s 9 a.m. Won’t you have some coffee with me? I’ll make it just how you like it. Maybe it’ll help you wake up.”

“I don’t want coffee, I want you.” Jungkook pulls you closer by the wrist, so much so that your body leans over the bed and you have to put one knee on the mattress to keep from falling over. You have to use your free hand to keep your towel from sliding off, and now you have the thought that maybe you should’ve gotten dressed before attempting to wake this man up.

“You can have me, but you gotta get up first...please? I want to start the day.” You would use your best pleading expression on him like you usually do, but he’s still blinking the sleep from his eyes and it probably wouldn’t be as effective right now.

“Who says you can’t start the day in bed? Or...not start it at all?” Jungkook lets go of your wrist now, but only so he can draw his tattooed fingers up the length of your arm, making your skin tingle.

“Do you really want to just stay here?” You groan, though you are smiling.

“Yes. We most definitely can,” Jungkook replies. “There’s nothing else to do today...nothing else important, at least. It’s literally one of the only free days we have. It’s okay to enjoy it.” Jungkook’s hand leaves your arm and goes to your side, tickling you through the soft material of the towel, and you go crumpling to the mattress. With you fully back on the bed now, he’s able to pin you against his body and continue tickling you until you’re howling with laughter.

Jungkook tucks his head into your neck, laughing and smiling against your skin, your body heat mingling together. His hands eventually still on your body, though not completely; his fingers pause at the section of your towel that has unraveled from all your moving around, and he walks his fingers down from your sternum towards your abdomen.

“Now what are you doing?” you ask, though you can very well tell what his intentions are, from his grin spreading against your cheek to the way his body finally awakens with a familiar amorous emotion.

“Finding a reason for us to stay in bed all day.” And before he’s even finished the sentence, you’re gasping at the first touch of his hand on you.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts drabbles #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #jungkook smut #bts smut

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years

Note

Awesome okay so like personally, I hc that c!Punz and c!Sapnap are actually brothers so like consider,,,,brotherly rivalry where they get jealous of each other like,,,,,

That scene were Karl was trapped in the corner by Punz and Sap was getting jealous so he started throwing hands???? Pls let me have that with reader where they and Sap have a running gag that everyone's in on where they act like a couple but Punz takes the chance to mess with his little brother and starts hitting on the reader; they're basically melting and Sap's warning him like "Punz leave them alone they're MINE" and the reader sticks their tongue out and are like "Yeah, I'm his!!!" And Punz steps towards them and basically corners them with a stupidly handsome smirk and is like "Yeah??? Then why are you so flustered by me just being this close?"

Hhhhh I'm such a simp for them pls feel free to add on

Anon… Anon… Your brain is so freaking big. Thank you so much for blessing me with this. (You can find a part two here lol)

Yes, I completely agree that they are brothers. Before my sister was super into Mcyts with me I would describe them too her and I told her that Punz and Sapnap are the same person, just different fonts and I stand by that 100% and this headcanon just further backs that in my mind.

So yes, you and Sapnap are like the best friends ever that are so comfortable with each other. So you two do everything together. Like it is so rare that you see one of you without the other. You two are so close and so touchy with each other that when new people join the server they assume your dating. The new person would then ask someone else about it and they would get laughed at and then it would be explained to them and they would be in on the running joke. Everyone always jokes around with you two about “When are you guys going to admit that you love each other and just make out already?” and you two look at the person in confusion and look at each other, “You mean we haven’t done that already? Damn Y/N why didn’t you tell me?” “I didn’t know that either bb, come here and let me kiss you!” And you two do that thing where you lean in really close to each other and then start laughing right before your lips touch and pull away to giggle. The person in front of you rolls their eyes and laughs too.

The person that teases you the most about it though is Sapnap’s older brother, Punz. Punz is probably the only person that really whole heartily believes you two when you say you’re not in love with each other, mostly because he can read his brother like a book, but that doesn’t stop him from teasing the hell out of you two. Like he’ll walk into the room and see you two cuddled up on the couch and he rolls his eyes and is like, “are you sure you’re not in love with each other?” and you giggle but ignore him and Sapnap rolls his eyes and flips him off. Punz walks over to the couch and ruffles his brother’s hair before ruffling yours as well and is like, “well okay. But I mean damn, my baby brother literally has the person he’s in love with on his lap and he still can’t get any.” And then you’re thrown off of Sapnap’s lap and now they’re chasing each other around the house. Sapnap gets a hold of him and the two wrestle on the ground for a while before Punz is like “Fine! I give up, you’re together or whatever” and then Sapnap smacks him once more before prancing over to you and cuddling into you once more.

One day you would be over at Sapnap’s house in the kitchen making yourself a snack waiting for Sapnap to wake up when suddenly there’s a pressure against the back and you’re being pinned to the counter. You know it’s not Sapnap because you would recognize his touch anywhere. There is only one other person that has a key to his house. “Punz?” You question, frozen in place. And his deep chuckle rumbles through your body, because he’s against you, and he’s like, “How’d you know baby” and you flush at the words because you know that cliche of ‘I’m in love with my best friend’s brother’? Well it kind of sort of applies to you. I mean you wouldn’t say that you’re in love with him, but your heart skips a beat every time he walks in the room. But he doesn’t need to know that. But you shake the thoughts out of your head and are like “I knew it wasn’t Sapnap and you’re the only person that is always welcome in his house without knocking” you answer as steady as you can. Punz chuckles again, “Fair enough” he claims, but still not moving. You wait for a moment before “Punz… What are you doing?” You ask, your voice shaking ever so slightly. “What? Are you uncomfortable?” he questions. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s smirking. “Did I say that? No, I just asked what you were doing.” Another chuckle, “Oh. Well I was going to make myself a snack,” and suddenly there are hands on your waist and you’re being turned around to face him, “Imagine my surprise when I find one already out.” He casually reaches out and places his hands on the counter behind you. You two are standing so close that you can feel his breath on your face. You try to will down the heat in your cheeks but fail, causing Punz to smirk even harder. “I’m not-- you can’t--- why would you--” You stutter out, trying desperately to get out a full sentence but you just can’t. “Can’t what? Call you baby? Call you a snack? Why not? It’s completely true,” he mutters, his eyes raking up and down your body causing you to literally melt.

Footsteps pounding down the hallway snap you back to reality and suddenly Sapnap appears, saving your sanity, “Punz! What are you doing?” He questions, moving further into the kitchen, stopping right beside the two of you, his arms crossing over his chest. Punz’s eyes barely leave you as he glances at his brother, “Nothing, just flirting with Y/N here.” Sapnap scoffs angrily and responds with a “You can’t do that! They’re mine, remember?” and you, completely back to reality are like “Yeah, I’m his!” You claim, looking over to Sapnap, both relieved and little disappointed. And Punz simply leans forward just a little more, pressing you even further into the counter behind you and drops his head to your ear and murmurs “Yeah? Then why are so so fluster by me doing this?” and once again you’re a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing no noise coming out and your face full of heat once more. Sapnap, ever the observant best friend, sees this, huffs, gets red in the face, and tackle his brother off of you… Like deadass. Full on body tackles him off of you screaming “Get off of them,” and once again the two brothers are on the floor wrestling each other. You take this time to just take some deep breaths to collect yourself before you turn around, collect your snack and step over the two boys physically fighting on the ground. Once your clear you take a look at the boys as they fight and you decide to take a risky move, “Winner gets to cuddle me on the couch.” The boys’ heads snap to you for a moment, soaking in the words, before going back to the fight, this time both fighting to actually win.

#ray responds #ray drabbles #drabble #mcyt #mcyt imagine #sapnap drabble #punz drabble #sapnap imagine #punz imagine #sapnap #punz #dreamsmp #dream smp #thank you for allowing me this idea #anon #ily #asks #💫 anon

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lordabovehelpme · 4 years

Text

Family Day- Din Djarin x Reader

This wonderful moodboard is brought to readers like you by @jedi-jesi (go give her some love. She’s a literal mastermind)

A/n: Cara is a flirt and I will except no other answer.

This is the next part to my Days filled with Love series! You can find the first part here :)

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“Mommy! Look I’m flying!” Reeza screams out in delight as Paz lifts her around in the air.

“Very nice, sweetheart.” Smiling, you go back to stirring the soup you have planned for dinner.

“Hey magic hands!” Greef, loudly announces his arrival, instantly giong to pick up your eldest child.

Cara follows him with her signature smirk, “Hey mama.” Din’s hands tighten on your hips, but you shoo him away.

Leaving the soup and your husband's hands, you tickle Grogu’s nose in Greefs arms. “I’m so glad you two were able to make it!”

“And risk never experiencing your cooking again?” She scoffs but allows you to pull her into a large hug, her own arms eventually wrapping around your shoulders.

“You’re always welcome.” You shimmy from her arms with a wide smile, but you can feel the heavy stare of your husband on where you two were conjoined.

“Auntie Cara!” Myles rushes in from outside and tackles her.

“Hey little man!” She lifts him up into her arms and rubs his helmet. “Now you match shiny over there.” You just know under his helmet he has the biggest smile.

Paz walks over with Reeza still climbing from his limbs. “Do you need help with anything?”

Giving him a grateful beam, “No, I think I’m alright.” Isabet cries from her seat at the table. “Actually can you-”

“I’ve got it.” Before you can even finish your sentence, Paz has already taken Isabet into his arms. “Come on Di’kut, get your son, we’ll teach them how to wrestle like the good old days.” Walking out the door, Myles jumps from his aunts arms, and grabs her hand, leading her after his uncle. Greef, with Grogu in his arms, follows right after them.

Din’s hands find your hips once again and he slowly raises his helmet. Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he takes Tobbi from where he was strapped to your back. “We’ll be outside.”

“Mm, okay have fun. Don’t let Paz bruise them up too bad.” However, there is no true worry in your voice. You know for a fact that on any given day Paz would protect your children and your family as if they were his own.

***

You watch with a smile on your face as Paz lets all five of your children climb all over him outside. He really does love them as if they were his own.

“Mesh’la, why don’t you come outside?” Two hands grab your hips and turn you around.

“Din! You scared me!” Lifting his helmet to his forehead, you peer up into his brown eyes. “I’m almost done with dinner, then I’ll come out.”

He leans forward and attaches to your neck, his hands lift you up and set you on the counter. Walking forward, he lodges himself between your thighs. “You look so pretty in this dress.” One of his hands trails up from your knee, pulling the fabric of your yellow sundress to your hips.

Grasping his hair you giggle as his scruff tickles your collarbone. “Thank you. But you better not be planning anything right now mister.”

“Why? Everyone's outside, no one will know.”

“I can’t believe you’re even thinking of that while we have guests!” You pull him from your neck, but you can’t hide the soft smile on your face. He just whines, bottom lip pushed out in a pout that you can’t help but kiss.

“You two better not be making anymore kids in there!”

A squeak falls from your lips as Cara sticks her head in the kitchen. Heart rising to your cheeks as you push your dress back down to your ankles. Din only shoves his helmet back on his head and offers a mumbled, “I’m trying.”

She smirks at the two of you, leaning on the doorframe and crossing her arms. “Just wanted another drink of water. But it seems like a tall glass of it was waiting for me on the counter. Weren’t you little Mama?”

As you walk over to the fridge, you elbow your husband as he growls. Grabbing the ice cold water, you pour a glass for Cara and hand it to her. “Here you go.” Flashing her a smile, you take the fresh bread from the oven. “Could you do me a favor and tell everyone that dinner is ready?”

“Sure thing mama.” Downing her glass in one big chug, she sets the glass in the sink and walks back out the door.

“I don’t like that she calls you that.” Once again, his greedy hands pull at your flesh.

“She just does it because she knows it gets under your skin. It’s just how she teases you.” Pressing your forehead against his helmet, press a kiss to where his mouth would be. “Now can you go use these big muscles and grab three extra chairs?” Giving his biceps a firm squeeze to further prove your point. “If you’re good, I’ll give you a nice gift tonight, okay?”

He growls in approval and walks away, but not without delivering a firm smack to your bottom.

***

As the sun sets and fireflies start to rise from their slumber, laughter can be heard from the Djarin residence.

“And then-” Paz’s booming laughter fills the living room from where he sits on the floor, “then he just fell over! Like one second he was there and the next he was gone!”

“You never told me you fell off a blurrg.” Your own words falling soft as they try to sound through your giggles. The hand your husband holds is squeezed and you just know under that helmet his cheeks are rosy.

“He’s making it sound worse than it was.” His visor tilts down to look at Isabet who has fallen asleep in his arms, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Paz scoffs and tickles Reeza’s stomach, giggles erupting from where her limbs thrash around. “Your dad’s an idiot.”

It’s like a flip was switched in her mind. She wrangles herself from his hold and stands protectively in front of her father. “Daddy’s not an idiot! He’s the smartest person alive!” Her little scowl mirrors perfectly the one her father often throws you.

Greef chuckles and him and Cara share a glance.

Sounding prouder than he should be, Din states, “Yeah, hear that, smartest person alive.”

Paz crosses his arms, “Yeah because the “smartest” person would obviously cheat off of me on every single written test we had.”

“That was only one time! I wasn’t able to go to class because you broke my arm! It was only fair.”

“WHAT!” Snapping your head to the left, you peer at Din, needing explanation.

“You haven’t told her yet?” Paz, for once, actually sounds shocked.

“It’s embarrassing.”

“Oh come on shiny, now we all want to know. You’ve got mama over here on the edge of her seat.”

Myles looks up at you from where he sits between your legs on the floor. Studying your facial features as you eagerly nod at your husband.

“If he won’t say anything, I’ll tell it. So it was when we were about sixteen and seventeen.” Reeza, already enveloped into the story, places herself back into his lap. “We were friends with this one girl and I-”

“You had the biggest crush on her.” Din interjects.

“We were friends! Anyway, her birthday was coming up and WE wanted to get her something. But WE wanted it to be special, so WE decided to poke in her room while she was doing her training. You know, learn more about her.”

“So you were looking for her diary?” Cara asks.

“Uncle Paz isn’t that mean?”

Looking down at Reeza he says, “Never do anything that your father and I did when we were young. And no, not her diary. Something that told us more about her.”

“So a diary.”

Paz’s helmet tilts towards her and you know he's glaring. “Anyway, the major problem was, her room was on the second floor of the covert, so in order to get up there we had to climb through her window.”

“SO he elected me to stand on his shoulders and climb in.” Din huffs.

“You offered!”

“Yeah because I didn’t want to lift your fat-”

“DIN!” Slapping your hands over Myles ears, you yell over him.

“You’re just jealous that I’m taller and stronger than you. Anyway, we were about to make it in, but low and behold, she opened the door and it spooked Din.”

“No, you were scared because you liked her, so you lost your footing. So Paz fell over and I fell on top of him. I tried to catch myself, but I rammed my forearm right into Paz’s butt and we eventually found out I broke it.”

“Butt of steel baby.” Everyone besides Din breaks out in laughter at his comment.

“Not something you should be proud of.” Din huffs out beside you.

“Wait so how did this mystery chick respond?” Greef asks.

“Let’s just say we weren’t friends anymore.” Paz shrugs his shoulders. “Missed out.”

***

All five of the kids have been put down, it already being way past their bedtime.

“Come sit with me mama.” Cara pats her thighs and before you can respond Din pulls you into his lap.

“Tough luck.” Greef mocks her before sighing, “Anyway, we best be getting back. I’m dreading what’s going to be left of the city.” Cara rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

Standing up from your husband's lap, you rush into the kitchen. “Let me grab you some leftovers! Hang tight for one minute.” Throwing some soup, bread, and fruit into tupperwares, you hand them to Greef and a few to Cara.

“Thanks mama.”

Smiling, you pull her into one last hug, “Of course.” Letting her go and giving another hug to Greef, he gives you a firm pat to your back. “It was so good to see you guys.”

He smiles before leaning down and whispering in your ear, “You know, you really make him happy.” Shocked, you peer into his eyes searching for the usual jokes he cracks. He only nods and offers your husband a firm handshake. “Until later, Mando.” The two of them walk out and back to their ship.

“Guess that’s my cue.”

Turning to Paz you pout, “Oh no, you’re totally welcome to stay. We have the guest room for a reason.” Little do you know that behind you Din is glaring and signaling for him to leave.

“Ehhhh, umm, I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, I have, umm, some stuff to do tomorrow.”

Giving him a big hug, you laugh as he picks you up. “Thank you for coming, it means the world to the kids.”

He sets you down and under his helmet he smiles, “You guys are my family, I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

Smiling, you watch as the two men hug each other as if they are never going to let go. It’s the truest form of a bro hug. They both have their arms at an angle and firm pats are delivered to each other's backs. Small whispers you can’t pick up are spoken between the two.

“Thanks for coming man.”

“For sure. Alright, I’m heading out. See you guys around.”

Waving at him from the porch, Din walks up behind you and grabs your hips.

Sighing, you relax into his embrace. His fingertips massage circles into your hips and his head rests on your shoulder.

“What is it?”

“I- uh, I think you promised me a gift earlier.” He pulls you back against his hips and you gasp at the way he’s poking your back.

“Already?”

“I can’t help it!”

Giggling you let him pull you inside. “Alright sit down and watch your show.”

“A show? Now I’m really excited!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next Part: A Day Spent Alone

Hehehe I had too much fun writing this one. I hope you guys liked it!

As always, feedback is mega appreciated.

Love you all, Lordy :)

(Cara calling you mama is my new favorite thing)

Masterlist

Taglist: @ficthots @along-the-lines-of-space @jedi-jesi

If you want to be added/removed from my taglist, just give me a holler! :)

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #paz viszla #days filled with love

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catzula · 4 years

Text

always there to help

Synopsis: You suck at math, and who could be better suited for the job to help you, other than your brother's best friend, the born genius, Bakugou?

Genre: fluff

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x (Kirishima's sister)Reader

Warnings: Swearing, maybe some bad writing

A/N: So, I'm back! I'm sorry I haven't been writing anything lately, I just didn’t like anything I wrote, so, sorry about that. This one might seem a little all over the place too lol, but it’s because I inteded it to be a small drabble. but accidentally made it a 5.1k fic. So, it might not be one f my better works, but I had a lot of fun writing it!

BY THE WAY, 100 followers guys! Thank you so much for that!

You were working on your homework when you heard the doorbell. You sighed deeply, standing up and going to the door, not expecting to see your brother and his friend group to be standing on the other side.

One specific friend caught your eye, his spiky, ash blonde hair hard to miss. You could feel your heartbeat rising almost instantly, cheeks now a bit warmer than before. You wished you had worn something else, anything but pajama shorts and an oversize shirt, maybe combed your hair and wore perfume or something, but how could you know your brother was going to bring his friends home?

Okay, maybe you should have known since they were over almost every day.

But since there was nothing you could do now to change the situation, you just smiled, inviting them in -you noticed how Bakugou hadn't even glanced your way once, and though this wasn't different then always, it proceed to hurt and disappoint you every time. It's not like you were expecting for him to have feelings for you or something, but at least noticing you were there would be nice for a change.

Your brother was the last to enter, hugging you so tightly that you couldn't breathe for a few seconds, squirming between his arms. "Eiji lemme go!" You screamed, though your voice muffled by his tight hold.

"Sorry, just missed you." He told you, letting you free. A cheeky, innocent grin was on his face, the one he knew that made you soft. You answered by a "Hmph," turning to his friends, who were already in the living room, doing their things. Mina was the first to notice you when you entered the room, the cutest smile on her face. "Oh, hey Y/N!" She caught you by the wrist, pulling you to the couch to sit with her. Of course, Bakugou was right next to you.

Feeling self-conscious -when was the last time you had a shower? Yesterday? You could only pray you smelled nice- you scooted a bit more to Mina, putting some distance between Bakugou and you, though it pained you to do so since he smelled like caramel. Honestly, why did he smell this good? It only caused your thoughts to be fuzzier, and for you to be even more excited around him.

Though he seemed to have noticed your shift towards Mina since he sent a small glance your way, a 'tch' sound coming out of his lips, heating your cheeks.

"Hi, Mina-san." You mumbled, trying to forget the boy -your big brother's best friend- sitting next to you. "Oh, y/n-chan, I told you many times, you can just call me Mina! We only have a year between us anyway." You nodded, though still feeling a bit uneasy. “Sure.”

"I- I should go now, I have to finish my math homework." You told them with an apologetic smile, Mina and Kaminari pouting almost immediately. "Oh, come on, sit with us for a bit," Denki protested, his eyes wandering on your bare legs for a second, earning a deadly glare from your brother and a nudge from Sero.

"What homework?" Your brother asked you, coming closer to you to block Denki's view. "Oh, you know, the one I was doing this morning." You shrugged, you've been working on the same sheet of paper practically the whole day, but you just didn't know the subject even a little bit, staring at the paper without knowing nothing didn't help much.

"Wait, you still didn't finish that? I thought I helped you yesterday." He pouted. Yes, he did try to help you, but you were sure he also had no idea how to do it, and he had just repeated the question to you again and again, until you had said, "Ah, I understand it now! Thank you, brother," without being able to do anything. You knew he meant good, but it still didn't change the fact that your brother was as clueless as you were.

"I-" You had started to say something before a deeper voice intruded yours. "Oi, shitty-hair, you know you suck at math, how do you think you could even help her?"

Your eyes shifted to Bakugou -you couldn't help but giggle at the nickname he had for your brother, oh, you had to remember that one- he had an annoyed look in his ruby eyes, his eyes not leaving your brother once. "Well, I-" Eiji had started to talk, his eyes widening slightly after, understanding what Bakugou meant. "Oh, you should have told me!"

You shrugged. "Well, you just looked so happy finally being able to help me with something, I didn't want to make you feel bad."

Oh no, did that come out wrong? You were about to apologize when your brother pulled you in a hug once again. "Oh my god- lemme go!"

***

"So -uhh- if you do it this way, you can, maybe?.. No, okay, I got it, so if you add this to... Nope, that's wrong- umm, oh, how about-"

Mina bit the back of the pencil you had given her, fully concentrated on the papers in front of her. "Oh move over, I can help her!" Denki told her as he pushed Mina aside.

"You?" She told him in disbelief, "Don't make me laugh, you're even worse than I am!"

"No, I'm not!" The blonde boy answered, pulling the sheet of paper. "Yes, you are," Sero also joined the fight, pushing himself between the two. "Oh, you shut up, you're even worse than him!" Mina pushed Sero with all her might, panting.

"Umm, what is happening?" You asked your red-headed brother, watching them with a smile and clearly enjoying the show. "Oh, don't worry, this happens all the time." He answered, patting you on the back, giggling when Mina pulled Denki's hair, making the poor boy scream.

Oh, that makes it all better then.

"Oi, dumbasses, shut the fuck up before I do it." You jumped in surprise when you heard Bakugou screaming right behind you, and surprisingly, three of the grown-ass people that were just wrestling on the floor froze.

"Sorry, Baku." Mina was the first to stand up, fixing her disheveled clothes and running a finger through her soft-looking hair. Sero and Kaminari struggled for a second or two more, but one look from Bakugou and they were up on their feet too.

"Well, thanks I guess." You told the people who literally just fought each other to help you, though instead of them, it was Bakugou who answered you. "Whatever, you shouldn't be asking these idiots anyway."

You weren't sure what to say since the gratitude wasn't intended for him, but you smiled awkwardly. "Guess I'll have to ask someone tomorrow."

"Oh, Baku, can't you help her? You always help us and you're the smartest." Eiji perked his head with the idea that suddenly came to his mind.

"Damn right I am!" Bakugou answered without missing a beat, though he realized his mistake almost instantly. "Oh, that's great, then, you can help her." Mina cheered, clapping her hands with a wicked grin on her face, eyeing both you and the now furious looking boy. Bakugou would have said no immediately, but everyone in the room -even you- knew his pride wouldn't let him.

"For fucks sake," he muttered, his hand massaging his temples. "Give me that stupid fucking paper."

***

"Oh, okay, that makes much more sense!" You told him, even though you still had no idea how he did it, but you tried your best to hide the confusion in your face, not wanting to seem dumb in front of him. But it took one look and his burrows furrowed, lips curling into a snarl.

"If you're just acting like you understood I'll fucking-" A fake cough came from your brother's way, making Bakugou growl. "I'll explain it to you again and again until you understand it." He finished his sentence, making both you and Eiji grin.

"So what didn't you understand?"

Good question.

"I- uh... anything?" You could feel your face heating as you answered, causing him to grimace. "Oh my fucking God." He muttered, pinching his nose bridge with annoyance.

"LOOK-" Oh, he was pissed. "THE QUESTION IS TELLING YOU TO DO THIS, SO YOU JUST FUCKING ADD THIS TO THAT, AND-" His spiky hair looked like it was ruffling up when he got angry, like an angry bird, the thought making you giggle. As he heard your giggle he stopped screaming, and seeing him so quiet was somehow scarier than him shouting.

"What the fuck is so funny?" He asked gruffly, though his crimson eyes weren't as angry as they were before. "You know it doesn't help when you just scream everything at me, right?" You giggled again because he looked really confused.

"Okay, look." He sighed, "see this? This actually just means you should do this." His pencil moved on the paper, his writing surprisingly neat and pretty- especially for a boy as impatient and angry like him. "Oi, you listening?" He pointed the pencil to you when he noticed you weren't looking at the paper, but at him.

"Oh- yeah, I'm listening." You answered, looking at what he recently wrote and trying to understand what he probably said. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't question it further. "Good."

"As I just said," he stated -making you grin since he probably noticed you weren't, in fact, listening to him, "you should do it like this and that's the answer."

You couldn't understand why, but suddenly what he was talking about seemed to make so much sense. "Oh my god." Your eyes widened, looking at the sheet of paper, you pulled the pencil he was holding without thinking much on it, quickly writing down what was on your mind before you forgot.

After you finished writing, you turned your gaze to the boy that was sitting right next to you, though he concealed the amazed look he had sent you almost immediately. "Is that... right?" You asked him, feeling anxious, if it was wrong, you probably would look like an idiot.

"Yeah," he muttered, quickly glancing your way and noticing the smile on your face. "Fucking finally." He added, trying to get you to stop from smiling since he couldn't stop thinking about how pretty it was, though to his surprise you only smiled brighter. He could feel his heartbeat picking up, not sure why. Were you always this pretty? Smiled so softly, that made him feel all warm? Looked at him like this, like he was the most amazing person you've had seen?

For him, you have always been the sister of his best friend. He hadn't the slightest interest on you, though he could feel that was changing, the thought terrifying him. No, you were only and only Kirishima's sister, no one else.

***

"Hey, Bakugou-Kun." Bakugou was taking his jacket off as he entered the house, his caramel scent making you dizzy.

"Hey, idiot." He answered without thinking, the rude nickname slipping from his lips, he pressed them together instantly as if he could un-say it. He looked at you with slightly widened eyes, expecting you to be sad, or get mad at him, though he could have never thought you would giggle instead.

"Yeah," you told him smiling, "guess I deserve that."

"No." A sudden answer came his way, causing you to be the one shocked this time. "I- I didn't mean it that way..." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking very uncomfortable. "I just-"

"It's okay!" You told him, finally ending his misery. "I know you didn't say it to be mean."

Now, that was a first.

"Yeah, whatever." He muttered, entering the room, though regretting it immediately, was that rude? Maybe he shouldn't have stormed out? Did you think he was rude? Mean? An asshole?

He had no idea you were only happy because, for the first time, he had stopped to talk with you instead of ignoring you altogether.

You entered the room, noticing the rest was there too, and you wondered when they even entered the house. "Hey, Y/N!" Denki beamed, though noticing the look Eiji sent him, he quickly corrected himself. "-chan. Y/N-chan."

"Hey, Kaminari-Kun." You answered, making him pout. "Oh come on, you can just call me Denki!" A small glance was sent your brothers way, "Denki-Kun. You can call me Denki-Kun." He corrected, smiling widely.

"Oh, okay." You told him. "Would you like something to drink, Denki-Kun?" You asked, making him grin wickedly. "She's just too cute!" He whisper-yelled, nudging Sero. "Anyone? I can make tea."

"Oh, just sit with us instead!" Mina told you and you did as she said, knowing she would force you anyway. Once again, you were stuck between Bakugou and Mina, though this time you were prepared and had worn perfume. She looked at you excitedly, like she wanted to say something, but before she sent an angry look to Bakugou.

"Hey, Baku, can you go sit with Denki or something? We're gonna talk and you're preventing us."

"Haah?" Bakugou yelled. "I was the first one sitting here! And I'm not fucking preventing you, I'm just fucking sitting here, it's not like I wanna hear the stupid shit you'll talk about."

Oh, but he, did. He was dying to hear what you would talk about.

"It's not stupid shit, its girl talk!" She defended, grinning when Bakugou stood up. "W-what do you want to talk about, Mina?" It took a lot of willpower for you not to say Mina-san. "A little bird told me you have a slight liking to a certain angry boy." She finally told you, waiting at first for a bit of suspense.

"W-what, who?" You blurted, immediately noticing the mistake you did. "I mean, that's not- that's not true!"

"Oh come on, don't try to hide it!" She giggled, nudging you. "I know you have a crush on bskdhdhdh!" You slapped your hand on her mouth just in time, a sigh of relief coming out your mouth when you stopped her from saying the name. Though, you couldn't stop her from screaming about you having a crush.

"You what?!" Eiji screamed, standing up.

"Ooh, our little Y/N-chan has grown so fast," Denki told as he wiped the nonexistent tears off his eyes.

"So, who's the lucky guy?" Sero asked, grinning.

"Oops, I may have made a mistake," Mina said, giggling.

The only one that hadn't said one word was Bakugou, though that was somehow even more uncomfortable. His gaze lingering over you, you felt like you were going to die of embarrassment (and why did he have to wear that black t-shirt? It only made you even more flustered, and you just couldn't help but think about how nice he looked)

"It's nothing." You smiled awkwardly, face heating up. You glanced away, looking at anyone but him. "It's a misunderstanding." A fake giggle and all should be good, right?

Well, apparently not.

"No, don't you try to laugh your way out of this. What is this crush?" He looked so angry, it was one of those rare moments that he looked plain out scary.

"It's an innocent crush, Eiji! Nothing to worry about, okay? Now sit down, I need to do my homework anyway." Eyes narrowing, his gaze stayed on you a little more, though he dropped the subject soon after.

"If anything happens, you'll tell me everything." He told Mina, though it sounded more like a threat.

"It's not my place to do so." She answered, grinning wickedly.

***

You peeped your head from the door, trying to take a look of inside. What were they doing?

You've been doing your homework the past hour or two -it was only 10 minutes, but it felt like an eternity- and you came downstairs to seek help.

"Hi, guys." You finally entered, only to find them all snuggled on the couch, watching the greatest show ever been made, Avatar the Last Airbender.

Eiji knew the consequences of such actions, desperately trying to close the TV, but he was late, you could recognize Uncle Iroh's voice from a mile away.

"How dare you!" You gasped, now feeling all eyes on you.

"Wait, what's going on?" Sero looked as confused as the rest of his friends.

"Eiji, how could you do this to me?" You ignored Sero altogether, eyes fixed on your red-headed brother.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, sis, it's just we had nothing to do and-"

"I can't even see you right now." You told him, turning your back to exit the room, leaving three very confused people after you.

"No, Y/N, wait!"

***

And that's how you found yourself to be snuggled between Bakugou and Denki.

It was really comfortable, you had to admit, but also very maddening. You couldn't even watch the show anymore, your senses filled with the boy sitting right next to you, his body touching yours ever so slightly, his hair tickling your face every time you moved to get a bit more comfortable.

"So you're telling me," Bakugou suddenly spoke up, though your eyes didn't leave the screen, you could feel his ruby eyes on you. "That you have a crush on this guy?"

"She does." Your brother mumbled from the other side of the room. "She even-"

"Shut up, or you won't be able to speak ever again." Everyone in the room suddenly froze, no one able to understand how the hell you just turned in to the most threatening person they ever saw.

"Well, damn, okay." Sero laughed, sending a small glance your way. "I don't know, man," Denki muttered. "Sokka is much better than Zuko. He is a nice dude, everyone likes him, has solid jokes, and is pretty smart. He's kinda like me, actually."

"Yeah, he is like you!" Mina suddenly cheered. "Except for the being-liked-by-everyone, having nice jokes and being smart parts, of course."

"Yeah, that's what I'm telling yo- hey!" He exclaimed, making everyone laugh. "If there's anyone that resembles any of these characters, it's Bakugou," Eiji muttered thoughtfully.

"What?" He snarled. Eiji shrugged. “You’re pretty similar to Zuko.”

"Wait, that's very on point!" You told him, causing Bakugou's brows to furrow. "Just think about it, you're very unreasonably angry all the time, keep picking useless fights with everyone, and are very rude!" Mina cheered.

Bakugou would have punched every one of you for even implying something like this, though now the only thing he could think about was if you thought this way too.

"I- I didn't mean it that way, though." You told them. "He always tries to look so tough from the outside, but he's actually sweet. He tries to act like he doesn't like the gaang or his friends, but in reality, he really likes them. Don't you guys think so too?"

"Now that you put it that way..." Mina muttered, the topic closing and everyone focusing their gazes on the screen once again, though, even though no one realized, a small smile was on Bakugou's lips.

***

After the Avatar marathon, you stood up, about to go upstairs to continue the dreadful math homework when an idea fell upon you. You turned your gaze to the boy, who was sitting on the couch like it was a throne instead. Spiky hair looking softer than usual, you wondered what it would feel like to run your fingers through them. His eyes were closed, and he looked tired. Under the dim light of the small lamp that hung from the ceiling, you were practically in awe of how pretty he was.

Cheekbones high and defined, a sharp jawline, like it indicated his sharp personality, delicate brows furrowed, buried in thought.

As if he felt your eyes on him, his eyes snapped open, crimson eyes finding yours. You probably looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, causing him to smirk. "What's your problem?"

"I- uh, I was wondering if you could help me with... math?"

"Again?!" That was a valid question, but it wasn't your fault math was too hard!

"It's okay, Y/N-chan, I can help you instead." You heard Denki's voice, a hand wrapping your shoulder, causing you, Eiji and Bakugou to jump in your places.

"You don't know shit." Bakugou growled, his gaze suddenly predator-like, making Denki wince and pull his hand back. "Don't do me dirty like that, Bakubro," Denki whined. "I'm just trying to help-" His voice suddenly muffled by the hand on his mouth, a hand that belonged to your bother.

"You come here for a second." Eiji told him threateningly, pulling him out of the room with force. "No- no, Kiri, don't do this to me!" The door closed behind them, though, a muffled scream or two could be heard every once in a while.

Everyone ignoring the whole ordeal, went back to what they were doing. Bakugou turned to you, his eyes on the sheet of paper you were holding. "So, does this mean you're helping me?"

Bakugou knew the second you turned to him with that pleading look in your eyes, he was already going to say yes. "Tch," he rolled his eyes, pulling the paper from your hands. "Whatever."

This time, he sat a bit closer to you.

You sat side by side, arms almost touching whenever he wrote something. "Did you understand this one?" He asked, the pencil he was holding pointing to the second question. Surprisingly, you did understand it. When you nodded, he smiled, it wasn't one of those cocky smirks, this one was a genuine, small smile that took your breath away.

"Then do this one yourself."

You gulped, tearing your eyes away from his face as you felt your face heating up. It took you a bit to get focused on what was in front of you, but you were able to use what Bakugou had explained to you, and eventually reached the answer.

"That's... That was pretty good." He told you as he inspected what you wrote. This time, it was you who smiled brightly, taking his breath away. He could feel his heart suddenly going crazy, hammering his chest as if it was trying to set itself free. And why did he have this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach? This dreadful but also... warm feeling?

He didn't like this. He didn't like it at all.

He stood up, his face suddenly angry, causing your smile to drop. He gritted his teeth when he realized he wanted to sit right back and apologize, to make you smile again. But instead, he picked his phone up from the table and turned his back to you.

He exited the room in a hurry that didn't even let you say anything, or thank him.

"Oi, shitty hair! I'm out." You heard him scream to your brother.

"So soon?" Eiji asked though the door already shut mid-sentence.

***

Although Bakugou had promised himself that he was going to stay away from you, as far as he could, this thing -whatever this was- went on for weeks. He wanted to stop, Bakugou really tried to not think of you whenever he saw a fucking number, but it didn't take long for him to realize he couldn't.

So instead, he came to see you every day, with or without the Bakusquad and helped you with math even if you didn't ask for him to.

You always asked him to, though.

On the other hand, you weren't thrilled about this whole situation either. At first, this was a normal, innocent crush, but as you spent more time with him, you found yourself falling for him. Hard.

"Hey, Bakugou!" You greeted him (you had dropped calling him Bakugou-Kun sometime, though you weren't really sure when), a big smile that you couldn't drop on your face. "Hey, idiot. I brought this shitty thing you like."

He meant donuts.

He didn't want to admit it, but he had only bought it to see the way your eyes sparkled when you held one in your hand, about to take a giant bite out of it.

The rest of the group was already here and settled, so you checked the paper bag in your hands if it had enough for everyone. You smiled brightly when you noticed it did, making your way to the kitchen.

You noticed Eiji standing, leaning to the door, and watching you both with furrowed brows. "Oh, don't look so mad, I'll give one to you too." You told him giggling, interpreting it wrong.

His face softened, also smiling. "Don't forget to give me the strawberry one!"

"We'll see about that!!" You answered as you exited the room.

"Oh, Bakugou-Kun, did you buy us the shit we like too?" Sero said mockingly, making the others snicker. "Shut the fuck up, tape face."

"Oh, but Bakugou-Kun-"

"I said, shut the fuck up!" Suddenly his heart was beating really fast. "Relax, Baku, having feelings for someone is nothing to be ashamed of!" Mina told him, though she already knew the answer he was going to give.

"I don't fucking have feelings, dumbass." Bakugou didn't have feelings, especially not towards you, the sister of his best friend. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off of you, he couldn't stop his heart from racing whenever you smiled, and he couldn't stop feeling like he would do anything for you to smile again when you don't.

"Sure you don't," Mina answered, a sly grin on her face when she noticed Bakugou's confused expression. It wasn't that Bakugou didn't want the feelings, he just couldn't understand them.

They would have taken it further if you hadn't entered the room with a plate full of donuts in your hands. "Nobody touches the Nutella one!" You told them, letting them take a donut.

You narrowed your eyes and sent a threatening look when Denki tried to take the one you were going to eat.

"You're not eating?" You asked when you noticed Bakugou not taking one. He shrugged. "I don't like sweets."

Your brows furrowed in confusion, "Really? Can I eat yours then?" Bakugou found himself smiling to that, thinking about how adorable you looked with a donut in your hand, a shirt that was too big for you, probably stolen from Eiji and sugar powder smeared on your lips. He couldn't help but wonder, what would you do if he just leaned in and kissed you, right then and there? Would you flinch back? Scream at him? Maybe even be disgusted by him?

He decided he didn't want to lea the answer.

***

"Oh, you're staying late?" You asked with a small smile on your lips, making them look so kissable, Bakugou had to look away. "Yeah."

"You have homework?" He asked when you didn't say anything. He didn't want you to leave. "Nope, already did them."

Oh.

"But I kind of wanted to talk to you." You looked nervous, your hands clasped together, anxiously biting your lip. His eyes narrowed, crimson gaze wandering over you like he was trying to read your mind.

"I have-" You started to say, but stopped mid-sentence so he finished your sentence for you internally. ...feelings for you.

(You actually had an upcoming math exam, and you were hoping he could help you study for it, but you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.)

Oh, he wasn't going to let you be the first to confess, so without thinking about it, Bakugou blurted. "I like you." There it was, he did it before you! But why did you look so shocked?

"You what?" You asked, eyes wide, just staring at him. Bakugou could feel his heart getting heavier by the second, hands turning cold and a dreadful knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Weren't you saying the same thing just then?

"I-" should he just tell you to forget about it? No, he wasn't the kind of man to just back off. "You heard me." He told you gruffly. "I like you."

Much to his annoyance, you stayed quiet, not giving him the chance to be happy or sad about it. Just silence. "And? What's your answer?!"

For the first time in this conversation, you looked at him properly. You hadn't noticed how his crimson gaze shined with uncertainty, confusion, and anxiety. He was afraid of your answer, you realized. Even the great Bakugou Katsuki was afraid of rejection.

So instead of giving him a verbal answer, you leaned in instead, your lips touching his softly.

His eyes opened wide with the contact, not being able to understand what was going on. Your lips were so soft, it molded perfectly against his, and he was afraid that if he moved even an inch, you would realize you were making a big mistake and pull back. So he froze.

"Bakugou?" You pulled back slightly after a few seconds, making him want to pull you back and never let go. "Won't you kiss me back?"

To this, Bakugou grinned, his hands suddenly on your back, pulling you towards him. The last thing you remembered before you lost yourself in the kiss was how soft his lips were, and how amazing he smelled.

***

"You know we still have to tell Eiji, right?" You told him, running your fingers through your messed up hair, trying to look like you didn't kiss a boy for the past... well, you weren't sure how long, actually.

"Yeah." He answered, lips slightly pink.

"You know, I think I have the perfect idea of how to tell him."

"You do?" He asked, now slightly intrigued. You nodded, standing up. Eiji was in his room, so you pulled Bakugou by the wrists up the stairs. "Come on." You told him when he hesitated. "This will work."

You knocked on your brother's door, opening it just the slightest when you heard him tell you to come in. "Hey, Eiji."

"Hey, sis." He smiled widely, not aware of Bakugou behind the door. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much." You shrugged, "Just wanted to tell you that Bakugou and I are dating, okay bye!" You shut the door after you without giving him the time to say anything, running down the stairs, and pulling Bakugou after you.

Your brother opened his door, running after you, his face as red as his hair. "You what?!"

"You idiot!" Bakugou screamed. "So this was your great idea?"

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