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#i did v good on it last year but it wasn’t quite the perfect run.... gonna be fixing that this time :-)

misora-msby · 3 years

Text

embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together.

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying!

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!”

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?”

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side.

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.”

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.”

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.”

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

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from-a-reckless-writer · 3 years

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v. red.

read on ao3

Red.

The sky turned to scarlet, and you were forced to watch the brother you loved, turn into a monster. There are screams and smoke, and you are tied here watching it all unfold.

Lena hates red.

Deep Mahogany.

All of sixteen, you walk into his study.

Your father is slumped over his desk. There is something wrong, you already know. After all, you are familiar with the sight of death. It has greeted you once before. Death even held your tiny hand, on the shoreline, as you dug your feet in the sand, listening to the waves that sound like screams, waiting and waiting for arms that never came back.

This time you wait as the EMT’s carry him out. This time Lex holds your hand. His hand is bigger, colder, and it should’ve scared you then; how eerily uncanny his resemblance to Death was.

Merlot.

Somebody needs to clean it up, or it will stain.

For some reason, that was the most dominant thought in your head. Even though most of the wine had soaked through your shirt, some still dripping down the side of your cheeks, an ocean of red on you, compared to the mere droplets on the expensive rug.

Lillian had only become more cruel through the years. The sting on your skin and the shock of the scene pushing the quiet thought into the surface.

You can’t even remember what you had said, what you did, you can only remember how numb you felt after it all.

Sweet Cherry.

Her lips are the sweetest thing you have ever tasted. How you lived without the flavor of her on your tongue all these years is something you will never know.

She drips between your fingers and you lap it all up. She is cursing in Spanish under her breath, and love, you think, are the lasting deep red lines down your back.

She will mark you for forever.

Ruby.

“You spoil her,” Sam accuses.

You answer back with a scoff. “Be thankful I didn’t buy Disneyland for the day.”

You didn’t even know if the little girl would like it, but jewelry was what you got when you were her age. Shiny trinkets and precious lockets from wherever it is that Lionel hailed from. Even now, his old golden watch is still ticking steadily against your wrist.

It just so happened that Sam had agreed to get the girl’s ears pierced, and suddenly it was the perfect gift.

You never even knew there was something missing, till these two walked into your life, till Sam wrapped you up in her warmth.

And you’ve never been good with kids, but Ruby looks up to you with shining eyes, and you know no golden luxury you can buy her will ever convey just how much she means to you.

Yet, you still try anyway.

“Your earrings look very beautiful, young lady.”

“Thank you! They’re a gift. Rubies for Ruby, my aunt said!”

Blood

Twenty-two and new to the city, and almost killed. Twice.

There is so much blood between you and Supergirl, between you and Metropolis, between you and your mother and your brother.

And so,

Lena Luthor hates red.

It’s too loud.

Too flashy.

Screams danger.

Reminds her too much of the day she lost everything, once again.

But-

Fate had bigger plans it seems.

Because Merlot is what got you loose-limbed and loose-lipped, an ‘I love you’ stumbling out. Before you know it, her lips are pressed to yours, and oh, oh, this is sweeter than cherries.

Sweeter than anything you’ve ever thought you deserve.

And after-

After the drunken confessions and the shy sleepovers, ruby red boots take residence in your closet, along with a cape of the same shade.

The sacred piece of cloth you wrap around you whenever she’s away.

Because deep mahogany is the shade of the bench you two are sitting on when she asks for your hand. And the waves in Midvale sound like laughter. There are tears streaming down your face, and her bright blue eyes can’t quite believe you said yes.

As if there was ever going to be another answer.

-and blood.

Because it should’ve been impossible, but it wasn’t.

And now there is a little girl with black hair but blue-eyes. The blood running in her veins, something stronger, and just a tad bit magical, something alien and human all at the same time.

A miracle, really.

Because scarlet are the sunsets in Argo City, and the light plays softly and so beautiful in Kara’s eyes.

God, you think, this is love.

This is Love.

Because red is Kara’s sun, and Kara’s cape, and Kara’s robe when she said her vows.

Red is Kara's love.

And Lena Luthor hated red, but everything changed when she saw the color of the thread that connected her to Kara Zor-El.

#i dragged the words to this fic out of my brain #and they were screaming at me not to be let out #this fic did not want to be written.#but here the fuck it is #so good 4 me ig #the reckless writer writes #a supercorp ficlet of sorts #if u see a typo no u didnt #supercorptober 2021

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

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A Night To Remember ~ Bang Chan [Request]

WORD COUNT: 6.7K

GENRE: Angst with a happy ending

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of self deprecation, I hope this is okay I know you asked for an idol to say something but bissshhhh I’m a jyp nation stan I would rip my own heart out, so I hope this is okay!!!

As a nurse, you were used to going to different gala events occasionally throughout the year. It was one thing medical school hadn't prepared you for, meeting everyone that technically paid your wages. Your boss would throw them so that the benefactors of the hospital that you worked in could get to know the people their money was going to. The hospital also through functions in order to raise money for other things benefactors couldn't help with. None of the events you'd been to was as extravagant as the gala that JYP was hosting for a charity event but it was still a gala nonetheless. The gala was there to raise money for different charities, people could bid on different things like a night with different Idols. A song was written by a specific idol if they bid high enough on it and so on and so forth. Chan had told you about this event months ago wanting to mentally prepare you for the night and allow you to get a dress in time and he was excited about it as well. When he was a trainee he'd helped out at the Gala's before but he'd never gotten to attend one until now which made you all the more nervous about what you looked like since you were his plus one.

"Are you sure this is okay?" You asked your best friend - Kayla - through the webcam as you ran your hands down the fabric of your dress waiting anxiously for her opinion, she'd been with you when you bought it but it didn't mean she liked it. The dress was perfect for this kind of event but that didn't make you feel any less insecure about it all, you were going to be surrounded by insanely beautiful people. All of them prettier than the next, not to mention how fit they were so it was safe to say you felt like you were going to stick out like a sore thumb. Your friend shook her head at you taking in the sight of the light sky blue tulle, v-neck gown with its A-line silhouette dress, it was breathtaking to see you in it again. The sleeveless dress showing off your arms perfectly and the applique embellishment made it look fancy but not too fancy.

"Y/n I told you when you bought it how nice it was-" You cut her off as soon as she said the word nice, to you that meant it wasn't nice at all.

"Yes! Nice! I don't want nice, I have to look great. C-Chan is going to be surrounded by all of these beautiful people and if I don't match up I'm going to-" You stopped talking when you heard the front door to your apartment open and close followed by the sounds of Chan coming in from work. Kayla smirked as soon as she saw the look on your face, she knew that meant Chan was home and he hadn't seen what you were wearing yet so you had to prepare yourself for it.

"Go, you look fabulous." She ushered you off the call as she shook her head at you before hanging up. No matter what she said to you she knew there was nothing she could say to make you feel less insecure about it.

"Chris?" You called out down the stairs as you heard him moving around, probably putting everything from work away before coming up to you. You were looking around the corner of the stairs as you hid your body so he couldn't see you,

"Yeah?" His head peered around the corner of the staircase and you smiled at him happily. It felt good to see his big eye staring back at you after not seeing him all day. As soon as he saw the way you were hiding your body he knew what you were doing and chuckled to himself softly,

"Are you in the dress? The dress you've been hiding from me for the last month and a half?" He smirked as soon as he saw you nodding your head and practically began to sprint up the staircase to come and see you. He'd been dying to see you in it since the moment you told him you found the perfect outfit you squealed hiding in the bedroom again. The main reason you'd hidden the dress from Chan was that you wanted it to be a surprise for him to see on the night that and you were nervous about what he would think of it. The bedroom door swung open and Chan stood there for a second just taking in the sight of you.

"Babe..." He breathed out as soon as he saw you standing there, you were doing your best to look as good as possible since you weren't dolled up yet or had the finished look on.

"I-I'm not finished yet, I still have to put on my makeup and do my hair but then I'll be ready by the time you are." You reassured him as you did a small turn in the dress giving him a full look at the dress. Chan's mouth was hanging open just a little as he continued to take in every angle of the dress you were wearing, struggling to find the right words to say as he stared at you. For someone who often wrote songs, he was finding it hard to speak at the minute which made you more nervous about his thoughts on it all.

"G-Go shower," You giggled as he continued to stare, you pushed him into the bathroom before sitting down at the vanity in your shared bedroom staring at yourself in the mirror. Trying not to let your insecure mind take over and run wild with thoughts you knew couldn't be true. He hates what you're wearing you know. Did you see the look on his face? He's never been more disgusted by you then he is right now and he's going to be so embarrassed at the party tonight. You look awful.

As you got ready your mind kept lingering back to the look he'd given you when he first saw you in the gown made you anxious about it, you couldn't quite read what it meant. The thoughts in your head continued to race about how awful you look and then going over the look on Chan's face. Overanalysing every last interaction you had with him before he went into the shower. You couldn't decide if it was a good or a bad stare that he'd been giving you, then the way his voice sounded when he called you "babe..." It felt as though he was embarrassed about what you were wearing and didn't know how to tell you.

"Y/n?" Chan called out for the third time in a row as he tried to gain your attention but you were lost in your own space, you turned to look over your shoulder at Chan who was fully dressed in his tux, struggling to do up the cuff links on his shirt.

"Help?" He whimpered out as he continued to struggle with them, you got up without a word and buttoned up the cuff links which were shaped as the doodle he always drew. You'd gotten them custom made for Christmas last year never thinking he would wear them but as a small gag gift.

"You're in your own world again, what's going on in that gorgeous brain of yours?" Chan questioned when he noticed you hadn't spoken in a while, you shook your head giving him the biggest convincing smile you could manage not wanting to ruin the evening with your head.

"Nothing. Can you do my choker up for me?" You slid the small diamond choker into his hands and he turned you around, doing up the small necklace before he placed a soft and gentle kiss on the back of your neck.

"We'll be late, come on," He tapped your shoulder softly as he headed out of the bedroom and down the staircase, the car that was picking you up for the night was waiting outside with the rest of the boys and their dates inside. Thoughts came rushing back to you as you thought about how great they were all going to look, all of them slimmer than you and probably more beautiful too. You'd only met Changbin's date before and never the rest,

"Baby? Come on, they're waiting." Chan rushed you as he saw you standing still at the door he was already near the car when he noticed you weren't behind him. He frowned to himself before going back to your side and linking your arms together so you didn't have to walk alone.

"I don't want to be late, I have some last-minute things to set up." He mumbled into your ear pressing a soft kiss against your head as he walked with you towards the car opening the door so you could get in beside Felix and his date who was smiling and introducing herself but all you could see was how gorgeous she looked in comparison to you.

"Y/n," You whispered as she reached out to shake your hand, then you began introducing yourself to everyone else the boys were with and went back to sitting in silence. Your mind kicking you in the head for not dressing up more. All of them looked expensive tonight and fully glammed out compared to you, you were beginning to feel like you were underdressed of the occasion.

"I had my makeup and hair done by one of the stylists, Hannie arranged it all for me. Who did yours?" Jisung's date questioned you as she looked at you, you'd already forgotten her name after being in the car for five minutes which you felt bad about but couldn't help.

"O-oh I did it, I did my own hair and makeup," You said proudly as you smiled at her but the look on her face wasn't one of being impressed she just glanced you up and down while nodding and humming to herself.

"It's...lovely, you look good." Good. You could tell by the way she said the word that she didn't mean it at all. Maybe that's what they were all thinking, you sank back against the seat as you felt more eyes on you but you tried to ignore it turning to look at your boyfriend but he was busy. Chan was lost in conversation with Changbin about something they were auctioning off so you couldn't drop into a conversation with him about anything so you were forced to let your brain overthink once again. Look at how much better they look, far more expensive than this piece of fabric you're wearing and look at Chan. Not even paying attention to you, instead, he's talking to Changbin and staring at Lila, Lila and Changbin look cute together. Your dress is tacky. Your makeup is awful, you saw the way they all looked at you, you know it's true.

Your mind continued to go on throughout the rest of the journey making you imagine how great the others were going to turn out in the press photos while yours wouldn't look good at all. As you went to get out of the car Chan's hand on your wrist stopped you,

"Why are we not getting out?" You asked softly as he stopped you from getting out after the rest of them had already left, he reached across and shut the door behind them.

"I have something to do first," He mumbled as he tapped on the glass that separated the driver from the rest of the limo, you frowned at him as the car began to move you stared out of the window. The limo was moving around the back of the building until you reached a back entrance to the Four Season's hotel away from where every person and camera could potentially see you together. This is what it used to be like when you first started dating, taking back entrances and avoiding being spotted together but that was over now. Your relationship had been out for a year and most of STAY loved you and how happy you seemed to make Chan.

"Come on," He took your hand in his as he hurried you into the building after getting out of the car, you picked up the bottom of your dress not wanting to stand in any of the puddles that were in the back ally behind the hotel.

"Why are we going through the back?" You questioned laughing softly thinking it was just like old times but Chan didn't seem to laugh.

"I have something to do, go and get a drink at the bar." He told you as he walked you into a small room where a group of people were all standing around and waiting, one man on the bar who looked bored. It didn't look like they were apart of the JYP gala so you turned to check if Chan had the right room,

"Chan?" You called out but he was already out of the room before you had a chance to say anything to him the door was already shut in your face and an elderly lady smiled as she walked over to you.

"You look very beautiful dear," You smiled back at her, thanking her as you looked around the room trying to figure out why you were left back here while Chan walked off to do whatever it was he was doing.

"Are you here for the charity gala?" You questioned kindly as you both walked over to the bar to get a drink together, you held onto her arm being careful she didn't fall and break a hip.

An hour later Chan still hadn't come back to see you and the elderly lady you'd been talking with was taken away and then slowly one by one the room began to empty until it was just you sitting at a table alone. Even the man that had been serving at the bar left to go and do something else. You'd called and text Chan over 12 times asking what was happening but there was no response from him,

"If he didn't want me to come why invite me?" You mumbled to yourself as you pushed your phone back into your bag trying not to let your brain overwork itself. Playing around with one of the coasters as you tried to entertain yourself for a while

"Y/n?" You dropped the coaster and turned around when you heard a familiar voice call out your name, standing by the door was Brian, Young K, from day6. He frowned when he saw you sitting alone at the table when not too long ago he'd just passed by Chan who was in the main function room alone. He glanced inside of the room wondering why you were in there alone thinking maybe you'd had a fight or you were just trying to get some air.

"Why are you in here?" He nodded for you to come out so you followed him out and into the hallway immediately not wanting to be cramped up in there all night.

"Chan said he had something to do and to wait for him," You felt a pit begin to grow in the bottom of your stomach as you read the look across Young K's face. It was clear he was trying to come up with some kind of lie to tell you,

"I just saw him, he told me to come and get you, come on." You could tell it was a lie but you went along with it anyway not wanting to throw a wrench in his evening. You just followed Brian out into the main area and gasping as you looked around at everything in the room, it was more impressive than you could have imagined. The entire hall looked incredible, it was covered in expensive-looking decorations, white table cloths everywhere and everyone looked like they belonged there in huge dresses, ball gowns and suits. Making you feel more out of place than before since you were only in a simple dress for this kind of thing,

"He's over here," You followed behind Brian who was trying to push through the crowds of people everyone talking over one another as they tried to hear each other over the music.

"Chan, I brought Y/n, like you asked me too." The tone of voice from Brian made it clear that Chan hadn't asked him to come and get you at all and was trying to make Chan go along with it. You came out from standing behind Brian and smiled at Chan who was standing with Sana and Mina both of them looking stunning in their dresses. Each of them wearing white princess silhouette gowns with matching necklaces around their necks. They looked amazing but what else was new? They always looked breathtakingly beautiful.

"Hi babe, thanks Brian I owe you one." The two of them exchanged looks and you stared down at the ground trying not to feel self-conscious in front of the two most attractive girls you knew in the building.

"You guys look insanely beautiful," You complimented when you finally got the courage to speak to them, Sana went to thank you when Chan shook his head at you,

"Babe don't. Don't be weird," Your chest tensed as your heart clenched in on itself on what Chan had said to you so you went back to staring at the floor and not wanting to say anything to them in case Chan said it was weird again.

"Alone again?" Brian chuckled as he came up behind you at the bar, you smiled weakly at him as you glanced over at Chan who was still standing with Mina and Sana as they engaged in conversation again. Since you'd joint them it had been an awkward and dulling silence but the moment you left them it was back to talking with one another.

"Any idea why they're in matching necklaces and almost identical outfits?" Brian looked back over at the girls and then pointed out the rest of the twice members that were in the same kind of outfits,

"They're being auctioned off to other idols and celebrities for a day out. Did Chan not tell you any of this?" You shook your head as you glanced around the room at everyone,

"He told me there would be auctions but not what was up for auction," You shrugged your shoulders passing it off as something Chan forgot to mention to you,

"Chan and Changbin have produced some songs that are up for grabs, the boys are up for auction as well as me-" He flashed the number that was on his tie '345' and then smiled as he went back to explaining.

"People will get the chance to bid on us for days out, meals we'll pay for and such. All the money going to the charities of tonight's event." As he explained everything the drinks you'd ordered were placed down in front of you and He paid for the drinks before you could making you sigh at him you hated whenever someone would pay for you.

"Gotta be quicker than that to pay," He nudged you playfully as he helped you carry the drinks over to Chan who was watching you both closely wondering what it was you were talking about.

"You should bid on me tonight, I've seen who wants to and I would much rather you have me for a day than someone them." He teased placing the drinks down onto the table while Chan eyed you up carefully again as he tried to make out what was making you laugh.

"What's so funny?" He questioned when he heard your small giggle leave your throat,

"Brian wanting me to bid on him-" You tried to explain but Chan cut you off quickly,

"Young K." Chan corrected you as he heard you call him Brian but Brian didn't mind what he was called, it just for joke purposes when he would yell out that he didn't know who Brian was.

"It's okay Chan, she can call me whatever she wants." Brian tried to laugh it off but it was clear Chan didn't find any of what was happening funny so you stayed silent on the matter and sipped on your drink.

"Y/n won't be bidding on anything tonight anyway," You frowned as Chan spoke on your behalf and you shook your head you'd made sure to pack your purse for the sole purpose of bidding on things.

"Why not?" You questioned as you looked to him for an answer,

"You don't need to." He mumbled as he turned to look at Chanbin who was calling his name from another part of the room.

"I have to go on stage to be auctioned off. Stay here. Don't go anywhere." His voice was stern so you just obeyed him not wanting to test him when he seemed he was already in a bad mood for whatever reason tonight. You stayed by the table watching over his drinks and the girls as they walked away to go and get ready for their stage time.

"I have to go as well, cheer up. Bid on whatever you want. Don't let grumpy pants put you in a bad mood." Brian winked at you before leaving to go and join the rest of the guys that were lining up. JYP already standing on the stage clutching a microphone as he announced what was going to happen and how people were supposed to bid on what or who they wanted. Writing down the number of what they wanted on a form and placing their highest bid on the sheet of paper before disclosing it into the boxes at the bars. At the end of the night, the winners would be announced in front of everyone and what they had won.

"Fuck it." You whispered to yourself going over to the bar again as you began writing down the number and how much you wanted to bid on.

"Having fun?" You turned to see the same elderly lady from earlier standing at the bar with you and you smiled at her,

"Lots. Are you?" She nodded over at someone in the crowd and told you that her son was being very nice to her after leaving her in the waiting room for so long.

"Who are you with?" She questioned as she wrote down who she was bidding on before slipping it into the box,

"My boyfriend, Chan from erm Stray kids." You pointed at Chan who was standing on the stage and she smiled at you rubbing your arms softly,

"Very cute, I can't wait to see the press images of you together. Those are always my favourite, and then the photo booth ones from inside the entrance hall...." Your heart sank as you realised there would be no photographs of you and Chan together tonight and then your head convinced you it was because he hated the way you looked in the dress you were wearing. That being the only explanation for sending you through the back entrance tonight instead of the main one where everyone else had gone and then leaving you in the "waiting room".

"Y-Yeah, I can't wait to see them." You lied as you excused yourself back to your table to wait for Chan to come back and get his drinks.

He never went back to the table he was the social butterfly he always was going over to different people in the room and talking with them while he avoided your direction altogether. You didn't blame him though, you loved how much he got along with everyone he met but you just wished he would come and see you for a while.

"Can I clean up for you?" A young waiter asked as he came over to the table, you recognised him as one of the trainees and you shook your head at him.

"No, it's okay. Chan will be over soon." At least you hoped he would be but the longer you stood there the less likely it seemed to be as he kept getting further and further away from you. The moment you saw him getting further away you sighed to yourself,

"A-Actually, just clean it up." You whispered to the trainee before heading in the direction of where the toilet signs were wanting to freshen yourself up a little before you went to ask Chan to go to the photo booth together. You at least wanted something good to come out of tonight. A small photo of you both together to go on your wall back home, it would be cute.

"I mean did you say her dress? Looks like she got it at a discount store," You heard Lila's voice fill the women's bathroom followed by some girly giggles as people followed her into the room. You looked at the door of the toilet booth you were sitting in and bit down on your lip, you were about to leave when they had walked into the room. Mentally thanking yourself for not going out when you wanted to.

"Lila! That's Chan's girlfriend you can't say things like that," You knew that that was Felix's girlfriend trying to defend you but it didn't work since Lila only threw back another comment about you.

"I'm being nice but not telling her to her face. I mean we all went all out. The least she could have done was dress up nice, why do you think Chan made them go around the back?" She started sniggering to herself and the girls joined in,

"He doesn't want to be seen with her in that tacky looking dress," She started laughing harder and your heart sank as she confirmed your fears about Chan forcing you to enter through the back entrance.

"I heard he was going to leave her in the waiting room all night with the elderly ones, the only reason she's come out is that Young K found her and felt sorry for her," Tears began to well up in your eyes as you heard them speak about you as though you were nothing.

"What does she do again?" Jisung's girlfriend asked as she applied lipstick onto her lips passing the colour over to someone else as they all checked themselves out.

"Apart from clinging onto Chan and live off of his money?" Someone laughed loudly and you rolled your head back against the door wanting nothing more than for them all to leave the room so you could get out in one piece. The back exit of the hotel looking more and more attractive as the seconds ticked by.

"She's a nurse, that's why they're so good together cause they understand how busy the other one gets." Someone you didn't recognise said to them in a softer tone trying to get them to stop being so mean but the rest of the girls all scoffed.

"Whatever. The least she could have done is tried to look presentable." The doors all shut behind them and you could have sunk down onto the floor in a pool of tears but you stopped yourself, coming out of the stall to look at yourself in the mirror. They were right, why would Chan want you to go around the front when you were dressed like this. You cleaned your hands before heading out into the hall bumping straight into Lila and the girls who all stared at you in horror as they realised you'd heard everything they'd been saying in there and then Lila smirked shrugging her shoulders when you met her gaze.

"E-Excuse me," You mumbled pushing yourself out of their way and heading towards the main doors wanting to leave when cameras began flashing. The girls all began to laugh as you backed away from the doors going into the main function room to find a way back out.

"I know, it looks awful. I tried to tell her but I didn't know how to so I just stayed silent." Chan was standing in front of you talking to Jisung and Felix and you felt your heart clench even more than it did when you were trapped in the bathroom. Even your own boyfriend thought you looked awful, everything confirming for you that it was the reason he'd taken you through the back and tried to leave you there for the night.

"I swear if it wasn't for you guys I wouldn't have come, it's so embarrassing." He let out a breathy chuckle not noticing the look he was getting from Felix when he spotted you behind him but you just walked away in silence keeping your head down as you tried to find the fastest route out of there.

"Y/n? Where are you going their about to announce some of the winners." Brian said as he noticed you heading towards the back door of the room your hand resting on the door as you stopped to speak to him so you didn't seem rude since he'd been the kindest to you all night.

"H-Home, not feeling too great." You lied as you looked at him, Chan watching from behind as he noticed that you were alone with Brian again. Jealously bubbling inside of him as he made his way over to you. Lila and her friends all gathered at the bar to start watching smirking at one another at what was about to unfold in front of them.

"I'll walk you out, come on." Brian nodded over to the front entrance again and you shook your head fear rising in you at the thought of going out of the main doors.

"I-I'll go out the back. I wouldn't want to risk embarrassing someone with how awful I look tonight." Brian frowned watching you walk out of the door as he tried to figure out what you meant by all of that.

"Chan what did-" He stopped trying to ask what you meant when Chan stormed out of the room after you, not saying anything to anyone as he just left the venue.

"Leave me alone," You mumbled to Chan as he tried to convince you to talk to him for the 100th time in a row, you'd gotten into the same cab since he left not long after you and demanded you talk to him but you couldn't. You didn't trust yourself not to cry in front of him in the taxi ride and now you were home all you wanted to do was get out of the dress and sleep for a week, never to be seen again. Along with burning the dress the moment you had the chance to.

"Y/n, we have to talk about this! What is wrong with you tonight?" He questioned but you kicked off your heels and continued walking up the staircase towards the bedroom, taking out the earrings and putting them into the jewellery box on the vanity. You ignored his question not wanting to get into it but he just kept pushing you for answers.

"You've been in an awful mood all night, what's your problem?!" He questioned once he saw you struggling to undo the zip on the back of your dress. Your arms fell down in defeat as he had the nerve to tell you that you were the one in the bad mood,

"I've been in a bad mood?" You questioned as you stared at him dumbfounded that he was accusing you of being the one in a bad mood.

"What's your problem? We went out for a nice night and you've ruined it by leaving early." You rolled your eyes as you went back to struggling to reach the zip at the back of your dress,

"You could have stayed there, lord knows you were having fun without me before I came in with Brian." You mumbled to yourself, wanting to scream out in annoyance with the dress when you couldn't get it undone quick enough.

"Talk to me when you're out of this mood," He grumbled at you as he turned to leave the bedroom, you sniffled as the tears you'd been holding in all night finally began to pour down your cheeks.

"If you were so embarrassed by what I was wearing you should have just told me! Instead of going to great lengths to keep me hidden away from every person and camera possible." You breathed out as you stared at the back of his head, his shoulders tensed up as he turned back to look at you.

"Is that what you thought I was doing?" His eyes softened as he stared at you waiting for your answer,

"No. Its what I know you were doing. I-I heard Lila and that in the bathroom, f-for fuck sake Chan you made me go through the back entrance and left me in a waiting room for an hour! Completely forgetting I was there!" The tears came gushing down your cheeks as the night stayed clear in your head. Your hands began to shake as you tried to get the dress off your body but it wouldn't budge. The zipper staying in place as you continued to try and get it off you,

"G-Get it off me, please." You stumbled over your words continuing to struggle until you cried out,

"Get this fucking thing off me!" Your hands began shaking viciously as you tried to get the dress to come undone Chan wrapped his arms around you from behind as he began unzipping the dress for you as he helped you out of it. The two of you sunk down onto your knees as he brought you into his chest but you moved away from him, shaking your head as you cried.

"I never meant for you to think that-" He tried to defend himself but you shook your head again, your mind going back to what you heard him say before.

"I heard what you were telling the boys, that I look awful and I'm embarrassing you...Next time save me the embarrassment and tell me." You got up from the floor heading to the en-suite when Chan stopped you by pressing his body against yours. His heart was racing you could feel it on your bare back as he wrapped his arms around you from behind as he shook his head. Promising you that it wasn't you that he was talking about.

"Baby no, N-No. I wasn't talking about you." He sighed, leaving kisses up and down your shoulder as he tried to reassure you that it wasn't you that he'd been talking about. The more he kissed you the harder you cried not wanting him to lie to you,

"I heard you, I heard Lila and the girls. Y-You should have told me at home and I wouldn't have gone Chan. You wouldn't have to have gone to great lengths in hiding me." He turned you around to face him but you avoided his gaze keeping your eyes turned to the floor until he cupped your face in his hand.

"Whatever Lila said is a lie, I took you through the back because I know how insecure you are about cameras, I didn't want you to be uncomfortable with them." He whispered to you as he bent down to look into your eyes whenever you would move them off him,

"I left you in the back room while I went to finish working on a song. I was on my way when Sana and Mina asked me to stand with them..." You scoffed at his poor attempt at an excuse, the first one you could believe but not this one,

"Yeah, right. Like I was born yesterday." You swatted his hands away from your body but he pulled you back to him not letting you get away from him that easily. Not when he had to tell you the truth and make you see the truth.

"I'm not and never will be embarrassed to be seen with you. What would make you think anything like that?" He reassured you as he kissed your forehead,

"Y-You didn't say anything when you saw the dress at home and then when we went through the back I thought maybe it was true...T-Then Lila in the bathroom-" A sob interrupted you as you cried out again feeling pathetic for crying over something like this in front of him,

"Then when I was leaving you said how awful someone looked and how embarrassing it was..." Chan could see why you thought he was doing the best he could to keep you hidden but he shook his head.

"Lila is a piece of work, I'll talk with Changbin about it later. Y/n. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on...You could have rocked up in a bin bag and I would have loved you for it." He whispered as he sat you down on the edge of the bed beside you, linking his hands with yours as he tried to get you to listen to him and pay attention.

"The only thing embarrassing about tonight was that Lila won a day with me, she didn't bother bidding on anything except for me. The thing I said looked awful..." You looked up at him with your eyes teared up and bloodshot, he cupped your face in his hands as he shook his head leaning down to peck your lips.

"Was Sana's necklace, none of them wanted to wear them but their managers said it looked great. I didn't have the heart to say it didn't." Everything he was telling you was starting to make sense, deep down inside Chan would never do anything or say anything that could hurt you but in those moments your head did all of the overthinking for you.

"I'm sorry." You whispered to him as you snuggled your head into his chest, his arms automatically wrapping around your body as he whispered that it was okay.

"I love you, you looked stunning tonight babe." He whispered to you as he pressed small kisses on the top of your head repeating it over and over to you.

"I really do love the dress..." He whispered as you sniffled against him again,

"I love you too Channie," You whispered to him not answering him on the dress subject since it was just bringing bad memories to your mind.

"Come on. Let's get you into a nice hot shower and then I'll make us a hot drink." He tapped your side carefully as he helped you up from the bed turning to leave for the bathroom when his phone started vibrating from inside his pocket.

"You bid on Brian-Hyung?" He stared at his phone as he read the text from Brian, glancing over his shoulder you smirked to see the smirking emojis from the older idol,

Tell Y/n to put on her dancing shoes we're going to have a great day! You started giggling to yourself as you pulled Chan towards the bathroom trying to make him forget about it,

"I'll swap my day with Lila for your day with Brian Hyung," He mumbled as he looked at you not wanting to get jealous over you and Brian again.

"How about we just dump the day with Lila and you come with me and Brian?" You questioned as a text came through to your phone confirming your win on both Chan and Brian for a day together, outbidding Lila by a mile by the looks of it.

"Did I ever mention that you're the best girlfriend a guy could ask for?" You shook your head as Chan picked you up carefully and carried you towards the bathroom,

"I don't think you've ever mentioned it Christopher. Tell me please," You giggled as he kicked the bathroom door shut and began explaining all of the reasons you were so great to you.

Tagline: @taestannie @channiewoo @kneel-begyourpardon @minholuvs @lkwonmj

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

pogue v. kook

summary: after an unexpected event that leaves you in shambles, topper thorton, rafe cameron, and kelce prove to be unliekly friends.

warnings: typos, probably.

notes: i had this idea and posted it, to which i got some good feedback, and then @anonymous0writer entertained all of my ideas so i thought why not have her write some of it. i’ve also made an option to be removed from my taglist. it’s getting quite long and there will be no hard feelings if you want to be removed.

this is my gif. please credit if using.

You were not a Kook.

Not by blood, anyway. Kiara and Sarah had roped you in on the “Kook lifestyle” over the years with sleepovers and other shenanigans, and despite being the only one out of the trio who was a Pogue, it never felt like you were disparaged. Upon meeting them for the first time at fifteen when you moved to the Outer Banks, you knew that these girls would be the type of people you’d want to keep around for a while. Now that all of you were about to embark on the next chapter of your lives, it seemed like the perfect summer to relax before leaving for college.

You were aware, mostly because of JJ, the attitude Pogues held towards the residents on the other side of the island. Then came Sarah dating Topper, Rafe’s insistence on annoying the absolute hell out of all of you, and Kelce’s back and forth attitude when he was with his friends versus when he was alone. It was tiring and even you had to admit life would’ve been better if you were ignorant towards the “Kook vs. Pogue” debacle. You were a Pogue through and through.

When JJ asked you to be his girlfriend eight months ago, you felt like things were falling into place and your life was running how it should be. You two had been the first to break the sacred rule that John B. seemed to be the only one to reinforce and none of the other Pogues had any objections about your relationship as you two had been pining after one another for what seemed like an eternity.

But a month ago was when you felt a sudden change. It was unspoken, subtle, and hard to pinpoint. JJ became less available and wasn’t as forthcoming as he usually was. You could tell he became more reserved and it looked as if he had to force himself to sit next to you on the HMS Pogue or greet you with a kiss when you arrived at the Chateau. Your mind immediately went to his home life and you decided not to ask any questions, knowing JJ would much rather deal with it on his own and come to you if he needed anything.

However, seeing all of the Pogues laugh at the far left table on the outdoor patio at The Wreck had put the first seed of doubt in your mind. JJ was sitting next to Kiara while John B. and Sarah were in front of them, Pope on the end, laughing loudly that you were sure the other beachgoers were able to hear them from the other end. You had been walking aimlessly, wanting to breath the scent of salt air and walked the short path you usually took when you wanted to clear your mind when you stumbled upon the Pogues hanging out with one another, seemingly without inviting you. You tried not to think about it too much.

By this time, you noticed the sudden change in JJ’s mood and attitude. When you were around, he barely spoke and averted his gaze whenever you tried to reach out for him. His muscles would tense when you’d lean on his chest or grab his hand but you noticed he had no issue letting Pope jump on his back as a joke or hold his hand out for Kiara when she stepped off of the boat.

The hurt in your chest grew every time you’d put your hypothesis -- you being the only person he shied away from -- to the test, it left you with internal pain as you realized JJ was talking to you less. He didn’t come over as often as he used to nor did he volunteer to walk you home like he always did. JJ almost never kissed you in public, opting to kiss your cheek instead or give you a loose hug as a way of saying hello or goodbye. But when you sat the other Pogues interacting with JJ, it was business as usual. You thought about talking to the others about what you’d been noticing, but every time you saw them around JJ, it was a reminder that they were friends long before you moved onto the island three years prior.

You knew it wasn’t your place to talk to them about the issues you were having, and you knew you were most likely blowing this feeling out of proportion. You rationalized by telling yourself what you had been noticing was nothing but your mind playing tricks on you and it wasn’t like the Pogues were ignoring you in full. The lost touches JJ failed to make up, the eyes that dropped to the floor when you entered, the hushed tones when you spoke up felt like it happened more often as you started to overthink. It left you feeling hollow inside as if there was a vacuum of space that wasn’t able to be filled no matter how many times you tried to distract yourself.

The feeling of uneasiness in your stomach first began when you and the rest of the Pogues were lounging in the living room of the Chateau one evening. You were on the couch with JJ, you were on one side while he was on the other side when, usually, you’d be perched on his chest. Your stomach sank as JJ laughed, eyes lighting up in the way you loved, when Kiara started dancing, hips swaying to the soft beat of music pumping from her phone. As soon as your blonde haired boyfriend practically leaped up once the girl gestured for him to join her, you felt your body disconnect. Almost as if you were watching the whole scene play out from outside your body.

There you were, sitting on the couch, frozen and Kiara danced with your boyfriend when you struggled to get him to acknowledge you. You watched silently as Kiara moved her hips while JJ’s fingertips grazed the material of her shirt as he brought her closer, dancing along to the invisible steps Kiara set in place. It was like they’d been practicing for days, learning each other’s moves before they were even made. His body moved gracefully with hers, easy and free. You weren’t sure what hurt more, seeing JJ dance with Kiara the way he used to with you or your friends encouraging their antics and not questioning why they were so close.

Your throat closed up and it became hard to swallow as your heart gave a little ache. The feeling in your gut worsened when JJ moved naturally with Kiara because when he returned to you, he was stiff and tense under your desperate touch. His eyes wouldn’t light up with joy as they settled on you, if they did at all. However, they did as he spun Kiara around, her curls bouncing as his toothy grin emerged, lighting up the Chateau. The familiar smile did nothing to soothe your bad feeling.

No matter how much you yearned for your familiar JJ back and the ease of hanging out with the Pogues, you didn’t move. Your fingers didn’t twitch and your eyes didn’t water as you watched the Pogues slowly join the dancing pair, the four a picturesque scene painted before your eyes, and you hated it. You hated the way they’d been slipping through your fingers and easing you out of their life so easily. You hated knowing they were just fine as friends before you entered the picture and that they wouldn’t bat an eye if you left. As the increasingly negative thoughts jumbled in your head, rising to a symphony of noise, you only saw red. The tears burning the back of your eyes stung, but you refused to cry in front of them. But there was no way you were going to stay, feeling hopeless as you watched your boyfriend and friends slip away.

Pushing yourself up from the couch roughly, you stood, anger seizing your veins. “I’m leaving.” You stated, the words choppy and lined with barbed wire.

The Pogues stopped, halting in their easy movements as they watched you leave in a hurry, steps thudding against the wooden porch and then crunching against the gravel as you fled. John B. looked at JJ with a glance but the blond shrugged and watched the door after you left, not bothering to walk out to ask why you had left so abruptly.

Though that was the last time you set foot in the Chateau for the rest of the week, the sick feeling sitting dormant in your gut worsened. As much as you missed your friends -- when they wanted you around -- you refused to go back to the place you felt like you lost them.

But in a cruel twist of fate, you were forced to as you had forgotten your board at John B’s. You begrudgingly headed back with a sigh. As you walked down the worn path of John B.’s drive way, intending to just grab the surfboard and leave, you had the sickening feeling that the wave was about to break. The wave had been building all this time, and now, as you arrived at the door of the Chateau, the ripped screen door flapping softly in the breeze as your hand was poised to open it, you knew it was gonna crash.

With a sudden rush of bravery or stupidity, you pushed open the door of the Chateau, expecting the Pogues to be on the couch talking or eating. But they weren’t there. No one except the last two people you wanted to see.

JJ and Kiara. JJ with his hands on Kiara’s hips as she sat on his lap, tongue down his throat. Kissing. JJ and Kiara kissing.

You stood on the threshold of the doorway and dropped your metal keys on the wooden floor, causing Kiara and JJ to look at you abruptly. Her eyes widened as she jumped off of JJ’s lap and pushed him away, JJ doing the same as you tried to pick your keys up without looking at either of them. Your hair kept getting in the way as you tried to hold back your tears, not wanting them to see your reaction when you picked up your house keys and turned around.

“Wait!” JJ called out for you. You turned around for a brief moment and watched as he ran after you with Kiara in tow, standing awkwardly at the door frame with her hands crossed over her chest. She avoided your gaze as you looked back and forth between two people you thought were your friends.

“Are you serious?” you asked softly, your voice breaking in the process. JJ winced when he heard you speak.

“Y/N,” he breathed, but he couldn’t find an excuse in his brain that was worthy enough.

“With her?” you asked, finding it harder to fight back the tears.

“Hey,” JJ said, a little edge in his voice that told you all you needed to know. “That’s your best friend.”

“No, she’s not,” you said. “Neither of you are my friends.”

“Don’t walk away,” JJ pleaded as you turned around. He jumped forward to reach for your arm, pulling you back gently to ask for your forgiveness, but you knew he was only sorry because he got caught.

“We’re done, JJ,” you said, pointing between the both of you. You turned towards Kiara and motioned the same. “We are not friends.”

“Y/N,” Kiara said, her voice breaking the same as yours had done a mere moment ago when her guilt settled in. “I swear we didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“But it did happen,” you replied. “You were making out with my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, and you feel guilty because I caught you doing it.”

“Don’t throw away our friendship,” JJ pleaded with erratic breaths. He could feel his chest compress as if someone had been throwing continuous punches without letting him take a breather. “We can fix this. We can fix us.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” you began, throat tight, but you had to get the words out, “you threw away our friendship the minute you decided to cheat on me.” You turned towards Kiara. “How could you do this?”

Kiara looked at you with glossy eyes and you recalled all the times you would’ve dropped everything to comfort her and dry her teary eyes, but now you couldn’t be bothered to give her a tissue. You scoffed and chose not to spare either one of them a glance as you turned away, your heart beating in your chest, running to the clearing above the beachside.

You sat on a patch of rock overlooking the ocean below you with your knees to your chest, water droplets splashing on your kneecaps from tears you were trying to hold back. The sound of the birds chirping above you and the water roaring below you weren’t enough to drown the negative thoughts swimming in your head and you were left with a bitter, empty feeling as you wished to be one of the beachgoers who enjoyed the sunny day.

“Mind if I sit?” a voice asked from behind you. You turned around after wiping your nose and underneath your eyes with the back of your hand and saw Topper Thorton standing, looking down at you with an expression you couldn’t read.

“If you’re here to make fun of me,” you said, trying to make it seem like you hadn’t been crying a few minutes prior to his arrival, “I’m not really in the mood.”

Topper shook his head and sat next to you, leaving adequate space between the both of you. When he realized you weren’t objecting or told him to go away, he mimicked your stance and pulled his knees to his chest as he looked at where your gaze was. Topper could hear your quiet breaths as you tried to calm yourself down and he tried not to look at the dark circles beneath your eyes. In truth, the boy hadn’t found any reason to find you annoying or hate you completely, but it wasn’t hard to put you into the group he never got along with. You tried to ignore his presence, finding that, for once, he was not being as annoying as he was when he was with Rafe and Kelce.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Topper asked awkwardly. You laughed ironically, wiped your eyes, and looked at him with an incredulous expression.

“Why do you care? I don’t want to be the subject of whatever you and your friends laugh about.”

Topper shook his head and he knew he had no reason to be mad at what you said. He knew how he and his friends were. There was no denying how brutal they could be as they teased your friends, that much Topper knew. But he couldn’t stop himself from following you when he saw you run past him hastily, disappearing into the bushes. Topper’s curiosity got the better of him and he couldn’t explain the heartbreak he felt in his chest for you when he saw your usually bright and chirpy demeanor crumble into a teary-eyes ball on the warm rock below him.

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he said softly, turning his head to look at you. You stared ahead and wiped your eyes once again, not knowing how to respond. “I know what you think of me and I know you have no reason to trust what I’m saying, but I just want to know if you’re okay.”

You stole a glance at Topper and saw he was looking at you already. His shoulders were relaxed and his attention seemed to be completely devoted to you, which was an odd thought to come across. You’d never spoken to Topper without Kelce or Rafe beside him, nor did you have any pleasant conversations with the boy who claimed to care for your wellbeing. Topper made no effort to comment on your unruly appearance, or the fact that your eyes continuously leaked with tears you desperately tried to hide, but part of you didn't care. He was the first person in a while to ask if you were doing okay.

“No,” you said, your voice breaking. Topper’s heart softened. “I, uh, I just walked in on JJ and Kiara kissing.” Topper’s eyes widened. He may not have enjoyed his time around the Pogues, but even he knew how infatuated the two of you were with each other.

“What?” he asked, surprised. You laughed in self pity and shook your head, wiping your eyes once more.

“I never thought he’d cheat on me,” you replied. “He always talked about wanting to tell the truth and being loyal to his friends but he couldn’t extend that decency to me.”

Topper knew this feeling all too well. While his relationship with Sarah might’ve sprouted because of their parents’ expectations, he grew to like the girl more and more as each day passed and he felt as if Sarah felt the same. It wasn’t until a year prior that he learned about her infidelity, with John B. no less, and he felt as if his world was coming to a complete stop. The girl he was infatuated with had no problem running into the arms of someone he didn’t get along with, and Topper was sure his distaste for Pogues increased because of that.

“I know how you feel,” he said quietly. He averted your gaze when you looked at him in favor of looking at the ocean. “When Sarah cheated on me with John B., I just came to terms that I probably loved her.”

“It sucks, doesn’t it?” you asked rhetorically. Topper let out a breath.

“It does,” he said. “Deep down I know it’s wrong, but John B’s the reason I don’t like Pogues anymore.”

“C’mon, Topper. Did you ever like Pogues?” you joked. Upon hearing your voice sound less accusatory and more playful, Topper allowed himself to laugh. “Do you know why it’s frustrating, to me at least, when Kooks mess with Pogues?”

“No, I don’t,” Topper said genuinely.

“It’s because people make fun of us for what we were born with,” you explained. “I didn’t ask to be born to a family that has to work to live. It’s hard to live comfortably knowing people who have a lot of money make fun of me because I don’t. It’s not anybody’s fault for what they were born into. It just hurts a little.”

The boy, naive in his own right, felt oddly at peace with your confession. Internally, he knew he was privileged and saw the way Rafe would boast about his expenses and privileges, and he knew neither him nor Kelce would be as vocal about it as Rafe was. Still, his friends encouraged the unruly behaviour towards the Pogues and he never second guessed it. But hearing your confession, especially when you were trying to make your voice steady and catch your breath from previously crying, made him think about all the times he’d wanted to tell Rafe to leave the Pogues alone.

“I’m sorry,” Topper apologized sincerely. “For whatever it’s worth.”

You smiled, the corners of your mouth curving into a small smile that didn’t go unnoticed by Topper. He bit his cheek, trying not to show how proud he was of himself for brightening your mood, even if it was by a short stretch. The both of you let a comfortable silence settle in, the sound of laughter below you while the sky remained bright and sunny.

“Hey,” Topper began, looking at you. You turn towards him and he sees that you aren’t crying anymore. “Do you want to, I don’t know, hang out sometime?”

“Topper, if this is your way of asking me out--”

“No!” he said abruptly, clearing his throat. “I just mean that, if you want a friend, I’m here for you.”

“Really?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “I mean it. No games, nothing.”

“Thanks,” you said, moving your hair behind your ear. Topper pulled out his phone and asked you to put your phone number in his contacts, sending you a text message to make sure you had his number. You were aware of the risk you were taking, and how you might end up being the laughing stock of the Figure Eight residents, but at this moment, you didn’t care.

It’d been a little less than a week since you fled the Chateau and Topper had found you on the rock. And since then, you felt happier. No more friends pushing you out of their life or cheating boyfriends. While you would’ve never thought you’d be friends with Kooks, especially the likes of Rafe Cameron, you liked it. You had to say you almost liked them better. The boys were outrageous in the best way and after you got used to being with them, it felt so easy to slip into old habits of trusting people with your delicate feelings.

When Topper had initially introduced you to Kelce and Topper, Kelce was less reluctant to “initiate” you into their friend group compared to Rafe. The boy, ignorant in his own right, wasn’t afraid of hiding his distaste for you because you were a Pogue.

“Rafe, you never have anything important to say so I suggest you think before you speak or shut up altogether.”

Rafe shut his mouth when you spoke as you eyed him down. Kelce and Topper were laughing behind you as Rafe’s cheeks turned red with a blush, embarrassed to have been caught being called out. Begrudgingly, Rafe welcomed you onto his boat and spent the next four hours getting to know you and decided that he was wrong about the kind of person you were. With a little time and convincing, Rafe had promised to never mess with the Pogues or make fun of them for being one, and you found yourself considering Rafe as one of your best friends just as he considered you the same.

The sun was beating on your back, the water sliding down your skin cooling you off as you returned from a dip in Rafe’s pool. You hum, leaning back in your pool side chair, the cold glass of lemonade spiked with whatever alcohol Kelce got his hands on pressed against your cheek as you tried to battle the heat.

“You good there, Princess?” Rafe called out from across the pool as he emerged from the sliding glass doors with a newly opened beer in his hand.

“It’s too hot,” you complained.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Kelce said, laughing as he jumped into the pool.

“Show off,” you muttered at his near perfect dive.

“Okay, be honest,” Topper piped, looking at you while tipping his beer in your direction. “I’m pretty sure the Pogues think we all have a thing for you, so, if you had to fuck someone, who would it be?��

“Is that even a question? Rafe, in a heartbeat.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Rafe said, sliding his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to wink at you,

“Please don’t fuck in front of me,” Topper said, sighing as he closed his eyes.

“Why would you say that?” you said coyly, enjoying his reaction. “We’d never.”

“She’s too smart for her own good,” Kelce said, joining the three of you by the pool chairs.

“Not to be too cheesy, or anything,” you began.

“Uh-oh,” said Rafe. “She’s about to get cheesy.”

“Shut up, idiot,” you muttered. “As I was saying.”

“As you were saying,” Kelce repeated. You gave him the finger.

“As I was saying,” you repeated, “I know all of you know what happened between me and the Pogues and I’m really happy that I found you guys as friends. I never feel pressured to do anything when I’m with you guys and I appreciate that you let me have a life outside of this friendship.”

“Pogues are bitches,” Rafe said. You gave him a look. “For what they did to you.”

“And you didn’t deserve to be cheated on,” Topper said. You pouted, putting your hands over your heart as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Guys, I'm going to cry,” you teased, pretending to wipe tears from underneath your eyes.

The rest of the afternoon was spent by the pool before moving to Rafe’s living room to watch an endless amount of movies, forgetting that the world outside existed.

The beach wasn’t as busy as usual despite the warm weather. You and the three boys decided to head to the water after they agreed to learn how to surf upon your insistence and neither of them could deny your kind smile when your lips pouted and your eyes widened.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Kelce said, falling on his beach towel after trying his hand at surfing. You walked behind him, laughing as you watched his body lay limp on the towel. Rafe and Topper had given up not too long ago, opting to sit on the sand and dry, tanning in the sun while taking videos of Kelce trying to surf for the first time. Your skin felt cool from the ocean water and you motioned for Topper to hand you your water bottle. Rafe squinted as he watched you gulp from the spout, his sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“How are you so fucking good at surfing?” he asked.

“Been doing it since I could swim,” you said with a shrug, tossing the water bottle in your tote bag.

“Damn,” Kelce muttered.

“Is that JJ?” Topper asked nonchalantly, looking in the distance. You turned to where his gaze was and tensed your jaw when you saw JJ, accompanied by your former friends, kicking a soccer ball not too far from where you and the Kooks sat.

“I don’t want to think about it or talk to them,” you said, groaning as you situated yourself on your beach towel. You brought your knees to your chest and put your sunglasses on, trying to make yourself seem smaller than you were.

“It’s okay,” Rafe said. “We can fight them if you want us to.”

“No,” you interjected, knowing Rafe was kidding, but you knew he’d do it if you asked. “You don’t need to do that. We’re all adults here.”

“Except Rafe,” said Kelce. You chuckled, your mind temporarily distracted from the Pogues.

You caught Kiara’s eye and turned around before she could say or do anything else, opting to keep yourself busy by straightening your beach towel. Topper and Kelce tried to distract themselves by talking to one another and Rafe, knowing how you felt about your former friends, glared at them from behind his sunglasses.

“Are you serious?” you heard JJ say from a distance. You looked up and saw him scoff as he dropped his beach towel on the floor and walked to you, seeing you surrounded by three of his least favorite people. “You’re hanging out with Kooks now?”

“What’s it to you?” Rafe asked nonchalantly with a hint of annoyance. JJ looked beside you, where Rafe was sitting, and scoffed.

“You let him speak for you now?”

“I don’t need to explain anything to you,” you replied calmly.

“So you decided to go ‘full kook’ and abandon your friends and, what, are you and Rafe fucking?”

You looked at him from where you sat and gave him an incredulous look, standing up from where you sat and faced him. You crossed your arms across your chest as you thought how ironic it was for him to be complaining about the company you kept when you caught him cheating on you not too long ago.

“You don’t get to ask me that when you cheated on me with Kiara,” you said aloud, gesturing at the other three Pogues walked tentatively towards the both of you, careful to keep their distance as you spoke.

“And you chose to be friends with them?” JJ asked.

“Listen,” you said. “All of you have been friends way longer than I’ve been friends with you and for the past few months, all of you have been acting like I’m not even there.”

“We didn’t--”

“You did, JJ,” you said, snapping your fingers in front of his face to acquire his attention. “You pulled away from me with no explanation and got annoyed every time I would ask if you were okay. You never bothered to call or text me anymore and ignored me whenever we were together, JJ.”

“So you’re ditching your friends for some Kooks?” John B. asked.

“I haven’t felt like I was one of your friends and every time I wanted to talk about it, all of you shut me out. I know you’ve all been hanging out without me and I’m pretty sure you guys knew JJ and Kiara were messing with each other too.”

“But we’re your friends,” Pope pleaded. He looked back and forth between you and the boys who were sitting next to you.

“Well now she’s found other friends,” Kelce spoke. “Maybe she’s allowed to have other friends.”

“Not with dipshits like you,” JJ spat.

“I’m allowed to have other friends,” you said. “With you guys, I felt like I couldn’t be friends with anyone else because all we did was hang out with each other. I never felt like I could do anything if it wasn’t with any of you.”

“Y/N,” Kiara began, “we didn’t--”

“You don’t get to talk to me and beg for my friendship,” you directed at Kiara. “You don’t get to tell me what a good friend is when you were fucking around with JJ behind my back. You kissed my boyfriend. It’s always about ‘family’ with all of you until you feel like something’s threatening that. All of you are so dependent on each other that you can’t accept when somebody wants to have a life of their own. None of you have been my friend for the past few months and, quite frankly, I’m done being treated like a rag doll.”

“And the Kooks are better?” JJ asked.

“They make me feel included,” you said. “I don’t feel like I have to choose. I can be my own person when I’m with them and none of them made me feel ashamed for wanting a life without them. So, yeah, the Kooks are better.”

Even the four teenagers standing in front of you had to admit they enjoyed how the three boys stopped messing with them like the previous summer and they hadn’t pieced it together until they saw you sitting with them at the beach.

“Neither of you,” you said, pointing between Kiara and JJ, “get to tell me how to feel. You made your beds, now lay in it.”

Hastily, you picked up your beach towel and paid no mind to the four pairs of eyes watching you leave. Topper, who noticed you neglected to pick up your bag, grabbed it for you as he beckoned for the other two boys to do the same. Neither Topper, Rafe, nor Kelce spared the Pogues another glance and, for once, it wasn’t because of their status; it was because they made you feel less than you were.

“You know we love you, right?” Topper asked, bumping your shoulder with his.

“I’m glad someone does,” you mumbled, rubbing your temple.

You left the beach without another word and sat in the passenger seat of Rafe’s car, not bothering to look at your former friends as you drove away. But you felt a newfound sense of peace as you sat in the passenger seat, watching as Rafe queued a playlist, Kelce giving you a gentle smile, and Topper patting your shoulder as a silence gesture of telling you he was proud of you. All would be okay.

***

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

DATING TXT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Huening Kai

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Kai definitely enjoys being able to tall frame to wrap his arms around you, he prefers to usually stand behind you so that he can lean past and look at your face and admire how wide your smile was or how red your cheeks were.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

The two of you met when shooting at TXT music video, you were busy filming, but that didn’t stop Kai spotting you and having his attention captured. He wasn’t sure what it was about watching you hard at work, but the dedication you put into creating the perfect video for the five of them was something he greatly appreciated.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

When it came to confessing to you, Kai was absolutely terrified. The two of you had gotten along well since the shoot, but he was terrified of risking all of that by telling you how he felt. He ended up telling you one evening, his behaviour had been strange all night long, eventually leaving you no choice but to beg him to start opening up to you. Only you didn’t exactly expect what the next thing he said to you was.

D ⇴ DATES

Kai isn’t someone with a lot of get up and go, and so usually the two of you will have lazy dates together. You’ll meet up at someone’s place, and spend your days watching movies or playing games, anything that didn’t require you being on your feet and having to spend time outside. Instead, you’d spend your dates laying side by side with one another, usually a bowl of snacks in between you both, typically of Kai’s choosing because he’s a lot pickier than you are when it comes to food.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

Being the youngest definitely meant he got a bit of stick for dating you, but that didn’t stop him turning to the older members and asking for their advice a lot. Kai wanted to do things right, whilst you were professional on set at all times during future shoots, he wanted to make sure that you could enjoy yourselves with one another when you weren’t working. The last thing he wanted to do was mess things up, so he’d ask the others for their feedback a lot and see what they suggested he was doing, either right or wrong.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Arguing was far from something that Kai enjoyed, in fact he usually tended to just stand around and take the hit when you were angry or frustrated with him or something else. He was a lot calmer of the two of you when it came to disagreements, he’d learnt to bite his tongue at the best of times anyway, but especially so around you. The last thing he wanted to do was raise his voice at you, and so usually wait until you reached a point when you were a little calmer to tell you his point of view and try and clear up any disagreements between the two of you like adults rather than turn it into a shouting match.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

His family is far from perfect, and so it definitely takes a while for Kai to open up fully to you about his relations. If there is one relation, he does tell you a lot about though, it’s his sisters. They’re his crutch, and he knows that if there’s anyone who will make you feel comfortable around his family, then it’s them.

H ⇴ HOME

Kai usually tended to spend a lot of time at your place so that the two of you could have some peace and quiet. On the days when he didn’t have work early the following morning, he’d stay over at yours, or at least try and stop by if he had a couple of hours before needing to head back to the dorm and the boys.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

He was convinced you were asleep, in fact he still refused to accept that you were awake when Kai was the first to say, ‘I love you.’ The words were uttered in barely a whisper, admiring your sleeping state, or so he thought. When your eyes fluttered open, he couldn’t quite believe it, instantly feeling his cheeks turn red.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

A lot of time Kai was teased as the youngest, and for having a partner too. He would definitely find himself getting a little jealous if you spent too much time around any of the other members but wouldn’t dare say anything to them as he knew he’d only get mocked. When he got you alone, then he’d open up a little more about how he was feeling and how agitated he was at how the others acted around you. He only ever wanted to protect you, even if he did trust the others to never push the boundaries too far.

K ⇴ KIDS

Before having kids, Kai wanted the security blanket of knowing he wouldn’t end up bringing his children up in an environment that he had to endure. It took a long time for him to even open up about his dream of having children, he didn’t want his feelings to scare you off from the idea, but he was also honest. The last thing he wanted to do was give his children the same experiences that he had to live through.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Time with Kai could usually be guaranteed to be one thing, absolutely chaotic. He was forever making you laugh with his weird antics or how clumsy he was. Similarly, he was a noisy guy, and so would usually have you laughing at the different noises that he made or the rubbish jokes that he tried to tell you. Kai loved to make you laugh and enjoyed that you felt comfortable enough around him to really be yourself. He loved to laugh around you too, half the time you didn’t even realise what exactly you were doing, but you’d still hear Kai by your side, chuckling away at whatever it was that you did.

M ⇴ MISSING

He’ll always try and be strong for you when he’s on the road, he won’t want to upset you further by letting you see how much he misses you or how hard he finds it being separated from you. Kai tends to close off from you, but for his members, things are the complete opposite. He’ll find himself opening up to them more when he’s on the road and away from you, relying on them to at least try and fill the gap that you left in his life. Whilst it never is quite the same, the other boys know what Kai wants from them, and so will try their best to fill that void as best as they can, even if it is never truly enough.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Kai is quite traditional with his nicknames for you, ‘jagi,’ will usually be the one that he prefers before any other. The meaning and the sentiment behind it are always expressed with a lot of love from him.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He’s obsessed with your hair, being taller, Kai loves to guide you with it and run his hands through it whenever he’s stood in front of you.

P ⇴ PDA

The priority whenever the two of you are in public is that you’re safe and secure, and Kai will definitely use his frame to reflect that. He’s not someone for grand gestures that might draw too much attention to yourselves, but he will always do enough to make sure that you’re happy and feel protected at his side.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

You usually have to ask Kai a lot of questions when you’re trying to convince him to listen to what you want to do. He’s hard to convince, but with enough questions and compromise, you eventually manage to wear him down.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

When he’s on stage, Kai will always have a little signal that he sends into the camera to let you know that he’s thinking of you. He can pick up on the camera most of the time, and when he does, he always makes sure to send a double wink into it. One for the fans, who he knows love it when he does this, but the second for you, to make sure that you know that wink is solely dedicated to you and no one else.

S ⇴ SEX

Kai is always incredibly affectionate with you when it comes to intimacy, whilst he’s not a strong dom, he certainly uses his height to control the situation a little more and attempt to take care of you. It usually makes him incredibly shy too, the feeling of being so close to you was never something that he got used to, even as months and years passed, he still used the time to remind himself how lucky he was.

T ⇴ TEXTS

You’ll receive texts quite often from Kai, reminding you that he cares and wants to know how your day is going. Whenever he gets a break, it becomes a habit to pick up his phone before anything else and check in with you.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

The two of you were partners in crime, you weren’t always the loudest couple in the room, but you were the couple that always captured everyone’s attention from how good you looked together and how sweet you were to one another.

V ⇴ VACATION

Kai had told you plenty of stories about his time in China, that there was nowhere else in the world you wanted to go when the chance to go on a trip came around. He couldn’t wait to show you so many of the places from his childhood and make even more memories in those places with you this time around.

W ⇴ WHINING

He definitely enjoys having your attention on him, and so if he wants you, and you’re not beside him, he’ll let you know just what he wants from you.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Kai’s favourite place to kiss on you is definitely the top of your head, he loves to emphasise the height difference between you both, however big or small it may be. He’ll love too when you have to go up on your tiptoes to reach a certain part on his body, there’s something about watching you stretch up and hold onto him for support, just for a kiss, that makes his heart happy and brings a smile to his face.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were the love of his life, even at the very first time at searching for it.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Whenever the two of you fell asleep, Kai always made a point of trying to be the big spoon and wrapping his arms around you. He loved to be close to you and make sure you were the one that felt safe in his strong hold.

---

Masterlist

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xofanfics · 3 years

Text

Without Warning - Part VI

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Reader x Mark ft. Doyoung

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: You and Doyoung had the best summer you could. Now that he’s hundreds of miles away in college, you have to go through senior year alone. You meet Mark at a time when Doyoung is making you feel like you’re single.

You heard that Doyoung was back in town when Phil mentioned that he was going to hang out with him after school. The thought of Doyoung being in the same city as you made you uncomfortable. Things had been going so well for you that you couldn’t stand the thought of potentially seeing him around town somewhere. After all, he was free to go to all of his favorite places. He didn’t have to stay at home just because you wanted to avoid seeing him.

Quite frankly, you wondered if you should be the one to stay home instead. It was Thanksgiving weekend and you knew that Doyoung’s brother was getting married on Saturday. You knew that there was the possibility of him having to run errands if not for Thanksgiving, for the wedding. He might have to get his suit altered, you thought, or maybe his mom would drag him all over town for last minute shoes or accessories and so on. The possibilities were endless and it made you uneasy.

It was the day before Thanksgiving and you had no idea how tomorrow was going to go. Of course, your mom was scheduled to work the evening shift at the hospital, getting off at midnight. So, knowing that, Mark invited you over to dinner at his house. It was the perfect arrangement; you only had to walk next door.

Your vibrating phone interrupted your thoughts. You smiled as you saw that it was Mark calling.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey, what are you up to?”

“Not much. I’ve just been laying on the bed scrolling through tiktok…”

“Would you…wanna come to the store with me?”

“Sure. I don’t have anything else to do. My mom left for work already so I’m bored.”

“Okay. Are you dressed?”

“Yeah. I’ll be outside in five.”

Mark didn’t know why but he was always excited to see you, even if he’d just seen you. His heart started beating faster whenever you entered the room. He liked you a lot and he wanted to be with you. You said that you wanted to take things slow but Mark wasn’t sure he knew what that entailed. He wondered if you were nervous. Was there a sort of unofficial timeline for how a relationship was supposed to start and end? Were there some rules that Mark hadn’t caught on to?

Mark just couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was holding you back from a relationship with him? From what he could see, you had no reasons to say no to him. Maybe you did have your reasons but you certainly didn’t communicate them to him. Wasn’t communication the most important part of a relationship?

Was there something you were holding back? Were you possibly seeing someone else? Mark was probably one of the people you felt closest to and it would be strange that he hadn’t caught on to something like that. But then again, he didn't spend every single waking hour with you. For all he knew, you could be seeing someone from outside of school. He didn’t feel like you were the type to talk to multiple guys being that you were just recovering from your last relationship. But was that it? Were you still not over him? He had no right to complain about it when he had no idea how hard it must’ve been for you. He had no idea what it was like to be in love and be betrayed by the one person who was supposed to love you through the good times and the bad. And, more importantly, he had no idea how long it took for the heart to heal itself.

Mark smiled when he saw you standing in the hallway, waiting for him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a hug. He smelled your favorite body spray as you pulled away.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

You nodded, holding his hand as he walked to his dad’s car.

“You can’t just knock on her door…”

Phil’s words stuck in Doyoung’s head and it was annoying. He knew that he couldn’t just go over to your apartment, knocking on the door with hope that you’d come out. But no one seemed to want to help him talk to you either. Phil said he was “staying out of it” and Doyoung supposed he couldn’t blame you for not wanting to get entangled in his problems. He’d just been hoping that he’d at least give him a hint as to what you were doing on Thanksgiving or on Friday or even on Saturday, after the wedding was over.

He sighed to himself as he looked out the passenger side window. His mom looked over at him and he could feel her eyes on him. She knew that not being able to talk to you was bothering him but she couldn’t find the right words to say as a mother. Of course, she would never encourage her son to stalk a woman or fight to contact a woman who didn’t want to be contacted. That kind of behavior would only push you away in the end, she thought.

“I know you’re feeling stressed about Y/N,” she started, “and it’s okay to feel that you made a mistake but there’s no sense in dwelling on it and beating yourself up. There’s this saying: don’t cry over spilled milk. If it’s meant for the two of you to reconnect, it’ll happen. But it’ll happen naturally. It won’t happen just because you want it to or because you think it’s what you need. It’ll happen if it’s meant to.” She pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, turning the car off. Doyoung had many thoughts and he even wanted to respond to his mom, but he couldn’t find words. “I know you just think I’m this old lady who doesn’t know what she’s talking about but at least consider my words...”

Doyoung chuckled. “You’re not just some old lady, Mom.” He smiled and said, “I do value your opinion...Thank you.”

Mark grabbed a shopping cart as you scrolled through the grocery list in your notes app. Eggs, whatever yams they have, carrots, onions, spinach, sweet potato noodles, fish cakes, radish… As Mark walked toward you with the cart, you said, “Did your mom go shopping before this?”

Mark rolled his eyes. “She’s been to the store twice this week and she somehow still hasn’t gotten everything she needs.”

“What’s she making?”

“I know she’s making japchae. I know you love her japchae by the way you almost ate it all at lunch the other day.”

You nudged him, “You calling me greedy?”

“No,” he said. “I’ll just know for next time to pack a little extra for you to have some.”

You smiled a wide toothy smile and wrapped your arms around his waist. “You’re so sweet…”

Mark looked down at you, giving you a quick peck on your lips. “And you’re so cute.”

You smiled and continued down the aisle of the international food market. The two of you got the majority of the groceries within the first ten minutes before Mark pulled away from you to go to the butcher. While he went to the butcher, you went to the snack aisle. As you picked through the packs of ramen to figure out which ones you wanted to get for at home, you heard a familiar voice from behind you.

“Y/N?” You whipped your head around to find Doyoung’s mom coming down the aisle.

“Oh,” you said, “hi. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. What about you? How is senior year going?”

“It’s going great. Um, you know, just waiting to hear back from schools.”

“That’s great to hear.”

And almost like clockwork, Doyoung showed up in the aisle. “I couldn’t find that brand you like for the hoddeok so I-” He stopped in his tracks as his eyes landed on you. You almost cursed under your breath. With your luck, of course you’d run into your ex-boyfriend at a time like this. Doyoung was the very last person on the list of people you would want to see today. And what was worse was that you were trying to move on with Mark and here came your ex-boyfriend to ruin your day and your mood.

“Y/N…” he said.

You grit your teeth as Doyoung’s mom got the hint. “It’s okay, I’ll find it,” she said, pushing the cart away from you and her son until she was out of the aisle. You were left alone with Doyoung in the aisle.

You looked in both directions as Doyoung walked closer to you, prepared to go literally anywhere but right here.

“Y/N, please don’t leave like this. Can we just...talk? Please?”

You let out a deep sigh, all the uncomfortable tension in your body escaping. But it didn’t help much. “I don’t have anything to say to you, Doyoung. I know I called you that time when I was drunk but it was a mistake, okay?”

You started walking toward the butcher, to Mark, to the boy that actually cared about you, the one who made your heart melt at a simple touch, the one who made you feel better on your worst days. And he looked toward you, as his eyes landed on Doyoung’s hand grabbing onto your arm. Seeing you in distress, he left the cart and the butcher who’d just cut up some beef ribs for him. After all, you couldn’t be sure if Mark even knew what your ex boyfriend looked like. You deleted most traces of him off of your social media accounts.

“Y/N, come on. I’m sorry about everything that happened between us and I just want to make things right,” he said, his hands wrapped around your arm.

Mark rushed over to your side, looking from you to Doyoung and back to you again. “Let her go, man.”

Doyoung scoffed, removing his hand from your arm. “Wow. I know it’s been a couple months, but I didn’t think you’d be in another relationship already...I guess ours didn’t mean much to you.”

His comments made you angry. Of course the relationship you’d had with him at the time meant something to you. At the time, it meant everything to you. He was the one who’s decided to ignore you as soon as he touched down on his college campus. He was the one who ruined things and now he was here, with the audacity to say something like this to you.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you said, shooting him a glare.

“Good to know,” he said, glaring back.

You turned on your heel before grabbing—more like yanking—Mark by the arm and dragging him away from your ex and back to the butcher.

Mark’s heart throbbed, thumping in his chest with disappointment, sadness, and anger as you helped him out the groceries away back at his house. He didn’t know what to think. He wanted to say something but he couldn’t think of anything that made sense. Mark knew that you weren’t official but he thought that the two of you had something special. To hear you say that he wasn’t your boyfriend hurt but, then again, the two of you didn’t have a label. What could you call it?

“This is my friend.”

“This is more than my friend.”

“We’re friends with benefits but we haven’t actually had sex.”

“We’re kind of dating but kind of not really.”

Mark didn’t know how he would even begin to explain what he was to you. But, given your interaction with the man who was clearly your ex, he mustn’t have meant much to you for you to throw him under the bus like that. He felt hurt and a little betrayed. Was he wrong for going after you when you’d barely gotten over your ex? Should he have waited? Were you truly over him? Was your ex the reason you put this invisible wall up? Were you waiting for him? Was Mark being used as a placeholder?

Mark liked you a lot and hearing those words hurt him. You were standing next to him and for the first time, he didn’t want to be. If he was being honest, he didn’t want you here. He didn’t want you to meet his family for Thanksgiving. Maybe these feelings were temporary but, as of now, he didn’t want anything to do with you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, putting your hand on his shoulder. “You look stressed…”

“It’s nothing,” said Mark.

You sighed. “Is this because we saw Doyoung?”

Mark didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to be vulnerable right now but he also knew that it was better to talk about it now than to take his anger out on you. Mark glanced at his mother sitting on the living room couch, on the phone with his aunt and said, “Let’s talk in my room…”

You followed him into his room, not sure of why you needed to go out of the way to talk about this. You shut the door behind you and turned to face Mark.

He said, “Do you still have feelings for him?”

You flinched, completely taken aback by the question. “Why would you ask that? I like you…”

“That doesn’t answer my question, though…”

You didn’t say anything. You hadn’t given it much thought, to be honest. Did you still have feelings for him? Seeing him today made you feel a bit uneasy and it brought back a truckload of feelings you hadn’t exactly resolved. Honestly, you hadn’t dealt with the breakup in the healthiest way. You cut him out without having a chance to process your feelings or reflect, and without talking things out with Doyoung—not that you had to speak to him but there was never really any closure. You broke up with him and blocked him on everything and that was that.

You were silent, Mark noticed, and you wouldn’t meet his eye. You keep looking at the carpet as if you would find an answer there. Mark was angry and he was hurt. Maybe you’d say something, anything. He just needed to hear your voice...saying something. You’d seen your ex, someone you had a history with, someone you were with for two years. Hell, how could he compete with that?

“Fine,” he said, “I guess you don’t have to answer that. You don’t owe me anything.”

Mark started to wonder if he set himself up for failure. Had he bitten off more than he could possibly chew? Mark sat on his bed, his back to you. A minute passed and he knew that you hadn’t left. You must’ve been contemplating what to say and it was killing him because he already knew the answer to his own question. You had leftover feelings for your ex and what made him upset is that you wouldn’t even admit it to him—to him, of all people. Did you not trust him?

Mark had accepted that the cat had gotten your tongue. He turned to the side, not quite fully facing you. But he could see you in his peripheral vision. His eyes were starting to get watery, a rush of emotions taking over him. “I know I’m not your boyfriend but I didn’t think I meant that little to you...that you had to go out of your way to let your ex boyfriend know that you’re still single. I can’t help but feel like I’m just on the back burner...”

You sat next to him and he could see that there were tears in your eyes, too. “It’s not like that, Mark. I promise. What I had with Doyoung doesn’t matter anymore...”

“How can you say that? There’s fucking history, Y/N! You were together for two years. How can I compete with someone who knows damn near everything there is to know about you? I mean, what’s the real reason you said no to a relationship with me? Am I just a placeholder until he comes back to you?”

Mark brought his knees up to his chest and put his face there, finally allowing himself to let out all the frustration he felt building up inside. Mark didn’t want to be crying in front of you right now but he felt completely vulnerable and helpless in front of you right now.

You put your hand on his back, rubbing it in circles. “I’m sorry, Mark...I really do like you and I do want to be with you. I’m just afraid to get hurt again...and I don’t want to hurt you either. I guess I didn’t deal with the relationship ending and I should’ve done that…” You sighed as Mark started letting up. “What I had with Doyoung is over and I want to start something new with you. I like you a lot, Mark. And I’m sorry about how I acted in the store. I was angry and acting like a kid. I didn’t like how I acted and I’m sorry I dragged you into it.”

Mark wiped his tears and nodded to himself, still not meeting your eyes no matter how hard you stared at him.

“And, um,” you said, voice cracking, “if you don’t want to talk anymore, I’ll understand.”

You stood up, feeling your heart break into a million pieces. Mark was quiet, so that must’ve meant that you completely blew it. It was crazy how quickly things could escalate. It was crazy how things could fall apart so quickly. Had you ruined everything you had? The thought of losing something good was unbearable. Tears started falling and your lip started quivering. But then something in you broke.

Mark stood up and took your hand in his. “Of course I want to talk to you, Y/N...My feelings for you haven’t changed. I know you’re not perfect and I won’t ever tell you what to do or how to feel.” You turned around to face him, tears still in your eyes. Both your faces were stained with tears. Mark reached over on his nightstand, grabbing a tissue. He wiped your tears with it, blotting your face and your eyes gently.

“I thought you wouldn’t want me anymore…”

“I was just frustrated...”

“Are you still frustrated?”

“A little bit but I think we could both use a little space for today, don’t you think?”

He pulled you into his arms and you rested your head on his chest. You felt safe, here in Mark’s arms, as you listened to his heartbeat. Even though there had been some turbulence in your relationship with him, you were full of relief that it wasn’t all over. You felt like Mark was something that was going right in your life and the thought of losing him was scary.

***

Taglist:

@wanlore @lunakua

General Taglist

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @sweetnspicy-noona

#nctwriters #nct fluff #nct angst #nct smut #mark fluff #mark angst #mark smut #mark imagine #kpop fluff #kpop angst #kpop smut #kpop reactions #kpop imagines

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adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy · 4 years

Text

you’re someone i just want around: V

“I must admit, I thought I’d like to make you mine

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

— Only Angel, Harry Styles

A/N: this chapter...it was probably my fav to write, so far!!! i just adore these two clueless morons so much like i just can’t shut up about them. quite a bit happens in this part and it’s all to build that slow burn, friends to lovers shit we all know and love baYBEEEEE!!! and also The Crew make an appearance because hello we love to see it, we truly do 😌😌😌 especially the man, the myth, the legend, Mitch Rowland and honestly?? this is HIS chapter fuck vampirerry!!! but yeah i hope y’all like what’s in store for the Dynamic Duo this time around and remember that feedback is truly, madly, deeply™ appreciated! and if you enjoy it, please reblog it! spreading content keep creators motivated! without further delay, let’s dive in 😼

harry’s condo : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist

word count: 34k

content/warnings: witty banter, some nice fluff, jacuzzi sex, more fluff, a very testing phone call, some face f*cking, a soft shower, rough degradation, the return of The Handcuffs, an unexpected visit from The Three Stooges, more cheeky banter because that’s their brand, and the reveal of jealous asshole Harry

///

Y/N giddly accepts Harry’s offer to stay the weekend and the vampire can confidently say it’s one of the best he’s had in the last decade.

He’d startled even himself when the suggestion had risen abruptly from his mouth, leaving him blinking blankly as a result. He rarely allows anyone to spend more than a day in his condo— his friends being the only exception— because he’s grown to like the quiet solitude that comes with living on his own. He very solemnly has people over whom he hasn’t known for at least a few years, and that rule is reinforced on stricter grounds when it comes to humans. Especially when the only true connection they could possibly carry to him is through the area between their legs.

But Harry has become strangely fond of Y/N in the last four weeks— fond enough to freely refer to her as a friend and endeared enough to bypass the fact that she’s mortal. She just looks so unbelievably cute padding around his apartment barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of crumpled, sunflower-doodled panties and his Nike olive green jumper, her hair a mangled mess with traces of his cologne smeared across the bruised skin of her neck. Admittedly, it’s a sight he wants to see more often, which is a stab at his ego because he’s never been one to dwell on sentimentality— not for a while. It’s a bit cliche and gross, in his opinion, but when it comes to this one particular girl...well, maybe it’s not too bad. Indulging some soft pastimes can't do much damage, especially when it aids his plan to keep her interested until he himself grows bored.

It can only do good, which is probably what had spurred him into asking her to extend her stay. For once, he found himself not craving his usual silent seclusion. Not when that self-imposed isolation could be filled with her loud laughter, warm lips, and sweet moans instead.

And much to his satisfaction, Harry gets just that.

For the next two days, the creature gets all of his needs and wants attended to, both recreational and intimate. Y/N seems to enjoy it thoroughly, as well, walking— or rather waddling, really, thanks to some of their raunchier activities— around his flat happily, constantly clad in a pair of his boxers and one of his graphic tees. He gets off on it— it’s hard not to, especially with the way she fits his clothes so effortlessly, almost as if she was made to fill them. Or the way the scent of his shampoo is combed through every strand of her hair, his smell slathered all over her as if she’s unconsciously trying to mark herself as his. Or the way new love bites cover the ones his blood had nearly faded, which she dotes shamelessly by pushing all her hair behind her shoulders so Harry can get a perfect view of every welt he’s left behind on her throat. Or the way she unapologetically giggles at all his jokes and crude humor, and how she paddles his witty banter right back at him with that clever gleam in her irises.

He gets off on the way Y/N cuddles into him on the couch while they’re watching some mindless Food Network series, her body heat expelling the stiff coldness from his limbs. The way she kisses tenderly along the underside of his jaw, forefinger tracing over his Adam’s Apple teasingly, a smile spreading against his skin when she feels it bob heavily. The way she’ll sneak her hand between his thighs and palm him over his briefs, taking the shell of his ear between her teeth and hissing lowly when his cock twitches against her fingers, her voice soft as silk but heavy with dirty intentions. “Want to make you feel good again, H. Can I?”

The human girl is a blessing, while simultaneously being a walking, talking sin, and the monster’s never been more willing to damn himself to Hell. And he would gladly do it, if he wasn’t already living it in the form of blood-driven eternity.

It’s an eventful weekend, that’s for sure, and despite the fact that they share an abundance of memorable moments, there are a few that Harry deems especially unforgettable.

The jacuzzi sex sits at the top of that list.

Y/N had practically squealed when she’d laid eyes on the glorified tub in his bathroom, pacing over to it excitedly and leaning down to run her fingers over the control panel along the rim. Her voice had come out whispered, full of child-like wonder. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Harry had walked over to stand beside her, his icy digits pressing on top of her warm own, finagling the buttons into his preferred settings. Hot water begins to shoot out of all the polished jets one by one, slowly filling the pool and covering the dark marble wrap-around ledge used as seating. The vampire quickly fetches the bag of lavender Epsom salts he keeps close by, scooping a couple handfuls into the frothing hot tub, along with pouring in a decent amount of jasmine bubble bath.

His lips jolt when he catches Y/N eyeing the jacuzzi in awe, her hands clasped to her chest in delight as she teeters back and forth ever so slightly on her heels. The water shuts off once it reaches the appropriate level, leaving behind a thick, luxurious sheet of suds that smells of sugary florals and clean linen. The second the jets retract, Harry doesn’t even have time to make a comment before Y/N begins stripping down hurriedly, obviously restless to take on this new experience.

Harry spontaneously jerks to the side out of habit, averting his sight to allow her some privacy. His tone is soft and amused. “Clean towels are in the hamper along the other side of the tub.” He signals blindly towards where he knows the basket is situated. “Call me back in when you need help with the shower knobs. And don’t—”

The immortal spots something streak across his peripheral vision, cocking his head a bit just in time to see her flower-print panties toss onto the tiled floor. He rolls his eyes playfully, scoffing to himself at the innocence of the article. It matches her persona perfectly.

He hears a splash crack through the air behind him, meaning that Y/N has submerged herself in the water and that it is now safe for him to turn around without threatening her decency. However, he doesn’t think she’d mind if he did and he finds himself wondering why he’d looked away in the first place. The answer comes to him simply: it was a residual mannerism from the era he was raised in. His default Victorian etiquette can be so fucking annoying sometimes.

He spins around on his socked heels, lean arms folding casually across his broad chest, naked tattoos glinting under the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. He slinks his head to the side, entertained at the view he finds. Y/N is sitting amidst the blanket of pink bubbles, covered up to her shoulders as she cups soap into her palms, blowing at it and watching the suds float across the air before popping. The adorable smile that breaks across her face makes Harry’s stomach flutter.

The vampire steps forward to catch her attention, leaning a hip against the edge of the tub and pursing his lips to hide an adoring grin. The corners of his mouth betray him as soon as Y/N looks up at him, hair slicked back with water and bubbles, matted to the sides of her neck and across her jaw as she beams up at him.

“Your place is literally an adult playground.” The human states wistfully, her arms floating across the surface of the bath as she drifts closer to him, creating more suds. “You’re gonna have to get me kicked out tomorrow ‘cause I’m not leaving on my own.”

Harry snorts, ducking down and wiping some soap off the tips of her eyelashes. “I don’t think security detail was part of the lease, so I might have to do it myself.”

“I can easily take you.” Y/N remarks jokingly, waving a hand dismissively. “Better make some space, I’m moving in next week.”

“I’d say I would start clearing out my storage room for you,” Harry leans forward, ghosting his lips over hers and thumbing over the curve of her chin, batting his lashes sultrily, “but I think we both know you’d end up in my bed either way. Best leave it as is.”

“Yeah,” Y/N momentarily glimpses down at his mouth, eyes glitzing with the slightest bit of hunger, “I think it's best if we just split the bed.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely split the bed— split it right down the middle.” Harry grips her jaw firmly and locks her into a wet, sloppy kiss for a few elongated heartbeats, tugging at her bottom lip and biting it jestingly before pulling back.

Y/N chases after him, craving more of his taste, but the boy draws back fully and pats at her cheek with smug finality. Her begrudging pout makes him release a boyish giggle. “Anyways, as I was saying before, my last rule: Don’t pee in the tub. Cleaning it is a bitch and that’s the last thing I want to deal with.”

The mortal laughs airily, nodding her head in confirmation that she understands. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

“Thank you.” Her friend huffs, shoulders slumping dramatically in relief. Harry takes on a theatrical ominous edge, quirking his brows warningly. “Didn’t end well for the last person who did.”

“Is that so?” Y/N inquires daringly, lowering herself deeper into the water until it covers her chin. “What happened? Did you have to take on the role of executioner again?”

Harry thinks back to that instance, shaking his head in amusement at the memory. It had been Niall— anything that has to do with testing his patience almost always leads to Niall— and to make a long story short, the Irish bloke had ended up having to regrow an ear. But he can’t necessarily confess that supernatural event to Y/N, no matter how funny it is, so he just shrugs offhandedly and gives her a dark look full of faux mystery, voice adopting the same affect. “I’ve already said too much.”

The young woman casts her eyes up to the ceiling humorously. “Moron.”

“Watch it, love.” Harry tuts, narrowing his eyes at her pointedly in an attempt to suppress the smirk that is about to stem from his next comment. “I’m not the one with the degradation kink here.”

Y/N scrunches her face at him mockingly, trying to hide the way his quip had made her heart hiccup. She mimics his accent, sticking up her middle finger from beneath a mountain of rosy bubbles. “Piss off.”

“Gladly.” Harry bites back cheekily in an American accent. He leans down, retrieving his Nike sweater and her underwear from the rumpled pile on the ground, his intentions set on taking them across the hall to the laundry room with the rest of her clothes. That way, her stuff will be nice and clean for when she needs it again Sunday night. “Just call if you need me, yeah?”

Harry gets about three feet towards the door before Y/N’s soft voice halts him, piping up as gentle and timid as usual. “Wait…”

The vampire glances over his shoulder, eyebrows poised in question as he absentmindedly flips his jumper inside-out in anticipation for the wash.

Y/N swims across the extent of the jacuzzi until she’s right in front of where he’d stopped, resting her forearms along the rim and plopping her chin atop her folded hands. She gazes up at Harry through her lashes and he can see the manner in which she shifts her footing beneath the small waves, almost as preparing to stand up from the water. “Don’t go.”

Harry’s eyes go half-lidded in a flat expression as he hangs his sweatshirt over the inside of his elbow. “Didn’t you literally just tell me to piss off five seconds ago?”

“I changed my mind.”

“Well, that’s just too bad. You already hurt my feelings. No take-backs.”

“Idiot.”

“Try again.”

“What’s that one insult British people say? Oh, yeah! Knobhead.”

“You’re really not helping your case here.”

Y/N sighs in exasperation, using her palms to boost herself up until she’s standing fully inside the hot tub. Water cascades down her shoulders and out of her sopping hair, following the curves of her bare torso and trickling across her jaw. She teeters forward until her face is only a few inches away from Harry’s, lulling her head to the side expectantly with a certain slyness swirling around her pupils. She chews on her lower lip as she gives him a suggestive once-over. “How about now? Does this help my case?”

Harry keeps his eyes pinned to her own, refusing to submit to temptation. He knows exactly what she’s trying to do, and he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of allowing it to work. Not yet, at least. He wants her to beg for it.

The creature twists towards her entirely, irises bright with the excitement of a new challenge. Even with the slight elevation the jacuzzi provides, Harry still towers over Y/N at least a good four inches. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough that she has to tilt her chin up to maintain direct eye contact. The tip of his cold nose brushes over hers, eyebrows shrugging tauntingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, darling.”

Y/N reaches forward without breaking their stares, taking the clothes from Harry’s grasp and haphazardly chucking them onto the towel hamper. Now with his arms free, the immortal props his hands onto his hips, his biceps and shoulders flexing with the motions. He’s peacocking to try and intimate her, and in any other circumstance, it would probably work, but Y/N knows she has the upper-hand at the moment; she’s naked and wet and docile, and with the way Harry’s handsome features are hardening in determination, she can tell she’s whittling him down. All it would take is one well-coordinated touch here, a lingering stroke there, and maybe a gentle caress of her lips down the valley of his pectorals…

Y/N goes for something better. She reaches upwards to intertwine her fingers around the nape of Harry’s neck, tugging him closer until their chests meld together, the heat from the water radiating off her waxy skin and sinking into his freezing own. His breathing catches as soon as he feels her pert nipples press into his chest and even though he’s keeping his sight trained on her face, he can just barely see the curves of her breasts less than a foot below. Their close proximity is making them swell upwards, urging him to give in and have his way with her however he wants. And fuck, does he want to. But he’s not going to let her bait him that easily— who would he be if he allowed this human girl to toy with him in such a fashion? Harry never lets anyone puppet him— not anymore, not ever again— and especially not when it comes to sex, which is one of his most skilled domains. He certainly isn’t going to let her win.

Harry grabs Y/N’s wrists from where they are perched around his neck, giving her a hard look that lets her know who’s in charge of the situation. He brings her hands up before her face, flipping them over so she gets a proper view of the faint bruising that lines her flesh, leftover from the previous evening’s restraints. When he speaks, it’s low and throaty with a condescending undercurrent. “Remember what happened last time you acted like a brat?”

Images flash by the forefront of Y/N’s mind like a film on fast-forward, recalling the night to which Harry is referring. The young man had tied her to her headboard and fingered her until she was left a teary mess, refusing to let her orgasm each time she got close. Then, he had tossed the girl onto her tummy and rammed into her from behind until her aged bedframe had nearly splintered. If she focuses intently enough, she can still feel the satisfying ache he had left behind, which had haunted her for days afterwards.

The mortal swallows heavily, nodding her head a tad.

Harry raises an eyebrow with an awaiting air. “Remember what I said about using your words?”

Y/N bobs her head again quickly. After a moment, she realizes her repeated mistake, clearing her throat softly in order to fix it. “Yes.”

“Good.” The vampire drops her hands, coasting his palms up her neck to cup either sides of her jaw, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones almost tenderly. “Now let me ask you again. Do you remember what happened last time you acted like a little brat?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Do you want a repeat of that?”

“No, I—” Y/N pauses in hindsight, retracting her previous statement. “Well, actually…”

Harry’s ruby lips string into a coy smirk at her response, well acquainted with where her thoughts are leading. He presses their foreheads together, the damp stickiness of her warm flesh sending a shiver toppling down his spine. “Let me guess. You want a repeat of the part where I shoved your face into a pillow and fucked you until you squirted all over me?”

He can feel blood surge into her cheeks beneath his fingertips as a result of his vulgar words. “Yes, please.”

Harry gnaws along the inside of his cheek as he recalls that event. He can practically feel her gushing around his cock all over again, her walls tightening around him as her whole body trembled in his grasp, her shattered whimpers stinging his ears as he continued to slam into her until she’d completely drenched both of their thighs. His eyelids fall shut in dreamy recollection and an image skims by of his initial rings marked across her ass; it nearly sends his knees out from under him. “Fuck, that was so hot, wasn’t it?”

“So fucking hot.” Y/N sighs shakily, lashes fluttering as his warm breath washes across her tingling mouth. “Harry, I just...I just want to ride you so fucking bad right now.”

“Yeah? Is that what you want?” Harry touches over her quivering bottom lip, somehow managing to feel her pulse. It’s battering so hard, he could probably sense it through any spot on her body, at this point. “You want me to sit in there with you just so you can bounce on my cock, baby?”

“Please…” Y/N sounds as if she’s on the verge of crying, all of her desperate need translating into her wrecked voice. Her next phrase is something she doesn’t think she’s ever spoken before, but the intensity of the moment just feels so right to test it out, and Harry feels like the right person to test it with. After another heavy gulp and a lick at her dry lips, she chimes up once again, bashful and pliant. “Please, Daddy?”

The sound of a sharp inhale echoes off the marble and porcelain walls of the bathroom, stemming from Harry’s garbled throat. It feels like the temperature in the atmosphere has gone up twenty degrees, invisible flames lapping across the muscles of his taut back and across the tendons of his tight shoulders. His entire body seems to go into shock, lungs stuttering and stomach hollowing out. His lashes snap shut without a heartbeat to spare, webs of black veins materializing over the whites of his eyes as a reaction to Y/N’s brazen comment.

He has been indulging fantasies of her calling him that specific name for weeks now, but had never asked out of respect for her boundaries. He figured that if she had an affinity for it, it would eventually make its way out of her mouth during one of their sessions, and he had been willing to be patient enough to wait. It had paid off, it seems.

Harry releases his grip on the girl’s face, reaching down to messily shove his black briefs down his clammy thighs, eyes flickering open now that he has forced some control into his demeanor. He sets his intent on her expression, the jade of his irises bleeding lust as he catches her gawking at him. Y/N gazes down at where he’s occupied, her lips parting slightly with starved awe as his underwear falls away to pool at his feet, revealing the part of him she has grown so addicted to in the last month. It looks so pretty, with a neatly trimmed pubic area, thick girth, and pleasurable length. She never knew cocks could be appealing, considering she always found their appearance so odd and irrelevant. That is, until Harry. It appears she thought a lot of sexual things irrelevant until Harry.

He kicks away his clothes, nudging at her boiling cheeks with his nose to garner attention, his tone low and inexplicably strained. “Say it again.”

Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against his heaving chest as she gathers her bearings, shuddering with a difficult exhale. She says it a bit louder this time, but still inherently weak, almost as if she’s scared their shadows might overhear. “Please, Daddy?”

Harry’s brows furrow with puncurting desire, a broken groan stirring deep in his lungs. “God, that sounds so good coming from your mouth. Been wanting to hear you say it for ages now.”

“Really?”

He nods fervently, nose bumping hers with every movement and he takes this chance to peek down at her naked figure, swallowing thickly at how incredible her breasts look flushed to his pecs. “Think about it constantly. Always wondered what it would take to get it out of you.”

“I wish you’d just told me.” The human mumbles, tracing his cupid’s bow with the crest of her own. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now.”

Harry chuckles lightly, humming in amusement as he snakes a strong arm around the dip of her spine, drawing her closer as much as possible. He just wants to feel every inch of her wet, velvety skin. “Well, now you can say it all you want. Over and over and over, while I make your knees shake and your back arch.”

Y/N sputters out a bundle of feathery giggles, looping her arms around his neck and carding her fingers into his shiny curls, pulling his lips down to meet hers in a restless kiss full of quiet whines and snippets of laughter. She talks into his mouth, starting to pant as the pace becomes more passionate, full of eager tongues and nipping teeth. “Now will you please get in and let me fuck you?”

Harry mounts one knee onto the edge of the hot tub, his free hand jutting down against the marble for reinforcement as the other keeps her trapped against his body. “Yeah...Yeah, I think I will.”

He crawls into the heated water, submerging up to his waist due to his height. Once he’s balanced himself within the pool, the palm pressed to the brim slips away, replacing the cold stone with the simmering skin of Y/N’s jaw once again. He tangles his fingers into her hair as he nurses her face to the side, deepening their prolonged kiss, and the whimper she pours into his mouth makes every cell in his body throb with longing. Y/N’s hands ride down his lean stomach and over his pelvic bones, fingers twitching the closer she gets to his cock. She stops right before she reaches his base, wracked with the slightest bit of shy hesitation.

“Go ahead, doll.” Harry murmurs softly, hips bucking forward once against the pads of her digits. “I want you to touch me.”

Y/N’s palm disappears below the mounds of bubbles, cupping over his cock and giving it a rough grope. Harry gasps brokenly against her lips at the sensation, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards into a blissful simper when her breathing throttles just a smidge. Y/N gradually begins to work him below the gentle waves of the water, eyes rolling back when she feels him harden in her hold. She’ll never get used to how erotic it is having Harry shatter under her influence.

“I think it's funny,” she begins, voice delicate and humorous, contradicting the insistent actions she’s partaking below, “how you were threatening me with orgasm denial two minutes ago and now you’re being all nice.”

The vampire thrusts slightly against her strokes, tiny noises escaping his taut throat as a familiar boiling begins to simmer in his veins. His tone is detached and pinched with the effort of maintaining composure. “S’hardly a fair point, considering you caught me off guard with that pet name.”

“Is that so?” The girl inquires playfully, giving the tip of his cock a hard squeeze and scoffing against his mouth when he releases a tight grunt.

“Mm. You always…” Harry draws back from her intoxicating mouth, looking down at her over the crests of his tinted cheekbones to admire the faint imprint of his teeth along her swollen lips. His mind feels like it’s been pumped with syrup, thoughts swishing around lazily, his emotions still somewhat exposed from the mishap that had occurred during their breakfast serenade. It had been over two hours ago, but the wound was still fresh in his subconscious, causing small pinpricks of anxiety to stain his otherwise carefree personality. He feels as if his chest had been cut open with a scalpel, his insides had been rearranged out of order, and the gash had been resewn brutishly; he feels disarrayed and defiled. And because of some simple human girl who’s as fragile and insipidly transparent as glass.

The immortal’s voice comes out as a whisper, carrying the weight of his confused, raw state. “You always catch me off guard.”

Y/N blinks up at him innocently, gnawing on her bottom lip at his sweet compliment, her heart somersaulting within her ribcage. “You catch me off guard, too. Always keep me on my toes, which is something I was never really used to.”

“Do you...” Harry forces down the lump in his throat, allowing himself to be vulnerable for the sake of seeking an answer. Though their problems are vastly different— she’s referring to her small-town, conservative mentality, whereas he’s shouldering two hundred years worth of emotional trauma— he’s more than happy to absorb any advice she could possibly offer. He needs to know how to shut this off; he hates feeling so unsure of himself. It’s like he’s wading through a forest blindfolded, disoriented and uncalibrated with no sense of direction or purpose. He hasn’t felt this helpless since… “Do you hate it?”

The mortal’s eyes fall shut, lashes dusting the apples of her cheeks in a way that Harry deems almost ethereal. She shakes her head lightly in his grasp, a hazy smile adorning her face. “Do I hate that you take me out of my comfort zone? I don’t think I do, actually. I like it. I like that every moment we spend together is something new. I was so used to following the status quo and retracing other’s steps, I never noticed how boring it all was. But you’re never boring. You make everything fun and adventurous, and it’s just so...”

Y/N laughs a tad, trying to come up with a word she can’t quite place, too distracted in how her friend’s thumbs are caressing her jaw. The hand she has below the water has stopped its motions all together, her focus placed solely on the young man’s beautiful features. The copper specks in his eyes glitter in the white light of the bathroom, looking like polished amber gems. “Uhm...It’s...It’s so—”

“Scary...but exhilarating.” Harry finishes her sentence, a quivering sigh coaxing out of his tight chest. He feels like he’s going to vomit.

Y/N bobs her head in agreement, hands drifting to wrap around his dainty wrists, giving them a soft squeeze as if to reassure herself that he’s real. “Yeah, that’s it. It’s...exciting, kind of.”

The creature swallows heavily and releases her face, peeling his eyes away from Y/N’s for fear of letting her see him so defenseless, brows creasing in burning unsettlement. Instead, he lends his attention to outlining the speckling of white strewn into the dark marble of the bathroom wall, using that distraction to calm the raging in his belly. Out of the edge of his vision, he can see Y/N’s face fall, the grip she has on his wrists loosening. A spike of pain shoots through his unbeating heart— similar to what he had endured earlier— at the sadness behind her gesture, but he stifles it with stubborn spite. This isn’t him. It hasn’t been for decades now, and he’d grown to like it as so. In his experience, attachment leads to suffering, and suffering leads to misery. And with all of the centuries he has ahead of him, misery is the last companion he needs.

Harry clears his throat emptily, slashing through the tension that had suspended in the air between them. He glimpses down at her, undoing the knot between his eyebrows and putting as much playful ease into his irises as he can muster, urging the corners of his lips into his signature smirk. “I guess we just excite each other, then. Though that’s become pretty obvious by now, I think.”

Y/N purses her mouth to hide the immature grin his innuendo is attempting to weed out, all awkwardness dissipating from her aura. “I guess we do.”

The monster ducks down to flirt his lips over the human’s, arms tying around her lower back and hiking her upwards. Y/N yelps in surprise, instinctively clamping her legs around his waist and giggling as he lugs her from side to side jokingly, pretending he’s about to drop her into the pool. “Why don’t we go back to exciting one another, hm?”

Y/N’s nose rubs across the bridge of Harry’s and she gasps lightly when she feels the head of his cock prod at her entrance, dipping in a bit to tease her, spreading her open just enough to wheedle a soft hiss. She shivers in his arms despite the heat wafting up from the warm water, a very different type of warmth pouring into the area between her legs. The girl clings to the sides of the English boy’s neck, spinning a damp curl around her forefinger— he’d gotten his hair wet when he’d splashed into the jacuzzi, and the manner in which his ringlets are gluing across his flexing neck and sharp jaw is doing her in.

She gives a small nod, eyes flickering down to his tempting lips and back up at his devious gaze. “Yeah, alright.”

In Harry’s expert opinion, it’s safe to say they definitely excite each other. It’s pretty evident in the way their bodies mold perfectly, satisfying their own desires while simultaneously fulfilling the other’s. The vampire ends up sitting on top of the ledge that circles the inside wall of the pool, his head hanging over the edge with his mouth parted in an open grin, filthy moans and needy whines pouring from his tongue freely as Y/N rocks onto his slick cock. The girl balances herself on her knees, backside crashing down against his thighs in harsh slams full of reckless urgency— she needs this more than she’d ever care to admit. Her nails dig into Harry’s strong shoulders for stability, head thrown back in sheer bliss as her chest bounces with every thrust, the trench of her tummy rippling with contented heat. He just makes her feel so fucking full.

“God, y-you’re so big.” Y/N mewls, swinging her hips in small circles that draw an array of fractured sounds of pleasure from Harry’s taut throat. “You stretch me out so fucking good, Har.”

Harry’s hands tighten into fists against the glossy plastic of the jacuzzi, arms slung casually over the sides of the tub in a relaxed posture. He doesn’t want to bother with taking control at this particular moment; he’s too busy reveling in the ecstasy Y/N is pounding into his system. He jolts with every rough dip of her hips, the corners of his raw lips winking his dimples awake as he looks up at her through barely-cracked eyes, the weight of his mounting orgasm heavy on his lashes. “Love that cock, don’t you? Can tell by the way you always kiss it right before you take it down your throat.”

Y/N grapples onto her friend's neck blindly, one palm grasping the center of his jugular as the other cradles his defined jaw, her thumb smearing across his lips as a result of her choppy movements. Harry cranes his head forward a bit to get a better view, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of her finger as an appreciative thrum rumbles against the hand she has covering his Adam’s Apple. “You look so beautiful when you fuck me all desperate like that.”

Y/N whimpers as she swivels against his lap eagerly, driving herself towards a climax that she knows will leave her utterly ruined. Harry glances down to where their centers meet below the water, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he peers through the violently sloshing waves and frothy suds, watching Y/N glide over him easily now that she’d gotten used to his size. He leans forward, slowly planting a trail of suckling kisses up the center of his friend’s tummy and over the valley of her chest, looking upwards through his long lashes and smiling lewdly into her flesh every time her walls squeeze at the action. She’s so snug around him, he’s convinced no one could ever fit him this well.

His words come out as a raspy growl. “You’re such a tight little thing. Never get tired of that perfect cunt. S’like you were made to take me this deep.”

Y/N collapses forward, her grip shooting up to trade his face with his drenched curls. She sponges her mouth messily over his, gasping onto his tongue as the motions of the water batter against her sensitive clit. Her brows cinch with hunger, tone pleading. “Touch me. Please? Want— Want your hands on me while I ride you.”

Harry shakes his head tauntingly, licking across her top lip and teething at the crescent above it. “I don’t think so, angel. I like seeing you do all the work, for once. You look so good using me to get yourself off.”

The girl fists at his hair almost cruelly, her sanity gradually slipping. “But I...I like it when you use me, too.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware.” The vampire muses arrogantly, spreading his meaty thighs wider so that her strokes have a more profound impact. His position works as intended, seen in how Y/N slows for a second when she sinks down to the hilt, a breathy, “Fuck, that’s so deep.” scraping past the cracks of her gritted teeth.

Harry bucks upward symbolically, signaling for her to regain her rhythm; one look at his dominantly smug expression has her abiding instantly. He lays his head against his bare shoulder, studying every clench of her belly and every heave of her breasts, etching this picture into his extensive list of memories. His voice flows out as thick and silky as molasses. “I just can’t get enough of watching you make yourself cum around my cock.”

“I j-just want you to fuck me.” Y/N is nearly sobbing, her fingertips carving into his scalp as she kisses over his colored cheeks and tinged nose, trying to swindle him into giving her what she wants. “I’ll do anything you want. Promise.”

“Always so willing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles darkly, groaning lightly when she suddenly tenses around his length. He can feel his nails breaking the skin of his palms as his fists contract. “You want me to make you scream, is that it? Want Daddy to pound you until you can’t stand anymore?”

Hearing him refer to himself that way sends electricity coursing down her spine. “Want it so bad.”

The creature reaches up with his index finger and brushes a sopping strand of hair out of Y/N’s face, tucking it behind her ear and tracing down her cheekbone admiringly. After a few seconds of thought, he appraises her with a decision, licking across his top teeth and pressing his tongue along the inside of his cheek teasingly. “Let’s make a deal, then. How about you get yourself right on the edge for me, and then I’ll flip you around and finish you off. Sound fair?”

Y/N doesn’t need to be told twice. She regains her previous stride with more fervor and speed, hellbent on pushing herself to the seam of climax so she can let Harry take the reins. The young man watches her with sinful intent tainting the emerald of his irises, the golden smudges around his pupils glinting blood red for a single heartbeat. He decides he’ll lend his expertise just once, extending his arm and fiddling with the settings on the control panel of the hot tub, preparing a surprise he knows his guest will thoroughly enjoy.

When the jets suddenly rumble to life, Y/N’s jumps in shock, the loud sound startling her clouded brain. But then two concentrated streams of water hit her right between her legs and she nearly faints as newfound bliss erupts through every fiber of her being. The insistent spray toys with her clit in a fashion that is indescribable, revving her closer to release as the overwhelming sensation pairs with the rapture Harry’s cock is hammering into her. She won’t last long, and he knows it.

The monster eyes her reaction attentively, his forefinger lulling upwards across the water-proof screen of the controls, raising the intensity of the jets. The fragmented moan that betrays the human goes right to his core. He then slides his finger back down, reducing the powerful force to softer bursts. Y/N whines in protest against his mouth, begging him to set it higher like before. And Harry does, giving her exactly what she craves with one easy swoop. Y/N’s forehead falls against his jaw, her shallow breaths puffing down his collarbones and heating his icy skin.

“Shit, that’s so—so— fuck!”

Harry continues to play with the settings, teasing her with waves of strong geysers and gentle trickles. Soon enough, he’s perched behind her, her back sticky against his wet chest as she holds herself up on her knees against the marble seat, hands clamped around the metal railing that runs the circumference of the pool. The pole helps her brace his unforgiving pace, her entire body jerking forward with every ram of his hips as small hiccups of pleasure float across the fogged air of the bathroom. Harry takes the shell of her ear between his teeth, biting down with no remorse as Y/N pushes back to meet his adamant thrusts, his coral-lacquered digits sifting between her own around the polished metal. She gets a bleary glimpse of the cross tattoo inked onto his hand as she can’t help but snort softly at the irony.

“Is something funny, love?” Harry’s deep baritone causes chills to wring down her arms.

“Your cross tattoo,” Y/N chokes out, a soft grunt interrupting her sentence as the head of the boy’s prick nudges the pit of her abdomen, “it’s just so ironic.”

It is ironic. Harry had gotten it for that sole purpose— to mock the fact that he was deceased. He didn’t get to have a tombstone, so this is the next best thing: a symbolic one, of sorts, sketched into his skin for the rest of his undead life. A bit morbid, but he quite fancies dark humor, given what he is.

However, he knows Y/N finds it ironic for much different, much unholier reasons.

“You wanna know what’s really ironic?” Harry quips, bottoming out harshly and cooing into the back of her neck when the mortal’s shoulders give a spasm in response. His tone is a mocking whisper. “That such an innocent-looking thing like you loves the idea of being my shameless little whore.”

Y/N’s cheeks boil at his explicit comment, a delicate whimper striking her vocal chords. One of Harry’s hands leaves its post on top of hers, tangling into her wet locks and giving her hair a ruthless yank. He guides her head into the nook between his shoulder and neck, spitting his next words out against the thundering pulse in her temple.

“You’re nothing but Daddy’s little filthy fucking slut. Isn’t that right, baby?”

Y/N nods frantically in his authoritative grasp, struggling to swallow due to the combination of his unyielding tempo and erotic statements.

Harry twists her hair around his knuckles, drawing a broken mewl from her raw lips as his teeth skim along the top of her cheekbone. “Words. Now.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Say it.”

“I’m...I’m your filthy little slut.”

Harry scoffs in entertained disbelief at how willing she is to submit to him, pecking a kiss to the corner of her eye and tasting a salty tear across his tongue. He redirects her head forward, grinning into the side of her scalp. “You should see the way you smile when you say it.”

Y/N can’t help it. It just feels so right with him— she feels oddly safe, knowing that what they share is something neither of them will ever give to anyone else. Their arrangement is one of a kind; they fit each other so flawlessly, nobody could ever possibly come close. And she doesn’t want anyone to try— doesn’t want anyone attempting to replace him. Harry just fills the gap perfectly, and she wouldn’t dream of letting another man do what he does to her. Not when she has Harry near, willing to mumble as many graphic promises into her ear as she wants, all while he fucks a sweltering throb into the area between her thighs.

The human girl finds herself wishing this could last an eternity. Little does she know that if it wasn’t for her mortal ignorance and Harry’s better judgement, it very well could.

///

Later in the day, Harry vaguely recalls how the week prior he had made a passing joke to Y/N about how her sexual drive matches that of a rabbit. What happens in the evening makes him stand by that comment.

They order in Chinese for dinner, and Y/N insists on eating out on the balcony, wanting to get a perfect view of the sun setting over the city skyline. She has never experienced the phenomenon from such a pristine view.

Harry allows it, but only after parenting her into putting on a jacket to avoid catching a cold, sending her back into the condo in search of one as he sets out their meal atop the multicolored glass table outside. Humans are so sensitive, and the last thing he needs is his booty call nearly dying from a case of the sniffles.

She comes back out clad in his patchwork cardigan, wrapping it around her body snugly as she sits with her legs crossed on the patio chair, fitting her box of takeout into the hole created by her thighs. The fluffy knitwork had been the first coat she had found hanging in his humongous closet, and she’d thrown it on without a second thought, too caught up in the excitement of getting to see such a picturesque sight in real life. It’s warm and smells of Harry’s vanilla tobacco cologne, along with hints of other scents, like his chamomile and mandarin shampoo and spiced deodorant. She’d been more than happy to inhabit it.

Harry isn’t sure why, but seeing her sitting across from him on his balcony in a pair of his maroon plaid Calvin Klein boxers, his Keith Harrington Safe Sex t-shirt, and blanketed within his oversized rainbow cardigan, all while her hair falls across her face and tickles her jaw… It makes a fond smile buckle his cheeks, though he manages to tame it quickly.

They chat casually as they eat, sharing silly stories and experiences as they pick at their stir-fry, taking periodic sips of the cranberry juice Harry keeps stocked in his fridge. He doesn’t know the science behind it— though he highly doubts there’s any valid scientific explanation behind the magic that runs through his supernatural veins— but he’s come to find that cranberries help curb his cravings. It’s why he always has a liter on hand.

Y/N informs Harry on how her work week had gone, and about how one of her friends back home had gotten engaged recently. She says it all seems so surreal and that she doubts the girl will actually go through with it, which makes the monster burst into laughter, much to her confusion. Harry thinks that this is probably the first time he’s ever seen Y/N be so blatantly pessimistic; it’s strangely comical. Just hearing her opinion on the situation is enough to send anyone into a cackle fit, especially when she says it with such a straight face. “Yeah, I just don’t think she’ll do it. She says she loves him, but she always used to complain about his foot fetish, and I’m pretty sure she’d go insane if she had to put up with that for the rest of her life.”

Harry wards off another bundle of giggles, pursing his twitching lips and bobbing his head once in understanding, using his chopsticks to pop a piece of fried duck into his mouth. “That’s a valid reason to abandon anyone at the altar, if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I know, right? She told me he likes sucking whipped cream off her toes and, like, not to kinkshame, because I obviously have my own weird shit going on—”

“Yeah, I can attest to that.” Harry shrugs his eyebrows suggestively, picking a small chunk of broccoli off his utensil and smirking as he chews slowly. “Decently weird, actually.”

Y/N gifts him a deadpan expression, shoving a piece of veggie dumpling into her mouth and choosing to ignore his dig. “Anyways, I feel like that one is just on a whole other level. Like...what the fuck?”

Harry shares an anecdote about his own friends, as well, feeling that if he doesn’t open up at least a smidge, she'll start becoming suspicious. He recounts the time when he and Mitch had snuck into a Fleetwood Mac concert and met Stevie Nicks, though he’s careful enough not to tell her the date the event had occurred. He just lets her deduce it was one of their more recent tours, when in reality, it had been back in the eighties. The other detail Harry leaves off is the fact that he had tried to seduce Stevie, emphasis being on “tried.” It hadn’t stuck, unfortunately, and what had made the experience even more mortifying is that his idol had taken an interest in Mitch instead. Harry’s ego has yet to recover from that blow; first, because Mitch had the sheer gall to reject the celebrity on the grounds that he wasn’t looking to get involved in any public scandals, and secondly because his best friend refuses to ever let him live it down. “Hey, remember when we met Stevie Nicks and she wanted to fuck me instead of you? Good times, man.”

When the sun finally begins to dip over the horizon, their conversation dies off, replaced by the serene sounds of distant traffic and a light wind picking up as the temperature begins to drop for the night. Y/N stares at the sky in childish wonder as the bright blue starts to darken, streaking with mellow oranges, pastel purples, and buttery yellows, the colors painting across the clouds and giving the bustling city a timeless quality that can only be truly appreciated firsthand. A small, dreamy smile spreads across Y/N’s lips as the gorgeous canvas reflects off the glossy surface of her irises, her legs drawn up to her chest with her arms hugging her knees. She gazes wistfully over the place she has now grown to call home, taking in all it has to offer for the first time in two months, feeling oddly at ease despite the fact that she usually feels lonely wandering its streets.

The mixture of drunken hues casts a hazy glow across her skin and hair, dim stars beginning to twinkle in space as the moon makes its debut. Y/N delights herself with watching the scene unfold, surveying the endless stretch of sky and soaking in its natural beauty. And as Y/N stares across Los Angeles during one of its most breath-taking moments, Harry finds himself staring at her instead.

Once darkness has soaked across the skyscrapers and roads of California for the night, Y/N and Harry turn in, as well. They end up splayed across Harry’s leather couch, entertaining a new episode of Sugar Rush on the ninety-inch flat screen mounted on his glass wall; it’s simply in order to take up the last couple of hours left before bed. By some inexplicable miracle, the vampire had managed to actually fall asleep last night after he and his visitor had finished their regularly scheduled activities. He doubts he’ll be that lucky tonight, but he has no choice but to play the part for the sake of keeping up appearances.

Maybe if the universe is feeling exceptionally generous, the human will fall asleep while they’re watching TV and Harry can just carry her up to his room without having to put on an act. It’s a favorable alternative to having to fake sleep until she gives into fatigue; lying awake with his eyes closed for an hour would make him feel as stupid as Niall’s golfing addiction.

However, it appears that for the time being, Y/N has other plans to bring forward some tried and true exhaustion.

There’s nothing particularly sexual about the fashion in which their bodies are pressed together at the moment, given that it’s a pretty innocent snuggling position. Harry is slumped against the backrest of the sofa with his feet propped on his coffee table, comfy in a pair of black jogging shorts and a vintage Rolling Stones tee. Y/N is nestled into his torso beside him, her head burrowed into his chest with his arm slung nonchalantly across her shoulders and down her back, legs intertwined with his. She had done it out of instinct and Harry doesn’t really have an issue with the gesture; she’s warm and soft and the soothing action of her socked foot running up and down his calf helps him unwind from the day’s events. He likes this, he decides. She smells like him— with her usual scent of honey and lavender permeating through— and she’s decked out in his clothes, aimlessly doodling figures onto his tummy as they enjoy the baking show in comfortable silence. It’s strangely mellow.

Y/N is the one who instigates, as usual. Humans are so horny, it’s ridiculous. But he benefits from this specific mortal’s libido, so he’s not complaining.

It starts with her drifting upwards from where she’d been tracing over his butterfly tattoo, her warm fingers stroking over the prominent structure of his clavicle, her eyes flickering up to gauge his reaction. Harry doesn’t move an inch, face maintaining a curtain of calm indifference. He figures she’s just extra touchy, as she normally is. Then the pads of her digits skim across the side of his throat and an impulsive flare of panic pricks the back of his skull, but it quickly dissolves, as it tends to do now around her. She’s the only person in the last two centuries who has managed to touch him there without inciting a rampage.

Y/N coasts across the nape of his neck, twirling a baby curl around her forefinger distractedly, giving it a small tug in the manner she knows he likes. Harry’s body tightens for a split second and she bites into her lower lip to muffle a mischievous grin. She stretches up, dusting a lingering peck to the curve right behind his ear, running her nose across the shell tenderly. The vampire shifts slightly in his seat, the feathery sensation beginning to weigh at the pit of his stomach. She’s teasing him, and it’s working.

The mortal flushes her puckered mouth fully to the side of his jugular, rubbing the ridges of her skin over one of the veins chiseling into existence, right over the area where a heartbeat used to lie. Harry’s hand balls into a fist against the dip of her spine, itching to grip onto something to keep his cool. Preferably, her throat.

When Y/N finally speaks, the hot breath of her words makes his cock twitch against his thigh. “Wanna kiss a bit?”

Harry cranes his head to look at her, eyebrows jumping up in amusement. “You wanna make-out? What are we, fourteen?”

The girl gives him an impassive pout and glances indicatively towards the armrest of the couch, where they had sat the evening prior while admiring his art wall. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night.”

Harry presses his lips together into a playful simper. She makes a valid point. “Well, I was horny last night. Wasn’t in my right mind.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his juvenile answer.

“And you’re not now?” She prods softly, her gaze slinking down to his spread thighs, almost as if to check if he’s hard. Harry snorts as her action and she bats her lashes up at him with fake innocence, muscling down the sly smirk threatening to emerge across her face.

“Not really, but maybe I could be…” The creature glimpses at her colored mouth for a heartbeat, reaching a hand up and pushing his air-dried ringlets back from his forehead, lips twitching coyly. “Persuaded.”

Y/N leans forward, buttoning their mouths for a fleeting moment. She pulls back a tad, ghosting the crescent of her top lip over his to try and compel him. “Please?”

“Mm,” Harry licks at the corner of his mouth, eyes half-lidded tauntingly, “I don’t think that was enough. Show some team spirit, will you?”

The girl gifts him another kiss, this one longer and more intense, a palm making its way to cup his jaw. “Please, H?”

He’s begun to pant lightly, hand flattening across the small of her back as if to guide her somewhere. He blinks down at her smugly, gnawing into his cheek. “You’re not quite there. Maybe a little more.”

It turns out one more kiss is enough to convince his metaphorical meter. Y/N ends up perched in his lap, both of his large hands groping at her ass as she clutches the back of his neck, their lips sewn together in a filthy kiss full of gentle whines and impatient tongues. It’s going pretty great, and Harry thinks that Y/N is probably one of the most fun people he’s ever had the pleasure of kissing. Her mouth is as sweet as the sugary scent she always dotes, she ebbs and flows to his movements seamlessly, and the enthusiasm she carries makes every nerve in his body fizzle. The noises she makes are incredibly satisfying, as well. All her needy mewls and delicate whimpers string right down to his groin.

After a few minutes of dry humping and jesting bites placed on overzealous lips, Harry boosts himself up from his relaxed position, feet knocking off the coffee table as an arm snakes around her hips. He sits forward, extending his free hand and waving it around blindly, too occupied to willingly break their embrace. He refuses to pull away, especially when she’s gluing such dirty moans to the roof of his mouth. His palm swings across the air stubbornly until it finally slaps down against the marble surface he’d been searching for, his grip tightening around its rim for confirmation. He proceeds to scoot the counter forward, intent on laying Y/N out on top so he can get on his knees against his furry carpet, get his boxers down her velvety legs, and get his head bobbing between her quivering thighs.

Harry’s plan is about to pan out ideally until a high-pitched shriek cuts through the tense ambiance of the room.

Y/N cracks their kiss, gasping and heaving as her head whizzes from side to side, looking for the origin of the annoying trill that had interrupted their playtime. “What—What is that?”

The vampire glances over his back towards where the ruckus is stemming, the insistent chime grating his heightened ears. He spots the culprit immediately, releasing an irritated groan as a result: his phone.

From his spot on the edge of the couch, Mitch’s contact picture blazes across the screen. Harry loves that photo of his best friend— the way his emotionless expression and skinny middle finger are directed towards the camera makes it a wonderful shot— but he really wishes he didn’t have to see it right now. He has other more pressing matters. Literal pressing matters, if the tent in his mesh shorts is any indication.

“Just ignore it.” Harry murmurs, turning back to slam their lips together once again. Y/N obliges without a second thought, happily re-engaging her previous activity of smudging her cupid’s bow across her friend’s as he stretches her out across the table

Ignoring it works the first time. And the second. But by the third call, Harry has no choice but to break away with an exasperated grunt, his brittle patience forcing him to handle the blaring ringtone.

He slides his thumb across the screen roughly, bringing it to his ear as he slumps back into the couch cushions, holding up a finger towards Y/N apologetically and mouthing a quick, “It’ll be just a second.”

His guest nods in understanding, letting her head fall back against the cold marble and distracting herself by counting all of the lightbulbs situated at the peaks of the chandeliers above.

Harry turns his focus to the person on the other end of the phone line, voice snipped with aggravated anger. “What?!”

“Whoa, okay… That’s no way to talk to the elderly. Take it down a notch, Grumpy. Didn’t Snow White teach you any manners?”

The monster takes a deep breath to keep his rage in check, gritting out his words through bared teeth. “I’m fucking busy right now. What do you want?”

“Oh, well, I’m so sorry to be a bother, My Lord. I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you have all your stuff packed for tomorrow. Y’know, like the good friend I am.”

Harry blinks blankly, all indignation flooding out of his system, replaced by utter confusion. “You wanted to check if I’m...? For what? Why would I need to pack?”

There’s a pause on Mitch’s end, as if the man is waiting for Harry to come to the conclusion himself, static filling the speaker. When it’s obvious the younger vampire is clueless, his best friend elaborates slowly. “For the trip. The Vegas trip. The one we take every year around the same time. The one that we all agreed we’d roadtrip in your car tomorrow.”

Harry’s eyes widen in realization, his entire face paling. Fuck.

“The trip.” He mumbles, the fingers of his free hand coming up to rub at his temples worriedly as his mistake dawns on him. “God, I completely forgot about it.”

“You can’t be serious.” Mitch deadpans, a long sigh following his comment. “Harry, you’re the one that booked the hotel this time. How could you possibly forget?”

“I…” Harry glances over at Y/N as guilt weighs into his demeanor. The girl meets his gaze, smiling sweetly and waving, completely unaware of the horrific ordeal he’s gotten himself into by inviting her over. “I got caught up with something.”

A humorless snort crackles through the stereo of his phone, Mitch’s voice tinged with irked disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what you’ve been saying for the last four weeks now every time you bail on us. I just figured you’d get your head out of your ass for this one, but I suppose I spoke too soon.”

Harry drags his palm down his face, gripping his chin in thought. “I’m sorry. Genuinely. I didn’t mean to let it slip, I’ve just been so occupied during the last couple of weekends that—”

“That you forgot about our yearly trip. How nice. Just perfect.”

“Mitch, I know I fucked up, alright? But what if—”

The immortal’s solution gets cut short when out of his peripheral vision, he sees Y/N climb off the coffee table and onto the carpet below. Harry’s words lodge in his throat as he watches the girl crawl on all fours across the ground towards him, a cheeky smile ticking the corners of her lips as her irises glimmer schemingly. Shit.

“‘What if’ what?”

“What if...Uhm…” Harry finds himself struggling to keep his end of the conversation going, the reason being that Y/N has now reached the edge of the sofa where he resides. She sits back onto her heels, walking her fingers teasingly across his knees and grasping them with her palms, parting them open widely. “I…”

“For fuck’s sake, H, what are you trying to say?” Mitch snaps; even through the distance, he can feel its bite.

Y/N nuzzles herself between Harry’s opened legs, a hand riding up one of his thick thigh as she sponges wet kisses to his kneecap, grinning into his skin when her fingers duck under the material of his shorts. His cadence comes out strained with the effort of keeping up an unfazed front. “What if I— what if we switch the reservations?”

“How do you mean?”

The human’s fingers travel up the length of his inner thigh, sneaking below his cotton briefs and giving the tip of his semi-hard cock a gentle caress. Harry writhes in his seat, watching with bated breath as Y/N draws her forearm back out from beneath his clothes, her middle finger covered in a bead of precum— a result of all the grinding they’d done while kissing. She locks eyes with him and pushes the digit past her swollen lips, sucking off the small droplet while her lashes flutter in pleasure. She moans softly, his familiar saltiness always so welcomed. Her next whisper is sultry and needy. “You taste so fucking good.”

Harry swallows down a groan and his voice suffers the consequences, coming out shaky and high. “Like...Like what if we switch out the n-names. I could call the hotel and put the rooms under your info instead.”

Mitch is quiet for a second, mulling over his friend’s offer. The instance is long enough for Harry to reach forward and snatch Y/N’s wrist, giving it a dominant squeeze as a scolding grimace dips the ends of his lips and furrows his brows. He mouths his words slowly with an ominous hue, making sure she interprets the message. “That’s enough.”

Y/N twists herself free of his hold, eyes gleaming in challenge. She talks softly as to not be heard through the phone, but she might as well be screaming thanks to Harry’s supernatural hearing abilities. “I don’t think so.”

“Are you really not going, then?”

The gentle tone of Mitch’s question snaps Harry back into reality. He feels bad for flaking on his crew, but he doesn’t really have a choice at this point. Y/N is already here per his request, and kicking her out would be extremely dickish, even by his standards. “I’m booked the rest of the weekend, mate. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Y/N proceeds to grab onto the elastic band of Harry’s shorts, pulling the front down to expose the clothed bulge that lies beneath. A soiled patch has formed over the material of his underwear, and he can see her irises twinkle in satisfaction, which causes the faint burning in his veins to intensify. The girl palms him through the fabric, preening at the low, tight grunt that escapes Harry’s flexing throat. A shiver pin-balls down his spine and he tries to grab at her forearm to wrench it away from between his legs, but Y/N is determined to work him into a mess, simply groping him more intently and giggling lightly when his hips thrash in response.

“Alright, I guess that settles it. I’ll just tell the group we’re taking Niall’s car instead, and that Adam and I will take turns driving. Just get the lodging handled, will you?”

“‘Course, I got it, don’t worry.” Harry chokes out, reaching a hand towards Y/N’s hair in a desperate attempt to get a hold of her, but she ducks to evade him. She tugs down his final layer of protection, her mouth immediately finding its way to his large cock and giving it one long lap from base to tip, staring up at him mockingly from beneath heavy lashes. She grasps it in both of her palms, gifting it a few quick pumps and spitting over the head sloppily, rubbing the slit across her bottom lip as she quirks her brows at him in a dare.

The vampire fails to ward off the fracture in his composure this time. “Christ, you’re such a fucking sl—”

He stops himself before he finishes the graphic statement, remembering that everything he says is being directly broadcast to someone else on the other end of his phone. Someone who’s oblivious to the filth currently taking place on Harry’s side of the call. “I’m on it, yeah? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Wait.”

Harry is at the verge of tearing his hair out, his tone teetering at the cusp of sanity. “Yeah?”

“Would you mind telling me why you’re not going? I feel like everyone at least deserves an explanation, especially since you’re dipping on the plans literally the day before.”

The young man quickly clears his throat, forcing himself to keep control as he watches the mortal stick her entire tongue out to run his cock up and down its expanse. “I’ll—I’ll explain when you come back.”

The textured surface sends zaps of lightning surging through every crevice of Harry’s body, but he somehow enables restraint, as weak as it may be. He silently warns Y/N once again about her actions, carding his fingers into her hair and digging the pads into her scalp. “Stop.”

“Also, why are you breathing so hard? What are you even up to right now?”

The human ignores his command, blowing over the leaking hole of his prick and giving it a playful kiss.

“I’m— fuck— I’m...I’m on the treadmill.”

Mitch goes quiet for a heartbeat. “You don’t have a treadmill.”

Y/N tosses her hair over her shoulder, leaning down to rest her cheek along Harry’s inner thigh, giving him the perfect angle to view what she’s about to do. She presses her head forward, slipping his entire cock down her throat and gagging when it hits a sensitive spot in the back, her nails raking down his twitching tummy. She keeps him there for an elongated moment, allowing her walls to tighten around his length just how he likes it, toying with his swollen balls and moaning quietly around his prick. He can feel the vibrations burrow into the marrow of his bones.

“I told you to stop.” He doesn’t even bother mouthing his words this time, mood dark and cautious. He can hear Mitch exclaim in confusion through his speaker, but it’s the last thing on his mind right now.

Y/N’s watery eyes dance with a devious gleam as she grins around his girth, removing him just enough so she can breath properly, rubbing his bubbling tip along the inside of her silky cheek. Her phrase is muffled, but it’s clear enough to completely shatter him. “Make me, Daddy.”

Harry’s features harden. He��s done playing games.

He directs his attention to the microphone, voice calm and collected to the point where it’s frightening, all the tension and instability crumbling to ash. His brows crease dangerously, accent thicker than she’s ever heard it. “I have to go.”

“Harry—”

“I’ll text you after I fix the booking.”

The device beeps and the call ends, the phone falling face-down onto the couch.

The vampire roughly jerks Y/N back by her hair, sitting forward until their noses brush, his cold touch sending a prickling across her cheeks and ears. He addresses her with the same type of undisturbed patience he’d shown his friend, aura teeming with quiet power.

“Get up. Now.”

Y/N ends up with her back pressed into the couch cushions, Harry suspended above her with his knees on either sides of her hips, his cock ramming down her throat harshly as he guides her head with his knuckles twisted into her roots. He’s thrusting forward to meet her mouth, the emerald around his pupils electric with a type of carnal dominance that makes heat pour into her belly. She’s gazing up at him with water streaming freely out of her eyes and spit dripping down her chin, her hands fisting at the leather of the sofa as he fucks her face unrelentingly.

“You think that little stunt was cute? You think teasing me like that was fun?” He growls as he peers down at her, ramming past her raw lips with no remorse, swimming in the damp choking sounds that bounce back from the furniture in the room. “Open wider. Wider.”

She obeys.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To have me down your throat while you gag around it until you can barely breath? To choke on it while you take that heavy load and swallow every drop?”

Y/N bobs her head feverishly, unable to form any coherent sentences due to his violent pace.

The grip Harry has on the crown of her head tightens, his other hand cupping the back of her skull to push her deeper down his shaft, her nose smearing over his happy trail as his heavy balls bump against her slobbery chin. “Take that fucking cock, then. Take every inch like the filthy fucking brat you are.”

Y/N’s blurry eyes lull shut, the edges of her stinging mouth curving upwards as he hits every single one of her desires with a skill only he possesses. She doesn’t know why— or if it’s even healthy, at this point— but she’s never felt more pleasure than when she’s at Harry’s disposal. She just loves seeing him come undone for her.

“God, you like that, don’t you? Like being my little plaything?” The grin dimpling Harry’s cheeks is so utterly erotic and sinful, Y/N feels like she’s damning her soul just by glimpsing at it. He delicately thumbs tears off her cheekbones, contradicting his other much less tame motions. “Baby just wants to feel Daddy cum down her throat, doesn’t she?”

Stars begin spotting the girl’s vision, her mind vignetting as a fulfilling ache settles into her jugular. She nods her head drunkenly, coughing dryly as her lungs rattle with shallow inhales.

Harry gives an exceptionally hard stroke, holding her in place and feeling her constrict around him, her nails digging into the aged leather of his sofa. He takes a pause, broad chest heaving as his head falls back to hang between his shoulder blades, the golden light of his chandeliers reflecting off the red shade inking his irises. His climax begins to tip into his blood. “Say it. Be a good girl and say, ‘please cum for me, Daddy.’”

Y/N’s voice floats out raspy and trembling as she ogles up at the monster wishfully, her ability to speak absolutely frayed from the exertion she’s been put through. Her sentence is barely comprehensible given her full mouth, but watching her try is what gets Harry off. “P-Please cum for me, Daddy.”

Thick ribbons of warmth suddenly erupt down her throat, coaxing a series of garbled moans to pour from Harry’s chest. His whole body tightens as an orgasm floods his system, the muscles of his back drawing taut, his defined biceps jolting, and his lean abdomen clenching in ecstasy. His fern tattoos ripple over his tanned skin as he gives a few more deep strokes for good measure, milking himself to completion and drinking up the tiny noises of sensitivity Y/N makes. He finishes dishing the punishment she’d earned, delivering burst after burst of cum just as he’d promised, feeling her flex around his slick cock as she eagerly swallows every spurt.

“Every last bit, baby. All of it. Christ, that’s my fucking girl. ”

The boy cranes his neck forward again, taking in her disheveled appearance and humming in needy appreciation. Her hair is a disaster from all of his tugging, her eyes are puffy and red, and her lips are flushed and plump. There’s trails of dried tears tracing her cheeks and across her jaw, the collar of her borrowed shirt is soggy with spit, and he can just barely make out the damp patch she’s stained into his boxers along the insides of her thighs. She’s fiddling with her fingers across her lap, continuously shifting around in her seat and clamping her legs together, and Harry comes to the realization that she’s trying to ride the seam of his briefs in order to get a spoonful of relief.

In his sexually demented opinion, she’s looks like a proper angel.

Harry gradually withdraws himself from her mouth, watching with empty content as she sputters into a coughing fit and gulps down air as if she hasn’t had it for weeks. She wipes at the lower half of her face messily with the back of her hand, staring up at him all moony and soft, feeling her cheeks boil at his conceited simper. The vampire carefully tucks his drenched prick back into his clothes, crouching down to her level and lilting his head to the side, tucking a strand of tangled hair behind her heated ear. The pads of his digits streak down the front of her neck and perch at the hollow between her collarbones, her pulse thundering beneath her sweaty flesh. He taps at the center of her throat for significance, tone fond and almost caring. “Is it sore?”

Y/N struggles to get saliva down, rattling her head in agreement since her vocal chords are refusing to work.

Harry folds the hem of his tee over his fingers, reaching forward to help clean up anything leftover across her chin and jaw. Y/N eyes him with a form of detached admiration, enamored with the way he tends to her so gently now that the session has come to a close.

“You like it, though, right?”

The young woman doesn’t even try to mask the fact that she indeed does, nodding her head once again.

“That’s good to hear, pet.” Harry drops his shirt back over his belly, giving her a chaste peck to the nose. Despite the ever-present coldness of his touch, the action sparks a warm glow that surges from the tips of her ears to the heels of her feet. “Want to make sure I wasn’t being too rough.”

He stands up onto his knees, dismounting the sofa and combing a few rouge curls out of his eyes, nudging at her socked foot jestingly with his. Y/N kicks him in return as she busies herself with combing out the knots from her mussed locks, attempting to distract herself from the gnawing running along the inside of her stomach. She needs to get it sedated, but she’s too timid to ask the vampire outright, which she knows is ironic given what they’d just done.

Harry sits down along the marble counter of the coffee table with his forearms propped along his knees, toying with his lionhead daylight ring (it’s the only one he wears at home, out of necessity) as he watches her tend to the mess he’d created. He smiles to himself in satisfied amusement— she always looks so pretty freshly face-fucked.

The monster then notices how the human is still rubbing her thighs together, reminding him that she had been left unattended. He decides that he should do what any gentleman would and provide assistance to the issue; it’s only fair, according to the unspoken laws of their little mutual arrangement. He hooks his fingers along the rim of the table beneath him, dragging it forward until his knees meet the edge of the couch, knocking hers open slightly. He leans back onto his palms as she gives him a curious glance, the olive tone around his pupils glittering with hunger while his fingers tap knowingly along the surface below.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Harry’s eyebrows kink upward. “Can’t a man look in his own home?”

“Of course he can, but just not at me. Staring’s rude. Especially when I’m covered in spit and bodily fluids.”

The boy gives an exaggerated pout, pairing it with a set of puppy dog eyes and a honeyed drawl. “But you look so cute covered in my bodily fluids.”

Y/N stares at him flatly. “Wow. I’m so flattered. I’ll file that compliment right under the one where you said I look adorable with jizz all over my eyelashes.”

“Well, you do! And that was a great compliment, if you think about it. It’s unique and creative— very avant-garde of me.”

“You need brain cells in order to be avant-garde.”

“Just shut up and get on your hands and knees.”

///

Harry drinks from Y/N that night.

He knows Mitch would scold him for it, considering the quota for draft beverages from mortal taps is strictly once a week, per his orders. But the creature just can’t help himself. She smells so sweet, and her neck looks so tempting when her head is turned to the side in sleep; even in the dark, he can see her veins pumping beneath the taut skin. He justifies it by telling himself that any vampire would give into weakness if they were in his place, and it’s not like he’s some uncultured, unhinged newborn who lacks basic control. He’s spent decades refining his impulses and taming his animalistic instincts to the point where he can walk through a butcher shop and not even bat an eye. He’s more than capable of double-dipping without threatening her life.

However, Harry will admit that he does make some embarrassing sounds while he’s fang-deep in her carotid artery. He can’t be expected to withhold them, especially not with how good she tastes. Y/N’s blood reminds him of so many things that he can’t ever quite place its flavor. Sometimes it reminds him of green grapes and champagne, and others it dawns on him in the form of peaches and cream. There’s instances where she doesn’t even fall into the usual spectrum of taste, but rather reminds him of sensations instead of tangible objects. Sometimes she tastes the way the first breath of spring feels— light and soothing, with hints of fresh florals and dewy mornings. Other times, she tastes like strawberries on a summer evening— warm, tangy, and nostalgic. At the risk of sounding like a brain-dead junky, drinking from Y/N is a magical experience that he wishes could last forever; Harry has never found it more difficult to pull back from someone’s throat than when he has to recede from hers.

After the immortal has had his fill, he pricks his finger along one of his fangs and smears a drop of his blood onto Y/N’s tongue, watching the two gaping holes on her neck heal instantaneously and leave behind a faint bruise that will likely be gone by morning. He spends the rest of the night twirling stands of her hair around his fingers and counting her heartbeats, vaguely wondering what it feels like to have one. It’s been so long since he’s carried a pulse, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have it thumping in his chest. All he has left is a phantom organ and not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss its steady rhythm.

The second the first beam of sunlight filters in through the crack in Harry’s window shades, he’s up on his feet pacing around the kitchen, going through his daily morning routine of preparing breakfast with a lively soundtrack to keep him company. That is, until his actual companion awakens; then he happily replaces his playlist with her groggy voice and tired eyes.

Harry has chosen to prepare parfaits as their first meal of the day, scooping vanilla yogurt into two marbled bowls and setting out an abundant array of toppings, smiling to himself at the way Y/N’s eyes light up the room. She fills her platter to the brim with blueberries, chunks of banana, diced peaches, and crushed walnuts, while Harry loads his with tons of raspberries, slices of mango, scoops of granola, and plenty of honey. He runs into some trouble halfway through squeezing out the last ingredient, proceeding to shake it vigorously to try and get rid of the clump blocking the spout. The bottle refuses to cooperate and Harry turns it towards his face to get a better look at the problem, winking one eye shut to focus better on the cap. He gives it another testing squeeze and much to his luck, the jammed portion squirts loose and he ends up with syrup dripping down his face.

Y/N doesn’t even attempt to stifle her amusement, nearly choking on a spoonful of yogurt as laughter takes over her entire body. The vampire stands rigidly beside her, glaring at the teddy bear-shaped container with so much hatred, she thinks it might melt. When the human finally manages to tame her giggles, she reaches up and uses her index finger to collect honey right off Harry’s cheek, sticking the digit into her mouth and sucking it off with a loud pop.

Her friend gives her a deadpan scowl, to which she simply shrugs her brows playfully while gifting him a bright grin. “Now you know what it feels to have a sticky liquid shot into your eye. Doesn’t feel too good, does it?”

“Fuck off.”

“You look pretty, though. Does that make it better?”

“I will literally pour my yogurt onto your hair.”

“Karma’s a bitch, Winnie the Pooh.”

Harry ends up having to shower in order to successfully get rid of the gooey substance, though it’s hardly a hassle given that Y/N gladly joins him. It doesn’t turn too sexual, surprisingly enough.

The duo stand under the shower panel covered in suds, steam floating around their naked bodies as water pelts down on top of them, matting hair to their necks and jaws. Harry doesn’t know why, but he likes the fact that they’re now comfortable enough to be nude around each other outside of their usual dynamic. It’s fulfilling, for some odd reason.

The girl helps the creature scrub off the honey with some facial cleanser, rubbing at his flushed cheeks with her thumbs and fighting off an endeared giggle when he scrunches his nose in annoyance. His voice comes out as a childish whine. “That hurts.”

“Stop being such a baby.” She huffs, going in along his cheekbones and rolling her eyes when he grumbles. “Lean down.”

Harry abides, ducking down so she can get a better angle, casually coasting his hands onto her hips to keep her from losing her footing to the slippery floor. Y/N leans forward onto the tips of her toes, squinting at him through the foggy air as she continues to wash off the syrup, wanting to make sure she isn’t missing a single spot. Harry watches her quietly with his sopping curls sticking to his forehead and along the nape of his neck, lips twitching fondly at how hellbent she is on getting the mess off. Her brows are creased in concentration and her tongue is peeking out of her mouth; he has to restrain the impulse to surge forward and kiss her.

Once Y/N is satisfied with her work, she falls back onto her heels, washing any remnants away under the stream and pushing her drenched strands out of her face. “All done. Try not to do it again.”

“I make no promises.” Harry tuts as he joins her beneath the water, bare chest a mere inch from hers as he quirks his brows coyly. “It got you naked, so I’ll probably do it again.”

“I won’t help next time.”

“Then I’ll just rub my face against yours and get it all over you. Won’t have much of a choice, then.”

“You’re a literal child.”

Y/N grabs the bottle of chamomile shampoo from the shelf carved into the polished stone wall of the shower, uncapping it and pouring a glob into the palm of her hand. She sets the container back down and beckons Harry forward with the forefinger of her free hand. The vampire drifts towards her once again and wraps his arms across the dip of her back, lightly swaying her from side to side as she begins working the shampoo into his roots, the pads of her fingers massaging his scalp in slow circles. The groan that betrays him is pitiful.

Y/N pretends not to hear it, continuing to work a lather into his curls as the boy trails his fingers up and down the center of her spine, the feathery sensation causing her to shiver despite the hot temperature of the water. Harry leans down to nestle his face into the crook of his friend’s neck, laying his head along her shoulder and cradling her to his body as she combs her fingers through his locks. He can’t remember the last time he took a shower with someone just for the sake of it, with no ulterior motive other than to bask in each other’s presence. It’s nice.

Harry begins sponging his lips across the curve of Y/N’s throat, feeling her tense momentarily before relaxing back into his grasp, the pads of her digits scratching at his scalp.

“God, that feels so good.” Harry mumbles, tone so garbled in bliss, it’s barely understandable.

The mortal slowly coaxes him back under the direct line of the shower, thoroughly rinsing the bubbles out of his hair and making sure to carefully wash any leftover shampoo out of his lashes. She then ties her arms around his broad shoulders, gently running her nails up and down the expanse of his muscular back, feeling the tendons unknot under her guidance. Y/N cranes her head to the side and flushes her lips to Harry’s temple, the pattering of the water camouflaging the fact that the area lacks a pulse. She sighs softly in innocent pleasure, the warm air sending a delightful bristling down the young man’s neck and drawing another drunken whimper from his lungs. This all feels therapeutic, almost. Neither had realized how much they missed domesticity until now.

The human suddenly snorts humorously, talking against Harry’s waxy skin. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to make a move yet.”

Harry rattles his head sleepily, the ridges of his mouth tickling her jugular as he does so. His voice is distant and tender, but his words send a pang of electricity to her core. “I’ll fuck you afterwards. Just wanna enjoy this right now.”

Y/N lets her eyes lull shut, allowing the sheets of hot water to numb her mind the same way it had his, a certain type of mellowness soaking into her bones. Her tone comes out as soothed and detached as her lover’s, all her attention funneled into how incredible his hard body feels pressed to hers in such an intimate fashion, his strong arms clinging to her like a lifeline. “I’m not complaining.”

Even in his distracted state, Harry still somehow manages to wriggle in a smug quip. “Of course you’re not. I give you nothing to complain about.”

“Dickhead.”

Y/N gives his ringlets a spiteful tug, which he responds to with an airy chuckle and a cheeky smack across her ass. The girl jumps slightly with a small gasp and a handful of select curses, which only causes him to cackle even further. “You love that shit, don’t you?”

“Go back to keeping your mouth shut.”

“Mm. S’what I thought.”

Harry keeps his sensual promise, as he always does.

As soon as they exit the shower, he immediately wanders into the bedroom, the only towel in his possession being the one he’s using to shake out his damp curls. Y/N dries off her body patiently as she stands in front of the clouded mirror, rubbing the linen over her softened skin. She handles her hair second, patting and scrunching the water out as she thinks on what Harry could possibly be doing that is taking him so long. She doubts he’s getting dressed, if his earlier intentions are any indication, and he seemed like he had a plan in motion when he’d walked out, so there must be a method to his prolonged absence.

When the monster pads back into the bathroom, he is just as bare as when he’d left, the towel he’d used on his locks crumpled in his large hands. He chucks it into the linen hamper beside the jacuzzi, sauntering up behind Y/N and she has to force herself not to use the mirror to ogle below his waist. She folds her towel neatly onto the counter, reaching forward and wiping the last bit of condensation off the glass so she can get a proper view of Harry’s face. Maybe it’ll help her deduce what he’s plotting.

The boy presses up against her backside, pushing her forward until her hips are wedged between his torso and the edge of the bathroom counter, moving all her stringy hair onto one shoulder with the back of his hand. Harry locks eyes with her through the mirror, speckling a few sloppy kisses along the back of her neck and grinning into her flesh when a shiver coils down her spine. He looks so fucking good with his damp ringlets glued along his sharp jaw, his jade eyes glossy with lascivious intentions, and his cheeks and chest still colored from the hot water, tattoos looking as alluring as ever. He nuzzles the tip of his nose across the shell of her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging teasingly, the warm air of his low, dominant tone causing her flinch in anticipation.

“Arms behind your back.”

Y/N obeys without a hitch, bringing her hands together atop the alcove at the bottom of her spine. She feels the unmistakable sensation of cold metal looping around her wrists, tightening with soft clicks and pinching at her skin. The cuffs sift into the designated setting and Harry gives them a quick yank to check for security, tying the excess chain link around his knuckles and pulling down harshly. Y/N’s body contorts to his influence, her arms straightening out as her back arches, chest swelling forward while her hips remain perched to the tabletop, held in place by his own. She can feel the head of his cock dab against the back of her thighs, his irises darkening as he surveys her bust with a type of barely-contained desire that sends heat flooding into her abdomen.

Harry ducks his head further down to glue more kisses along the slope of her shoulder, nipping periodically and leaving behind a neat row of love bites that he’ll admire in detail later. The words he murmurs against her skin deliver a sweltering simmer in their wake. “Do you want it rough?”

Y/N swallows thickly, nodding her head several times and whispering a bashful, “Yes.”

“‘Yes’ what?”

The human licks at her lips tentatively, squeaking a tad when gives the metal hoops an expectant tug, urging a reply. “Yes, sir.”

Harry’s lashes flutter shut for a second, the corners of his lips twitching in arrogant satisfaction. “You’ve got the filthiest tongue, but you know how to make it say the sweetest things, don’t you, baby?”

“Only for you.”

“No one else?”

“No one else.”

The vampire’s eyes open slowly, head tilting to the side to assess her with sly amusement. “You wanna know how I can tell that’s the truth?”

Y/N’s joints are starting to ache due to the position he’s fixed her in, but she doesn’t mind the burn. It feeds into the appeal. “H-How?”

Harry leans forward, brushing his wet lips up her jaw, the tip of his cock spreading her open just a smidge. “Because every time I fuck you, you’re always so bloody tight. Means I’m the only one stretching out that snug little cunt.”

A broken whine escapes Y/N’s sore throat— courtesy of what had occurred the night prior— and she squirms in the brunette’s grip, trying to shimmy her way further down his length. She’s anxious to feel him fill her. “Deeper.”

“Pardon?”

“Go deeper. Want it all.”

Harry raises an eyebrow in impressed curiosity. “You want it all in one go? Don’t want me to prep you first?”

She shakes her head stubbornly, pushing back against him and succeeding in sinking an inch or so. Harry’s entire face hardens as she clenches around the head of his prick, attempting to ride down further to sedate her desperate need. He twists his fist tighter around the chain, his other hand coming up to grip her throat, forearm pressed between her breasts as he gets a decent hold to prepare for what’s to come.

“If it gets to be too much,” Harry dabs a gentle kiss onto her cheek; it’s to communicate the importance of the message amidst the tense atmosphere, “you know to tell me, right?”

“Mmhm.”

“Alright. Ready?”

“Always.”

Y/N nearly passes out. Even though she’s grown accustomed to Harry’s size and girth, it somehow never fails to shock her into a state of unexpected rapture. He just fits so well inside her— hits every nook and crevice like he was meant to touch every single one. That, combined with his unrelinquishing thrusts and sinful dirty talk...It’s enough to render anyone helpless. It’s certainly enough to have her shaking and screaming against his chest, and it’s definitely more than enough to drive her towards an orgasm that she knows will blow out her legs for at least the rest of the day.

Harry fucks into her just how she’d requested— rough and vehement. He presses her bare back to his chest by using the hold he has around her throat, her head falling backwards onto his shoulder as he pounds into her belly from behind. His other hand is braided into the chain between the cuffs, controlling how her body seizes up and gives way. She’s standing on the tips of her toes, legs spread open as much as her weak knees will support, scraggly breaths stuttering from her nose and mouth as shattered noises of ecstasy decorate the space the fading steam has left behind. Her hips are ramming forward against the rim of the counter, the marble knocking against her pubic bone to the point where she knows bruises will develop later on. She doesn’t mind it; she loves seeing the memories Harry brands onto her, whether that be in the form of hickies across her thighs, fingerprints over her waist, or his rings fanned out across the swell of her ass. She’ll take anything he’s willing to give.

The vampire is dismantling just as quickly as she is, obvious in the fractured growls and soft grunts he’s puffing against the side of her face. His pink-polished nails dig into her jugular, fingers twitching as her heartbeat hammers against his palm, sending vibration down his whole nervous system. His cock is slicking into her easily and it’s obvious the anticipation of what he had said during their bath had gotten to her; he can feel how wet she is with every stroke. It’s dripping down her quivering thighs and smearing all over his tiger head tattoo, damp slaps resonating from where her backside hits against his tinted pelvis.

Harry stares down hazily at where he’s spreading her open, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as tiny mewls itch along the back of his raw throat, her own sounds playing across his ears with each buck of his thighs. They float through the heavy air like a lullaby and he can confidently say he’d listen to her moans forever, if time allowed.

“I think it’s funny,” Harry starts with a comedic edge to his strained voice, mimicking the introduction Y/N had used the day before when they’d been in the jacuzzi, “that you’re always so willing to let me use you however I want. That you literally beg me to take you this hard. It’s almost pitiful, really, that you never had anyone fuck you right before I came along.”

The girl squirms in his arms, her hands flat against his abdomen, nails carving into his flesh. Her sentences come out cracked and almost pained. “I-I wish I’d met you sooner.”

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Harry grits against the shell of her ear, smirking when she worries her lower lip beneath her top teeth, trying to keep a tab on what he knows is probably an embarrassingly loud keen. “I bet you wish you’d had me back home, huh? Spent all your time fucking around with those vanilla small-town boys, never had a real man treat you the way you wanted. Bet you didn’t even like those pricks, did you, darling?”

Y/N shakes her head vigorously in response. “They were so boring. You’re so much better.”

She’s working his praise kink like a charm.

“Poor thing.” Harry scoffs sympathetically, running his grasp upwards until his thumb and forefinger rope around her jaw. He maneuvers her head into place, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror, hissing his words lowly. “Eyes up. See how pretty you look taking every last bit of that cock? And the way your tummy’s bulging? That’s how you know the sex is good— that’s how it’s supposed to look.”

Y/N gazes upon the image her friend is referring, her exhales hiccuping in her chest at the way an obvious bump rises in her belly every time he thrusts inside. Not only that, but Harry just looks incredible, as well, with his heavily inked arm flushed between her breasts, the art flexing to life as he yanks her down against his lap by her neck. She can see the sweat beading his hairline, his freshly-washed ringlets jumping to his movements as he groans into her scalp.

Y/N’s lips part in a silent moan and the immortal takes this chance to shove his first two fingers into her mouth, weighing them against her tongue and instructing her with a clear, deep accent. “Suck.”

She does so obediently, her cheeks hollowing as she gasps around the digits, swiveling to match his tempo. Between her glistening body, the needy expression painted across her appearance as she conforms to his every demand, and the way her walls are clinging to him like a vice as she eagerly licks and suckles at him…

Harry loses it.

“Fucking hell.” The monster unclamps the hand he has around her jugular and Y/N drops back down onto her heels, ankles quaking now that she has to carry her own weight. His palm finds refuge along the back of her skull instead, proceeding to shove her head down towards the counter, pulling at the cuffs to finagle her into a folded position. “Bend over.”

Y/N does as told, a small, “mm!” plucking at her vocal chords as Harry pushes her cheek down against the cold marble situated between his two sinks. He pins her head to the surface and she casts her attention upwards to try and get a peek of him through the glass. His eyes look unnaturally dark, though she can’t quite place the shade given her limited view.

The vampire makes sure the chain link is secured around his knuckles, proceeding to use the toy to bounce Y/N against his cock. He yanks her towards his torso until she thunks wetly against his base, using his hips to push her forward harshly and pulling out until his tip is barely grazing her entrance. He repeats this action over and over, weak whimpers spilling shamelessly from his plump ruby lips as he keeps her face fastened down, maintaining some form of consistent stability. Every fiber of his being sparks with bliss as he watches her jerk against the counter, back caving forward and causing her naked chest to bulge against the stone panel. One of these days, she’s going to drive him mental. He swears it.

“There’s a good girl, minx.” Harry’s head tips backwards, bobbing back and forth as his sticky chest heaves with the exertion of keeping him tethered to reality. “Take it just like that, yeah? God, you should see the way you’re so snug around me. Love that cock, don’t you? Say it. Tell me you love it.”

Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against the dip of her spine, nails digging into her palms. “I love your cock, Harry. I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking— oh!” He prods over her g-spot and she shudders below him. “Shit, keep going! Right there, right there, right there— oh my God!”

“Right here? Is that what’s gonna make my dirty little whore cum?” Harry grinds his teeth, ignoring the rouge curls falling into his furrowed brows, jabbing the spongy area with continuous plunges. “More? Look at how you’re shaking, baby. And you’re just so fucking wet. Absolutely soaked and... and fuck, that’s my sweet girl.”

The boy keeps delivering every plea she chokes out, his climax beginning to froth at the trench of his stomach and along the underside of his balls. A familiar glow starts to pour into his dormant veins. “I’m almost there, dove. Gonna fill you up until it runs down your thighs.”

“Y-You’re so good, I can’t fucking— I’m gonna—”

“Beg for it. Beg for Daddy, princess.”

Y/N does so with no remorse, confessing to him how much she wants his load, telling him that she needs to feel him spill inside her all warm and thick and heavy. A dark, open-mouthed smirk adorns Harry’s features as he fucks a throbbing ache between her thighs, feeling his mind completely slip. He may be damned with eternal life, but in this instant, the immortal feels like he touches heaven.

Then, that moment of pure euphoria is stripped away by the sound of his front door clicking open.

Harry’s eyes snap awake, all his motions coming to an abrupt halt. He shushes a protesting Y/N quietly, tuning his heightened hearing to make sure he hadn’t imagined the sound.

But no, it’s very much real. It’s followed by the noise of the lock clanking back into its hole, and then three pairs of footsteps begin echoing down the hallway that leads to his living room. He recognizes every single one and unhinged rage suddenly flares around his pupils, potent and bright red. If Y/N wasn’t in such a compromisable position, he wouldn’t have gotten away with that slip-up.

“Christ, you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”

Harry carefully withdraws himself from between the mortal’s legs, wincing a bit at the loss of suction and feeling a spoonful of guilt stem from the disappointed whine Y/N sobs. His swollen, leaking cock sways lightly as he takes a cautious step back, testing to see if he’s capable of moving without face-planting the ground. His mind is misty and he’s obviously drenched in the pungent scent of sex, but other than that, he reckons he can manage just fine. Especially with the newfound anger coursing through his nerves— a direct result of the unexpected trio of intruders chatting nonchalantly on the floor below.

Harry stumbles towards the exit of the bathroom, knees wobbly and head spinning, an unsatisfied gnawing toiling in his groin. He needs to get that taken care of as soon as possible, but he can’t until he gets rid of the three morons milling around his foyer. He snatches his cherry blossom silk robe from the hook on the wall, wrapping it around himself tightly and making sure to cover all his assets to prevent any mishaps.

He glances up at a pouting Y/N as he ties off the ribbon around his waist, walking back and helping her onto her unstable feet, cooing apologetically. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I heard some visitors come in downstairs ‘cause, apparently, they don’t understand the concept of privacy. This is the last time I’m trusting anyone with an extra key.”

The girl leans back against one of the sinks, blinking up at him emptily as he thumbs over her chin in comfort. Her voice is hardly audible, raw with exhaustion. “How...How did you know they were here? I didn’t hear them come in...”

Harry pauses for a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly and pecking her on the nose to insert a distraction. He throws some humor into the mix as well, wanting to steer the conversation to safe grounds, opting for using a bit of compulsion to get the job done. His pupils dilate as his sentences swim around her head in a soothing voice, heavy with persuasion. “I heard the door slam shut. I guess you were a little too busy screaming my name to notice.”

Y/N’s pupils expand to match his, her face going slack as the supernatural magic sews into her thoughts and molds her perspective to his story. Her lashes flutter in mild confusion, brows cinching as her brain recalibrates itself. The creases in her forehead dissolve as all of her doubt melts away, the corners of her plump lips quirking at his snarky remark. “I guess so.”

“Can’t blame you, though.” Harry taps at her bottom lip cheekily, shrugging his brows. “I was giving it to you pretty good.”

“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” Y/N rolls her foggy eyes, but she can’t hide the way her heartbeat spikes— not from him. Then, her face suddenly wracks with embarrassment, eyes shattering with humiliated realization. “Oh my God, that means they probably heard everything…”

Oh, they definitely heard everything, Harry thinks. They’ve got nothing better to do other than pry.

He nurses her downcast face with his cold palm, one shoulder rising and falling casually to show it’s no big deal. “Don’t worry about it, hm? I’m gonna go kick them out, anyways, so you won’t have to deal with it.”

The pet name and his kind gesture eases her woes a bit, but not much. “Still. I’m never showing my face in public ever again.”

Now it’s the vampire’s turn to roll his eyes at her theatrics. “Just stay here, yeah? It’ll only take a second, and then…” Her friend gives her naked body a suggestive once-over, licking at the corner of his mouth. “Then we can finish what we started.”

Y/N kicks at his ankle, jokingly chastising him for his wandering gaze as she fiddles with her fingers within the handcuffs. “Just go.”

The moment Harry’s bare feet step off the last rung of his staircase, he begins spewing venom at the three imbeciles standing around at the mouth of his entrance corridor.

“Are you fucking dense?” He stomps up towards the group of young men with balled fists and bristling irises, all his spite trained on Mitch. “I told you I was busy! That suggests that you should’ve stayed away for the weekend! It meant, ‘leave me alone,’ not ‘come to my flat unannounced.’”

“Yeah, we know you’re busy.” Niall boasts with a loud scoff, shaking his head as an afterthought. “I think the whole building knows, at this point.”

The Irish bloke grabs Xander, who catches onto what the man is doing and happily takes a part in the action. He bends over while Niall grasps onto his shoulders and begins to mimic thrusting, arching his back forward and shaking his ass. He sucks one of his fingers into his mouth, moaning profusely to add authenticity to their vulgar reenactment. “Oh, Harry! Right there, don’t stop!”

Niall drops his voice a few octaves for symbolism, putting on a shitty British accent as he bucks against Xander’s backside. “Yeah, baby, you like that? Like it right there? Tell me how much you love that cock.”

Harry’s jaw clenches as he tries to ignore them, refusing to give rise to their taunting. The two boys break into a puddle of giggles at his expense, nudging each other triumphantly and eventually dying down. Harry isn’t normally the type of person to daydream about violence— why would anyone partake in something so barbaric when dismantling an enemy psychologically is so much better?— but he finds himself fantasizing about tearing Niall and Xander’s hands off and using them as ping-pong paddles.

Mitch shifts his body towards his best friend, arms crossed loosely with an expression of sheer amusement painted across his bearded face, seeming undisturbed by Harry’s rampage and deadly grimace. “It’s nice to see you, too, H.”

The younger vampire takes a measured inhale, swallowing down the urge to rip the older man’s mustache clean off. He directs his next sentence at all of them, glaring intently as his voice comes out flat and harsh. “Get out.”

Niall raises his palms in peaceful surrender, proceeding to use an index finger to signal hastily between his impromptu porno co-star and himself. “Don’t look at us, this was Mitch's idea. We just came along.”

“None of you should have come at all.” Harry spits, tightening his lean arms over his chest, biceps rippling under the thin silk of his elegant robe. “What do you want?”

A soft giggle suddenly bursts from Xander and he momentarily slaps his hand over his mouth to muddle it, but his eyes continue to dance with mirth. “Sorry, I just can’t take you seriously in that.” He juts his chin towards Harry’s pajamas. “I think my grandmother had one just like it.”

“Yeah, I stole this from her place right after I pissed on her grave.” The brunette snaps with an exaggerated smile, feeling a flare of evil satisfaction at the way Xander’s grin immediately plops. Niall snorts loudly and tries to cover it up, but it fails and he is left having to brace the brunt of the other boy’s contempt.

Harry turns back to face Mitch while the other two immortals bicker, now aware that he is the mastermind behind this entire coup. “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you have left for Vegas already?”

“Yeah, we should have.” He answers pointedly with a soft, dejected sigh. Harry has to keep himself from casting his gaze away in guilt.

The annual trip had been a tradition he and Mitch had started in the nineties, just them two. As their group had expanded, so had the attendant list, and now it was something special their whole clique did together to put some extra excitement— something stable to look forward to— into the endless years they had ahead. No one had missed out on the trip in the last thirty years, especially not willingly, and no one ever thought Harry— the co-founder of the event— would be the one to break that streak. He can tell Mitch is upset.

“I’m sorry.” Harry mumbles, squeezing at the inside of his elbows and putting as much genuine emotion into his demeanor as possible. “It just slipped my mind and I made another commitment that I can’t bail on. But it won’t happen again, I promise. Betsy swear.”

Mitch’s downturned lips jolt slightly at the mention of his old bayonet. He had kept the weapon after the American Revolution had ended, as a tribute to the old life he was leaving behind after he transitioned, naming it fondly after his mother. With all of that history taken into appeal, it’s no wonder the item means a lot to him. That is exactly why the two best friends had developed a dynamic around it.

They would tie an oath to the object in order to ensure it would be kept, and if the promise was broken, the other would get to stab the traitor with it. The game had been something Mitch and Harry had conjured up decades ago while under the influence of some very strong psychedelics, but it had stuck, for some reason. It’s simply a playful inside joke, and though it’s a tad gruesome, it’s hardly an issue considering they both self-heal quickly. Any damage inflicted is equivalent to that of a rubber band snapping against their skin, so in the end, no harm, no foul. At its core, it’s just a vampire’s version of a pinky swear, hence the term, “Betsy swear.” Harry had thought about getting it patented, at one point.

The jade-eyed boy feels a weight lift off his shoulders as Mitch indulges one of his signature quiet chuckles. “Alright, fine. Betsy swear, then. The reason we’re here is ‘cause I wanted to check up on you before we left, and ‘cause I wanted to make sure you switched the reservation. You never got back to me about it.”

“Oh, my bad. I got it done, though. Everything should check out.” Harry reassures, waving away his visitor’s doubt. He’d tended to the job last night after Y/N fell asleep and he meant to send a confirmation text, but forgot when the mortal had begun to stir randomly. He’d had to put away his phone and pretend to be unconscious for a few minutes until her agitation melted away, resulting in the deed going undone, courtesy of the mild panic that had dulled his memory. “Why didn’t you just text me about it?”

Mitch gives him a deadpan look, pursing his lips to fight off an entertained grin. “Oh, I did. Multiple times, actually. But I reckon you were too busy with the treadmill to notice.”

The older creature’s reference works as intended, an irritating flush crawling up Harry’s neck and pouring into his ears, garnering a fit of cackles on his companion’s behalf.

“Fuck off.” Harry grumbles as he shoves Mitch’s shoulder, but the insult is hard to take seriously when he’s wrestling a smirk of his own.

“Is it the girl from the club?” The lanky man inquires curiously, tilting his head to the side with an impressed air. “It’s been, what, four weeks now? That’s a record, I think. You’ve never kept one around that long.”

“What can I say, the sex is good.” Harry shrugs easily, tucking a couple of rebellious curls away from his eyes, which gleam crimson red as a supporting factor to his next comment. “And the blood is even better.”

Mitch rolls his irises playfully. “Alright, Casanova, pipe down.” He glances over his friend’s rumpled appearance, taking in the slightly damp skin, wild hair, and the plethora of faded hickies peeking through the boy’s robe, littering his chest and collarbones. “She’s got you on a tight leash, I see.”

“It’s only fair, considering she spends most of that time in my handcuffs. Quid pro quo and all that.” Harry quips back, bursting into laughter when Mitch gags dramatically.

“You know you could’ve just brought her along, right?” Mitch suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets. “We each have our own rooms, remember? No one would get in the way of your little late night jogs. Though I can’t say the same for the other hotel guests. She’s not necessarily subtle.”

Harry presses his tongue along the inside of his cheek coyly. “It’s not my fault I’m good in bed. It’s a curse, really. Could never get away with dressing room sex.”

He contemplates Mitch's offer for a second. He thinks it could be a fun time, but then he recalls that the trip to Vegas is a week-long party, which Y/N can’t indulge because she works a regular nine-to-five. Plus, a human in a car full of vampires sounds like the introduction to an ominous joke. Something is bound to slip, especially because no one in the crew is used to having humans around outside of meal hours. He doesn’t want the responsibility of constantly having to wipe her brain.

Aside from that, most of the vampires that mill around Vegas aren’t as cultured as Harry’s friends. They lack restraint, a conscience, and fear of consequences, given that the city’s crazy reputation provides the perfect cover for all those dangerous behaviors. That makes them deadly predators to someone as trusting and unsuspecting as Y/N, and having to continuously protect her would be too much of a hassle. It’s supposed to be a vacation; the last thing he needs is for it to turn into an episode of Shark Week. It’s best to stay put.

Harry shakes his head after a minute, clearing his throat. “But I think I’m good. Bringing along a human isn’t worth all the trouble she might cause. Thank you, though.”

Mitch bobs his head in understanding, well aware of the problems Harry is alluding to. “You have a point.” He pauses for a second in thought, shaking his head at the idea of having to deal with the insanity that surrounds their Vegas siblings. “I guess I’ll just see you next week, then, yeah? Better get going.”

The younger vampire mirrors his nod, opening his arms for a hug, which Mitch gladly takes. He’s not one for affection, that much is clear, but he makes certain exceptions here and there, and of course his friends file under that category. And every now and then, Y/N does too.

“See you next week.” He pulls away from the embrace with a hard pat to Mitch’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Send tons of pictures, okay? And videos of Niall getting shitfaced. I need new blackmail content.”

“Will do.” Mitch squeezes his best friend’s shoulders tightly, beaming at him in return. He then cranes towards his two fellow guests, whistling to gain their attention from the passionate conversation they seem to be having about Harry’s robe. “Time to head out, Bonnie and Clyde.”

“Who’s who?” Niall questions childishly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I think I should be Clyde. Xander has Bonnie vibes.”

“No I don’t!”

“Yes, you do.” The Irish boy reasons, cocking his head knowingly. “You seem like the type who would cheat on a murderer with another criminal from the same jail. You’ve got a knack for drama, like most women.”

Xander crosses his arms stubbornly. “No, I don’t.”

“You do, actually.” Harry butts in, eyes twinkling slyly as the group starts to wander towards the exit. He decides to get revenge for the teasing from earlier. “You moan just like one, too.”

Xander blushes bright red, diving into the shadow of the corridor to avoid any more ridicule. “I’m leaving.”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

The other vampires laugh as they follow behind Harry’s ex-fling, waving their final goodbyes. As soon as the front door echoes shut, the immortal turns on his heel and heads back towards the glass stairs, beginning to undo the silk ribbon knotted around his hips.

He’s got his own partner in crime to attend to.

///

That night, Y/N and Harry end up bidding each other farewell in the corridor of his condo.

That seems to be a common theme in their relationship, he’s come to find. It’s usually the entrance to her own apartment instead of his, but the motif is there, nonetheless: They always end up meeting in a hallway, every single time.

“Thanks for having me over.” Y/N murmurs in her signature gentle dialect, smiling delicately as she skids the toe of her sneaker against the ground of the carpet outside his door, trying to keep the butterflies in her tummy tame. It was an incredible two days— maybe the best weekend she’s ever had, if she’s being honest. “I had a lot of fun.”

Harry leans his bare shoulder against his threshold, clad in nothing but a pair of royal blue boxers and black ankle socks, freely showing off the collection of love bites and scratches Y/N had so kindly finished gifting him a few hours ago. She’d gone wild the second he’d unlocked the metal cuffs and he’s more than happy with the results.

The stains speckle his broad chest and the expanse of his taut neck, dark and obvious beneath the complex’s buttery lighting. Bruises trace down his stomach and across his ribs, a neat row of four hickies centered vertically between his two fern inkings. They disappear suggestively under the elastic band of his underwear and she can feel flashes of heat layer across her cheeks, her mind recalling all the filthy sounds he’d made when she had created them.

The human peels away from the artwork that is Harry’s marked torso, glancing around nervously at the fact that some stranger might see the fruit of their actions. The vampire’s lips twitch at her concern; it baffles him how she can be such a devil in between the sheets, but such a shy, reserved angel in every other aspect. It’s cute.

Harry reaches forward and takes her warm fingers into his larger hand, thumbing over her knuckles appreciatively as his irises glitter smugly amidst his lashes, a smirk stringing his pillowy mouth. “We always have a lot of fun.”

Y/N squeezes his palm playfully, gnawing into her cheek and humming in agreement. “That, we do.”

A moment of comfortable silence suspends the air between them, the only sound being the faint footsteps of people on the levels above and below, alongside the light skidding of the elevator as it delivers patrons to their destinations. Harry is the first to speak up again.

“What was your favorite part?”

Y/N blinks up at him blankly, slightly startled at the random question, but moreso at being put on the spot.

“Oh, uh…” She laughs shakily, struggling to recall everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. There had been so much bare skin and desperate tongues involved, she can hardly pick through her memories without her ears prickling. “I think...I think the shower was my favorite. It was nice and relaxing. Helped me unwind.”

Harry nods in recognition, turning through the pages in his mind and skimming through the instance she’s referring. “It was pretty nice, yeah. You look good in a soap beard.”

Y/N scoffs at his joking compliment. “Thanks. I’ll grow it out more often. Just for you.”

The young man reaches up and grips over his chest in fake passion, face contorted into a wistful expression. “That’s all I ask.”

The pair break into childish giggles and the sensation of Harry rubbing across the top of her hand is starting to make her head fuzzy. “What about yours? What was your favorite?”

Harry mulls over his own topic for a few seconds, lips puckering in thought as his eyes narrow pensively. The comically adorable picture makes Y/N’s heart skip.

“I think…” Harry lists his gaze downwards back onto his patiently-awaiting friend, lips spreading into his patented dazzling smile. “I think it was probably the Hamilton reenactment.”

Y/N brows jump, mood slightly unconvinced. “Really?”

The vampire nods confidently, his own eyebrows inching upwards, voice amused. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

Y/N shrugs offhandedly, glimpsing down at where the ridges of his thumb are delivering soothing shots of bliss into her veins. “You’re just so...y’know...you… so I guess I just expected you’d have a preference for the more…” She chooses her next words carefully, not wanting to be so brazen with the risk of someone overhearing, “...intimate parts of the weekend.”

“Wow, okay. Just call me a whore to my face, then. That’s fine.”

Y/N throws her free hand upwards in a fist, slugging Harry on the shoulder with appalled shock overtaking her features. His boyish chuckles echo off the walls of the building as she whips her head around to make sure no one had witnessed his dirty bluntness. “You know what I mean!”

“Yeah.” He purposefully raises his voice, nearly shouting the following sentence just to get on her nerves. “You’re slut-shaming me!”

Y/N surges forward, trying to clamp her hand over his mouth and save herself the embarrassment. “Harry, shut up!”

He easily fights her off, his supernatural strength beating hers tenfold. She ends up wrapped in his embrace, flushed against his hard chest as he sticks his tongue out at her mockingly. He drops his tone back down to normal, his two front teeth digging into his lower lip to keep more laughter from bubbling over. “That’s not nice. You should stop conforming to society’s outdated ‘sex is taboo’ narrative.”

“I wasn’t—” Y/N starts insistently, but then she realizes she’s become almost as loud as him so she forces her voice to taper into an alarmed hiss instead. “I wasn’t slut-shaming you! I was simply expressing—”

“You just see me as a toy, don’t you?” The creature cuts her off, lips dipping downwards into a glorified frown. He proceeds to bat his lashes and sniffle, packing as many theatrics as possible into his mopey act. “I have feelings, y’know? My big dick and cunnilingus skills aren’t my only redeeming qualities! You should be ashamed of yourself for objectifying me like that.”

Y/N presses her lips together to ward off an immature grin, rattling her head to get herself under control. She gives him a stern look, warning him to cut it out. “Stop being a child.”

“Stop using me for sex and making derogatory assumptions about my promiscuity.”

“Oh, hop of it! You use me right back. It’s mutual.”

“Which is why the slut-shaming is such a paradox.”

“For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t fucking— You know what? You can’t even pin me on the objectification part because you do it to me all the time!”

“Oh, is that so?” Harry prods with a humorous tilt of his head, squeezing at her love handles and swimming in the way she wriggles around. “Elaborate.”

“When you slapped my ass in the shower. Or when you put your hand under my shirt to play with my chest while we watch TV.” Y/N debates, poking at the thorax of his butterfly tattoo. “Very objectifying, if you ask me.”

“Mm, not quite, darling.” The vampire shakes his head and draws her closer, ducking down to flirt the tip of his nose along the slope of hers. “There’s a difference.”

“Oh, yeah?” She digs her nails into his pectorals, discreetly savoring the strong muscles. “What is it?”

Harry glimpses down at where she’s carving indents into his flesh, enjoying the minute pain more than he should. He drifts his mouth closer towards her ear, inhaling the scent of his shampoo wafting from her silky strands of hair. “The difference is that you’re usually begging me to do all those things.”

Y/N’s teeth grind in begrudging defeat, her spine giving a surrendered shiver at his crude point. “Whatever.”

Harry releases her body, haughty victory written all over his posture. “I rest my case.”

Y/N’s pride blazes, a threat falling from her tongue sharply, but it holds no true intentions. “Maybe I should just stop asking you to, then.”

“You won’t.” The boy sighs airily, tapping his bare foot against the ground without a care in the world. “You like me too much.”

“Even if I like you, I’d have enough dignity to stop seeing you if I wanted.” Y/N huffs, making a face at him to emphasize her stance. “It’s this little thing called ‘willpower.’”

“Yeah, well, we both know you and your willpower are gonna end up texting my number Friday night, asking me to come over for some more interior design advice.” Harry snarkily dismisses, presenting a scenario where he’s holding an invisible phone in his hands, pretending to tap out a message. His voice comes out high-pitched, mimicking her own. “Hey, one of the rungs on my headboard came loose. Can you come help me fix it?”

Y/N stares at him with eyes half-lidded in pettiness. “I don’t sound like that.”

“You’re right. You’re a tad more nasally.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m just calling it like I see it, love.”

Y/N socks him on the shoulder again as retribution, though it barely has an impact.

After a couple heartbeats full of vengeful silence, Y/N chimes up with a jesting tone, though the manner in which she’s picking at her nails tells Harry she’s slightly anxious. “Hypothetically speaking, if I were to send out a text inviting you to come over Friday...would you?”

A lopsided simper pops the immortal’s dimples awake. He shifts on his feet, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. “Hypothetically speaking, I think I could very well make it.”

Y/N chews on her lower lip as the apples of her cheeks jolt. “Ok, well...Let’s say— once again, hypothetically— that I should be home by eight that day. Would that work for you?”

Harry cocks his head from side to side as if churning the offer around his mind. “I think that, hypothetically, that fits right into my schedule.”

The human’s belly flops in giddy excitement. “Great. It’s booked, then. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Of course.” Harry agrees, the reply accompanied by a teasing furrow of his sculpted brows and a curt nod.

Y/N clasps her hands in front of her thighs with finality, giving him a bright smile. “Alright, then. I’ll see you next week.”

“Next week.” Harry confirms with a cheeky wink, running his tongue along his top teeth to keep from bursting into giggles. “Hypothetically.”

“Hypothetically.” Y/N states with a slight bow of her head, tucking one hand into the back pocket of her dark jeans as she takes a step back from the front door with a small wave. She turns on her heel to face the elevator at the other end of the hall, her foot lifting to take the first step towards the exit.

“Wait.”

The mortal looks back towards her friend, eyebrows poised in question.

Harry scratches at the nape of his neck, smiling softly. “I could really go for a goodbye kiss. Not-so-hypothetically.”

Y/N blinks at him in wonder. He’s never asked for one before.

The awkward aura that quickly fills the space between them becomes suffocating. He considers the option of telling her he was just joking to spare himself the humiliation, but he doesn’t get the chance. Y/N lurches forward, teetering onto the tips of her toes and buttoning her lips to his. The spontaneous action makes him swallow his words.

He fumbles to cup her jaw, kissing her back with just as much fervor and feeling the coldness of his skin fizzle away under her inherent warmth. The gesture isn’t sexual or desperate, but simply sweet and fulfilling. He enjoys it, though it’s not surprising given that he enjoys her lips touching him in any and every way imaginable. He’s not exactly sure why he’d made this particular request— it’s very out of character for him, in every sense of the phrase— but he deduces it’s likely because he wants one more thing to cling onto until he gets to feel her mouth again. It’s not uncommon to want a little something extra to get through the tougher nights, so it’s truly not that big of an occurrence. It’s only reasonable.

Y/N breaks their exchange, eyes glassy and so beautifully clear as she pecks his chin one last time in a polite farewell. “Text me if you need me...And especially if you need me.”

Harry gulps thickly at the suggestive statement, nodding numbly as her body heat slips away. “Will do. Thanks. And thanks for the kiss. Needed it to tide me over until Friday.”

“My pleasure. See you later, Holmes.”

Harry waits patiently until Y/N’s figure disappears behind the gilded doors of the fancy elevator, watching the closed slates of metal glint coldly under the blurry lighting of the condominium’s corridor. He walks back into his apartment, shutting the door gently and slouching into the plush cushions of his leather sofa with a detached sigh. He gazes up at his extravagant chandeliers, once again left in the empty solitude he’d grown so fond of in his extensive lifetime. There’s not a single sound or motion invading his seclusion, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his rug, and everything is so still and quiet, it’s almost deafening. But despite every aspect being as it should, he can’t shake the sensation that something is off. Something is wrong. Something’s missing.

And for the first time in years, he finds himself feeling more lonely than alone.

///

It only takes Harry about an hour of uneventful isolation to realize he’s made a grave mistake.

He should have gone on the trip.

Despite the fact that the vampire lives alone, he very rarely spends any time without seeing his friends. Since they all reside in the same building, it’s fairly easy for him to find some entertainment whenever boredom strikes. He’ll either go up a floor to Mitch’s place to watch a movie or mess around with his collection of vintage guitars, or he’ll go a level below to visit Adam and talk about any new art exhibits opening up around the area. He could visit Niall three floors above to play some FIFA on his gaming console and share porn recommendations, or even take the elevator to the twelfth floor to bother Xander and talk some shit while they do each other’s nails. And if Harry’s feeling extra needy for attention, he could always just invite them all over to his place so the group could go out for some Thai food at the restaurant down the street, or go see a movie at the cinema, or take a ride to their favorite local bar.

No matter the circumstances, his friends are always readily available for him when he needs them, so he very solemnly spends his days alone. That is, until now.

The entire crew had left for the Vegas trip and— as a result of his own irresponsibility and immature hormones— had left him all by himself for the next seven days. He would never admit it aloud to spare himself the ridicule of being overly sappy, but he misses the group. He misses Mitch’s soft voice and quiet wittiness, and he misses Adam’s cheeky banter and random fun facts, and he misses Niall’s inappropriate jokes and boisterous laughter, and he even misses Xander’s annoying digs and childish pettiness. He didn’t know how much he took it all for granted until it was gone.

For the rest of the week, Harry is practically miserable. The guys don’t text him much, which can be expected since the whole point of the holiday is to enjoy every second of it; there would be no point in traveling four hours just to sit in their hotel and message him. He talks to Y/N a bit, but she is also occupied most of the time with work, given that she had to take on a few extra shifts on behalf of her co-workers. The earliest she goes in is six A.M., the latest she comes out is nine P.M., and by then, Harry reckons she’s probably falling asleep in the entrance corridor of her home. He understands her exhaustion and therefore doesn’t expect her to humor him; it wouldn’t be fair.

With everyone in his life busy and with his flat feeling colder and emptier than ever, it’s a miracle he doesn’t go mad within its walls. He goes out a handful of times to do some grocery shopping, for a run around a nearby park, and to take a walk along his favorite mall, but that’s it, really. He doesn’t go out to eat simply because he thinks it would be embarrassing having to sit alone at a restaurant; it’s pitiful and sad and he’s not going to subject himself to that. The most stimulating social interaction he has that week is a tie between a bit of flirting with a Target cashier, some suggestive gazing exchanged with a Starbucks barista, and a couple of cheeky caresses from a Gucci store employee taken while measuring his waist for a custom order. None of it satisfies him the way it normally does, though, and he can’t place why.

By the time Friday evening rolls around, Harry is a hair short from letting his regular case of stir-crazy slip into a full-on psychotic break. That’s why he ends up at Y/N’s complex earlier than the agreed-upon hour, stepping out of his Cadillac with twenty minutes left to spare and with a certain desperation eating away at the back of his skull.

The creature casually jogs up the worn steps to her floor, the only sound being the heels of his maroon velvet boots clicking against the cement ground. He whistles softly to the vague tune of a new pop song that had been playing on the radio— Wet Ass something?— as he tucks his phone into his pocket and brushes a few traces of lint off his freshly-ironed button-up.

His outfit for tonight is nothing too spectacular, but it isn’t too lazy, either. It’s a long-sleeve black silk shirt with glass buttons and a pair of large swallows embroidered along either sides of his chest, the threads dyed royal and pastel blue, cherry red, and creamy yellow. The top is cuffed up his elbows and unbuttoned down to his butterfly tattoo, showing off his naturally tanned skin and matching swallow inkings, the cross on his delicate chain centered between his pecs and twinkling under the flickering lights. He’d coupled the loose blouse with some black skinny jeans, a dark leather belt, a small golden hoop earring, and his trusty collection of rings and necklaces. In his opinion, it’s a proper look for a planned-out booty call. Formal, but easy to rip off. Especially in a blind hurry.

Harry figures that he’ll check to see if Y/N is home, just to cover the bases. If she isn’t, he’ll tred back down the stairs and wait for her in his car. If she is, then that’s all the better; there’s no damage in starting a bit earlier than scheduled. It makes for a better recoup period between rounds.

The immortal turns the corner into the familiar hallway where Y/N’s flat is located, one of his hands already forming into a loose fist with the intention of knocking on her door. He makes it about five paces before he’s slapped with an image that causes him to stop cold in his tracks, his whistling coming to an abrupt halt.

Harry blinks repeatedly and lowers the frame of his pink Gucci sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, wanting to make sure the scene before him isn’t a figment of his imagination. Much to his displeasure, it isn’t.

About three meters ahead, situated right in front of her door with her back facing towards him, is Y/N. That isn’t the odd aspect of the picture, though. What’s odd is that her usual grimy work attire is missing, which he had expected to see given that he knows she always goes to the cafe on Fridays. Instead, she is clad in the pastel blue floral sundress she had worn for him all those weeks back, when they had slept together for the second time. And instead of wearing her scuffed up Vans, she is wearing a pair of pretty tan sandals. And instead of having her hair up in a frizzy ponytail, it’s down and fanned around her shoulders in a glossy sheen of tousled curls. And she’s wearing perfume— the same one she had worn the night they met. He can smell it from here and it makes his brows furrow in confusion. She never wears perfume to work; she says it’s forbidden since it can make customers nauseous.

But aside from all of those unorthodox details, there is one specific factor above all that throws Harry for the biggest loop he’s encountered in the last five weeks of knowing her.

Y/N isn’t alone. She’s accompanied by another man.

Harry gives the stranger a calculating once-over, taking in every aspect of the boy’s appearance. He has to keep himself from sputtering into laughter. This has to be some type of fucking joke.

The bloke is fit, he’ll give him that, at least. He’s handsome and somewhat muscular, but in a manner that is painfully cliche and utterly boring. He has sandy blonde hair that falls across his forehead in a shaggy sideways bang, eyes the color of a Malibu beach, and generally soft features with the exception of decent cheekbones. He’s wearing a dull orange polo, khaki pants, Levi sneakers, and an annoyingly giant watch on his wrist that gives the impression he’s trying to show off. Harry nearly vomits in his mouth.

Who the fuck would wear a polo willingly? And how brain dead does he have to be to think khakis are still in style? His fashion sense is obviously stunted. It appears his brain is stuck in his middle school phase, when the Justin Bieber haircut and douchey brands were all the rave amongst snotty pre-teens. Also, his watch is an embarrassment. Harry doesn’t know what the guy is attempting— and failing— to show off, considering the accessory is chunky and ugly and not even Versace or Rolex. It’s a disgrace.

As if the forced posh demeanor isn’t enough, the imbecile actually has the guts to have a fake tan. The vampire isn’t surprised, unfortunately, given that eighty percent of all Los Angeles residents think it’s acceptable to dip-dye themselves into a carrot. He faintly wonders if the man’s balls are colored, as well, or if his ass and sack are as pale as his personality probably is. That would be quite the comedic sight either way. Creamsicles for the win, he supposes.

Harry may not be alarmed by the blonde boy’s get-up, but he is disgusted. Thoroughly disgusted. Horrifically disgusted. What is Y/N doing with this moron?

According to what he’s gathered from her personality and the pillow talks they often share, she hates the California stereotype almost as much as he does, if not more. She hates the fake tans and bleached hair and lack of conscience. She hates the outdated teenage brands, cringey jewelry, and fraternity member aesthetic. She especially hates the fact that some of these people don’t understand the basic principles of boundaries. And the thing is, this dude-bro of a man definitely ticks all of those boxes— especially with how close he’s standing next to her, looming above her frame with one arm extended against the surface of her door, trying to look nonchalant and cool as he drawls on about whatever topic they’re discussing.

He’s practically the poster child for everything the girl despises, from the straightened hair to the alter boy church pants to the stupid forest tattoo on his forearm. So what in the flying fuck is she doing entertaining him? What is she doing standing outside her apartment with this trashy, bacon strip-looking, youth leader knock-off, 2012 Bieber impersonator of a human?

It has to be a joke. It just has to. There’s no other valid explanation, except maybe a plea of insanity.

Harry doesn’t realize he’s scowling until the stranger makes eye contact with him. The boy’s face breaks into an expression of unsettled discomfort at the way the vampire is peering at him over his sunglasses, allowing his end of the conversation to falter to dust. Y/N’s brows cinch at the occurrence, her attention peeling away to follow where her date’s had wandered.

The second her gaze locks with Harry’s intense own, she feels her heart drop to her stomach. Fuck.

Let it be known Y/N didn’t want this. She didn’t want to go on a date with Jacob. In fact, she didn’t know who Jacob was until halfway through this week and she honestly wishes it had stayed that way. She wishes she hadn’t picked up Melissa’s shift with Isabel, she wishes she hadn’t offered to wait that extra table in the back out of the kindness in her heart, and she wishes she hadn’t caught the attention of the customer inhabiting it.

As it turns out, the young man was Isabel’s cousin. He had come to pick her up since the girl’s car had been stuck at the shop for the last few days, and he had arrived a bit earlier than intended, deciding to sit at the back table to wait out the final ten minutes of his relative’s shift. Y/N had simply assumed that he was a regular customer, so she had gone to give him the usual trained introduction in order to follow the golden rule of customer service: Don’t keep a guest waiting.

Jacob had explained the situation to Y/N, to which she responded with a light laugh and an instinctive apology. She had told him she’d go fetch Isabel for him and bid the boy goodbye. In her rational opinion, she had thought that would be it— a simple crossing of two paths that would likely never cross again— but evidently, the visitor had a very different idea.

The human’s shift had continued as planned and everything had been going great until Isabel ducked into the kitchen right before leaving, dancing her way across the room and poking her coworker playfully in the tummy. Apparently, from what Isabel had giddily told her, Jacob had taken an interest in Y/N. It was a bit ridiculous, if you asked her, considering they’d only talked for a total of about thirty seconds before parting routes. But Y/N hadn’t voiced that opinion; she didn’t want to come off as rude.

Jacob had asked his cousin to set them up on a date and that is why Isabel had gone into the back before leaving. Y/N’s immediate impulse had been to decline. She wasn’t interested in seeing anyone at the moment. Other than Harry, of course. He handled all her needs just fine and they got on so well, she’d be crazy to replace him with some random guy she barely knew. She had gone to express this to Isabel in a gentler manner with an apologetic tone, but the words had ended up lodging in her throat. The girl had stared at Y/N with so much excitement, she’d immediately felt a wave of guilt erupt into her chest.

She found it difficult to refuse, given that turning down the offer might come off as bitchy and insensitive. Here Isabel was, trying to innocently play match-maker on behalf of someone she cared about, buzzing with glee and smiling at her so big, her cheeks probably hurt. The last thing Y/N wanted was to upset her by basically telling her that Jacob wasn’t up to par with her standards. Rejecting him could be something her acquaintance took personally and Y/N didn’t want to have to deal with drama in the workplace, especially not with someone whose shifts often mirror her own.

Y/N had reluctantly agreed to the invitation, her only request being that she had to be home by seven thirty. That would give her enough time to prepare for Harry’s visit.

Her compliance had landed her where she is now, standing in front of her apartment door with a boy she has no interest in.

It had been a terrible date, though Jacob took no notice of that. He spent the entire dinner talking about himself, going on and on about his college years, and about how he works at a popular surf shop and could probably get her discounted lessons, and about how he doesn’t think he could survive without his Jeep. How he plays guitar and wants to be a famous actor, how he doesn’t understand why people dislike fake tanning, and how his dad owns a country club in South Carolina. How he loves sports, how he thinks museums are dumb, and how he likes girls who are willing to cook for him after they hookup. How he loves going clubbing and that he misses his ex.

Y/N had nearly groaned out loud at the last two.

It was cruel and unusual torture, in all honestly, and Y/N is just glad it’s over. She’d fulfilled her role— she’d even been nice enough to dress up, to at least finge interest— and could now go free, never having to hear another word about surfboard wax or college football ever again. If only he’d fucking leave.

Jacob had insisted on walking her to the door, which would be sweet if she hadn’t developed a burning hatred for him in the last hour. It came off as annoying and pushy instead, but she allowed it on the grounds of maintaining a polite front.

She shouldn’t have allowed it. As soon as they’d gotten to her door, he’d started talking all over again and Y/N had no choice but to stand there and listen. She couldn’t go anywhere, given that this is her place and she’s expecting someone. She figured she’d give him until seven fifty and then make up an excuse about having to go to the bathroom in order to get him to piss off. That plan had crumbled when Harry had shown up twenty minutes early.

The look of inflamed shock that poses Harry’s handsome features makes her stomach curdle.

She hadn’t meant for him to see this. She’d only gone on the date to spare herself some petty trouble with a coworker. Nothing was bound to come of it, other than a free meal and a guilt-free conscience. It didn’t mean anything and she had no intention of letting it get in between what she and Harry have going. But from an outside perspective, she knows it looks much different.

The agreement they have isn’t exclusive by any means, but over the last five weeks, the pair have grown pretty comfortable with one another and had given connotations that they weren’t kindling other possible relationships. There’s a type of silent agreement between them that if they were to seek out other people, they would share that information with each other on the grounds of courtesy, friendship, and respect. But Y/N hadn’t said a word to spare him the baseless stress and now he’d run into her smack in the middle of what appears to be a very compromising situation; things aren’t looking good at all. It looks like she’s losing interest in Harry and couldn’t be bothered to tell him. It looks like she’s out for a replacement. It looks like she doesn’t care about their connection at all.

This is bad. This is really bad.

Y/N’s voice comes out as a shrill shriek of surprise, her body turning abruptly to fully face his rigid own. “Harry! Uh— hi!”

Harry blinks at her emptily for a moment and she can practically see the gears turning in his head. She can’t read his mind or his expression, but she reckons he’s probably trying to decide if he should follow through on their rendezvous or if he should just leave and never talk to her again. The idea of him choosing the latter makes her mouth go sour.

The vampire’s emerald irises flit back and forth between his friend and the unknown man behind her, trying to interpret the tone and texture of the circumstance. She’s obviously on a date, if her appearance is any indication, and it’s obviously coming to a close right now, exactly when he’s scheduled to arrive.

That’s the determining factor that helps him decide his next move.

Y/N had invited Harry over last Sunday, meaning that she had made their commitment first. This date had to have come into play later in the week, and she had purposefully planned it around their agreed hour in order to give him her undivided attention when the time came. If she had gone out with this guy and then rushed back home to get to him, that must mean she doesn’t plan on indulging another meeting with the stranger. She hadn’t cancelled his visit, either, so that also suggests she isn’t truly interested in this bloke. That makes sense...right?

But that still begs the question: Why had she gone out with him in the first place?

He knows he isn’t owed an explanation, but he also knows that Y/N isn’t the type of person who would just blindside him like this. She isn’t soulless— she’s sweet and caring and generous, so she would never drop him without any warning or consideration for his feelings. She’d never abandon him without telling him why. She’d never do anything that might run a chance of hurting him.

The immortal is more than aware he doesn’t have the right to be upset about it, either. Their arrangement is loose and open on both ends and he likes it that way. He likes that their relationship isn’t weighed down by commitment and monogamy; it gives him a sense of freedom and independence he’s known to thrive off of. It lets him be himself without playing her emotions, and without causing a ruckus in the plans she has for her new life. And he gets the same in return— he gets to have his needs attended without sacrificing his core beliefs. Their friends with benefits trope rides along the wings of an official bond, only giving them what they want and nothing they don’t, which is how it was meant to be. How it should be.

So why does seeing her with someone else make him feel sick to his stomach?

Harry shakes off the ball of contempt writhing in his chest, clearing the tightness from his throat and molding his expression into a facade of calm indifference. Jealousy is for idiots.

The vampire fully wraps his perched fingers around the rim of his sunglasses, removing them from the arch of his nose and tucking the shades along the collar of his shirt. He forces his feet to do their job, his lanky legs lurching forward and falling into a casual stride as he walks towards the two humans awaiting a response.

Harry comes to a stop beside the mortals, clasping his bejeweled hands behind his back and plastering a dazzling grin across his cheeks. He regards his friend with a slight bow of his head, voice airy and carefree as ever. “Hey, Y/N.”

She almost faints in relief. Thank God he’s not mad.

Y/N returns his smile, shoulders visibly relaxing. “It’s nice to see you.”

“S’nice to see you, too. Always such a…” He pauses, licking at the corner of his lips suggestively, giving her a knowing once-over that only she can interpret, “pleasure.”

The girl ignores the heat that immediately floods her cheeks. Of course he’s doing this in front of Jacob. Of course he’s peacocking. “Likewise.”

Harry trains his attention onto the young man before him, pursing his lips into a polite smile. As polite as he can muster, anyways. “And who’s this?”

Y/N blinks herself back into the present, quickly glancing away from Harry’s sharp jaw, though it doesn’t go unnoticed. He feels his ego swell a smidge.

“This is Jacob.” The human comments easily, signaling to him with an upturned palm. “He’s Isabel’s cousin. You remember Isabel, right? You met her at the club.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.” Harry murmurs, glimpsing up towards the ceiling to suggest he’s wracking his thoughts. He has a very vague recollection of the two girls he’d momentarily encountered the day he’d first met Y/N, but it’s hazy and unimportant.

He looks back down at her with sparkling irises, rosy lips twitching with amusement at his next words, knowing they’re going to have a favorable impact. “I guess I was just too distracted by you to pay much attention to anyone else.”

He can hear more blood rush into her face and the ecstasy it brings him is immeasurable. He cranes his sight back onto Jacob, who has the slightest crease in his brows at Harry’s compliment. Good. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The monster unclamps his hands and juts one out stiffly towards the mortal. “M’Harry. Good to meet you, mate.”

Jacob returns the gesture, grasping Harry’s hand firmly in a way the vampire knows is to try and establish dominance. It tickles him when humans try to be tough, especially because Harry could tear his arm right out of its socket as easily as he could lift a sheet of paper. The creature tightens his grip to match the man’s, purposefully putting a tad more strength in to make a silent point. He has to withhold the urge to crunch the boy’s fingers to dust.

They both release from the exchange and a wave of dark satisfaction trickles into Harry’s bones when he sees Jacob curl and stretch his digits in mild pain.

Y/N watches the whole scene with a breath trapped in her lungs. This feels surreal.

The blonde clears his throat softly, mouth jilting into an empty smile and it’s obvious he’s only doing it just to keep things civil. “Good to meet you, too. I take it you’re British?”

“Pure-bred.” Harry remarks proudly, shrugging his shoulders offhandedly as if it’s no big deal. His gaze slinks towards Y/N for a second, tongue pushing along the inside of his cheek smugly. “It works wonders with the ladies.”

A flicker of spite stains the blue in Jacob’s eyes and the vampire feels like his soul is ascending. This is fun.

“I can only imagine.” His opponent responds, voice somewhat strained as he directs his next question to the two friends. “So how do you know each other?”

Harry opens his mouth to make an arrogant comment along the lines of, “A club. A few drinks. Some amazing sex. Y’know, the usual.” but Y/N knows him well enough that she anticipates it, speaking over him loudly before he can even get a syllable out.

“We met at a club and hit it off really well. Been friends ever since.”

The immortal has to keep himself from adding something snarky to the end of her summary. He only does it because he can see a sharp warning flash across Y/N’s eyes. It’s wordless, but stern nonetheless: Don’t.

Harry swallows down his dig and feels it burn a hole in his stomach. Why is she protecting his feelings?

In all honesty, Y/N is only doing it out of kindness and nothing else. As annoying as Jacob may be, he doesn’t deserve to be embarrassed simply because Harry wants to feed his pride. It may be funny, but it’s pretty immature.

“Right.” Harry sighs happily, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Friends. Good friends. Close friends. Intimate friends.”

Y/N presses her lips into a straight line to keep herself in check. He’s trying to work her over and, unfortunately, he’s succeeding.

“That’s nice.” Jacob nods casually, the innuendo luckily going right over his head.

“Yeah, it is.” Harry states, eyes glinting mischievously as he quickly studies the man once again. He can’t help himself, he truly can’t. Not when this terribly-styled buffoon makes it so fucking easy. “I like your tan, by the way.”

The human looks down at his arms for significance, eyes brightening. “Thank you! I got it done at that new place in—”

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. Looks almost real.”

Jacob blinks blankly at the backhanded compliment. “Oh—?”

“I mean, it’s got a few streaks here and there and your left arm looks a little more orange, but I think—”

“Anyways!” Y/N swiftly cuts in, interrupting her friend’s judgmental spiel and directing her attention towards her date. “Harry and I were actually planning on going to see a movie, which is why I had to be home by seven-thirty— we do it every Friday. And the movie starts at eight and traffic’s a bitch, so that’s why I was in such a hurry to get home.”

Jacob nods slowly, giving her a sweet, understanding smile that makes Harry’s supernatural blood boil. “I see. Well, I—”

The vampire interrupts him once again, condescension flaring in his chest and dancing across the specks of amber surrounding his pupils. “Yeah, Y/N and I go to the theater every Friday. Recently, we’ve been going to the movies every single day of the weekend. And most times, we see several movies a night.”

Y/N’s jaw clenches at Harry’s barely-veiled insinuation. She tries to talk over him, but he beats her to the punch.

“Y’know what I’m talking about, right, Y/N?” He nudges her side playfully with his elbow, ignoring the way her eyes tell him to cut it out. “Remember that time we saw three movies in one night? Or the one that had the jacuzzi in it?”

The girl glimpses over at Jacob, who looks utterly confused and uncomfortable. “Harry—”

“Or what about that crime film, yeah? The one with the handcuffs.” He pinches at her love handle teasingly, reveling in how her entire torso tenses under his touch. “The one where they grabbed the criminal and slammed them up against the mirror? You have to remember that one. It’s hard to forget.”

“Okay, I think that’s enough talk about—”

“Oh, c’mon, dove.” Harry slings an arm around her shoulders nonchalantly, squeezing her into his body and feeling Jacob’s glare pierce the side of his face. He stares intently into Y/N’s irises, dimples winking awake at the needy desperation gradually inking its way into their reflection. His tone comes out soft but heavy with authoritative suggestion— the kind he always uses in bed. “Tell me you remember.”

Y/N gulps quietly, mumbling her words begrudgingly. “Yeah, I...I remember.”

A coy hum runs along the back of the vampire’s throat as he licks across his top teeth slyly. “I think that was your favorite one, wasn’t it? You seemed to have really enjoyed it. Like, properly enjoyed it. Loved every single second, if I recall correctly.”

The human forces herself to cast her intent elsewhere, ears simmering and breathing stuttering ever so slightly. Her sight lands back onto a very frazzled Jacob, who is looking at the pair as if they’d sprouted horns, shifting unsurely across his feet. The expression of innocent befuddlement on his face makes guilt twist into her heart.

The mortal roughly shrugs off Harry’s arm, stepping forward and placing a palm on Jacob’s wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you so much for the date. It was...nice.”

Harry’s fists clench at his sides, though the action goes unnoticed.

The human boy nods giddily at Y/N, glancing down to where she’s touching him so tenderly. “‘Course! I had a great time, too.”

“Make sure to tell Isabel that. Maybe it’ll get her to do some sweeping on my behalf.” The girl jokes, giggling softly right along with the stranger.

Harry can feel his nails threatening to break into his skin.

“We really have to get going, though, so I guess I’ll see you around?” Y/N prods, gifting her date one last beautiful smile to ease the awkwardness that had settled into the atmosphere, courtesy of Harry’s antics.

“Sure!” Jacob bobs his head in agreement, pulling out his phone and swaying it symbolically. “You have my number, just text me whenever.”

“Sounds good.”

Once the young man’s footsteps have faded down the complex’s staircase, Y/N swivels around on her heel to face Harry, arms falling across her chest in an irritated fashion. Her face pinches with annoyance as he leans casually against her door, his own arms folding over his strong chest with his fingers tapping along the inside of his elbows, attitude depicting not a single care in the world.

He crosses his ankles easily, brows quirking at the way she’s blatantly glaring at him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that people whose names start with a letter ‘J’ are bound to ruin your life?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry!” Y/N snaps, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling as her glossed lips dip into an aggravated grimace. “Are you serious right now?”

He tilts his head curiously, stifling a simper. “What’s wrong, love?”

“What’s wrong?” She retorts with a humorless laugh, astonished at his ability to act so purposefully dense. “You’re a fucking dick, that’s what’s wrong.”

The vampire sputters into a round of boyish cackling, his entire body shaking against the surface below him as his eyes crinkle shut in mirth. Y/N would be further infuriated if it wasn’t so damn cute.

Harry’s laughter slowly dies down and once he has himself composed, his shoulders rise and fall once dismissively. “I was just fucking around. I didn’t think much of it.”

“You didn’t think—?” Y/N chokes out in indignation, stomping over to him and poking him straight in the chest, right over his butterfly tattoo. Her perfume makes his mind swim in the best way imaginable. “You didn’t think for a second, in that big head of yours, that talking about our sex life in front of my date was overstepping?”

Hearing Y/N officially refer to Jacob as her date makes Harry’s mood drop somberly. He tries to push it down and keep up a comical edge, but it’s harder than he’d care to admit. His accent comes out small and almost fragile, much to her surprise. “Well, I didn’t know you were on a date. Maybe if you had told me, I wouldn’t have come.”

His words sting for some unknown reason.

The mortal draws closer to him until he’s hovering above her, arms dropping down to her sides to fiddle with the hem of her dress as she tilts her chin upwards to get a better look at his stoney face. All anger melts right out of her voice, replaced by her usual delicate cadence. “Well, I...I didn’t think you’d care, really.”

“I don’t.” He replies a little too quickly, a small pang of regret pricking his chest when her face immediately falls. “I mean...I mean it as in, like...I’m not keeping tabs on you or anything. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to limit you.”

Y/N looks back up at him from under her lashes, tone unreadable. “I didn’t think you were. Limiting me, that is. You don’t...limit me.”

Harry nods his head sharply in relieved confirmation, coughing a bit. His throat feels drier than usual and he knows it’s not for a blood-driven reason. “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I do.”

“Alright.”

A charged silence befalls the ambiance between them and the vampire comes to the conclusion that getting his neck snapped was less painful than having this conversation. At least that was quick, whereas this is grueling and horribly uncomfortable, ridden with anxiety and too many elongated pauses. They are walking on extremely thin eggshells around one another, which is something they’ve never had to do before. They have always been on the same wavelength about their relationship and not once has such a nerve-inducing instance come to pass. Now a wrench has been thrown into their metaphorical mechanism and the nuts and bolts are dismantling by the handfuls, leaving them barren and closed-off more than ever. He can feel this situation straining their friendship and he hates it more than he hates those stupid tapestries she fancies.

“If you knew you were gonna be busy,” Harry starts carefully, gluing his attention to a random stain on the cement ground as he scuffs the heel of his boot against her dirty welcome mat, “why didn’t you just text me and cancel?”

Y/N takes a shaky inhale, focusing on tracing the faded cursive letters on her rug. “I...I still wanted you to come.”

Harry’s foot halts its motions, gaze jumping to her for a thoughtful second, brows knotting with mild confusion at her confession. If she still wants him in her bed, why was she indulging someone else? “You wanted me to come?...Why?”

“Because Fridays are our days.”

The corners of his mouth twitch. Our days. Their days. Theirs.

The brunette clears his throat to try and saw away at the tension, shifting against the door as the subject delves into heavier territory. He’s never been one to stutter— he’s much too confident in himself to ever have that issue— but it seems to have become a new development whenever Y/N is around. “If...If you want— uhm...If you want to see other people, you obviously don’t need my permission or anything. But I’d like a little heads-up, just so I know where we stand.”

Y/N releases a curt sigh of exasperation and somehow, Harry can tell it’s not aimed towards him. It’s aimed towards herself.

She fidgets with the tips of her fingers, talking to the floor but directing her message towards her friend. “It’s not what you think, H.”

Harry pins his intent back onto her face, intrigue fully peaked. “What do you mean?”

Y/N takes another trembling breath, releasing it through her nose as a tired exhale. She can feel him looming over her, waiting for an appropriate response with his lips set into a detached line, his ever-present aroma of vanilla and tobacco muddling her thoughts. “I...I mean the date. It wasn’t truly a real date, per se.”

The vampire’s eyes bore into her relentlessly as he clings onto every syllable she speaks. He’s clutching to a form of hope that he deems absolutely humiliating. “How so?”

Y/N picks at the chipping lavender polish on her nails and he finds it adorable how the color of the lacquer matches one of the main notes in her scent.

She speaks up softly and honestly, and he thinks he detects a shred of guilt to her explanation. “Isabel was the one who set it up. Her cousin came into the cafe and when he saw me, he asked her to get me to go on a date with him. I have no actual interest in Jacob, but I said yes just to be nice. I didn’t wanna upset Isabel by making her think her cousin wasn’t good enough for me or something. That’s the only reason I went.”

Harry slowly twists his lionhead daylight ring around his middle finger, simultaneously thumbing over the opal on his pinky. The stone is cold to the touch, but not nearly as cold as his skin.

He reiterates her story slowly, wanting to make sure he interpreted correctly. “So...you only went on the date because you felt bad? You don't actually like him?”

Y/N’s hands plop down against her thighs as she tilts her head back up to look at him, her tone and eyes completely deadpan. “Well, when you say it like that, it makes me sound kind of mean.”

Harry snorts softly, mouth buckling into his signature crooked smirk. “It’s pretty cruel, to be honest— giving that poor bloke hope like that. Very malicious of you.”

Y/N kicks at his ankle jokingly, her lips toying with a grin. “Shut up.”

“You should be careful. Something tells me his ego bruises easily.”

“Oh, is that so? What makes you say that?”

The vampire sucks at his teeth, tapping his chin in faux thought as he shrugs his brows tauntingly. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably the overly-tight shirt and fraternity ring. Seems to me like he’s trying to make up for something he lacks. Probably in the intimacy department.”

Y/N chews along her cheek to keep from bursting into giggles. “You are cruel.”

“I prefer the term ‘brutally honest.’ Sounds classier.”

“Right. Because you’re all about class.”

“Heyyyy!” Harry whines in exaggerated insult, face contorting with dramatic offense. “I’m a classy guy! I have the English accent and fancy chandeliers to prove it!”

“Right. Super classy.”

“I’m a proper gentleman.” The monster huffs with begrudging finality, irises glitzing deviously. “That is, until you beg me to behave otherwise.”

“Fuck off.”

He looks down at her over the crests of his sharp cheekbones as she gazes up at him with a humorously flat expression, feeling all the pent-up stress from the previous events dissolve away into nothing. Harry reaches forward, taking a single curled strand of her hair and moving it behind her shoulder to get a better look at her face. The gesture makes Y/N’s heartbeat hiccup. Especially when that same forefinger ends up poised below her chin, his thumb distractedly caressing across her jaw.

The creature’s next sentence comes out low and almost vulnerable. “So it meant nothing, then? Are you sure? Because I don’t want to get in the way of your dating life if you—”

“It meant nothing.” Y/N confirms, bobbing her head once insistently. She cradles her cheek into his icy palm, keeping their eyes locked as she gives it a gentle kiss, her insides fluttering when Harry’s breathing hitches. “I’m not gonna be seeing him again anytime soon. Or ever, probably. And that’s why I didn’t mention it to you— because I knew it wouldn’t change anything between us. You’re the only person I’m interested in right now.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

The young man swallows thickly, leaning down to smudge his nose across the girl’s and the action erupts a certain flood of warmth so powerful, it could very well kickstart the dead organ below his ribs. His voice is tumbling down his numb tongue before he can think to stop it. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

Y/N’s fingers stretch upwards to wrap around his wrist securely, almost as if to tether him and eliminate the chance of his touch slipping away. Her whisper is trembly and raw. “You have?”

Harry knows he’s allowing this to wade into dangerously grey waters, but he can’t find it in himself to care, at the moment. “Yeah. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Couldn’t stop thinking about how good you felt last time.”

The mortal teeters onto the tips of her toes, flirting her mouth over her friend’s, a prickling sensation stemming from where their cupid’s bows brush. She glimpses at him amidst her lashes, glassy eyes reflecting his need right back at him. “Tell me more. Please?”

The breath of Harry’s words is hot against her mouth, his eyes lulling closed as he recalls all of the memories from the last few days. “I just couldn’t shake it. You were just so tight and warm and the way you were pushing back against my thrusts...the way you were shaking and whimpering...the way you flipped around and slammed your mouth to mine because you wanted me to moan onto your tongue….It was so fucking filthy, I just— I couldn’t—”

His control begins to shatter and the immortal can feel desperation leak through the cracks webbing across his composure. Y/N isn’t helping any, considering she’s started suckling lightly at his bottom lip, her free hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Keep going.”

Harry gulps heavily before continuing. “I touched myself while fantasying about you. Lost count of how many times, honestly. But I came so hard every single one. It was pretty easy to lose myself like that, just sitting there thinking about everything we do. Thinking about how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, taking it down your throat like such a good fucking girl. How nice your arse feels in my hands, especially when you ask me to spank it. How snug you are when you sink over me, stretching around it like it’s made just for you. How the little noises you make sound so fucking perfect— like a song, really. And...and how good you taste between your thighs. S’like honey. Just so fucking sweet.”

There’s a pause as Harry’s words sink into the air, his dirty confessions pulling passion taut into existence between the two lovers. They’re all over each other in less than a heartbeat.

Y/N begins to fumble with the small purse she has strung across her body, frantically fishing for her keys as Harry delights himself with sponging his lips across the slope of her jaw, grinning into her skin at the little curses escaping her throat. He absolutely adores how whipped she gets for him.

The human manages to retrieve her key, jamming it into the lock blindly as her eyes blur with tears of sheer need, stemming from the tiny shots of bliss Harry is instilling through the sloppy pecks he’s trailing down her jugular. She hastily turns the knob, bumping her full weight into the door and nearly fainting in relief when it swings open. She turns sharply to face him, roping her arms around his strong shoulders and pulling him into her, shuddering at how incredible it feels to have his strong torso flushed to hers so intimately. Harry allows himself to be yanked forward into her apartment, giggling softly when she crashes their mouths together messily, harshly tugging him past the threshold.

The vampire’s lean arms wrap around her waist as the young woman maneuvers their connected bodies into the narrow hallway of her flat, one of her hands waving around wildly until it succeeds in shoving the door shut. Y/N slams Harry up against the closest wall, feverishly fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt and nearly ripping them out of their designated holes. Her hands quiver as she races down the seams, her eyes tinging darker when Harry leans his head back against the panel and smirks down at her smugly.

He gnaws on his bottom lip, his half-lidded gaze mocking her hysteria as his voice comes out deep and melodic as always, slathered with self-assured arrogance. “You’re so cute when you’re this eager to fuck me.”

Y/N pants against his twitching lips, tearing his top down his broad figure and shamelessly groping at his swollen biceps. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Harry abides, lulling his tongue along her upper lip and thrumming deeply when her digits trickle down his abdomen. He coos into her mouth as she begins fiddling with his belt buckle. “What, no interior design emergency this time? You’re losing your touch, darling.”

The girl pulls the leather strap off his pants in a frenzy, scoffing at his stupid quip and breaking their kiss to speckle her mouth down his bare chest, feeling it stutter below her influence. “I got some new chairs for my dining table. Wanna take a look?”

The boy’s fingers card into her roots as she descends down his stomach with wet pecks, his eyes rolling closed with a strained grunt. She bites along his fern inkings and his hips buck forward in response, his grip on her hair tightening when she palms over the outline of his clothed cock. “You know I’m always a sucker for some good dining chairs.”

As it turns out, Y/N had actually gotten some new chairs, much to Harry’s surprise.

They’re nice, in his opinion. They seem sturdy enough, with metal backrests and legs that are covered in tarnished gold paint that gives a pleasing rustic look. But in the end, Harry doesn’t really much care for the details of the furniture. All he cares about is if they’ll manage to withstand Y/N’s weight as he shoves her onto her knees atop the chair and bends her over the back. Or if they’ll stay put as he pounds into her from behind with a fist in her hair and his letter rings marking across her backside. That’s all that truly matters.

Despite having done this countless of times before, this particular instance feels different. Both of them can tell, but Y/N feels it more prevalently. Specifically, in the bottom of her stomach and in the pain sweltering across her ass.

Harry’s just…rougher. He’s still himself, so he makes sure she’s okay with everything he does before doing it, but when he gets the green light, he doesn’t let it go to waste. His grip on her roots is harsh, with his nails digging into her scalp as he jerks her head back to bring her in for a kiss, her spine arching into a semi-circle. The position is difficult given the amount of flexibility required, but Y/N powers through. She quite likes it, actually— it gives him a deeper range of depth, somehow. She can feel him touching the trench of her tummy and she refuses to do anything that might make that stop.

The kiss is upside down, but the vampire doesn’t let that deter him. It’s still dirty and heedless, with lots of biting and overzealous tongues, broken whines and fractured pleas. Y/N freely moans into his mouth, gasping and mewling to his every thrust with a certain type of helplessness that flogs the flames blistering Harry’s dormant veins. He loves that he makes her feel helpless, especially because she makes him feel the exact same way.

His stride is fast and deep and unapologetic— vengeful, almost, and they both know why. Even though Y/N had told the creature that the date had been nothing but a selfless chore, he can’t seem to let it go as easily as she had. He finds himself wanting to prove to her that he’s better than that insipid stranger. That he can give her everything she wants without a single issue. That he can deliver everything she needs with expert skill and relentless force, just as she prefers. That he can make her entire body tremble in overstimulation and make every fiber of her being tingle with sheer pleasure, just by gifting her a few adamant snaps of his hips and by muttering a couple filthy promises onto her unfeeling tongue.

“Bet he wouldn’t be able to make you feel like this, huh, pet?” Harry growls against her swollen lips, plunging his thick length into her and nudging at that sweet spot that makes her toes curl. “Bet he wouldn’t know how to handle you— how to handle that tight cunt and that sharp tongue. Could never take care of you the way I do, isn’t that right, baby?”

Y/N rattles her head in her friend’s grasp, releasing fragmented noises of bliss as he hikes her dress further up her ass and gives it another brutal spank. She can feel his rings imprinting across her sweaty skin and she strives off it more than she should.

Her voice comes out garbled and weak. “N-No one can make me feel as good as you.”

“Damn straight.” Harry grits out, breaking their prolonged kiss to rest his chin against her damp forehead, looking down at her from over his sharp, tinted cheekbones. “Nobody can fuck you into a begging mess like I can. Whose pretty cunt is this, angel? Who’s the only one who gets to call you their little slut?”

The electricity crackling around his pupils is borderlining on unhinged, but she adores it. The fact that she can drive him to the brink like that feeds the affinity she has to win his praise. “It’s yours, Harry. Just yours— it’s always just you. You’re the only one. Nobody e-else— fuck, oh my God!”

“You got all dolled up for him, though. Why’s that’s, hm?” Harry’s hold releases from her hair and fumbles down to her throat, the pads of his fingers leaving bruises across her jugular as he grunts lowly with every hellbent ram. “If you didn’t care, why’d you get all pretty, then? Why’d you wear perfume? And why’d you wear that dress— my dress?”

Y/N’s lashes flutter as he refers to her outfit, which is the same one she’d had on the day they had officially established their loose arrangement. Hearing him call it his— hearing him claim it as his own with so much dominant confidence— makes the pit of her belly froth. It is his. Sure, she’d worn it for the sake of looking presentable, but it was only to satisfy the basic rules of what a date entails. In truth, under the excuse of inherent kindness, she’d worn it because she knew Harry would see it afterwards. Because she knew he liked it. Because she wanted to please him.

The girl communicates that to him now in the form of a feathery mumble, staring up at his angered eyes with a moony, innocent aura. “I wore it f-for you.”

The intense jealousy present in Harry’s clenched jaw and furrowed brows dissipates, replaced by soft awe at her wispy affirmation. He pants as he absorbs the real meaning behind her entire appearance, feeling sparks ignite in his heaving chest. “You...You did it for me?”

Y/N struggles to swallow in his rough grip, nodding a bit as her fingers tighten around the edge of the chair. “I know you like it and, well…I like making you happy.”

Harry’s lips part in astonished wonder, though he’s not so sure why her admission had caught him off guard. She’s told him plenty of times that she likes giving him what he wants, but this just feels slightly more personal than anything else she’s ever uttered during an orgasmic stupor. It’s tipping along one of the lines they had sworn not to cross.

The vampire hadn’t even realized his strokes had tapered to a halt, and apparently neither had she. They’re both too busy looking into each other’s eyes with expressions that neither can decipher. The tense pause only lasts maybe three seconds at most, but it feels like they manage to fit an eternity of uncertain silence within that short time frame.

Harry cuts through the moment by clearing his throat, intent on changing the subject into something much lighter that will allow them to return to their previous activity. However, the words that rasp out of his raw lips are ones he hadn’t consciously consented to. They come from a sincere nature he’d suppressed for so long, he didn’t think it was possible for it to ever resurface again. “I like making you happy, too.”

Y/N blinks up at him with her usual doe-like air, the corners of her lips twitching fondly at his requited compliment. “I guess we just like making each other happy, then, don’t we?”

The monster has never been more thankful for her witty personality. It gives him the opportunity to stuff his emotions back into the box they belong, allowing him to regain his typical composure and return her banter without a hitch. He bursts into a round of wheezy giggles, tapping at the hollow of her throat playfully. “I guess so. We’ll add that to the list of things we do to each other, right under ‘excite.’”

The rest of the session goes as usual, thankfully. Some more degrading names are exchanged, positions are switched, hickies are stained on fleshy thighs and damp shoulders, and Harry’s array of rings paint an art piece across Y/N’s backside that he thinks is worthy of the Louvre. His initials are signed on it and everything.

The pair end up splayed across her trusty old couch, catching their breaths from the heavy exertion they’d just put each other through. Y/N is still in her dress, though it’s rumpled, damp, and the thin straps are hanging off her shoulders limply. Harry is bare, as he always is after sex, per his raunchy preference. However, Y/N had made him cover himself with a blanket in order to keep at least a shred of decency between them. Plus, she’d said she didn’t want his “limp dick brushing against my dress while we cuddle.”

And that’s what they’re doing now— snuggling on her couch with the human pressed up against the vampire’s side, his arm slung around her shoulders casually as she doodles random shapes across the colored skin of his tummy. She has one leg hooked across his covered hips, which he’s more than happy to allow because he thoroughly enjoys rubbing his palm up and down the back of her thigh; it’s soothing and warm. Y/N entertains herself with nuzzling her head against the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly as he props his chin atop her temple and pets at her frizzy hair with gentle strokes. It’s a nice moment, full of slowly steadying breaths and the hum of the air vent at the other end of the room.

Harry is the first to break the tranquil atmosphere.

“I give the chairs a ten out of ten. IKEA really outsold.”

Y/N slaps her hand down against his naked chest, sputtering into a wave of loud laughter that is unbelievably contagious. “I’m happy you like them ‘cause, uh...they were on clearance. Can’t return them.”

“You lucked out then, didn’t you? Kudos to your ability to pick out decent furniture.” Harry twirls a strand of her tangled locks around his index finger, giving it a playful tug as a grin dimples his flushed cheeks. “Except for when it comes to wall decor.”

“It’s not my fault you're a stuck-up asshole.”

“And it’s not my fault you have a knack for cringey drapery depicting ClipArt images.”

“I’m going to strangle you with one of my tapestries, I really am.”

“Be my guest. At least I won’t have to look at them ever again.” The immortal squeezes her thigh jestingly, his smile widening when she squirms and giggles. “I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been fucking and I accidentally glanced at it and almost went soft.”

“But you didn’t.” She reasons, flicking at one of his nipples in revenge and feeling proud when he hisses softly.

“But I could have.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I could have.” Harry insists stubbornly, reaching up to push a few wet curls out of his tired eyes. “Have you ever had someone go soft inside you? It’s pretty gross. Highly discourage it.”

“Just close your eyes, then.” Y/N states with finality, pinching at his belly button and cackling in satisfaction when he writhes. “You’re real shitty at solving problems, y’know that? You could never be Sherlock.”

Harry goes quiet for a second and his friend almost looks up to check if he’s alright; he’s too petty to ever back out of anything. But sure enough, his voice comes out a second later, flat and unyielding. “Take down the glorified curtains or I’m never eating you out again.”

“I’ll take down my glorified curtains the day you take down that Stevie Nicks poster on your wall.”

“I refuse to take down Stevie!”

“And I refuse to take down Amanda!”

“You named it?!”

The lovers chat and bicker childishly for a while longer, talking about anything and everything that will keep them entertained. Harry explains to Y/N how his friends had gone on a trip this week (though he makes sure to omit the fact that he had willingly bailed in order to spend time with her) and he’d been alone most of the time. She responds to his story with an incredulous yelp, telling him that he should’ve come over if he wanted some company. She says she would have been more than happy to hang out with him, but he knows she’d been so busy the entire week with work, she probably would have fallen asleep within ten minutes of him arriving. It’s the thought that counts, though, so he thanks her for the belated support, either way.

Y/N talks about a weird customer that had come in and ordered a sandwich with nothing but cucumbers and cheddar cheese on French bread, which she had later recreated to taste-test herself out of curiosity. She can confirm it was abhorrent and the way her nose crinkles with disgust makes Harry snort in endearment. She also tells him about how horribly the date with Jacob had gone, simply because she can tell he’s itching to ask. She recounts everything the young man boasted about, from the annoying college stories to his stupid opinion about clubs. She informs him that she’d never had a more terrible experience in her life and that she wishes she could get that hour of her life back.

Harry can’t help the way his face lights up at how utterly repulsed she sounds. He knew it. He fucking knew she would never insert herself into a romantic situation with such a comedic punchline of a human being. Hearing her confirm his suspicions is almost as pleasurable as what she can do with her mouth. Almost.

The vampire finds himself lost in his thoughts, thinking about how much better the whole event would have gone if it had been him instead. How he would have picked her up from her flat by actually getting out of the car and knocking on her door, rather than just sending her a text to come down. How he would have helped her into his car like a proper gentleman, and how he would’ve aided her back out when the time came. How he would enter the restaurant with his palm resting at the dip of her back, guiding the girl towards their seats and pulling out a chair for her. How they’d make conversation as easily as they always do, and how he’d have her laughing between mouthfuls of food, and how he’d expertly flirt her into a fidgety puddle. How he’d reach over the table to get a bit of sauce off the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin, and how she’d thank him with that shy smile he’d grown to admire. How he’d wave off her suggestion to split the bill, paying it all himself and smirking as she scolds him for it because she likes being hard-headed and independent. How much fun she would actually have, and how she would probably be willing to go out on a second date.

Harry’s comment topples out of his mouth before he can rethink it.

“I bet I could take you out on a better date.”

Y/N’s head snaps upwards to meet his gaze, eyebrows jumping in utter shock. She hadn’t been expecting that from him at all. Ever.

She talks between airy spurts of glee. “That was random.”

Harry doesn’t return the gesture. In fact, his lips don’t even jolt in the slightest. He simply just stares down at her with seriousness decorating his features, long lashes blinking blankly. He doesn’t know what overcame him to make such a bizarre, uncalled for claim, but he can’t take it back now. And he’s not so sure he wants to, honestly. He knows there’s truth to his belief— he could definitely do a better job of wooing her than that Jesse McCartney wannabe. It’s not like it’s hard.

Aside from that, seeing Y/N out with another man had reminded Harry that their little alliance isn’t anything solid— it’s not bulletproof, and he really shouldn’t be taking it for granted. He’d been so cocky and self-assured about himself and what he has to offer, he’d forgotten that there is always the possibility that Y/N might grow tired of him. It may be a microscopic possibility, but it exists, nonetheless. If he wants to keep her interested, he has to up his game a bit, or she might decide that he isn’t worth keeping around. If he wishes to maintain this favorable arrangement where he gets his intimate tendencies tailored and his supernatural necessities sufficed, he needs to give her a more fulfilling reason to stay.

Good sex is a very convincing factor, sure, but there might come a time in her life when she wants more than just a no-strings-attached affair. There may come a time when she’ll mature out of this stage and seek something sturdier and safe and anchored. There may come a time when she wants a real relationship, and if he doesn’t keep her occupied, that could be sooner rather than later. And it could be with someone else. He doesn’t want this convenience taken away from him— doesn’t want to lose the thing they have going, which keeps him out of annoying clubs, out of random people’s beds, and gives him the best blood he’s tasted in the last twenty decades. It’s too comfortable and satisfying to let go. He has to keep her hooked somehow, and if taking her on a date can assure that this flawless dream remains intact, then he’ll gladly do it.

Harry licks his lips slowly, measuring out his next words with immense precision. “I’m being serious. I can definitely do better.”

A million emotions funnel into Y/N’s eyes at once and he can only pick out a select few: confusion, astonishment, fear, denial, and slight unease. There is the chance that the monster may be interpreting all of the human’s feelings incorrectly because, truth be told, he isn’t the best at gauging or handling sentiments. However, there is one he knows he’s not misjudging— it’s the most evident one of all: Excitement.

“Think about it for a second, yeah?” Harry starts, shifting in his seat to get a better look at her, raising his eyebrows decisively. “I’ve already gotten in your pants. That means I have no ulterior motive, right?”

Y/N’s own brows kink a smidge. “I...I guess.”

Her friend continues his speech. “Because of that, it means I won’t rush the date, I won’t expect anything from you, and we already get on pretty well, as it is. It’d be a proper good time— a genuine good time.”

The girl’s eyes flicker around different points of his face, trying to make sure he’s not pulling some type of cruel prank. Her tone comes out hesitant and slow. “That makes sense, I suppose.”

Harry squeezes the back of her thigh reassuringly. “It’s all in mathematics, love; everything adds up. It’s truly an ideal situation, if you ask me. Practically utopian.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, letting it out shakily. This is all so sudden and unexpected, she feels like Harry might burst into laughter any minute and reveal it’s all just a big joke. It’s just not them. It’s out of bound— it scribbles outside the box drawn around their whole dynamic. They were never meant to date, they were just meant to sleep together; they were meant to provide each other with the satisfaction that comes from a real relationship, without all the trials and tribulations. Harry asking her on a date blurs those sacred boundaries in a way she’s not sure she’s ready to face. It could mess everything up. It could not only ruin the fun little arrangement they have going, but it could potentially destroy their entire friendship. Harry is the only person she’s truly connected with since she moved to Los Angeles and risking that bond on an impulsive decision...That’s something she doesn’t think she can afford to do. She can’t survive her new life on her own. This is just too dangerous. Way too dangerous.

But then again...it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it before. She will admit, there have been instances where she’s pictured her and Harry becoming more than just warm bodies to each other. The two days she spent over at his house the weekend prior had solidified those fantasies and made them more frequent. They just click so well, she knows for a fact they’d make a great team. It’d be like dating a best friend, in a way. They fit one another in a manner she didn’t think was possible, and despite the fact they’ve only been acquainted for just over a month and a half, it feels like they’ve been friends for years. She feels like these types of connections are rare to create and she finds herself wishing it could develop into more.

But could it really be worth the potential grievance?

Y/N tunes back into reality, gazing up at Harry with reluctant eyes. She’s surprised to find his are full of confident clarity, as if he’s already sold on the idea and had begun planning their outing. He’s simply awaiting her response at this point, thumbing over her knee gently while tucking her hair behind her ear, lips poised into that lopsided simper that makes her heart skip and her nerves glitch. How could she possibly find it in herself to say no to him?

The mortal clears her throat lightly, gnawing into her cheek as she speaks her next words with airy humor. “So is that your official way of asking me out? ‘Cause if so, that’s not enough. You’re gonna have to do better, love.”

Harry hesitates for a split second, but it’s so fast, his friend doesn’t even take notice. He prays he doesn’t grow to regret this decision.

The boy nods, pursing his mouth into a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I don't think I heard you? Must be the AC.”

Harry rolls his eyes grandly at the stolen joke, which is identical to one he had made two weeks ago when he’d come over for their usual adult pastime and had brought a special toy in tow.

His mood comes out theatrical, accent heavily exaggerated. “Dear fair maiden, would you be so kind as to do me the impeccable honor of allowing me to bask in your presence by attending a luncheon with me, preferably sometime in the near future? Thank you so much for your consideration. Sincerely signed...” The creature takes a pause, proceeding to sing his next words to the tune of a song they are both familiar with, given their interest in the Hamilton play. “Your Obedient Servant, H dot Styles.”

Y/N explodes into a series of giggles, shaking her head as she reaches up to peck at his grinning lips.

“It would be my pleasure.”

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

Text

Gladiolus.

Description: Jihyun Kim knew what he had to do to protect both Saeran and Saeyoung, but what happens when he realizes that he needs to help himself and change the course of his life to accomplish it? Will he have the strength to be the Dad that he needs to be for them in the face of his mistakes and victories?

Photographer Saeran AU

Word Count: 10500

Based on this idea and thanks to @dailysaeran for drawing baby Saeran!

[Read on AO3]

Jihyun had heard that the winds of change could come into your life and dismantle everything that you thought would last forever. Life wasn’t always a constant stream where the water would twist and turn around the rocks the same way. The weather would change, the temperature would change, the currents would change, and even the animals that lived in the water would change as the seasons passed.

It had been something that he had gone through twice before, but this change wasn’t one that he ever expected to come. It had been a realization that had been a long time coming, but he hadn’t allowed himself to see just how much he needed to stop and reflect on the man that he became as his life shifted to much more mature adulthood.

The first time things changed, he lost his dear mother and it changed the way that he believed in love. Her adoration and commitment to him had made him believe that he needed to care for the people he loved no matter what, without fail, even if it meant that he would sacrifice himself. In hindsight, now he was able to see how this extreme wasn’t the right way to handle his feelings towards others.

His mother had always loved him and wanted the best for him. But, at that time, he had been a stubborn young man who had layered issues with his mother. It wasn’t her fault that his father had taught him to feel complicated about his mother, and it certainly wasn’t her fault that V had come to realize too late that his father had manipulated him to believe in his lies. He had been so afraid as a child of his father seeing his true passion.

His fears and insecurities forced him into pushing his mother away over and over again, but she kept believing in him and pushing for him to find his dream. Her sacrifice for him during the fire that claimed her life had been what changed Jihyun forever. He thought that to love someone, he had to give everything for the rest of his life, even if that meant trying to help someone by being too pushy.

His mistake here had nearly cost him everything.

It had almost destroyed him, in the same way, that his mother had been destroyed by her love and compassion for her son whom she loved dearly. He had learned the wrong lesson and it was only recently that he was able to understand that.

The second time things changed, he had met Rika, and by extension, he would eventually come into contact with Saeyoung. His love life with Rika had always been intense, blinding as the sun as the two of them tangled their broken hearts looking for a savior to believe in. But, their love wasn’t right for one another at the end of the day, and the more they argued the less idyllic their reality became.

He wanted to help Rika escape from her nightmares and trauma, but he had no idea how to help her in the way that she needed him to. He thought that allowing her to fixate on her darkest and scariest thoughts by subjecting him to them instead of herself, would help her to break free of the chain. She was a star that was on the brink of exploding when he met her, and every single day, he idealized this and found a muse within it.

It hadn’t been a healthy relationship once their feelings became tangled with the fruits of poison but as that realization grew to a fever pitch, V couldn’t ignore the cycle that had been created. Even if they ignored it and tried to make things work, it was never going to work and they were needless in the way that they continued to subject themselves to something that would never make them feel the love that they deserved.

Everyone thought that their love was perfect, but it was far from the truth. This was realized just as they began to help the twins. Saeyoung and Saeran Choi were two young boys who had been living in hell their entire lives, and they were trapped in a cycle of abuse that they could not get out of on their own. Rika had been taking care of Saeyoung for a while, gaining his trust through the church and trying to help him bring more food and clothes home to his sickly twin.

She’d known him for quite some time before Jihyun met him. But, Rika had been upfront with him about the life that this young boy lived, and it didn’t take much consideration for him to so badly want to help. Saeyoung was willing to do anything, try something, or beg if it meant that his brother could be safe and sound away from harm. Their mother was using them to blackmail their father into getting whatever she wanted, and without them, she wouldn’t be able to assert that control.

Rika, at first, wanted to simply remove the boys in the dead of night and run. V thought that wasn’t a bad idea, but when Saeyoung admitted the identity of his father, they both knew in their hearts that running wasn’t going to be a viable option.

It was in their hunt to find a way to get the older twin an escape that V met someone from the agency. A fan of his that loved to buy up so many of his photographs happened to be working for an underground facility that took any intelligent young people under their wings. The man spun it to him like being an escape from reality, an action movie suddenly came to life that would give the budding Choi a place to learn how to use his skills to protect himself.

As Saeyoung had proven to be quite skillful with programming, the books that he had been studying that had been given to him by Rika had come in handy. He was able to prove that his skill was worth the trouble it would take to train him properly to the man, and Jihyun was able to make a deal through that, giving Saeyoung safety within the confines of secret protection where his hacking skills could eventually help him hide everything about himself and his brother.

For the time being, Saeyoung would have to let go of his twin to go into the agency to study and become what they wanted him to be. There was no telling how long he would owe the agency his life and skill, it could’ve been years or it could’ve lasted his entire life. But, the deal would give him time to figure out how to become the strongest person that he could be. It would allow him to protect his brother, which is all he wanted.

In making this deal with the agency, he made a second deal with V for it. Saeyoung was a very firm negotiator when he wanted to be. The promise was that as long as Saeyoung was in the care of the agency, V and/or Rika would have to care for his brother and keep him hidden. It was this large promise to make that meant that everything in their lives would change, but V took this deal because he knew it was the right thing to do. He wanted nothing more than to protect those boys with his entire heart.

He had never been this committed to the idea of protecting children before, but he supposed that he saw his pain in their eyes. He never wanted to see another child hurt from whatever they lived through, no matter how deep the pain buried itself into their bodies. This deal was made and the older twin had to leave without warning. His heart ached to know that he couldn’t tell his twin where he was going.

People in the agency weren’t allowed to have connections with family or loved ones. If they did, people would use them as collateral and the agency couldn’t have their members breaking down every time someone wound up kidnapped or used a prop. Saeyoung couldn’t stomach the idea of knowing that his brother would get hurt when this was to protect him, so when the day came and he had to leave?

He hugged his brother tightly as he was still resting and apologized, leaving during the time before the sun rose with just the clothes on his back. Saeran would be okay, but he had to break his heart into pieces to do it. His little brother was everything to him and just knowing that he could taste some kind of freedom was all he needed to choose to leave. Saeyoung had tears in his eyes that day, but he never stopped smiling.

Those words that Saeyoung spoke still haunted him somewhat, as the undaunted expression in his eyes grew; “Saeran will have a good life. I know he will. He’ll be free to look at the grounds and get any kind of ice cream that he wants after dinner from now on. He’ll get to experience all kinds of firsts… he can read, draw, and try all kinds of things with you, V. He’ll make friends, he’ll fall in love, he’ll have everything that he could ever want. Thank you.”

That hung heavy on V’s shoulders as it was a tall order to fulfill. But, he took that promise and he kept it deeply interwoven inside of his heart. Even as his and Rika’s relationship came to an end in a matter of seconds. Rika realized after just a short time being around Saeran that his pain was too great compared to her own, and it reminded her too much of her mother and the pain that she had suffered.

She wanted to protect Saeran, but this realization had given her the ugly truth. She couldn’t give him the love that he needed alongside V… because her heart was still wounded, and she wanted to heal herself in the right way before she tried to help someone in need in the way that he truly needed. His pain was like her own, and in seeing that, she knew that she needed to end things with V to be able to help herself.

As they had been growing apart over some time, V understood why she chose to do this and he knew that it was coming no matter what happened. They had never been perfect for each other and trying to force themselves to stay together to take care of Saeran simply wasn’t going to help that child in need.

Rika dedicated herself back to going to therapy consistently and decided to put all her energy into creating the RFA so she could help Saeran and other children like him that way, removed from the situation but still close enough to provide help.

She loved V but their love couldn’t ever be more than what it had always been, mere infatuation and trying to cover their wounds with a meager bandaid that couldn’t heal the problem. He cared for her greatly but at the end of the day, love could not bloom and prosper in a garden without a drop of water in the intense heat of the sun.

V understood his failing in their relationship as well, and through her insistence, as well as the urging of Jumin, he decided that he needed to get help for himself as well. Even if getting help was such a taboo in his culture, he knew that he needed it. He knew that his heart was wounded and to be a better man, he had to acknowledge what he had gone through. After all, if he was to be Saeran’s father, he wanted to be worthy of the title.

He wanted to be able to prove to not only himself but everyone around him that he could do the right thing. It wasn’t easy for him to face his demons but it was a process that he wanted to start for his heath. While that started and he and Rika separated, he slowly took the time to lure Saeran away from his mother’s grasp day by day. It started with Rika convincing the woman to let him come to the cathedral every so often.

But, in due time, the longer that Saeran was gone, the less time that his mother was aware of her surroundings and the people around herself.

She had been drinking often since Saeyoung had left and it left her out of her mind for lengthy periods. When she was too dazed to even process what her name was, much less where her child was, that’s when V and Rika snuck in during the dead of night when she was passed out and there was no sign of any watchful eyes from Saejoong Choi.

Saeran was removed from her household and brought to V’s house in the secluded mountains, far from the city but just close enough that they wouldn’t have a lengthy drive if push came to shove and they needed something.

That woman was left in her despair but her fate hung in the balance the minute that she was left alone. They took extreme measures to make it look like the boys hadn’t even lived there in the first place, but whatever Saejoong Choi decided to do with that woman… it would be the price of her sins to face alone now that she no longer could use the boys as puppets. Neither V nor Rika would look back or try to discern her true fate.

It would be up to fate in that case and they would shield Saeran from that reality as much as they could. He might have cared for the idea of his mother as he craved a family where he was wanted and loved, but she wasn’t someone who truly loved her sons. They couldn’t be properly called her sons because she never treated them the way a mother should treat their child. She simply did not deserve that title.

Regardless, with Saeran under his care, he was finally able to wake up one morning and know that he had a bed that couldn’t be taken away from him. He’d been given his bedroom with anything that he could desire. Saeyoung had told them about some of the things that he liked and it helped them figure out what to gift him to make him feel more at home.

It was a lot for Saeran all at once, though.

His eyes flooded with tears that day as he realized that he had a bed for the first time in his life. He looked back at V and asked him, “Is that mine?” The twins had slept on a mat on the floor with only a single blanket to share between them. Saeran often wound up wearing the blanket after he fell asleep because Saeyoung would refuse to take it. So, a bed was like the biggest gift this child had ever seen.

Saeran’s eyes flooded with tears as he hugged V without thinking, looking at him with the most joyful expression in his eyes. V felt his heart jump when he did, and a lump grew in his throat as he ruffled the boy’s hair and smiled in return. This was what Saeyoung wanted, his twin to be able to have the very thing that they had been denied from their birth, a home with a family that would protect him.

He had been barely fourteen years old, but the way his donated clothes clung to his body and how short he was, he could’ve passed easily as a ten-year-old, at best. He was small and barely able to hold himself up most days but that had been a happy moment for him. Saeran had only let go of V to race to the bed, flopping onto the soft mattress and rolling onto his back, laughing and giggling with glee.

His room was a paradise of pinks and blues, very gentle pastels that would cloak him with the sunshine that he had been denied. His room had a large window that he could open if he wanted to see the sky or feel the fresh breeze on his face once again.

There was a view of the garden in the back and the massive trees that lead into the forest further behind that. He could see all of the things that he never could have locked away in his mother’s house.

There were plushies and toys carefully tucked into the room as well since Saeyoung had been firmly adamant that his twin loved to color and all the picture books that he had received made him long for toys and soft things to hold onto.

There was one gift in that room that hadn’t been chosen by V… and it was a ginger tabby cat plushie, something that Saeyoung picked out for him after he snuck out to go shopping with V one day.

If Saeran were to flip the tag around its neck, he would see his brother’s handwriting on the back plain as day. It didn’t say his brother’s name on it but it did say, “For Saeran,” and that would be the only clue his twin needed to understand that it was a gift from Saeyoung. He would discover it when V left him to acclimate to his new room by himself, eyes laced with happy tears as he’d realize his twin had given him a gift.

It meant that his brother was alive and this was where he wanted him to be.

Saeran was hopeful after that, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. V couldn’t tell him where his twin was or anything about him, but the gift was enough. It was a gesture that would be able to tide him over and keep his heart happy, knowing that he hadn’t been abandoned and his twin hadn’t been killed by their father.

It was a simple gesture but it was the only thing that he could think of to bypass the agency before they even knew it was a problem.

Of course, this opened up another can of worms that V had to deal with. The fact of the matter was, Saeran couldn’t keep his red hair. Even if he was hidden away from the rest of the world and safe with him, they couldn’t trust that his father wasn’t still looking. He would be hunting around for boys with red hair and golden eyes.

V had to explain this to Saeran, who felt a little dejected about not being able to keep his hair but after he learned why he had to change it, he was okay with it. After all, he knew that he could be able to dye it back someday if he wanted. But, for the time being, he had to dye his hair to look like V’s did. This was for a very good reason and it worked with the backstory that he was going to tell people if they asked about him having a child.

Through the false documentation that he was able to create thanks to the channel he had created with his informants, he was able to create an entire fabricated life for Saeran. It took a lot of time to look into his mother’s side, but he was able to make it seem as though Saeran was just a very distant cousin of his from the states that had no other family to turn to. It meant he wouldn’t be in the family registry since it was distant.

It was close enough that a doctored birth certificate and some basic paperwork could give him a new identity overall. It took a lot of money to make it as perfect and legal as possible, but it was well worth the price he paid. To the South Korean government as far as they were concerned in the matter, Saeran would simply be known as Ray Kim, the adopted child of Jihyun Kim. It was as simple as that.

Saeran had been adamant about the name since he got to pick what people would call him. He thought about it for a while until he stumbled upon an interesting idiom. He noticed that nice people were called a Ray of Sunshine. Saeran felt connected with that idea, he wanted so badly to be happy enough that people would never think he was lonely and pathetic.

He wanted to be that person that looked so happy they glowed.

If Saeyoung was watching over him now, he wanted his brother to know that he was happy. So, his new name should’ve been happy. V agreed and let him pick that name since he was giving up a lot to be able to have this freedom in the first place. He was a child that had been saved but he still had limitations on what he could do. Being able to choose his name was one of the small luxuries.

Of course, as soon as the paperwork was ready, V had to dye his hair himself. It took a while to lighten his red locks to a color that would accept the mint dye, but Saeran was a good sport for the entire time that he had to sit there at the table, letting V do his hair in layers as everything started to process. It took a few hours but by the end of it, Saeran’s red was washed away and replaced with a color that was no different than V’s.

The child looked into the mirror once his hair had dried out, blinking a few times at his reflection since he didn’t recognize it at first. His golden eyes stared back at him so he knew that it was his face in the mirror but it felt weird not to see his twin’s face reflected with his own. It wasn’t the same as it used to be, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t okay.

It was okay.

He knew it would be okay.

In a quiet voice, he asked, “Do you think Saeyoung would be upset because I don’t look like him anymore?”

“Saeyoung would be happy that you’re safe here,” V said. He rested his hand against Saeran’s shoulder and they looked back at their reflections together this time. “You’ll always look like your brother, even if you don’t have the same hair color. Nobody can ever take that connection away from you, Saeran. Never forget that.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to try on the contacts, too? You don’t have to use them when we’re at home, but if we leave the house for something together, I’ll need you to wear them, okay? So, it’d be nice to try to practice getting them off and on your eyes.”

“Are they this color, too?”

“I picked a few different colors out, Saeran. What would you like to try?”

“Um, what about green? It’s like the grass!”

“We can try that.”

—

Saeran adjusted as best he could.

Everything changed so much for him after he finally felt secure. He had room to sleep in, he had a house that could leave whenever he wanted, and he had a new member of his family who liked to listen to him talk for hours about all of the new things that he was doing. V even said that once he felt like he was ready, he could start going to school and hang out with kids his age.

That was a little scary for Saeran to think about. He wasn’t sure about going out in the open with people… he was still scared of being caught by his father and getting his brother into trouble. It was a sad reality that he faced but the decision was ultimately left in his hands if he wanted to go to school with other kids or he simply wanted V to hire him a proper tutor to come and visit the house every week.

Saeran was curious about school… about kids his age. Back at the cathedral, he didn’t talk much to the other kids because he had felt too shy to approach them. He had spoken to some of the kids a few times during the playtime that they had whilst the parents were in the middle of their mass, but he always got too anxious to talk to them beyond a few quiet “hello”s.

It was hard to imagine making friends.

It was hard to imagine going to school, too.

But, everything he saw on the television made it seem like it might be fun. What if Saeyoung was going to a school? Would he want him to go, too? He wasn’t so sure about it, but he could think about it and try to guess what it would be like. After all, V went to a school when he’d been a kid, so that meant that it was safe, right?

Saeran was a gentle soul that liked to learn how to do everything… every meal was spent trying to show him how to do something. Cleaning up meant that he wanted to help V every step of the way, and for the time that he wasn’t trying to learn skills, he could be found outside in the garden that was growing stronger outside. The flowers and vegetables had caught his eye, again.

He spent a lot of time learning about them at the cathedral but he didn’t have long to study the picture book that V got him when he was stuck with his mother. He liked learning about how they drew and what they meant when you shared them with other people. Saeran thought it was interesting that people could share secrets between petals and stems.

They were all so pretty and he liked talking to them whenever he could. They were like his friends even if they couldn’t talk back to him. He never had someone who listened so much before so he liked that about them. His flowers were everything to him, and he felt like they could be what he needed to get by instead of school!

Even if he was curious about what it felt like to have friends that could talk back to him. His flowers were good enough, right?

V told him that flowers grow better when you talk to them, and he took that belief inside of his heart without question. Even though there was so much that he wanted to share with the flowers, he always ran out of time when the sunset. If he could’ve spent all his time in that little garden, he would have. Though, he was always sad on rainy days when couldn’t go outside and see his friends.

He would curl up on the couch with his plushie and stare up at the ceiling for a while, letting his mind wander with thoughts that seemed endless. He was lonely, now, even if he had a family of flowers and V with him. Maybe V was right, he wondered, maybe it would be nice to have some friends that he could talk to just as much as he loved talking to his flower friends. What if he was allowed to have both?

After a particularly stormy day and night that hadn’t let him go outside, Saeran practically leaped at the chance to go outside again. He didn’t even think to ask if V was going to come with him, his little legs just carried him through the house and out the backdoor as fast as they could. He found his way around the puddles and beamed, leaning over with his hands on his knees to inspect his friends.

They looked like they had gotten a lot of water overnight but after how dry it had been, he wasn’t too scared for them. He just wished that he had a chance to see them even when it was raining badly. His flower friends made his day feel a little bit brighter so seeing them made them was always a good feeling he had. He just didn’t know how to see them if it was raining so much all the time!

That’s when Jihyun appeared beside him, crouching down in the dirt next to Saeran with his camera in hand. Saeran cocked his head and looked at him, unsure why he had come to this part of their garden right away. He lifted the viewfinder to his face and pointed it at one of the flowers that he had been admiring, then he lowered the device and showed the image to Saeran.

With curious and amazing eyes, Saeran found himself staring at a reflection of the flower. He’d known that V took photos of things that were kind of like what he saw on the walls of their little house but those were all of the sky and stars. There weren’t photos of flowers in the house, there were a few paintings, but no flower pictures.

He didn’t realize that pictures could be taken of things that were on Earth. Technology was still kind of a fickle thing for Saeran. He had a hard time understanding how things worked, trying to figure out how televisions made their picture happen, how phones could call people if they didn’t have a connection with a string, how cameras worked, how lights functioned to off and on, how a sink made water, and more.

The house that he lived in with his brother didn’t have a lot of things. The kitchen they had was small and he wasn’t allowed in it. His brother would have to get him food and water, and if he’d ever walked into the kitchen without his mother dragging him in there, he would get hurt in the process. He never looked around. He always looked at his feet.

It felt like he didn’t know how anything worked. He always tried to guess how they worked, but the only answer that he could come up with was magic. It made sense in the storybook that he’d read once. Magic seemed like a really good answer, but he couldn’t ever find the fairy or witch that was making it work!

What made V’s camera work?

He was utterly mystified by what he was seeing on the device. He liked the photos that V took of the sky but… he never thought that this was something he could do. V always had a lot of big cameras that he would take outside during the day and night to take longer photos. He said something about exposure, but Ray didn’t know what he meant.

He just knew that whatever magic he did made those really pretty photos of the fluffy clouds come into their living room. V had hung the photo that Saeran liked the most in his room after he asked if he could look at the photo for a while. He thought that asking meant that V would let him look at his screen for a while, but he printed the photo out and put it up when he was asleep. It was a nice surprise!

He spoke up without knowing what he said aloud, “You… you can take pictures of flowers, too? I thought your camera only worked the sky.”

A small smile appeared on V’s face. He paused as if an idea came to mind, and then he leaned over and pressed the camera into Saeran’s hands. Saeran was surprised and looked down at the device in his hands. He didn’t know what to do with it. He was nervous he might drop it if V let him hold it, so he tried to hand it back, but V insisted with another gentle nudge towards him to keep it.

“Lift the camera and look at the screen,” V tapped his finger against the top of the camera where he was staring. “Notice how it shows you what you already see in the garden?

Saeran did as he said, and he noticed the world moved much as it did on television on that small screen. Oh, so, did the cameras that took pictures to take the videos, too? That seemed to make sense to him. He could see the Gladiolus reflected on the monitor. There were a lot of buttons that did things but he didn’t know what they did.

Saeran pursed his lips and looked back at V, “How do you make it work like that? I mean, how do you take the picture?”

“I’d be happy to show you. Can I?”

“Uh-huh.”

So, V adjusted Saeran’s hold on the camera. He helped him place one firm hand on the lens and another on the side of the camera. Then, he showed him how to focus the lens and how to clear up the picture. Saeran felt a little weird about it since this was his first time holding a camera but V was patient as his uncertainty slowly washed away.

He looked at the flower outside of the lens at first, then he looked at the screen again. Saeran thought about it. Would the picture look the same as the real thing? Would someone who saw the photo know exactly what Saeran felt when he was looking at the flower? Or, would they guess as to what he felt? Would they feel that fluttering feeling, too?

“When you want to take a photo, you hit the button. Go ahead, give it a try.”

Saeran hit the switch on the side of the camera and waited a few seconds for the image to show itself on the screen. A wide smile appeared on his face as soon as it did. He couldn’t believe it! He’d taken a photo and it looked just like his flower! Lowering the camera soon, he looked at V who was smiling, too.

He wished that he could show Saeyoung! He never took a photo before and this one reminded him of his brother so much! He was happy, so happy that he had been able to try something new, that he didn’t even realize that he had begun to giggle, “I did it! Dad, I did it! I took the photo!”

“You did a good job, Saeran. Would you like to keep trying?”

V ruffled his hair once again, the mint locks growing messy around his eyes as it would always do whenever the man did that. The breeze was no different, further messing up his hair but he’d decided he didn’t care about that. His hair could be as messy as he wanted and nobody would get onto him for it.

Saeran’s smile didn’t fade away this time. The prospect that he was allowed to try something more than just once was still a foreign feeling, but it was one that he wasn’t afraid of. “Do you mean it? I can take more photos? I don’t have to just take one of them? I can take anything I want?”

“Of course, Saeran. I’d be happy to show you how to take pictures of anything you want. There is no limit to what you can take. Those flowers, those trees, the lake just beyond them, the sky, the clouds, you, me, anything you want! I remember you said that you wanted to be able to see your flowers even when it was rainy… and this way you can. You can take pictures of as many flowers as you want.”

Saeran’s eyes sparkled with excitement. He turned away from V and began to look around the garden for anything that might catch his eye. He didn’t know where to start. He never expected to be able to do something like this! What kind of pictures would he like to see? Oh, could he take photos like V and surprise him the way that he did?

There were so many ideas running through him and he knew that he wanted to try all of them as soon as he could.

He was renewed with the idea that maybe, just maybe he would be able to send these photos to his brother somehow. Wouldn’t Saeyoung love to see them? He gripped the device tightly in his hands and set off into the garden leaving V as he went to take photos of everything. His eyes looking at the earth and the sky, taking photos of everything without feeling like he was being held down.

If he could have photos with him whenever he went off what he loved, he wouldn’t be afraid to try new things anymore. It wouldn’t be scary because he wouldn’t be alone. He could have the stars, the sun, the clouds, the sky, the flowers, his house, V, himself, and anything else that he could think of with him anywhere.

If it was printed or on this camera, he could have it any time he wanted it without having to make a fuss. He wouldn’t have to ask V if he could go outside first, he could sit at the table and see his things while he tried to do other things inside! The idea made him happy and the camera that was in his hand made him feel liberated.

Saeran wondered as if V would let him borrow his camera all the time!

—

Seasons passed and life changed just as quickly as the tides could crash against the shore of your favorite beach. It had been a few years since V had adopted Ray and ever since then, his life had been on a path that was leading him upward to the stars instead of down below to where waters lay underneath his feet.

Ray had been able to go to school and attend the same one that his dad had attended without trouble, and nobody once ever questioned him or thought twice about who he was. They all thought him to be Ray Kim, and nobody had any reason to think that he wasn’t who he said he was. They all assumed that he was who he said he was from the start and that had cleared up a lot of Ray’s fears.

It couldn’t have worked out any better. Ray had been scared to try new things for such a long time but the reality was when V gave him his first camera… It was like a whole new world of opportunity was handed to him. V spent hours showing Ray how to use his camera and he was a faster learner, constantly taking notes and tinkering with ideas that he had just as quickly as he read on what to do.

The camera meant so much to Ray that V decided to give it to him. He had the money to afford a new one, anyway, so he wasn’t too worried about that. It meant more to him that Ray had this thing that made him happy. He loved taking pictures a lot. It reminded V of when he used to use all of his time as a child drawing and painting, and when he saw that passion in Ray’s eyes that he had once seen in himself?

He realized what his mother had meant all those years ago.

She hadn’t been trying to pry into his life or make him do something she wanted. She wanted him to follow his heart. Through therapy, he was able to focus on learning that fact.

He wanted to show his mother that he could do what she did, or at least, what she tried to do. He wanted to support Ray’s dream to be an artist, to be a photographer, too.

Ray’s photos were… breathtaking and he only got better with time and practice. His skill was astounding, he was capable of tricks and feats that had taken V years to figure out on his own so it meant everything to know that giving Ray a camera had been the right thing to do. Even as he got older and studied hard, he never let go of his passion with his camera.

When he wasn’t doing his homework, or spending time with his gardening club, he was taking photos.

His skills were well-admired.

V knew that Ray had potential and he wanted to help him chase that dream even further, but he also knew that Ray’s face couldn’t be shown as the artist for now. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t worthy of a gallery with his name on it but he deserved something to prove how much his hard work meant.

He was stubborn, polite, hard-working, and determined to pay people back for kindness. He never asked V very much if he could help it. Even Jumin had commented that his son was rather selfless time and time again, jesting that he had been spending too much time with his father.

All and all, Ray had grown into an upstanding young man who had a bright future ahead of him, even if he couldn’t have everything. He had a family and friends that cared about him, and he was so very far from the little frightened boy that he had once been. Nobody would have ever believed that the boy with mint curls was once a redhead who lived in fear, clutching to his twin like he was a lifeline.

The RFA had prospered as well, though Ray wasn’t a member of the group.

He was anxious around big parties and crowds so it was better for him to avoid that. But, he still spoke to the members that were in the group that his Dad belonged to. He liked talking to Jumin, as it turned out, they had a lot in common. Ray was polite and formal when he spoke, and Jumin’d been like that all his life. So, they hit it off great.

There had been some trips V and Jumin took, bringing Ray along with them to the countryside since he couldn’t leave Korea for his safety. Ray often spent those days staring at everything he could find and asking Jumin about the history or background of the places they traveled. He loved to learn and listen, and Jumin loved to share that with someone. It humbled V to see his friend and son get along.

Jaehee was courteous to Ray as he often was with her, though, he was the first person to ask Jumin to make fewer cat projects to quote, “not stress Miss Jaehee out.” Ray liked to talk to her because she’d always listen to whatever he was invested in. He would, in turn, listen to her talk about Zen for a while. Their friendship was built on having someone close by who knew what it felt like to want to be heard.

Speaking of Zen, the actor spent a lot of time looking out for Ray… somehow even more so than Yoosung. It might have been because Ray was awfully small for his height and if someone tried to fight him, he’d probably lose before they breathed on him. Zen was always trying to give him advice about the world and Ray took it, but everyone would correct the advice if it turned into his dating advice.

Yoosung was the closest in age to him but they didn’t have a lot in common. They would share notes and study guides often if they shared a subject in school, even though they were going to the same school, but they talked now and again about other things. They surprisingly shared a lot of recipes together and would work to make them if the RFA was in the same place for an extended period.

Rika was around, of course, and Ray didn’t mind her too much. They didn’t talk often but she always checked in on him whenever she got the chance. Her dedication to herself had done a lot of wonders for her, but she still struggled with the fear that she might hurt Ray without meaning to so she kept to a polite distance from him apart from this or that.

V himself was trying his best to be a good father. He made mistakes now and again, but he was doing his best to be there for Ray when he needed someone. Ray had even started calling Dad a long time ago without thinking twice. It was an honor to be given that name, and he would be a liar if he said he didn’t cry that night after Ray went to bed. They spent a long time trying to be sure that bond was tried and true.

Ray had the life that his brother always wanted for him… with one exception to the very rule, he wasn’t in it. Saeyoung wasn’t in his life. He was trapped within the agency and the promise that he had made, but he still thought to this day that his promise was worth it. V couldn’t ever tell him anything about Ray the few fleeting times they got to talk about things on the phone, but he did know that the “cat” was doing better than ever.

Life was different.

But, at the same time, life was better than it had ever been.

However, as he thought about how sad it was that the boys couldn’t see each other, the gears in his brain began to churn. He wanted the boys to have a chance for something, but to give them a chance, he would have to be careful about what he did. As he looked out the window of his kitchen to the backyard, he saw Ray taking photos again, laying in the glass as he stared at the sky once again.

Could he give Ray and Saeyoung a gift at the same time?

V would have to think deeply about this.

—

Seven had received a simple invitation in the mail that wasn’t labeled and wasn’t decorated. It was a mint-colored letter that told him who it was from but wouldn’t reveal to Vanderwood, his handler, that it was a message from someone that he cared about. He had to wait a few days to open it because he had just moved into his new house and Vanderwood had to help him set up a lot of things.

When he opened the letter, he’d been surprised to see that it was a decorated invitation to visit V’s upcoming art exhibition. He was supposedly showing off new works that he had done as well as the works of his new assistant that had just joined him. That didn’t strike him as odd at first, but what did stand out was the message that V penned at the bottom of the letter.

There was just one sentence.

The cat will be there on display. — V

Seven was able to put two and two together. He realized that V was implying that his twin was going to be showing off art for the first time, underneath a pseudonym, of course, but he didn’t once think that his brother would be able to do something like that. He had no idea of the life his twin was living, what he did, what he loved, who he was now, or what it meant to be a part of his life the way that V was.

That was just it… he wasn’t apart of Saeran’s life. He was just his brother that had to leave him, and that was it. He hadn’t seen him in years and a part of him wanted badly to know how he was doing and what he was doing with his life, and this alone should’ve been enough to make him be sure that Saeran was safe and happy.

But, his stomach twisted in knots as he realized that he wanted to go. He wanted to go there and see Saeran in person if he could. It wasn’t a good idea, it was a dangerous idea, but the more he thought about his brother, the more he felt like he needed to see him. He didn’t want to risk any part of Saeran’s new life.

He didn’t want to be the wrench that destroyed everything that Saeran had, because if V was able to do these kinds of things for him, then that meant he was happy. It meant that he had nice ways of living now, and that he had anything he could ever want. It seemed good to know that much, at the very least. He stared at that invitation for the longest time.

He didn’t know what to do with himself because he was between wanting to go to see what he looked like all grown up and happy, but the other part of him warned that if he went, he would risk Saeran’s life all over again. Even if he was careful and lied about everything, it might still put a target on Saeran’s back.

Seven spent a long time thinking about it.

The choice was his to make and V didn’t say that he had to go. He just made it an option that he could choose to come if he wanted. If he could come, anyway. V didn’t know certain things for his own protection. He only knew Seven’s new address for emergency reasons in case something went wrong with Saeran and they had to run through proper protocol.

Should he go and risk it all?

Or, should he stay and keep this letter as a token that Saeran was safe?

It was a big choice to make and he didn’t know the right answer, and there was nobody to ask or talk to about the answer that he wanted to make. Nobody could make it for him and he had to do it on his own. That’s what he always had to do. He always had to decide things that were above his pay grade… it was the price of being the big brother, he always told himself.

In the end, Seven decided to risk it.

He made a plan for it and worked himself into the ground for days ahead of time so he would have a day off. Those didn’t come very often and Vanderwood wouldn’t bother him as long as the work got done. If he didn’t, they would drop by and remind him what was at risk if they’d shirked off when they didn’t need to. When they weren’t supposed to. Their lives were on the line and that was the truth.

The agency had never been like the movies.

It was much, much worse.

This wasn't the kind of life or you could just hack something and get paid for it. They did expect him to be able to do things without a single question. He was expected to absorb information like a sponge and that was all he had to do. If he couldn't keep up with everything that they planned out for him, then it would just end poorly. It would end the same way that Vanderwood had been telling him… in his death.

He didn't plan on dying anytime soon if he had anything to say about it. He was going to keep living because he needed to. There was no other choice in his heart. His brother needed him to be alive and that was the only way it had to be. It was the only way he was going to let it be. He was doing this so he could have the last bit of motivation in his heart to know that he was doing the right thing.

He kept telling himself that if he saw Saeran just one more time…

Just one more time.

It would never happen again and he would never let it be that way. It was a selfish desire because he had already wasted a lot of time by waiting until late that morning with his brother all those years ago. He couldn't leave his brother in the middle of the night. His brother was afraid of being alone in the dark and he waited for sunrise because if he could do anything that day, it would be to leave his brother feeling hopeful instead of the gotten.

He knew that it was going to take some time for them to be able to remove his twin brother from that place. It wasn't going to be easy and it wasn't going to be simple. He knew that it could take weeks for them to be able to remove him.

To leave Saeran was to break his heart. The only thing that he could offer him that last day was the sunrise. He wanted to be able to wash it with him but if his twin knew that he was leaving, he would have tried to come along. He couldn't let that happen. He could have never told him no and that's why he left the way he did.

Seven disguised himself the day of the event. If there was one thing he learned in the agency, it was how to dress himself up and look so unlike himself that he could wander around without fearing people recognizing him. He did have a few favorite disguises that he liked to wear. Even though the agency had forced him to do this because he was young and young people were easy to blend in with the crowd, he had been able to learn that he actually really liked dressing up. He never would have known that before this.

There was just something very validating about being able to dress up. It made him feel good about himself which didn't happen very often. The fact that he had this skill was definitely a comfort because if he was going to break all of the rules, he wanted to make sure that he was going to be safe. Anything that would stop him from putting his brother in danger was going to be for the best.

The gallery show was being held at the same place that he met V. He knew exactly where it was and he knew how to get there. For him to be able to confront it, he decided that the best way for him to handle it was to drive halfway there, and then walk the rest of the distance and get a taxi if he needed it. He was already covering his appearance but he wasn't going to take any chances with someone tracking him. He could never leave any loose ends for himself.

It took a little bit longer to get there, but he was able to get there in just the nick of time.

Seven allowed himself to catch his breath as he stood in the doorway and looked around the room. There was definitely a crowd that'd come to see the show, so it was hard to tell as to where everyone would be. He drew in this short breath and looked around again, trying to spot his brother in the sea of people. He felt dejected when he didn't see him, but he saw V after some scanning and found himself pausing to see what he would do.

"Thank you all for coming today, I hope that you are able to enjoy the collections of work that has been displayed today. What I have been working on myself pales in comparison to my assistant, they prefer to remain out of sight for their privacy, of course, but they want you to enjoy their collection with an open mind. Every artist puts their heart and soul into what they capture, and the reflection on the canvas is just the feeling that you can define for yourself. Whatever you see is what is in front of you. The same feeling that the artist feels when they decide to convey their emotions."

The crowd gave their gentle affirmation in response and cheered for his words. Though, Seven met his eyes and the man smiled back at him. It took away some of the anxiety that he was feeling. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to take the risk?

As the crowds dispersed and began to look around, Seven decided he would do the same thing. After all, nobody would know him underneath this long wig and costume, and since he hadn't seen Saeran, he wanted to see his photos. He managed to find where they were located in the gallery after passing what he knew to be V's unmistakable photos of the sky. He always felt really good whenever he saw those photos of the Galaxy, but he wasn't looking for that today.

The photos shifted from the stars to something else entirely, something he didn't expect to see. The first photo he saw was of the sky… unlike the stars in V's hands, this was the clouds. It was the bluest sky he had ever seen. The clouds were arranged in a pattern that looked like fruits to him, like a strawberry. Saeran had always loved the blue sky… this had to be one of his photos.

If he stepped some more forward, he would find a photo of all kinds of scenery. There were sprawling fields of flowers, beaches filled with shells, lakes and the lily pads that bathed them, even expansive gardens that looked ripe with love and care. It was overwhelming to see all of these photos because they were places that his brother had always wanted to see. It overwhelmed him to see it. Each one of those photographs was labeled with Assistant. It was all by Saeran's hand.

His twin had been able to capture everything that he saw. It was like standing next to his brother as he was able to experience these things for the first time. He missed out on seeing his brother's face for the first time when he got to witness all of this, but seeing all of these photos gave him a chance to have that experience firsthand. He could feel tears welling up in his eyes.

When he came to the end of the hall, he found the last photo.

It was a photo of a single red flower. He leaned over to look at the caption to see what it was called, this one was named Gladiolus. He didn't know that word. Was it the flower? Did it stand for something? It was such an intense looking flower. It made him question the feeling that he was experiencing.

"Gladiolus, named for the Latin gladius, meaning sword. In Rome, they stood for the gladiators that fought valiantly with their brothers in arms. They symbolize strength and integrity. In some cases, they can also mean remembering a Fallen Friend, or thinking of someone who meant everything to you," a humble voice spoke from the side as Seven stood there in front of the photograph.

"Interesting," Seven said, as he turned his head to meet V's gaze. Couldn't alright say what he was thinking. "Does that mean that this…"

V smiled. "Gladiolus grows often in my growing garden these days. My assistant cherishes them dearly because they’re a reminder of someone who he hasn't forgotten since the day he had to move on without them. There are plenty of portraits of flowers here, some of their meanings are listed underneath the photographs. Feel free to look at them all. I'd say this one is the most striking, though."

This flower was dedicated to his older brother… It was a photograph meant to truly symbolize Saeyoung. Saeran hadn't forgotten about him. It had been his biggest fear that his brother would move on and forget about him. Even though he tried to live without thinking about his brother in the life he was living now, he selfishly wished that his brother would still think of him fondly, if not kindly, but at most fondly.

Despite everything, his brother still thought of him after all these years.

V silently stepped to the side and Seven looked beyond him to see what he had been blocking. Across from him and on the other side of the room stood his twin brother, his hair now dyed a minty shade, and green contacts obscured his golden eyes, but there was no mistake. His brother was smiling and laughing alongside those closest to V, those that were in the RFA that V had told him all about.

Jumin Han and Jaehee Kang were conversing with Saeran, while Zen and Yoosung Kim had their hands on his shoulders, being the ones in the room who made him laugh. That was the thing he could see from his vantage point as the crowds were moving in and out of the way. But, there was no doubt about what he saw.

It looked like a family.

Seven felt his eyes welling up with thick tears for the first time in a very long time. He knew he was crying but he couldn't stop it. Saeran looked happy and free and it was all thanks to his Dad, V. He was speechless at that moment and he didn't know what to say. He rubbed furiously at his eyes but it did nothing to quell the tears.

This was all he ever wanted for his twin brother.

"I bought this painting for you," V broke his train of thought by saying something. "This is yours, after all. I know that you can't have any more than this, but that doesn't mean that you can't have a piece of him with you. It's very common for the people that you know to collect, isn't it? Who's to say that you weren't interested in collecting? Think of it as my gift."

Seven wanted nothing more than to hug V at that moment. He couldn't make a scene or be recognizable in any way, but he felt like the man understood what he was trying to say and convey. "Thank you, V… thank you. I don't know what to say."

Their time had run out as an alarm began to react on Seven's phone. V pressed his hand to his shoulder and nodded at him, "Even if the rest of the world tries hard to keep my sons separated, I'll do everything in my power to make sure that they can have a piece of each other to hold onto no matter where they are in the world."

"Your assistant has a very bright future, foster his skills," he smiled back at him despite the pain. He watched as V headed back to the little group with their family. Saeran hugged V and said something that Seven couldn't hear, but the happiness on his face was telling enough. Laughter and all sorts of things spread between them. The group began to talk amongst themselves and by the time that V turned around to see where Seven was, the lonely hacker was gone again.

Just as quickly as he had appeared.

As was the photo of Gladiolus.

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kanmom51 · 3 years

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JM JK timeline.- my observations how they grew over the years - 2017

Disclaimer: these are my own opinions and conclusions. Feel free to disagree, but hate or aggression will be unacceptable.

2017 - part 2

12 Feb 2017 – “You never walk alone” preview show. Who’s JM’s little cutie?

14 Feb 2017 – JM Twitter post – the boys with matching jackets. I know. I said not Twitter, but sometimes rules are made to be broken.

17 Feb 2017 – Hobi’s birthday. JM to JK: “stop coming to our room at night.” There’s something about JM throwing JK under the bus time after time. It’s like he enjoys to see JK squirm.

22 Feb 2017 – Gaon Chart K-pop chart – JK ushering Hobi to another seat, so that JK can sit behind JM. JM turning around see this, rolls his eyes and smirks.

24 Feb 2017 – KBS Music Bank comeback - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4_ASZuLeVk&t=156s

Another one of my favourites. A perfect example for both boys hesitance, wanting to touch, but just not getting there.

JM putting arm behind JK, but holding on to wall behind, and then matter of factually laying it on JK’s shoulder.

JM micro touching, or brushing JK’s hand with his thumb.

Prior to JM brushing JK’s hand with his thumb, JK’s hand is heart signing to JM.

The minute JM moves his hand away, you see how the expression on JK’s face changes, then he rubs his hand where JM touched him.

24 Feb 2017 fan meet – are they in actual F… sending flying kisses to each other?

25 Feb 2017 MBC music core comeback – JK moving Hobi aside, so that JK can stand behind JM. JK being JM’s number 1 fanboy.

26 Feb 2017 – Wings – you never walk alone fan sign. Really JM? What was that neck grab and what exactly were you doing there???? No, I don’t believe he kissed JK’s neck, but it sure was ‘out there’, so much so that Jin was in total shock when it happened. JK was surprised by it, and I think that even JM was shocked by his own actions waling aimlessly in what seems like the wrong direction .

28 Feb 2017 Run BTS episode 12. This one for me was cringe worthy, at some points I felt like an actual intruder. JK the detective and JM the prisoner. JK whacking JM on the behind (remember JK is the younger – how bold). JM’s private dance for JK. I know the episode was mostly scripted, but I seriously think JM was surprised by that smack to his behind. Also, the way JK was looking at JM when he was dancing all heart hands for him.

12 March 2017 - Wings tour Santiago Chile

Santiago day 2 – JK suffers from exhaustion. As he is taken back stage to a treatment room, JM is the one to race after the team into the room.

JM is in the treatment room when the cameras come in. He is standing there, and later, as the other members are walking in, JM is by JK’s side, helping the medical team lift up one of his legs.

The rest of the members come in together to see how JK is doing, and when the medical team suggest to take off JK’s pants, all the members leave the room. All except for JM, who stays there with JK the whole time.

JM leaves the room only together with JK, after he feels better and is able to walk out of the room on his own two feet.

Wouldn’t you expect RM, being the leader and all, to be the one by JK’s side? Or J-Hope maybe? Wouldn’t that have made more sense under the circumstances? Why JM?

Because, clearly JM is the one JK feels closest to, the one he can be himself with freely, the one he doesn’t feel embarrassed or needs privacy from.

JM may not have been a family member, but he was the closest thing to it. JM to JK is and was his home, his safe place, and most certainly the one to be by his side when he was in distress.

March 2017 BTS Live trilogy episode the Wings tour in Santiago Chile & Brazil.

March 2017 BTS Live trilogy episode the Wings tour in Chicago.

April 2017 3rd Muster dvd – the muster was at end of 2016, but dvd was released in 2017. During photo shoots they are being posed by the photographers. Yes, there will be authentic moments between them, but sometimes it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s being directed. That’s why I don’t always like to add these to my timeline. Even so, they were so cute, so I couldn’t leave this one out.

3rd April 2017 – BTS Front row live entertainment interview – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UotjcB_X4ag . What happened there?

This one intrigues me. I watched and re-watched the full interview several times, and for the life of me I can’t see what happened there between JM and Hobi that triggered JK’s reaction? JM’s placating look at JK, like telling him nothing happened… this one is used a lot to create the JK jealous narrative, and to be honest, I really don’t know what happened there. When JK turns back, JM looks into the camera with an uneasy gaze.

After that, most of the time, JM looks lost in his thoughts, not happy. Towards the end they are asked what artist they would want to collaborate with, and Suga’s answer makes them all burst out in laughter, all accept for JM. When he is asked and answers, you also see he is unhappy. You can easily see something is bothering him. JM just wasn’t his happy own self. He looked pensive. BTS did several interviews and had a concert that day, so maybe he was just tired or wound up, but he just wasn’t acting like himself.

April 2017 - Bon Voyage 2 Hawaii

Highlights of the highlights: The but checking and identifying (are we taking skinship to another level, are we??).

JK getting drenched at the beach, JK getting drenched period. Lol.

JK gobbling down piping hot Pizza so JM can eat.

JM playing footsies under the table with JK, all while sitting opposite V.

JK edging JM to come along calling him “Aegyo” = “Baby”. J

M making sure JK doesn’t go hungry, buying him food with his own money. JM taking care of JK.

JK and JM on same team – the joy… Spending the day together and just being happy.

Did JK really lose the game on purpose so he can be in the room with JM?

The amount of times we hear Jimin-ssi in every kind of cute and flirty way JK can say it…

Bonus:

22 April 2017 JK Vlive – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5n8y3D0Z9pM .

JK doing everything to get JM back to his room while playing loud music.

JK’s face lighting up when JM returns to his room.

JK telling JM he looks handsome without makeup.

JK pissed off when V comes in too, saying “why is everyone coming?”.

When V touches JK’s ear, JK pushes him away.

JM moving off camera to fix his robe, and JK not taking his eyes off him.

V putting his foot on JK’s back (this is something I have seen V do a few times, it’s not a gentle touch, to me it feels more like asserting dominance), and JM pushes him off.

And what exactly did JM mean when he said he has no talent for games but “I was quite good at it a year ago”? Only to be followed by the stare, OMG, the stare. Why, oh why did V have to ruin the moment, eh?

22-23 April 2017 Bangkok concert. Flirting on stage, attention to each other.

24 April 2017 Eat Jin Vlive with JM and JK - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MqxX_UGXSlY .

Jin complaining why JM doesn’t hit him like he did JK, so JM hits him too. Lol. JM stealing the steak JK cuts for himself, while JK lets him, smiling. The way JK just lets JM get away with anything, even interfering with the ultimate ‘ship’ - Jungfood.

3 June 2017 – J-14 magazine interview - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7rXl8uuUTY&t=306s . from 3.33min. to 4.37min especially.

Wtf was JM up to there????? It looks pretty dubious, especially when you look at the faces on the two of them when it was going on. Up to your interpretation.

2 June 2017 – Ceremonial first pitch at baseball match – Hanshin Koshien stadium - JK and JM’s jersey numbers – coincidence or not?

12 June Festa 2017 BTS BangtanTv – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWA6f7g7NUQ&t=2s.

JK’s intense stare at JM, when JM joined the others in with the others when they were laughing at JK eating everyone’s food but not ordering any for himself, which causes JM to immediately stop laughing.

Poor JK being blindsided when it was pointed out that the only one he bought a birthday present for last year was JM. Oops. (why oh why JM did you throw him under the bus like that??? You were curious? Really???? JM keeps doing this) Poor boy was so embarrassed. Hobi was the one to actually save him, stating how generous JK has become lately giving away his things that he didn’t need. JK never answered the question.

27 June 2017 BV2 special commentary live – JK getting all flustered when asked to explain the difference between BV1 and BV2. JM looking at him, enjoying every second.

4 August 2017 - KBS Music Bank Singapore. JK not loving on Taemin. The way he turns around the minute JM and Taemin interact, and the discontent look on his face…cold. He’s not a happy camper. He glancing in the direction a couple of times, but he is mostly turned away from them. And when JM runs up to slap Taemin in the butt, JK sees this, averts his head, and just keeps walking off the stage. He is clearly upset. Besides the obvious faces he makes, not waiting for Jimin when walking off stage is not something he usually does. Was it jealousy? Was it just a disliking of Taemin specifically? And if he dislikes Taemin, why is that? We can’t know.

OK now, I know I said that I won’t be doing Twitter, but this one I felt I had to (again, oops):

On the 6th of August 2017 JM posted a photo he took during their Hawaii trip (BV2). Why take this photo, and why post it? Do I really have to ask this question?

29th August 2017 the famous, or infamous People Now “arrest me” interview - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XgGxcMndEk8 .

I couldn’t find the actual date of this interview, but it was uploaded end of August 2017. I really enjoyed this one. Everyone talks about JK’s “arrest me” JM mishap during this interview. The members reactions are to die for.

Can someone tell me please what Suga told JK in Korean before they moved on?????

Also, JK’s reaction when JM said he wanted to collab with Suga (watch from 7:58min), was like:

W H A T in T H E actual F U C K???. LMAO.

Summer package 2017 – released August 2017.

JK and JM being all playful by the pool. JK letting us know how adorable JM is to him when he is swimming doggy style in the pool.

The one that stands out to me, though, is the ‘dream catcher necklace saga’. Felt a little uneasy to see that one, like I was witness to a lover’s tiff.

The boys were given a budget each to purchase themselves a gift. They are taken together to a gift shop, where they check the merchandise out and each buy themselves a little souvenir. When they all sit down to show each other their gifts, that’s when this moment happens.

JK takes out his gift. I once again want to emphasize, this is a gift he bought with his budget for himself. He explains it’s a dream catcher and says he will put it in his room.

JM, sitting next to him, takes it from JK and says: “this is a necklace Jungkook-ssi”.

JK blurts out adamantly that he won’t hang it around his neck.

This is when things get awkward, because you can see JM is clearly upset, throws the necklace back at JK and says: “OK, then”.

JM has a dream catcher necklace around his neck too, and when it’s his turn to tell what gift he bought himself he takes the necklace off and gives it to V, saying he bought the gift for V, who had a nightmare last night.

After JM’s mini tantrum JK, who previously adamantly professed he will not put it around his neck, does everything he can to put the necklace on, finally turning to JM to help him put the it on, which he does.

Later on, while sitting for the personal interview, with the necklace around his neck, he tells us how from now on he won’t have nightmares.

What did I get from all that?

Clearly JM was pissed at JK’s reaction. Why? JK clearly bought this by himself for himself.

But did he? Was it something he chose for himself, or was it something JM suggested to him?

JM also bought a dream catcher. Was that a coincidence? For some reason, I don’t think so.

My theory is that the dream catcher is something JM suggested or wanted JK to buy for himself, and JK reluctance to wear it offended him. JM clearly bought the other dream catcher for V. Perhaps he wanted both his boys to have one, and to him, JK’s comment felt as a rejection.

The way JK reacted to JM, his immediate change of attitude towards the necklace, trying to put it on, when only a second earlier he said he won’t put this around his neck, shows how attuned he was to JM, how he immediately realised he did something wrong, something to upset JM, and how he tried, in his own way, to atone for it, by wearing the same thing he but seconds ago rejected.

This brings me back to the point I made about the boys relationship, and them finding the balance. A perfect example to how there will still be conflict, but how JK realises, immediately, that he had done wrong and what he has done wrong, and immediately sets to right the wrong, hence to restore that balance.

JM throwing the necklace at JK. Also, notice the editor’s remark. JM’s anger is obvious not only to me.

To be continued...

#jungkook #jimin #jk #jm #jikook #jikook are real #jikook timeline #kookmin #bts #BV2 #jikook 2017

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Clean - John Winchester Smut

The one where John’s your best friend’s father

Warnings: smut, age gap, rough sex, oral sex (f), p in v, overstimulation, dirty talk, curse words

A/N: Day 6 of kinktober and I’m really exhausted and low. But here it is. Hope you guys like it. The prompts were overstimulation and bestfriend’s father.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I could feel his eyes on me from across the room. It was difficult not to, especially when it felt like my body was so perfectly attuned to his, permanently in search for his attention. But of course, because things couldn’t be easy, not only was he thirty years older than me, he was also my best friend’s father.

Sammy wasn’t even my age, which made it worse. Even he was older than me, as we’d met in college, where I’d been accepted even before I was of legal age. And now that we’d ran into each other after I lost everything and everyone I knew to a werewolf pack, he felt like it was his responsibility to take care of me, which is how I ended up in his family’s bunker, permanently stuck with him, his older brother Dean, their friend Cas - who was an angel - and their father, John. The muse behind every wet dream I’d ever had since our eyes had first met.

Life with the Winchesters - and Cas - wasn’t hard or bad. Most of the time I stayed at the bunker, perfectly content in helping with research - it was my favorite activity, after all. John had been scared of allowing me to join them on their hunts, saying I needed actual training that they couldn’t quickly provide, but these last few weeks had found us alone with each other more often than not, his hands over mine as he taught me how to pull the trigger of a gun.

That part was hard, ignoring how his touch made me feel electrified when he was so close, holding my hands in front of my body from behind and directing them towards a designated target, but not as hard as the cock I felt straining his jeans and rubbing against my backside in those same moments.

We never spoke of it, both pretending to not notice, but we knew better. And that’s precisely why I allowed him to run off into his bedroom immediately after our training sessions, without accompanying him to offer my help in return.

He was my best friend’s father. I shouldn’t. But fuck did I want to.

So that’s why these last few days, it felt like the temperature had been steadily rising between us, to the point where it seemed like we’d both burn up into flames at any moment. John had gotten back from a hunt five days ago and still hadn’t offered to meet me in a training session, something that struck me as weird, but I didn’t want to bother him, so I never asked for it, opting to simply wait for his invitation.

Now, I could feel him staring at me from across the room, and as much as I wanted to ask why, I didn’t. I just kept my head down as I tried to concentrate on the research Sam asked me to help him with.

Just as I was about to finally be able to focus, though, Dean decided to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

“Who wants to go to the bar?” It was an invitation made strictly out of politeness. He’d long ago given up on ever getting me to leave the bunker to “relax” in that kind of loud atmosphere, so I just granted him a sheepish smile, to which he chuckled. “Alright, I got it. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Sam, what about you?”

My best friend’s head whipped up from the book he was reading at the mention of his name, and it took him some time to tune in into what Dean was talking about. When he did, much to everyone’s surprise, he actually nodded, closing his book and stretching up. “Sure, I think I deserve some rest after this week. Are you sure I can’t convince you to join us, Y/N?”

John’s P.O.V.

She smiled, but shook her head at my boys.

“Nah, I’m good. You guys have fun. Besides, anytime you take me with you, someone ends up having to babysit me, and I’m sure the main reason you want to go out is to find someone to spend the night with, right?” Sam blushed, but didn’t deny. Dean, on the other hand, always my son, just chuckled, no embarrassment in his features.

“Well, a man’s gotta live.” What he didn’t add was that if she offered, he’d exchange all the skanks in the world for a chance to be with her. The only person who didn’t take notice in his obvious crush for her was her.

There was another thing that remained unspoken while the boys prepared to leave the bunker. The main reason why someone had to stay behind with her was because no other girl approached our table when she was around us. She just had that effect. We became so enraptured by her that no one else caught our eye, and so no one approached.

We didn’t mind. She took all of our attention when she was around, and she didn’t even know it. So it was safe to say that ever since she stopped agreeing to be dragged out into bars with us, we were grateful.

“Dad?” They hadn’t realized I had made no effort to get ready until they were already at the door.

“‘M not going tonight.” Her surprised eyes found mine from the other side of the room, but just like my kids, she didn’t say anything. In another minute or so they were gone and then it was only her and I in the bunker for the night.

I could see the tension in her shoulders from the other side of the room, and I almost chuckled. Perhaps this was only another sign in a long list of things that should show me how screwed up I was for wanting what I did, but I’d given up trying to fight it. I’d fucked woman after woman thinking about the girl in front of me, and she was still the only one I could think about when I lied down at night. So now it was time to get her.

“Y/N,” I called out to her a few minutes after the boys had left, wanting to give them time to possibly come back to get whatever item they might have forgotten, but when that wasn’t the case, I broke the silence that had fallen in the room without a second thought. “Come here.”

I could see even from the distance between us that she flinched at the sound of her own name. Had I startled her? She was a hunter, she couldn’t be so easily scared, but perhaps it was the tension that had appeared between us that made her uneasy enough to jump at anything.

Her head whipped up to look at me, but she didn’t immediately do anything, just stared, like she was unsure if I’d actually called her name or if it was only her own imagination playing tricks on her. When I refused to repeat myself, but still maintained eye contact with her, she slowly got up from her chair and made her way to where I was sitting, giving me the perfect opportunity to appreciate her body.

Fuck, she really was something. The way that jeans hugged her curves, showing off her tight ass, and how her breasts bounced with each step she took towards me. It was impossible not to be aroused - I couldn’t understand how Sam kept it in his pants. I knew for a fact Dean had eyed her quite a bit, because I was the one to remove any ideas of him ever getting with her with a single slap on the back of his head when I got him smirking down at her.

That kid was too much like me for his own good.

“You called?” She asked when she was finally right in front of me, her head doing that cute little thing where it leaned to one side as she nibbled on her lower lip, waiting for any sort of reaction from me.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

John’s stare was an intense kind of torture, one that seemed perfectly constructed just to break me down to my most primal state. I had no doubt he’d be able to achieve that. After what felt like hours of him undressing me with those brown hues that had seen so much more than he actually let on, he finally showed me some sort of direct recognition, sitting up straighter in the armchair he was sprawled on, before clearing his throat.

“Yes, I did call you. You see, Y/N, I’ve found myself in a sort of… situation, for quite sometime now, and I’ve tried everything I could to get myself through it. There’s only one thing left, now. You.”

My eyebrows flew up while I opened my mouth several times, in search of something to say. Still, with the little amount of information I had, all that was left for me to ask was “Me? How can I help you?”

By the way the corners of his lips twitched up - the closest thing to a smile coming from John Winchester - it was clear that while he anticipated my questioning, it still amused him greatly. I got the impression that he thought of me as something precious, innocent even, and while I couldn’t understand neither where I got this idea or why he thought of me like that, the truth was that it got me hot like nothing else.

“Considering you are the very reason for my problem, I’d say there are a lot of ways you can help me, sweetheart.” My heart had started beating more quickly, the innuendo in his words, the tension that had been ever-present in the atmosphere between us, it all made sense. But I still couldn’t believe this was actually happening, that he actually wanted me.

I didn’t want to do or say anything that let on what I was thinking about, because God, how embarrassing would it be if I had completely misread this situation?

John sighed at my lack of response, throwing a hand through his hair as he looked around the room before fixing his eyes on me again. “Listen, sweetheart. I don’t want to put you into a difficult position and I most definitely don’t want to force you to do anything you don’t want, I just think you might be interested in taking up my offer. I’ve seen the way you look at me, it’s not much different from how I look at you either. None of the boys need to know. This would just be between me and you.”

I was certain he was able to hear my heartbeat by now, but still, I forced myself to speak over the thundering sound resonating in my ears. “And what would that be, exactly? Your offer, I mean.”

John didn’t immediately answer, opting instead to run his eyes through my figure once more. I forced myself to contain the inevitable shiver, pondering how the hell was he able to feel so dominating while remaining seated, whereas I was standing up.

John’s P.O.V.

“I want to use you as my personal fucktoy,” I decided to get on with it, lay it all out in the open as soon as possible. There was no reason to hide, after all, I wasn’t exactly a blushing virgin and I wanted her to know exactly what she was getting herself into if she accepted my proposal.

“Now, I need you to really understand this, pretty girl. I’m not fucking around and I’m most definitely nothing like the boys you probably fucked up until now. When I say I want you to be my fucktoy, I mean you will be my fucktoy. I have a lot of pent up frustrations to deal with and I will not do anything other than use you. It will be rough. I will not be gentle.”

I watched with clear interest as my words registered in the girl in front of me. It wasn’t hard to see that she was interested in what I was offering, by the way she was biting her lip and changing her weight from one leg to another. I was willing to bet that she was wet already.

“Are you sure we’ll be able to keep this from the boys?” I smiled at how she called my sons, who were both older than her, and at her priorities. There was a reason I knew I should take the leap and look for relief in her. Instead of worrying about how rough I could be, she just wanted to know about the privacy of it all.

“Come here, sweetheart,” I asked, beckoning her to my lap. She obeyed with barely any hesitancy, which instantly aroused me. There was nothing I loved more than a girl who knew her place and what she wanted.

As soon as she was in touching distance, I pulled her to sit on one of my thighs, relishing in the tiny gasp of surprise she let out at the sudden movement. “You don’t need to worry,” I assured her, while wrapping a strand of her hair on one of my fingers, while my other hand secured her in her spot. “We’re both consenting adults, right? They never have to know about what we do when they aren’t here.”

Her eyes had been staring at my mouth as I talked, and by the end of my question she quickly raised them to meet mine again, like she was scared to be caught staring. A chuckle caught in my throat, I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck and pulled her to me. “Just come here,” I said right before meeting her lips with mine.

It was exactly as I imagined, her softness meeting my chapped lips with some timidness as I forced her to welcome my eager tongue. The tiny moan that she let out as I parted her lips to get my first taste of her went straight to my cock, making me groan before I adjusted her so she’d sit properly on both of my thighs, facing me.

Her hands clutched my shirt as mine explored her body, masculine satisfaction filling my chest at the knowledge that from now on, she’d be mine to take.”Wanna start being a good girl for me?” I whispered in her ear, fully enjoying seeing the goosebumps that rose up on her arms at the touch of my breath on her skin.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Yes,” I breathed out without even thinking twice, completely lost to the feeling of John’s warm, manly hands groping my body. His ever-present smell of whiskey and gunpowder was going straight to my head, making me feel like the world was swirling around us as he savored my lips, my jaw, my throat, his hands getting lost in my hair before grabbing my ass over my jeans, grinding me against him.

“Then get up,” he ordered, already helping me do as he said with his hands on my waist. When I was standing in front of him again, he ran his eyes through me one more time before continuing, “Now strip.”

I’d normally feel at least a bit timid of following his direction, but with John looking at me like I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes on, I found myself wishing that my clothes were already on the floor - especially since it suddenly felt way too hot in this bunker, the fluorescent lights a sun in itself.

First went my shirt, before I unbuttoned my jeans and let them fall down to my ankles. John licked his lips at the sight of my body in just my underwear, before telling me to step out of my jeans.

He didn’t need to tell me to proceed with my strip-tease, I did so instinctively, my bra quickly falling down to the floor before my panties followed the same path. John’s gaze had darkened considerably, and had become so strong that it almost felt like a physical presence over me, exploring my crevices.

“Pull out that chair, sweetheart,” he nodded towards one of the simple wooden chairs we kept by one of the dining tables, and although I quirked an eyebrow in his direction, I did as he said, positioning the chair to face him, before he tutted. “Turn it around,” he instructed, and I did so quickly, my breasts bouncing with each step I took. “Now brace yourself on the back of that chair.”

For the first time, I hesitated before doing what he wanted. With him still seating right behind me, I’d be quite literally giving him a vision of everything. But of course, that was precisely what he wanted, so I just resorted to doing exactly as he said, wrapping my arms around the back of the chair and leaning over so that my pussy was on display for him.

I didn’t witness any sort of reaction for a few seconds, and my heart was beating so loudly I couldn’t even hear his breath to be able to actually pinpoint if he was still seated or not. All I knew was that with each passing minute, my nerves stood on end, my nipples tightening in the warm air of the room while I could feel my wetness start to seep out of my lower lips.

But then, I felt his hands on the back of my thighs, his warm breath right over my most intimate part, like he was teasing himself with my smell before allowing his own satisfaction. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he whispered in that rough voice of his that always gave me shivers. Accompanied by a sweep of his knuckles against my most sensitive part, it almost made my knees buckle.

John’s P.O.V.

I had to stop myself from chuckling at how much my little actions affected her. I could only imagine how she’d look all fucked out, when I was done with her. “Hang there, sweetheart, I wanna get myself a taste.” Keeping her still by my grip on her legs, I buried my face on her pussy from behind, paying attention to the adorable little gasp she let out at the first swipe of my tongue. “You can be as loud as you want, pretty girl. The boys aren’t here to hear ya.”

I slowly collected some of the wetness already slipping out of her with the tip of my tongue, relishing in her sweet taste. I immediately needed more, needed to have it dripping off my beard, imprinted on my taste buds.

All calmness and control recklessly abandoned, I pressed myself further inside of her, only half-listening to the broken moans and gasps leaving her lips as she tried to remain in the position I ordered her to be in, while I lapped up her cunt with a vigor I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Fuck, you really are a sweet thing, aren’t you? I’d forgotten how great young pussy tasted. Hang in there, sweetheart, this might take a while.” It wasn’t my plan to spend so much time just eating her out, but she was just too delicious to leave without having her cum directly against my tongue. So I gave her my all, engulfing her pussy in my mouth as my jaw rubbed against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, my beard certainly leaving a burning sensation I could only take egoistic pride in. Finally, she gave me what I wanted, cumming directly into my mouth with my nose pressed against her little clit, and I drank it all in, licking my lips and hers to make sure I wouldn’t waste any drop.

She was still trembling and trying to catch her breath when I pulled away from her, rubbing my lips to chase the remnants of her taste. Then I paused, once again looking her up and down, from the tiptoes she was resting on, the back of her thighs until the perfectly presented cunt just there for me to take.

“Wait just there, darlin’, I think I might need a second taste.” By the time I was done with her, three orgasms later, she’d cum with my hands spreading her asscheeks, after I fucked my tongue inside her pretty little asshole, with a single finger inside of her while I bit on her thighs and finally, with three digits buried to the knuckle, as she begged me for a release I was more than happy to give her. Her juices were already dripping past her ankles, and as much as I wanted to lick it all up, clean her with my tongue, my cock had been throbbing inside my jeans for far too long to continue to be ignored.

Rising up behind her, I caressed the skin of her back as I tried to calm her down, while I kept one hand on my belt, prying it open. “There, sweetheart. We’re almost done, aren’t we? All that’s left for you to do now is to welcome my cock into that tight cunt of yours. Think you can do it?”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

My heart couldn’t keep up with what was going on. It felt like I’d just run a marathon, my skin all sweaty while my wetness dripped on the concrete floor below us. “Y-yes,” I answered with all the energy I had left, flinching at how hoarse my throat felt. “I can do it.”

John chuckled warmly, and it was with a jolt of excitement that I realized his cock was out, as he pulled me against his chest by my hair. “I know you can, sweet thing. The question is… how badly do you want it?”

He rubbed his cock against me as he whispered the question in my ear, and I gasped at how thick he felt, immediately comprehending what he wanted from me. “Please, John, I want it so bad. I want your cock inside of me, I need it.”

The growl I got in response let me know I had gotten it right even before I felt the head of his cock pressing against me, spearing me open. He shoved it all inside of me in a single thrust, not allowing me anytime to get used to the feeling of being so brutally stretched after he bottomed out.

“Now, darlin’, you just hold onto that chair and let me ruin you.” Pushing me against the chair again, he immediately started to pound against me, both hands so tightly holding onto my waist that I was sure I’d have bruised in the morning.

He wasn’t lying about ruining me. I’d never been so forcefully fucked in my entire life, and it wasn’t hard to see that I had John’s sexual experience to thank for it. “John!” I screamed out his name as I felt myself reaching that high again, my channel throbbing around him. He just kept fucking me with the same intensity, turning my sensitiveness into overstimulation in a second.

“John, please!” I begged as tears rolled down my cheeks from the way it all felt like too much - the feeling of being so filled, the way my clit ached and throbbed, my pussy trying to push him out and keep him in at the same time. Still, I couldn’t be certain of what I was asking for - for him to stop? To continue? Both ideas sounded equally necessary to me at that moment.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to be my fucktoy?” He asked threateningly, pulling me by my hair again so he could lick the salt on my cheek. “You can take it, sweetheart. You’re a big girl, aren’t you?” With a slap over my clit, I cried as my last orgasm suddenly intensified and I felt myself bursting with a white hot flash of an orgasm as I squirted all over our clamped legs.

When I finally managed to blink my eyes open again, I realized John was still hugging me to him, but he’d stopped moving. Then, I realized the mess between my legs was even stickier, and it all made sense.

“I forgot to ask you where I could cum,” he joked, kissing my temple before slowly pulling out of my abused pussy. He looked around for my clothes before selecting my shirt to wipe the excess moisture on our skins.

“It’s okay,” I explained as I tried to catch my breath, still frozen on the same spot and holding the chair, since I was scared my legs would fail me if I tried to move. “I’m on the pill.” Before I could say anything else, John picked me up bridal style and started moving us towards the bedrooms, making me wheeze in surprise. “Where are you taking me?” I inquired, confused and tired, but he looked down at me like I was suddenly gone crazy.

“My bedroom. I figured I’d let you soak in a bath while I take care of the mess we left in the living room. Then I can come back and hold you for a bit, before you fall asleep. How does that sound?” As hard as it was to wrap my head around the concept of John Winchester performing aftercare, I was too tired to even question, so I just nodded, smiling softly up at him.

“Sounds perfect.”

#smut #my fics #john winchester smut #winchester smut #john winchester reader #john winchester fanfiction #john winchester fan fiction #john winchester imagine #john winchester smut imagine #john winchester

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winterscaptain · 3 years

Text

co-regulating.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: following balancing out, an anon asked about aaron and mom’s first time after her recovery, so here it is!! our first fic of 2021! and it’s smut. who’s surprised? not me!! i’m doing blog housekeeping this weekend, so let me know if you want to be on taglist!

words: 1.8k warnings: smut (p in v penetration, creampie, very soft, quite tame), mentions of canon-typical injury and recovery, language

summary: “scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.” - cormac mccarthy, all the pretty horses. au!march 2021

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

You turn off the lights, crawl into bed, and slide under the covers, immediately rolling halfway onto Aaron and pulling his lips to yours.

He makes a little surprised noise and takes the back of your head in his hand, his other arm wrapping around your lower back. You run your fingers up his abdomen under his shirt, finally landing with your palm over his racing heart.

“Did you take your meds?” You whisper against his mouth. It wasn’t like him to forget, but his pulse had to be higher than a hundred. That might be alright for someone actively running a marathon, but for a fifty-two-year-old stabbing survivor with chronic health issues due to said stabbing it was less so.

He laughs. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. You’re fucking tachycardic.”

He shakes his head and kisses your forehead. “That’s your fault. And yes, I did take my meds.”

You hum. “Good.”

“Any reason in particular you ask?” He’s still the picture of fond skepticism - eyebrows raised and a little smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

You shrug. “Just got some clearances from physical therapy today.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” Your hand slides down past the waistband of his sweats, palming his cock through the fabric. He hisses through his teeth, his hips tipping up, searching for more contact.

His eyes flutter shut as you stroke him over his pants, your touch gentle and slow. He swallows thickly, his breath stuttering for a moment. “Are you allowed?”

“I have to take it easy,” you tell him. “But I’m allowed.”

He reaches down for your thigh, brushing up to your ass, and he inhales again, sharp, when he realizes you’re wearing one of his shirts and one of his shirts only. You oblige him and shift to straddle him, settling down against him and circling your hips for just a little friction.

Aaron’s fingers play with the hem and a little flash of anxiety jolts through your belly. He sees it in your face and lets go, dropping his hands to your hips.

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “Just got nervous about the scarring. I’m fine.”

Aaron tilts his head to the right, studying you. “Do you want to leave your shirt on? It’s okay if you do.”

“I know.” You take a deep breath and remove your shirt, your ribs only pulling a little as you lift your arms over your head. “But I’m good.”

Of course he’s seen you - he’s the one who dealt with your wound care when you got home - but this is the first real sex you’ve attempted since your injury. It’s silly to feel insecure, really. Aaron loves you from top to toe and you know it. He’s also got scars of his own, and you know they don’t impact the way you see him, but it’s new to you.

Scary.

Aaron’s hands slide up to your waist, his right thumb just brushing the angry, raised scar over your left side. You run your hands down his arms, coming to rest on his forearms. The pair of you just sit there for a moment, breathing together.

Co-regulating. You remember. That’s what this is called.

“Can I turn on the little light?” He asks.

You nod, knowing he can see you. One of his hands leaves you and stretches, sliding the dimmer on the bedside lamp just bright enough that you can see each other, but not so bright that it’s harsh.

His eyes soften as they wander from your hips, up your abdomen, and finally meet yours, watching him look at you. He wets his lips as he shamelessly checks you out and heat floods you from head to toe. You know he can feel it when you start to throb between your legs, your center pressed against his hardness.

“There you are.” His hands slide up, reaching your chest, brushing over your nipples with his thumbs. “I missed you.”

You smile, despite yourself. “Hi.”

When you nod, he presses his hips up into you and you lift up, giving him space to slide his pajama pants down enough to free his cock.

You settle back over him, grinding without letting him enter you as you slide against him. Bring a hand to the back of his head, winding your fingers in his hair while your other hand rests on his shoulder for balance.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Aaron’s head tips back and gentle hands guide your hips back and forth, coating him in your arousal. His next words come through an almost-desperate gasp. “I missed you. God, I missed you.”

There’s something in his voice that makes your breath catch, brings tears to your eyes. His eyes snap open and meet yours, his hands leaving your hips with fingers open and palms out. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no.” You shake your head. “I think this is what the kids call catharsis.”

He laughs a little and sits up, kicking his pants all the way off and gingerly pulling both of you to the top of the bed so he can lean against the headboard and bring a leg up behind you. “C’mere, honey.”

You melt into his chest, picking yourself up a little and slinging your arms around his shoulders. You feel his hand between you, guiding himself into you.

You tense with a little hiss through your teeth, and he stills. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing.” You kiss his cheek. “Just gotta go slow.”

He presses his cheek to yours, his other hand brushing over your back. “Okay. At your pace, sweetheart.”

You finally sink down with a deep breath, taking all of him.

The hand that was between you slides up around your back, finding a place at the back of your neck and holding you close. Aaron barely moves, thrusting up into you just as far as he can without jostling you too much, taking all your weight on his hips while supporting you with his thigh.

You take a shaky breath, the tightness in your throat hanging on until you let yourself cry into his shirt. Nothing hurts more than it should given your injuries, you’re not sad, but you missed him.

“Are you alright?” He asks, pressing his lips to your shoulder.

You nod. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything else. The hand on your hip begins to guide you so he can pull out further before sliding back in. You whimper.

The feeling of him moving within you is achingly familiar; he feels more like an extension of your own body than a separate being.

There’s no hurry, no rush, no aim in his movement. Neither one of you tries to get anywhere, preferring the proximity to anything else. You literally can’t get closer to him. When he bottoms out, you can feel the pleasure and pressure behind your cheekbones, in your aching ribs.

He’s a perfect fit. Always has been.

You tuck your face impossibly further into his neck, your lips locked to his pulse point, as your tears subside.

His heart rate has slowed significantly, beating steadily, without haste, under his skin. He wraps further around you, the hand on your hip crawling up your back to meet the other between your shoulders.

He doesn’t mean to, but he crushes you a little to his chest and you flinch, your ribs twinging.

Immediately, his hands disappear and he stills. You lean back and press your palms to his chest for stability, breathing as deeply as you can with your eyes squeezed shut until the pain passes. You open your eyes to Aaron’s concern, guilt coloring the lines around his eyes.

Bringing your hands to his face, you rub the tension away with your thumbs. “I’m okay, love. Just a little gentler. It’s okay.”

His eyes flutter shut, but you keep your eyes and hands on his face as you lift yourself again, feeling the intoxicating drag of him against your walls before you drop back down. He lets out the breath he was holding as he bottoms out again, his hands returning to your waist.

You lean forward, your foreheads meeting and noses brushing. His hands drop to your hips, guiding them to that angle that always leaves you both wanting for air no matter the pace.

Without fail, you find it together and the ribbons of pleasure curl up your spine, unhurried and gentle. You let out a breathless moan and Aaron steals it from you, capturing your mouth. Deepening the kiss, you drop your hands from his face to the nape of his neck, your fingers winding into his hair.

The pace never changes, remains slow and meandering, even as you both get closer to the edge. You almost don’t want to finish - didn’t think you would, really - but the pleasure nevertheless builds in your lower belly, your walls throbbing in time with your heart.

Aaron’s thumbs pass back and forth over your skin where they work your hips against him.

You reach your peak first, his precision and consistency tipping your body into a rush of pleasure that takes your breath and your vision. Aaron never frees your mouth, swallowing your cries as they leave you.

“Good, baby. Just want to make you feel good.” It’s a mumble as he finally wanders away from your lips, wandering down your jaw.

His command of your body prolongs your orgasm, drawing it out to a constant dull hum that thrums through you.

Aaron never falters for a second. You know he’s entirely focused on you, but he told you once that the focus only makes it better. The effect of your pleasure on him is clear when you open your eyes, even weighed down as they are by sensation.

Aaron’s eyes are closed, his breath leaving him in time with his movement inside you, his mouth pressed into a thin line. You fall forward into him again and his arms wind around you, gentle and mindful.

His orgasm seems to surprise him a little, his hips and breath stutter as he thrusts up and pulls you down by the hips, spilling deep into you with a short groan. You gasp at the pressure, the last dregs of your own orgasm fluttering through you with renewed purpose.

The two of you continue to move against each other as you come down, your body feeling looser and almost without pain for the first time in three months. Aaron’s hands trace up your back, smoothing over your skin and setting it alight. He softens inside you, but doesn’t leave your heat.

Aaron curls forward, pressing his lips to your collarbone and wandering down your chest. You let yourself tip back, supported by his hands, as he continues down your body until he reaches the new scar. His lips pass over it three or four times before you feel a firm, but gentle, kiss right over the center.

He straightens, bringing a hand to your face. “I love you.”

The words sound so simple in his mouth. They make you smile.

“I love you, too.”

+++

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#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #tali talks cm #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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janghoefett · 3 years

Text

One Last Time

[Anakin x F!Reader, Obi-Wan x F!reader]

Listen eye dee kay what possessed me to write this, but it was on my AO3 from my Ani phase. I am also surprised. Just figured I could just round out my repertoire a little bit 🤡

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ Pairing: F/M Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: An invitation to spend the night with your former flame, Anakin Skywalker, is the perfect opportunity for you and Obi-Wan to locate his base.

Warnings: Affair, but like it’s agreed upon? Conflicted feelings, p in v smut, oral (f receiving), crying. Love triangle.

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

“It’s been too long. Come and see me. We need one last night together.”

That’s all the note had said.

“If he takes me there, I can figure out where his base is,” you tell Obi-Wan, hoping he would finally understand the sacrifice you were willing to make.

“Please don’t go,” he pleads softly, his eyes foggy. “Please, my darling. I’m begging you.”

“Obi-Wan… please don’t make this harder,” you breathe. “Anakin won’t hurt me.”

The Jedi sighs, resting his hands on your hips. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he counters. “He will do anything to possess you—”

“But he won’t have me. I’m yours. Always.”

Obi-Wan cups your cheeks and presses a firm kiss to your lips, deciding he could only remind you of his love through his defeat.

—————————————————————

They had kept you away from the cockpit with the windows shuttered. You had tried visualizing your location as they took off, just as Obi-Wan had taught you, but at lightspeed it was useless. Despite the blatant secrecy about where you were going, the crew treated you like royalty. It was clear Anakin must have stressed your importance to him.

There’s a crisp chill to the air as you disembark into the enclosed landing dock and the sight of Anakin’s tall figure sends a shiver up your spine. You audibly gasp at the shocking sight; he looks the himself but weathered, with a tired, lifeless gleam in his eyes.

Anakin brings you into a close embrace, tilting your chin up for a soft kiss. “I missed you, my love,” he whispers.

You can only look up at him with wide eyes, suddenly unsure of your abilities to go through with what was to come. He takes you by the hand and leads you inside the white fortress. Your heart is pounding and you stay close to him, walking past countless stormtroopers and stoic men in black uniforms.

Anakin and Obi-Wan fell head over heels for you years ago. Anakin was the only one bold enough to declare his feelings for you and your relationship began. Obi-Wan continued his support and friendship, despite how much how it hurt him, and was there to pick up the pieces when Anakin turned. Though initially heartbroken over Anakin’s betrayal, you came to find that Obi-Wan was everything to you. He was safety, warmth, your home; you loved him fully and completely. There was no doubt about that.

Anakin, however, was a ghost from your past that you never found closure with...

He leads you to a bedroom. It’s white, like the rest of the fortress, with a large sleek bed just waiting for you.

“You’re nervous,” he remarks, pointedly.

“Anakin, I don’t even know where I am. Of course I’m nervous...”

“You don’t have to worry about that, my love. Trust me. It’s for the safety of both of us.”

You ignore Anakin's lack of transparency and move to the window. “Is this the Hoth system?” you ask, squinting your eyes at the sea of blinding white snow.

He chuckles. “What gave it away?”

You turn back around to see him smiling, watching you with that boyish grin. “You know… sometimes you’re still you,” you remark.

Anakin closes the distance between you, resting his hands on your waist. “Do you miss me?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

You had your information. But you couldn’t just go, not yet. You had to seem just as eager for this as he did and perhaps you were eager, in a way. When things ended with Anakin, you didn’t know when your last night together was. You didn’t say goodbye. The truth is, you missed him as a friend, as someone who was important in your life.

Anakin presses his lips to yours and wraps you in strong arms. He wastes no time, lowering you back onto the crisp white linens of the bed. He devours you this way for what feels like an eternity and your clothes disappear without notice. His defined body is as gorgeous as ever, causing your heartbeat to quicken at the sight and the memories you had of him.

Anakin parts your legs and lowers himself to your center before pleasuring you with his tongue. Obi-Wan knew intimacy was guaranteed from Anakin’s note, and he trusted you to the ends of the galaxy by letting you go. But you knew it hurt him profoundly and you could cry at the thought of a man other than him touching you.

So you lean into your thoughts about Obi-Wan for your own sake. Your eyes flutter shut. A smile crosses your face as you envision his blue eyes beaming up at you from between your legs, his copper-tinged hair falling on his forehead. Obi-Wan had gone down on you before, many times, and knew your body quite well because of it.

“Oh…” you moan shakily, catching yourself from saying Obi-Wan’s name to completion.

Your mind drifts elsewhere as the pleasure continues. Anakin had hurt you tremendously because you loved him so. You thought never wanted to see him again; you couldn’t take it. It was Obi-Wan who had put you back together again. It was Obi-Wan who brought you to new heights, physically. He owned every part of your being and he was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with.

As Obi-Wan’s lips come to yours, you find that his skin is soft and bare. His kisses are different.

Your eyes open and return to reality.

Without having time to think, Anakin’s cock is filling you completely. You can’t help but throw your head back in pleasure as Anakin leaves love bites up your neck.

You moan involuntarily and your hands claw at him. It feels so good; it brings you back to the way things were with Anakin. He begins to complete slow and thorough thrusts and your legs wrap around him on instinct. “I missed this. I missed you,” he whispers, caging you in with his arms.

“Oh Anakin…” you sigh, giving in. Your hands come up to caress his face as he fucks you gently.

Anakin suddenly rolls you over so you are resting upon his chest, continuing to thrust upwards at a fast and steady pace. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as your emotions get the best of you. With every pleasurable thrust you are reminded of your betrayal to Obi-Wan and your remaining attachment to Anakin.

“Don’t fight it,” growls Anakin. “Tell me this doesn’t feel right.”

Your lips meet in a sloppy, desperate kiss and your hips move together in rhythm. At this rate you were going to finish soon, and hard.

“Come on. I want to feel you again. Come for me,” he encourages as he fucks you harder. You oblige soon after, crying his name and holding onto him for dear life.

You lie there panting on his chest, your bodies pulsing with pleasure as you come down from your highs. It was like making love to a ghost, to a person who no longer existed. Perhaps he never did exist.

“I still love you, you know,” he whispers.

“I know.”

The Anakin of days past still held a place in your heart, too...

————————————————————————————————

The same crew and ship return you; Anakin had trusted you enough to let you return without a problem. You walk cloaked through the night, back to your home.

Obi-Wan runs to you, holding you tight, and you can’t bring yourself to return the embrace.

You couldn’t taint your dear Obi-Wan.

“Hoth. He’s on Hoth,” you say. It actually felt horrible to betray Anakin. But this wasn’t about him; there was nothing to be done for Anakin Skywalker now. This was about Vader and the Emperor. It had to end.

Obi-Wan looks back at you with deep-set concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I’m sorry,” is all you manage to answer. You walk wordlessly to the bathroom, stripping your clothes and running the water of the bath.

Obi-Wan’s heart shatters; he knows in that moment what had happened. You sink into the water and clutch your knees, just as an audible cry escapes your lips, and Obi-Wan comes in at your sound of distress. He sobs at the sight of you, kneeling to your level and clutching your naked form.

“Obi-Wan…” you sob, unable to look at him. “I love you.”

He tilts your head to give you a lingering kiss, soft and sweet. “I love you,” he rasps. Obi-Wan dips a towel in the water, running the warm wet cloth up your skin. “I’m going to wash it all away, my love.”

#anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #star wars #star wars fan fiction #fan fiction #smut

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

Text

🎄First Times🎄

A/N : This is an extra for my first ever series I Forgot That You Existed. Feedback and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Dad! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : Your and Tom's first Christmas with your baby girl.

Warnings : fluff

There's something about first times. The first time riding a bicycle, first love, going on your first date, first kiss. There's an unknown excitement in it, a thrill, a feeling of adventure. Those first times will always be special. Just like your first Christmas with your baby girl.

After 3 years of marriage you and Tom are proud parents of your one and only daughter Vienna. She was the apple of your eye after all she's your first born. The first time you got to know that you were pregnant was during one of your recording sessions when you suddenly felt nauseous and had to run to the bathroom to throw up. You knew this wasn't mere food poisoning from your past experience and to be honest you and Tom had been trying for a baby for quite some time after you finally decided that you are ready to embrace motherhood again.

You were rather thrilled than scared this time while you took the test and seeing the two pink lines made your heart swell as a few tears of joy slipped your eyes. When Tom returned home you just ran into his arms to reveal the news that you were expecting and joy knew no bounds for him. He immediately lifted you up and spinned you around in the living room in excitement.

The first time you went for your check up and saw your baby girl on the monitor Tom was literally sobbing. You were being very careful this time. During the last trimester Tom didn't want to leave your side at all. You had to literally throw him out of the house (pun intended) to go for his shoots.

You couldn't believe how time flew so fast that the little human you both brought to this earth is almost a year old now. It felt like yesterday you brought her from the hospital wrapped in a blanket in your arms and now she crawls around the house as well as has learnt to stand on her little feet. You never get tired of listening to her continuous babbles with some broken words she has learnt eventually.

And not to be surprised her first word was obviously ‘Dada’ ofcourse she was daddy's girl because the way Tom has spoiled her rotten since the day she was born you really are gonna have a hard time in future saying no to her and hearing that Tom went on a shopping spree that day, if he could he would have bought the whole toy shop you thought.

Christmas was around the corner and everyone was in their festive mood. You were in the kitchen baking cookies when your husband came down the stairs hastily.

"Honey where is my Christmas jumper?" he asks from across the living room.

"Tom, what is your obsession with that old jumper? Now even the jumper also says let me go Thomas." You joke from the kitchen. Tom huffs rolling his eyes.

"That jumper carries a lot of sentimental value for me. C'mon now tell me where is it?" he whines.

"It's in the left bottom shelf of the cupboard." You yell from the kitchen.

"I already looked there."

"Then look hard it's there only." Sometimes you really feel that you are actually looking after two babies.

Tom ran upstairs again to your bedroom where your 12 months old daughter was sleeping peacefully. He searched through the cupboard and finally found his jumper but the noise he made while doing it woke Vienna up. Tom turned to see his little princess sitting up on the bed with sleepy eyes.

"Oh did I wake you up bubs? So sorry peanut. Daddy was looking for his jumper." He went and sat beside her on the bed. She instantly got up on his lap, her little hands clutching onto his t-shirt as support and standing up. Tom forgot about everything and began playing with her, her little giggles making his heart melt. After a while she started to get a little fussy and Tom knew that his baby girl was hungry.

"I know baby it's time for you to have some brekkie, let's see what mommy is doing eh."

"Look who’s up." Tom announces cheerfully walking down the stairs. You turned around and your face instantly lit up seeing your morning sunshine resting her head on her daddy's shoulder suckling her thumb.

"Aww you are up my little pumpkin wait a moment mommy is almost done" Tom strolled around the house with her. He went and stood near the glass doors overlooking his snow covered lawn.

"Look at that peanut, it's snowing isn't it beautiful." He cooed, rocking her gently in his arms making her giggle. Tom was about to slide the door open to the lawn to take her out.

"Tom it's freezing outside, V isn't wearing enough warm clothes. She will catch a cold" You stopped him.

"Your mommy is way too paranoid." Tom says rolling his eyes dramatically looking at your daughter.

"I can hear you." You say in a sing-song manner from the kitchen. Tom makes his way to you in the kitchen.

"Here I can do the rest of the batch" he offers, taking the tray from your hand."My little princess needs to be fed first." He says and you take Vienna from his arms. Tom continued with preparing the rest of the batch of cookies as you fed your daughter.

Later in the evening you were busy decorating the christmas tree with Tom when you noticed Vienna playing and tugging on to some wires. You panicked out of your motherly instinct.

"Baby no don't touch it, you'll get hurt." You came rushing, taking away the lights from her small hands. She stared at you with her doe eyes for a while before crawling away to get the other decorating stuff from the box.

"God, she's such an active baby, never sits in one place." You shake your head smiling.

"Well she's my daughter." Tom says proudly.

"Okay Billy Elliot, now go and put Billy Elliot Jr in the crib or else she will not let us set up the tree." Tom did as you said as he placed Vienna in the crib when your attention went to the lights you were holding in your hands and you frowned.

"Tom, why did you bring the bigger lights?"

"Why what's the problem with the big one?" He asks casually.

"Tom the big ones are for the lawn and the small ones are for the tree. It has always been like that." you state in disappointment.

"For a change let's put the big ones on the tree this year." He suggests.

"No way! it will look odd." you say annoyed.

"Gosh you're such a control freak." he huffs.

"No I'm not, it's just my tastes are better than yours." You retort. Soon you both began arguing and seeing the tension between her parents Vienna started crying. Both of you stopped arguing as your full attention turned to your one year old and you both felt guilty of arguing in front of her.

"Aww baby did we scare you? We are so sorry honey." You rushed to her picking her in your arms, rocking her gently pacifying her. She stopped crying after sometime. You sat down on the couch with Tom beside you.

"We shouldn’t have fought like that on such a petty issue I’m sorry I over reacted." You felt sorry.

"No it’s my fault that I messed up the lights, I’m sorry Y/N" Tom apologises

"Hey it’s ok we can put the big ones this year." Tom and you leaned in for a reconciliation kiss but was interrupted by your little munchkin’s hand as if she didn’t want you to kiss Tom.

"Someone seems to be a little possessive." You pout scrunching your nose.

"Well what can I say my little girl loves her dad more, isn’t it princess?" He boops her nose gently to which she giggles.

"Don’t flatter yourself mister." you snicker.

"Aww don’t get disheartened, love." you slap his chest playfully.

"Shut up and do the rest of the decoration I need to put her to sleep, it’s almost her nap time."

"Okay mam." You took Vienna with you to the bedroom to put her to sleep while Tom carried on with the rest of the decorations. After finishing he went upstairs to call you for watching a movie together.

"Hey Y/N" Tom popped his head through the door.

"Shh!" You hush him immediately. "She just fell asleep". You whisper.

"Sorry." He mouths. I have set up everything. He whispers.

"Okay I’ll be down in a minute." You whisper back. You went down to the living room to find two cups of tea and snacks kept on the coffee table while Tom was lounging on the couch busy choosing a christmas movie to watch for tonight. You went and sat on the couch snuggling close to him resting your head on his broad chest, he smiled wrapping his arm around you. Even though you were totally enjoying parenthood, you also cherished these alone times with your husband. Just two of you cuddled close into each other’s warm embrace. The intimacy of the moment is so soothing and relaxing after a long day. You wondered what you did to get this perfect man as your husband with whom you brought an angel in your lives. You felt you have everything you could have asked for and you are grateful. Tom noticed you lost in deep thought.

"What’s going on in this little mind?" He taps on your head lightly.

"Just can't imagine she's already one. Soon she will go to school then college and a few years later she might bring a boy for the Christmas Dinner to meet with us and then get married and have her own children" you went on as Tom perked up.

"Woah woah slow down, love. You are going way too fast forward. And moreover she isn't dating until she turns 30." He says like a protective father, you let out an airy laugh.

"Look now who's been paranoid huh?" you raise a sly brow.

"Well you know there’s a lot of no good sons of bit.."

"Uh uh language." You interrupt.

"Sons of butterflies out there." He corrected his dialogue as you both chuckle softly turning your attention back to the movie playing in front of you.

........................................................

Taglist in bio.

#tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagines #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #dad!tom #christmas

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chocoholicannanymous · 3 years

Text

If the Spit Hits the Fan (Glee) Pt XVIII

This is the last part of this. Of a story that I was pretty certain I wouldn’t finish and just posted the bit I had in my scraps and snippets tag for a lark. You read that, and you liked it, and your response made me want to try and finish it. And so here we are, ~29k finished fic.

Thank you for the support.

Follows pt I, pt II, pt III, pt IV, pt V, pt VI, pt VII, pt VIII, pt IX, pt X, pt XI, pt XII, pt XIII, pt XIV, pt XV, pt XVI and pt XVII.

New York is big and loud and filthy and expensive.

Kurt's first apartment had been an absolute rathole. He'd shared it with four others, and his “room” had been a repurposed coatroom. There had been just enough place for a bed and a tiny table instead of a desk. He'd only brought the most necessary in way of clothing, and with the exception of two shirts hanging from a nail in the wall he'd been forced to keep everything in a suitcase under the bed.

He'd moved out after a month, tired of never being able to keep food in the kitchen, weary of the nicks surrounding the lock on his door – he'd replaced the old one day 1, but even the best of locks only went so far – and fed up with having to carry all his valuables with him at all times.

Luckily the Warbler network had activated and Trent's older brother had offered up his guest room (and if that wasn't a sign of wealth, a student in New York with a guest room, then Kurt didn't know what was) for the rest of the year provided Kurt find someplace else to spend the night on those occasions it was needed. During the fall it'd mostly been solved by Sebastian coming to visit and the two sharing a cheap hotel room, and during the fall by Kurt spending the night at Sebastian's apartment. It had been tempting to move in with Sebastian then, but Kurt had resisted and they both agreed they'd become stronger for it.

Living together had been tough, especially since Sebastian had a lot more money available than Kurt. They'd managed to find a balance though and looking back Kurt feels proud of the work they'd put in to make it work. Three years (and counting) together and these days Kurt is willing to proclaim that Sebastian is as much of a perfect boyfriend as it's possible to be.

Yes, New York is still loud and filthy and big, but it's also full of light and laughter and love. Kurt's learned to find his way around both city and school, and he's on track for graduation with excellent prospects. Life is good.

Of course, that kind of means he's overdue for a cold shower and unfortunately it comes as cold and icy as is possible.

“Blaine. I guess I should have known you'd turn up.”

Like a bad penny, Kurt thinks. His ex-boyfriend just smiles wider at the words, clearly not picking up on the undertones.

“Yes! I'll always come back to you, Kurt. We're meant to be – you're my soulmate.”

Kurt shudders. All these years, and he still haven't gotten over his negative reaction to those words.

“Yeah, I'm pretty sure you and I have different interpretations of what those things mean. Personally I can't see how someone who walked out of my life without a word years ago could be considered my 'soulmate', but that's me.”

“That's not fair! I never wanted to leave you, but my parents made me.”

Blaine does this thing with his face that resembles what Kurt remembers of Blaine's “I've apologized, sort of, and you should forgive me now” expression and Kurt thinks that if Blaine could see himself he'd never ever do it again. It's not pretty. It kind of looks like he's about to shit his pants, frankly.

“Right. Your parents. And why, exactly, were they so determined to get you out of Lima without saying goodbye?”

Blaine flinches, and Kurt can see the realization hit him. Strange. It's as if he never even thought about the possibility that Kurt would know about the lies Blaine had told. Emotions run across Blaine's eyes and face, one after the other, and Kurt just waits without even trying to figure out what's going through his ex's mind. He's beyond caring.

“Kurt, I... I, I have a confession to make. When I got home that last night, my parents, they were waiting up for me. They made assumptions, and I, I let them.”

Blaine's face twists, and a couple of tears start falling. Kurt would be touched, really he would, except he happens to know that Blaine can cry on command.

“I know I shouldn't have, I know it was wrong, I was just so afraid! I thought they'd throw me out, and so I kept quiet and did what they wanted. I'm so sorry I did that to you.

“I love you, Kurt!”

The thing is, he can remember when those words from Blaine's lips would make him melt. That's no longer true. Now he listens to them like he would a performance, and he finds them lacking. He should have gone for soft instead of intense, a hint of tears maybe, not volume and anger.

This isn't school though, even though it very much is a performance, nor is it worth critiquing. It's not worth anything, really. Kurt sighs a little, just wanting all of it to be over and Blaine to be gone.

“Here's the thing. I understand, I guess. In your shoes I would have been worried to tell my dad the truth too. I think just about every teenager out there would be at least a little afraid to tell their parents they got drunk and stupid.

“But I also think that just about every teenager out there knows that there's some kind of middle-ground between 'I got drunk and tried to rape my boyfriend' and 'my boyfriend drugged me and tried to rape me'. Except apparently you didn't. You just went with what would get you of the hook the fastest and easiest.”

“Hey! That's not fair!”

“Oh, it isn't? You doing what you did is okay, but me calling it what it was is unfair? Now, why am I not the least bit surprised that that's how you feel?

“You know, at first I didn't understand how you could do it. How you could say you loved me and then not just leave me, but let your parents believe that I would do something like that to you. Well, that you could let anyone think I'd do that to anyone.

“But as I said, I understand why you did it.”

A triumphant look flash up in Blaine's eyes. Oh, he's doing a pretty good job at hiding it – much better than he would have been able to as a teenager – but Kurt knows him, and he's looking for it.

“You threw me under the bus because you knew it'd be an easy out. You could have told your parents something else, anything else, but you chose the worst possible lie – one you had to have known would get me in trouble. You did it because it was easy, and it would get you of the hook – maybe even get you some sympathy instead of the punishment you deserved – and you did it because that was all you cared about. You.

“I always knew you were a bit self-involved, but I told myself it was just part of you being a performer. A healthy ego's pretty much a must, and I used to think that was it. Except it turned out you were so focused on you, and your needs and wants, that nothing else mattered. Certainly not me.

“It took me a while to accept, but I know now that regardless of what you said you didn't love me. Not really. You might have thought you did, but Blaine? Love means that the other person's just as important to you as you yourself are. And I never was that to you.”

He ignores Blaine's protests and just continues, projecting his voice to be heard over the barely restrained excuses and lies.

“The truth is that your lack of empathy and care for other people borders on Narcissistic Personality Disorder, and quite frankly I am better off for not having you remain in my life. Just don't expect me to thank you for it though.

“No one else will either. Do you realize how many people you worried with your little disappearing act? There was quite a few at Dalton who were convinced that your parents had shipped you off to conversion camp. They were counting down until your 18th birthday and from what I heard there was even the beginning of a fund to pay your way at Dalton if you escaped and were disowned.”

There's a triumphant gleam in Blaine's eyes. Clearly he's pleased about his friends being so worried about him and so ready to help him out. Kurt just wants to stomp that light out. Violently.

“Then when you didn't resurface after your birthday a few started worrying that your parents had you in a mental hospital, and there was talk of trying to stage some kind of rescue. That only lasted so long, of course.

“You see, somehow it's hard to convince anyone that their friend is practically jailed and in need of a rescue when they're seen out and about clubbing in L.A.. After all, these days everyone carries a phone, so the idea that you were unable to contact someone – anyone – and ask for help went up in flames pretty quick after that.”

Thad had been so angry that he'd made sure every single Dalton student that had ever know Blaine found out, and even the boy's most die-hard supporters had given up then and there.

They'd all understood not wanting to getting into a conflict with your family, especially when said family usually paid for college and any possible trust funds tended to be under the family's control for a while longer. What they hadn't understood was Blaine's total lack of communication. Email telling them that Blaine was okay but under orders not to contact anyone from Ohio would have gone a long way to ease worries, and was, they felt, the very least he owed them.

“Funny thing about you showing up here now? I can't help but remember that you turned 21 a couple of weeks ago. You didn't happen to get access to a trust fund then did you? Not that I actually care, but there are some old bets to settle.”

There wasn't, not really, but enough Warbler had warned Kurt about this very scenario with an added “I bet he shows up afterwards, thinking you'll take him back” for it to not quite be a lie.

Blaine splutters before launching into a long row of “explanations”, one more shitty than the other. It's obvious that he didn't expect Kurt to be angry with him, but instead to be welcomed with open arms. It's even sounding as if Blaine expected Kurt to take him back and just let him slide back into his life as if nothing had happened. Kurt isn't quite sure if Blaine intended for him to move in with Kurt and start a new life in New York, or if the idea was for Kurt to give up everything and follow Blaine back to L.A., but both options are equally ridiculous.

“Stop. Just, stop. I told you, I don't care. If you want to get in touch with any of your old friends from Dalton and McKinley and explain all of it to them, do so. But you don't need to explain anything to me. I don't want to hear it. Your window for explaining yourself to me closed years ago. It closed after you let your parents walk into a police station ready to have me charged with rape.

“Nothing you can say will ever make that okay. Nothing you say can make me forgive you.”

Kurt stops himself and takes a deep breath. There's so much he could say, so many accusations that could be made, so much hatred to be poured out.

Blaine's actions had gotten Kurt into trouble, and could have landed him in jails. They'd been what had stopped Burt Hummel from running from reelection after being asked – while nothing had come from the Andersons' accusations there had still been enough people who had known about it for it to leak and ruin a political career. After all, who cared if it was true when it made for a good weapon? And “local congressman buries son's rape charge” made for a great weapon.

Kurt had been willing to risk it, but his dad hadn't wanted to. Had it leaked the only way to prove Kurt's innocence would have been to make the video of Blaine trying to assault Kurt public. No good parent does that to their kid had been Burt's position, and Kurt had been grateful.

That didn't mean he wasn't aware of exactly how much that had cost not just his dad but the whole state. The man who'd replaced his dad had been the kind of bigot that wasn't good for anyone, not even his followers.

Kurt still blames Blaine for that, and even if he'd been insane enough to consider forgiving everything else he's never forgiving that. The chance of making Blaine understand any of that is minuscule though. The chance of him caring is even less.

There is, simply put, no point in spending even another second on trying to get through to him.

“You're not welcome here. Please leave. Goodbye Blaine.”

Once the door is closed and locked behind Blaine Kurt finally relaxes. He's closing the door on Blaine in more than one way, finally able to truly do that – because regardless of what he's hoped he's always known that one day his former boyfriend would pop up again.

“If he comes back you're filing for a restraining order.”

“He won't come back, Sebastian.”

“You don't know that. He did today, didn't he?”

It's obvious that Sebastian is coming from a place of care and worry, and Kurt feels himself soften. Blaine hasn't just been the monster under Kurt's bed during all of these years.

“Yes, he did, and no, I guess I can't really know. But honey, I really don't think he will. Blaine was reminded today that actions have consequences, and he found out I have the means to ensure said consequences. Coming after me and trying to change my mind is more work than he's ever shown himself willing to put in.

“After all, he's not the kind to stick around when the spit hits the fan.”

Luckily Sebastian is.

~ The end ~

#chocoholic fics #kurt fic #kurt hummel #sebastian smythe #kurtbastian #itshtf

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blu-joons · 3 years

Text

DATING NCT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Park Jisung

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Being touched isn’t something that Jisung is particularly huge on, so he much prefers to be the one to initiate affection so he can decide on what he likes. He’ll usually tend to hug you from behind as he’s tall and can rest against you.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

You were reluctantly dragged to a football game by one of your friends, and just so happened to be sat beside Jisung. You were instantly drawn to how passionate and invested he was in the game, however, when he cheered one goal and sent his drink flying into your lap, he never imagined the first words he’d say to you were sorry.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Somehow, you reluctantly agreed to accompany him to the last game of the season for the team and endure yet another football game. You didn’t realise it, but to Jisung, it meant a huge deal that you went because you knew how much he watched to watch games. It was enough for him to realise that perhaps you were the one for him, recognising that you did things for him that even his closest friends wouldn’t do.

D ⇴ DATES

Whenever the two of you enjoy a date, it’s a necessity that you either go out for food or order food in, Jisung is forbidden from ever cooking dinner for your dates as it always ends badly. Neither of you are people who enjoy sitting around at the dorm on your dates, but whilst you don’t necessarily enjoy sitting down to watch a sports match, you’re always more than happy to make sure that you beat him at a game of air hockey at the arcade or win the biggest toy at one of the stalls at the local carnival that’s in town.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

Jisung has zero experience when it comes to dating, so he’ll rely on his hyungs a lot to give him a few pointers and learn from any experiences they’ve had. Whilst most of the members are yet to date too, being the maknae, some of the sunbaes are more than happy to help him out too, particularly Baekhyun who takes him under his wing. They don’t want Jisung to mess up either, even if they do like to mess with him from time to time and try and sabotage any dates that he might have prepared for you.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

Whatever Jisung puts his mind to, he does, and sometimes that includes arguing with you. It certainly takes a while for him to stand down in an argument, particularly if he truly believes that he’s done nothing wrong. He doesn’t enjoy arguing with you at all, but when he strongly believes in the point that he’s trying to prove, then it’ll take a while for him to even try and listen your point of view. Eventually, you’re usually the one that makes the breakthrough and decides that things aren’t worth it anymore, and even though Jisung might carry things on for a little while longer, he eventually gives up on it too.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

You were introduced to his big brother before anyone else as Jisung wanted to get his approval first. Seeing the two of them together instantly brought a smile to your face, and it didn’t take long before their duo became a trio, and his brother began to treat you as if you really were one of the Park family too.

H ⇴ HOME

Jisung had no plans to move out of the dorm, he enjoyed having so many elder brothers to look after him. However, he knew that a bunk bed was no good for you, so as your relationship became more serious, he tried to fight a little harder to get a single room that could give the two of you a bit more privacy too.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

He was the first to say, ‘I love you,’ when with the help of Mark, you arranged for you to surprise him at one of his shows on the tour. All of them had been telling you how much Jisung had been missing you, and so you decided the only way to try and make him feel better was to go and surprise him and completely overwhelm his heart.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

As the youngest, the other members definitely liked to tease him from time to time and try and push the boundaries. For the most part, Jisung knew that it was just banter between him and his friends, but there were also a few times when he’d find himself getting jealous too. He’ll try and not let them see that any of their comments are getting to him, but you’ll always be able to tell when he starts getting a little quieter and his laughter becomes a little more forced that he’s not enjoying their teasing anymore.

K ⇴ KIDS

Having children was a subject that was pretty off limits for the two of you at your age, neither of you ever really wanted to look too far into the future at the best of times when you were still so young and had so many years ahead of you. If anyone would even try and ask you about children then you’d usually be pretty quick in shutting them down, not wanting to think about your future family for a little while just yet.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

You’d often find yourself laughing at Jisung because he was forever bumping into things. You’d never met someone quite as clumsy as him, you failed to understand how one person could break so many things and hurt themselves so often, but somehow Jisung found a way. As much as it would hurt when he was forever bashing his hip against the side of a table or stubbing his toe on a door, hearing your little giggles in response to his mishap would still bring a smile to his face, even if he knew your laughter was at his expense, just knowing that you were laughing was always a huge, and a happy deal for him.

M ⇴ MISSING

Whenever he was missing you, every member rallied around him without fail. He’d try and be strong and convince them all that they had nothing to worry about, but despite how often they teased Jisung, he was still the youngest, and so they had a duty to care for him, especially when you weren’t around. However, it wouldn’t stop them teasing him still, one of them would often try and get in his bed as the little spoon or play with his hair whilst they were flying to try and make it seem like you were still there with him. But no matter how hard any of them tried, Jisung knew all too well that it never compared to having you there too.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Jisung had a tendency just to call you, ‘love.’ It was the first every nickname that he used for you, and so it always held a bit more of a significant meaning for the two of you than any other nickname that he decided to use.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your hands, he loved how they felt in amongst his big hands and how easily it was for him to wrap his hands tightly around your smaller ones.

P ⇴ PDA

Jisung’s love for your hands translated into his affection whenever the two of you were in public. Despite not being huge on affection, he wanted to keep you safe in the chaos, and so he’d always hold onto your hand because it was his favourite thing about you, and also enough that still made him feel comfortable when out and about.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

His determination meant that he often tried to run before he could walk, which didn’t always end well. Whenever Jisung had to ask you for help with something he hated it, he’d be reluctant, and pouty, but you’d always offer your services anyway.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Jisung loves his hat collection but will quite often notice that one or two are missing, and that’s usually down to you. As you often remind him, his hats are the perfect solution for when you’ve had a bad hair day or when you know that there’s fans lingering outside of the dorm. He usually doesn’t tend to mind if you take one, but if you take any of his favourites, then trouble will most definitely be coming your way.

S ⇴ SEX

Intimacy is usually the time when Jisung is most open to your touch, there are still a few times when he finds it all overwhelming, but for the most part, he’s happy to feel your hands explore his body and not allow himself to close off too much. As well as this, you’ll feel his hands explore your body a lot more during intimacy then you do during any other occasion, although you try not to react, you usually can’t help but smile.

T ⇴ TEXTS

Jisung doesn’t tend to text you too much, he’s quite forgetful at the best of times and will often completely forget to reply to your texts too. He’s always quick to apologise, but it’s a habit of his that you very quickly get used to.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

In amongst the chaos that came with his crazy life, you were the one constant that Jisung adored. He never imagined that he’d find love at such a young age, but the time was right, and he had to accept that as he could.

V ⇴ VACATION

When he had time off, Jisung usually preferred to spend it doing nothing at the dorm and enjoying your company. He travelled enough when he was on the road that just being able to enjoy his own home for a while was what he preferred and knowing that you were there too was the icing on top of the cake.

W ⇴ WHINING

If he wants his own way, Jisung will be sure to let you know about it. If he has his heart set on something from you, he’s relentless until he gets it.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Jisung uses his height to often kiss the top of your head, as he much prefers kisses to cuddles. The easiness and speed of kisses are his favourite things, whilst he might not always like to be touched, he doesn’t mind receiving a peck on the cheek or the lips from you from time to time. He loves to use his height to his advantage whenever he’s kissing you, and crane around your smaller frame to get access to where he wants.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were a comfort to Jisung, his life was hectic, but you were always there to bring him back down.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

Jisung tended to sleep in the living room as a result of the bunk beds, which would often mean the two of you were curled up on the sofa. It wasn’t ideal for either of you, but if it meant you got to spend the night with him, you’d take it.

---

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