#so HARD for me to finish meals in a timely manner like it’s just difficult lmao

[karinyosa]

they should make food thats convenient and easy to eat in under like an hour

#food #ask to tag #so HARD for me to finish meals in a timely manner like it’s just difficult lmao #it’s not an appetite thing it’s not a self punishment thing like it’s truly an interest and attention thing #i could be eating lunch intermittently for like 2-3 hours. 4 on a bad day #karinyo.txt #UNLESS! you give me like chicken nuggets or whatever the fuck #or like sausage and rice #like i do have a weird ‘’easy foods’’ thing idk if it’s quite the same as having safe foods but there are parallels #pleasing and easy to eat. usually some kind of homogeneity to it #like ramen is ine #ground beef w rice. sausage like i said #if there’s like chicken on the bone and i have to get the chicken off the bone as i’m eating #it’ll take me forever i’ll get bored KFBDNDJ #im literally like a toddler is the problem #boneless chicken im ok with but it’s not quite an easy food #chipotle i will eat up. sorry authentic food enjoyers #fried chicken can be kind of an exception to the chicken thing i have no fucking clue why #crumbchy #if it’s not something like that then im like god why is it suchc a drag to finish an entire meal

[pompomqt]

Journey to the West Chapter 20

Tiger demon throwing his skin over a rock to distract Monkey and Pigsy:

This chapter of Journey to the West with @journeythroughjourneytothewest is pretty exciting to me, because it's the first time Tripitaka has been kidnapped on Sun Wukong's watch. This is the first time since those two have been together that Tripitaka is truly in danger. So lets get into it shall we?

So we start this chapter with Tripitaka composing a poem in celebration of leveling up thanks to mastering the Heart Sutra. And as just something to pass the time I suppose since they've been traveling for a little while without any problems.

So the group eventually comes across a house and decide to ask them for some food and a place to stay- but not before Pigsy complains about being hungry and Monkey and Tripitaka both scolding him for complaining and not wanting to be here. Pigsy however insists that he does indeed want to continue the quest and the Monkey is just giving him a hard time.

So Tripitaka goes to the house and greets the old man living there, while giving his usual spiel about their scripture quest. The old man however says that it is extremely difficult to receive scriptures back from the western heaven. Monkey takes offense to this and tries to goad the man into letting them stay, by saying "If you're house is to small, just say so! We'll just stay outside and not disturb you." This leads to Monkey also giving the old man his whole life story, which convinces him they will be able to make it to the west after all, so he decides to let them stay. Although he seems to regret his life choices when he see's the third member of their party Pigsy who is even uglier then Monkey. And I'm starting to think we should make a drinking game for every time the phrase 'Ugly but useful' comes into play...

At this time, the old man's family comes home wondering who all these people at their house are. Pigsy then starts flapping his ears at them and terrifying everyone while Tripitaka then rushes to soothe the family. Once they group gets settled where they are staying the night, Tripitaka scolds Pigsy and Monkey for their poor manners in scaring the family. And Pigsy say's he's actually been on his best behavior since traveling with Tripitaka. Monkey tells him to shut up and fix his ugliness. Tripitaka asks Monkey- known shapeshifter how Pigsy- also a shapeshifter, how Pigsy can fix the appearance he was born with. Rather then shapeshifting however, Monkey just tells Pigsy to hide his snout in his shirt and pin his ears to the back of his head. Which Pigsy does.

The Old man comes by to serve them tea and a meal and with some prompting tells them that a little further west from here is a mountain called Yellow Wind Ridge of Eight Hundred Miles which is monster infested, but since Monkey has some abilities he should be able to handle it. Which Monkey agrees to saying that between him and Pigsy they'll be just fine. So with that warning out of the way- the group finishes their meal, with Tripitaka and Monkey eating two bowls, while Pigsy eats all the rice in the house. Yeesh, no wonder his old family wanted him gone, he really does eat places out of house and home...

The next morning the old man see's them off and says they will be welcomed back here if they have any mishaps on their journey. Monkey then says not to jinx them, and that they never retrace their steps. And with that the group heads off once again, traveling for half a day before they reach the mountain the old man had warned them about.

On their way up the mountain a sudden whirlwind starts up, startling Tripitaka and Pigsy, who insist that it isn't a normal wind and they should take shelter. Monkey however isn't daunted and says he'll just seize the wind and smell it. Which he does rather literally using magic to to catch some of the wind and give it a smell. Monkey then reports that the wind smells like a tiger or monster.

Speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, since as soon as Monkey says this a tiger leaps out at them- scaring Tripitaka off of his horse. So Pigsy leaps into action attacking the monster with his rake. Which the tiger responds to by standing up on two legs and Ripping It's Own Skin Off. Dang. In Tripitaka's defense, I would probably fall of my horse at that to. The Tiger then introduces himself as a Vangaurd for the Great Yellow King, who's job it is to catch some mortals for him to eat. Pigsy in turn introduces them as the disciples of Tripitaka and scripture monks.

So Pigsy and the Tiger demon start duking it out while Monkey gets Tripitaka sorted and settled. With that done, Monkey heads off to go help Pigsy while Tripitaka starts reciting the Heart Sutra.

Once the Tiger see's Monkey coming though, he panics and tries to flee. And once they start closing in on him, the tiger throws his skin onto a rock to distract them, while he turns into a gust of wind and kidnaps Tripitaka! Guess that Heart Sutra didn't do much to protect him in the end...

So the Tiger demon takes Tripitaka and shows him off to his master, bragging that he is great Tang Monk from the land of the east. The Master however is worried about Tripitaka's rumored disciple Sun Wukong. Oh, and Pigsy to I guess. So they decide not to eat him just yet in case the two disciples come by to cause them problems. So Tripitaka is bound and tied, but not in immediate danger of being eaten just yet. Tripitaka takes a moment to hope his disciples come and save him soon, and also has himself a little cry. As a treat.

We cut back to Monkey who gives the tiger skin covered rock a whack and discovers that they've been tricked. So Monkey fears the worst and immediately zooms off to check on Tripitaka, only to find that Tripitaka is long gone. So the two start freaking out that Tripitaka has been kidnapped, and Pigsy even cries a little. Monkey however tells him not to cry and that he has to be somewhere on this mountain so they just have to look for him.

So Pigsy and Monkey search the mountain for a while before finally finding a suspicious cave. So Monkey tells Pigsy to take care of the luggage and horse and that he will deal with the monster. So with Pigsy out of the way, Monkey prepares for battle, and yells into the cave for them to send out his master before he murders them all.

So the little minion demons hear this and freak out and report the message to their boss. So the Cave Monster is all like "I told you so! You could have just brought back any old thing, but noooooo you had to kidnap the Tang Monk and bring down Sun Wukong's wrath on all our heads!" But the Tiger Demon is just all like "Pfft relax, I'll just lead some soldiers and we'll capture and eat Sun Wukong to!" So the Cave Demon gives his okay to this plan, even saying he'll become bond brothers with the Tiger Demon if he succeeds- but not to come crying to him if he doesn't.

So the Tiger Demon chooses their fifty strongest minion demon's and goes out to face Sun Wukong. So Sun Wukong once again demands that they send out his master if they want to live. But the Tiger Demon instead decides to tell Sun Wukong that they plan to eat Tripitaka, and will capture and eat him to if he fights them. This majorly pisses Sun Wukong off, so he immediately goes in for the kill. This demon showcases why you really shouldn't piss Sun Wukong off, since he is barely able to fend him off for a few rounds before he finds himself hopelessly outmatched.

So the Tiger Demon starts fleeing for his life- but since he was so boastful to everyone earlier he can't flee into the cave, so instead he flees towards the mountain slope, and by pure coincidence passes by where Pigsy is grazing the horse. So Pigsy takes in the situation, and see's the fleeing demon and Sun Wukong giving chase, and decides to kill steal. So Pigsy smacks the Tiger Demon with his rake, showing that it is indeed a formidable weapon against anyone but Monkey.

So Mokeny congratulates him on his nice save on killing the demon before it could escape again. Monkey then tells him that he can just keep staying here while Monkey takes the Tiger Demon's corpse to go pick another fight, and Pigsy tells him that he can feel free to chase another fleeing demon here for Pigsy to kill if he wants.

So with that the chapter ends, with the Tiger Demon dead- but Tripitaka still captured.

Current Sun Wukong Stats: Names/Titles: Monkey, The Stone Monkey, The Handsome Monkey King, Sun Wukong (Monkey awakened to the void), Bimawen (Banhorseplague), The Great Sage Equal To Heaven and Pilgrim Sun. Immortality: 5 Weapon: The Compliant Golden Hooped Rod Abilities: 72 Transformations, Cloud-Somersault, Ability to transform his individual hairs, super strength, Ability to Summon Wind, Water restriction charm, and the ability to change into a huge war form, ability to duplicate his staff, ability to immobilize others, the ability to put others to sleep, and the Fiery eyes, Diamond Pupils, intimidating horses, churning large bodies of water, sleeplessness, seizing the wind and enhanced smell. Demon Kill Count: 4+ Unknown Number of Minions Human Kill Count: 6 God's Defeated: 19 + Unknown number Defeats: 2 Crime List: Robbery, Murder, Mass Murder, Arson, Theft, Coercion, Threatening a Government Official, Resisting Arrest, Assault, Forgery, Employee Theft, False Imprisonment, Impersonating a Government Official, Treason, attempted murder, failure to control or report a dangerous fire, desecrating a corpse, breaking and entering and trespassing. Cry Count: 3 Mountains Trapped Under: 1

Current Tang Sanzang stats: Names/Titles: River Float, Xuanzang, Tang Sanzang, Tripitaka Abilities: Curing Blindness, making branches point a certain direction (allegedly), reciting sutras, pretty privilege, memorization and Heart Sutra. Cry Count: 12 Tight Fillet Spell Uses: 5 Paralyzed by fear: 4 Bandit Problems: 2 Kidnapped by demons: 2 Falling Off Horses: 5

Current Bai Long Ma Stats: Names/Titles: Bai Long Ma (White Dragon Horse), Prince of the Western Ocean, and third prince jade dragon of the dragon king Aorun Abilities: Transforming into a human, a water snake, and a horse, eating a horse in one bite, and flight. Crime List: Arson, and Grave Disobedience. Contributions to the plot: 1

Current Zhu Wuneng Stats: Names/Titles: The Marshal of the Heavenly Reeds, Zhu Wuneng (Pig who is aware of ability), Zhu Ganglie, Pigsy, Idiot and Eight Rules. Weapon: Rake Abilities: 36 Transformations Demon Kill Count/Kill steals: 1 Failed Flirtation/romances Attempts: 2 Cry Count: 1 Crime List: Sexual Harassment, Murder, Kidnapping and arson.

#jttw #journey to the west #jttw read through #journeythroughjourneytothewest #sun wukong #tang sanzang #zhu wuneng #Man neither the heart sutra or the horse did anything to save Tripitaka from being kidnapped #Also do no not threaten to eat Sun Wukong's master if you want to live #and cheers to pigsy for being useful

[hunkjodiefoster]

Chapter 7: The Engine Eternal And Its Creator

Characters: Melanie Cavill, Alexandra Cavill, Andre Layton, Bess Till, Ruth Wardell, Josie Wellstead, Bennett Knox

Warnings: Fluff

The two woke up a few hours later, it was the afternoon now, in a few hours it would be the evening, Melanie took a shower and Alex was going to go to the engine room to check on the others, they were all very concerned about Melanie’s physical and mental health, even Josie, which was hard to believe since Mel practically murdered her...well she did kill her by filling up the room with the cold outside air and escaping her and leaving her to die. Josie knows Alex needs her mom, that’s really the only reason why she would care about the issues relating to Melanie. Out of concern if her mom needed anything she chose to ask just in case.

“You need anything in there?!”

“No, I’m fine, thanks for asking!”

“No problem!"

Alex put some clean clothes on the desk chair along with a brush and a hair tie and left a note saying all she did was go talk to the pirate gang and that she didn’t go anywhere.

***

Alex walked out of the bunk and into the engine to find Ben at the helm writing down some notes in a notebook, Josie was fiddling around with some wires at one of the light towers, Bess was reading a book while drinking a tiny bottle of alcohol, Alex guessed she just found lying around, Layton was walking towards Alex holding what looked like a bowl of oatmeal.

“So” he started “what’s going on with her and you?” they both sat down at the chairs

“She’s...recovering, more in a grieving way but yeah she’s doing better, I’m still not sure though, it’s only been like 2 days so that’s barely any time for her wounds to heal”

“Oh yeah I was going to ask about that, is it like a burn or-”

Alex cut him off “It might’ve appeared like that but no there are two pretty big stab wounds not really, let’s just call them that for now”

Andre had a puzzled look on his face.

“Okay so imagine two spears stabbing you but it did not impale you” Alex raised her eyebrows

“Okay I get it-” he nodded

“Yeah, besides that mentally pretty bad, physically not the best ethier okay pretty bad” she gave him a sarcastic smile

“Has she had any food? I’m assuming she has” he took another bite of oatmeal

“Yes, she made breakfast a few hours ago, she’s a good cook and that makes me half-supprised for whatever reason”

“How come?” he questioned

“Well for one thing I don’t remember at all her making me a meal in my childhood ever, another thing, she’s so” Alex impersonates “ ‘me going to crush the con man taking all my credit!’ and ‘let me go cry myself to sleep’ at the same time…..she’s a difficult person to understand but that’s the beauty of it, one of these days I’ll figure it out. What do you have everyone doing? Whatever they want?”

“Well no, as you can see Ben is doing his normal thing, Till is…” he looks over at her and she’s asleep on the ground again “-doing her own thing and Josie is trying to repair some of the internals for the outside paneling...okay so I guess everyone is doing their own thing but everything is aye okay” Andre chuckled.

“Well thanks for the update, I’m going to see how she’s doing” Alex smiled at him and got up, walking to the door she realized manners still existed

“Melanie, can I come in? It’s me, Alex”

“Yeah come on in!”

Melanie finished putting her hair in a bun after putting on the black T-shirt Alex left on the chair.

“Hey hon”

“Hi, how was your shower?”

“Nice, it always wakes you up, especially when it’s either freezing cold or steaming hot”

Alex walks over to the desk to see what Mel was reading earlier, it was just some records for updates for some boards in the light tower.

“So is it okay for you to head out of your cave now?”

“I wouldn’t call it a cave, more like an I get to spend time with my daughter area but that works too, yeah I’ll have to say something to Josie, or I should just say nothing at all”

“What happened between you two anyway?”

“I froze her to death out of self-defense, I’m not going to elaborate but let’s say I did intend to hurt her only because I had to, to keep ‘order’ like ‘him’”

“Wow” Alex snuck behind her to give her mom another hug out of real kindness “come on, it’s time”

***

Melanie was the first one out, Alex came second, they headed to the front to see the others, Melanie ran her fingers against the walls of her creation admiring it, Alex watched in awe thinking on how much the train meant to her, it felt like it had been forever since she saw any of them. Till was the first one to notice her.

“Melanie? You look like shit, how’s the parenting going?”

“Very mature of you, you too” Mel ignored the parenting question “How are you and Jinju doing?

“We broke up right after the revolution, I don’t even know if she’s still alive”

“I’m sorry to hear that, I hope she is alright, do you mind if I have some?” Melanie pointed to the flask Bess had on the table

“Go for it” and she handed it to Melanie, Alex was looking at some graphs and she left her alone for not even five minutes and Mel was already about to consume alcohol.

“Mom no” Alex swiped it out of her hand “this will only make your healing more painful and miserable, trust me” she gave it back to Till.

“Your kid’s smart, she’s right, it will make it more miserable, plus this isn’t the greatest shit anyways”

“Come on ma” Alex pushed her towards the helm where Ben was sitting, he just turned the train on auto-pilot ‘How convenient’ she thought.

“Get up Ben, go eat some ice cream or something” Mel smirked

“Yes boss, I don’t think we have any- hey! ” He laughed as he got up to go look at the weather screen

“Where’s Javi by any chance?” Meanie questioned

Alex answered that hesitantly “Jupiter got ordered- I’m sorry, but I do think he’s alive” Alex looked down at her feet. Melanie’s expression changed from happy to a murderous rage burning up inside her.

“Then we know who else to get when we get back...anyone else I should know about?”

“That’s all I know for sure but I don’t think Ruth is getting treated the best over there too”

Melanie was now not the happiest camper knowing that her two closest friends were probably being treated like slaves or worse.

“Are the boards in good condition?” Mel asked directing it towards Ben

“Um yeah they’re fine, also we are having more bad weather so that’s just a fyi” he quickly answered also knowing she was in her murder attitude again.

“Well let’s get her rolling at a steady speed and let’s do this thing and hopefully not die in doing so”

“Yes boss” he walked away

“Well Head Engineer Cavill, on your orders” Alex put a hand on her right shoulder smiling down at her. Melanie pulled a soft smile and reached for her hand to hold it, Alex now knew that holding her in some way was the key to her heart.

“How about now?” Alex nodded in response

“Alright let’s fire up the boosters!”

#melanie cavill #snowpiercer #snowpiercer netflix #snowpiercer tv #jennifer connelly #alexandra cavill #ruth wardell #andre layton #joseph wilford

[lightwise]

I would love to hear some of your Tech thoughts for the Character Ask thingie.

Hello my friend! Thanks for asking about our precious baby boy Tech. Season 2 made me fall in love with Tech so much and I don’t need to elaborate on how hard the finale hit me. Tech has helped me understand some aspects of myself better, appreciate/hold better space for the differences in other people that I know, and is just a beautiful representation of neurodivergence onscreen that I am so glad we have.

Tech

one aspect about them i love - Yeah so I can’t narrow it down to just one, but I’m going to go with: his love for his family, his snarky sarcasm (aka telling it like it is), and his humility. Humility might sound like a strange word choice for a man who knows how brilliant he is and how unique his abilities are, but one of his key strengths is not only being able to calculate the odds of almost any situation around him, but also knowing when he can’t, or doesn’t have enough information/data to calculate a probable outcome. Many people with way less brilliance than him would make even an educated guess or try to sound like they know what they’re talking about all the time, but Tech is so confident in his abilities that he has no problem acknowledging when he is hitting up on the limits of his understanding. 

one aspect i wish more people understood about them - I think we all understand this in this corner of tumblr, but I continue to see people in other spaces think that he is rude or awkward or just “smart and nerdy.” There’s a huge difference between being rude or smart, and processing everything about the world in a different manner than the average person, which we know as being neurodivergent. For a sci-fi/fantasy show, all of the Batchers’ “enhancements” could have been presented only as positives, as extra capabilities that regular people don’t have, that make them all “special” and incredible soldiers. But thankfully, they chose to make them complex and very human, by showing the difficult and sometimes unpleasant ramifications of those very enhancements. For Tech, his way of processing things leads to very blunt, direct communication, difficulty in knowing how to handle raw emotions in real time (both his own and others), and a tendency to forget that other people haven’t figured out the same things about a situation that he has. The resulting disconnect, hurt feelings, and difficult conversations in his relationships isn’t intentional but is something he has to navigate on a daily basis. That said, similar to Crosshair, his actions speak loudest, and his intense love for his family is always evident in the ways he is willing to do anything for them without hesitation.    

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character - he is so an iPad kid. I wonder when he built his first datapad, if he tried to hack any of the Kaminoans’ systems, if he has always had his corner of their room strewn with wires and abandoned projects and research materials. How many times did Hunter have to tear it out of his hand to get him to finish a meal in the cafeteria, or hide it so that he would get some sleep. I also wonder if he’s ever been awake at night while Echo was having a nightmare (building off the headcanons I’ve seen that Echo sometimes mutters binary code as he has nightmares from Skako Minor) and translated the code even without meaning to. He would never share what it means though out of respect for Echo. 

one character i love seeing them interact with - Omega. It may have taken more time for him to warm up to her, but even early in season 1, Tech is always ready to catch her as she jumps down from any height, holds his hands out to her if she needs to steady herself, and often puts his hand on her shoulder unbidden. For a man who seems to be uncomfortable with physical touch and doesn’t typically initiate it, this melts my heart every time I see it. And of course their growing bond in season 2 and their conversation in The Crossing where they finally begin to understand each other’s needs and how to communicate better is one of the best moments in Star Wars, period, for me. “I may process moments and thoughts differently than you, but I do not feel any less” makes me tear up every time I hear it. And that the understanding goes both ways, and both of them make an effort to interact with the “language” that the other person is most comfortable with. Huge character growth. I also love how Tech loves imparting his wisdom and knowledge to her and Omega loves learning it. They’re just such a great duo. 

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more - I so desperately want to see him and Crosshair together again. “Just because I understand you does not mean I agree with you.” What would their conversations look like after Crosshair is rescued? How would Tech’s difficulty with emotional complexity, and Crosshair’s layers of hurt after trauma, brush up against each other as they tried to rebuild their relationship? Would Tech’s joy at having him back give Crosshair space to open up? Would Tech let him know that he’s forgiven him and despite his confusion and hurt, he is ready to move forward together? Could Tech’s ability to busy himself with a task at hand and requesting Crosshair’s help give them some time and space together where words aren’t needed to heal? I also honestly want to see Tech and Phee together again. I would love to know where their relationship could have gone, and what kind of conversation/apology/mutual understanding they might come to after the way they parted. 

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character - I bet that Tech was teased and bullied a lot by the regs (and probably experimented on by the Kaminoans along with his brothers) as a cadet. I think that all of the boys would defend him but that especially Hunter would take note of his particular needs, hand him back his goggles if he had been roughed up by someone, and in general look out for him/take care of him and protect him. (I think Crosshair did this too). I can just see Hunter ruffling his hair and helping him calm down after a panic attack or becoming frustrated over something.  

#character ask game #tech #tech tbb #tech bad batch #somelightramblings #some light ramblings

[v-thinks-on]

Finally, luncheon with Lestrade came to an end and the inspector took his leave, to return to his investigation with my and Watson’s observations in hand. Watson put on a cheerful face through the meal and ate as I did, like a starving man, but it was not difficult to see that underneath it he was troubled.

Therefore, when we were free at last, it was with some impatience that I ushered him back into our rooms at the inn and he obliged.

However, when I had turned the key in the latch, granting us a little privacy, he stopped in the middle of the small sitting room we had been provided and insisted, “I am fine, Holmes, do not trouble yourself.”

I approached, drawing myself up to my full height and facing him as I might an evasive client, and said with a scoff, “My dear Watson, what do you take me for? The crease in your brow, the turn of your lips, your bowed shoulders; they all tell another story. And for months something has been troubling you.”

For an instant the flush of anger flashed across his features; I saw the hard set of a soldier, provoked into action.

I reached out without thinking, as if to restrain him, but by the time my hands reached his, my rational mind prevailed, and I gently lifted his warm, calloused hands in mine with a manner one might describe as beseeching.

He let out a sigh and all of the tension keeping him upright fled with it; his head fell upon my shoulder, the fine hairs tickling at my cheek. I wrapped one arm around his waist to hold him near, though I feared he was already far away.

“Is it Mrs. Watson?” I asked despite myself. “Do you regret…”

I mercifully did not have the chance to finish my sentence, as at the mention of his lawful wife’s name, Watson immediately righted himself. Unthinking, my grip tightened around his waist, though I knew at his word I would have no choice but to release him.

And then he captured my lips with his with all the force of his troubled mind, and all thought gave way to chaos. I felt him flush against me and pressing nearer still. I lost my footing and stumbled back against the sofa, for one desperate instant afraid that we would pitch back, but Watson pulled me upright, our lips separated, but bodies no further apart, him now looming over me.

“Don’t you dare, Sherlock,” he hissed, his cheeks flushed, and a dampness in his wide eyes like smouldering embers. “Of course I regret that I could not be the husband she deserved, but nothing more.” He huffed out a shaky sigh. “I know I’m hardly your equal either.”

“John!” I could hold my peace no longer. “Is that what this has all been about?”

Watson slumped down onto the sofa, and I followed him to hold him close, though he remained bent forward. I saw his chest rise and fall with ragged breaths, slowly steadying. His hands clenched and unclenched, the muscles still wracked with tension.

With a sighing exhale, he raised his head to face me, unflinching despite the tell-tale marks of shame. “My apologies, Sherlock, that was unworthy of me.”

“It was not all unwelcome.”

That elicited a fleeting smile, which I longed to keep, but it swiftly gave way to something more serious. “I have just been feeling old and tired of late, as though I am of no use to anyone. It feels not so different from those early days, invalided from the army without health or purpose.”

“You know I find your aid invaluable,” I remonstrated.

Another ghost of a smile crossed his lips, but he merely shook his head.

I wrapped my arms around him and drew him close against my chest, as though that might somehow convince him, and he wrapped his arms around me to draw nearer still, warm and solid, but I feared there was little more I could do.

“You needn’t come to remunerate Mrs. Watson for her waylaid mince pies, that at least I ought to be able to manage alone, though I expect I will be outnumbered.”

That caused Watson to sit up in surprise. “You mean she will bring a friend? However did you deduce that?”

“We are not so far from the residence of one of my young relations, who I believe to be a particular friend of Mrs. Watson.”

I saw the realisation dawn bright in Watson’s eyes. “You are right, we are not so far from St. Mary Mead. In that case, perhaps I’d better come.”

“Excellent, my dear Watson!” I clapped him across the back, and briefly pressed my lips to his for good measure.

#v writes #Sherlock Holmes #ACD Holmes #ACD Johnlock #H/W #John Watson #December Calendar Challenge of Awesomeness #prompt: Mince pies #today is opposite day because the previous and next chapter are both about pies #new favorite chapter!

[sunniestshark-ocs]

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

(OC Emoji Asks, for Nanouk)

Emoji ask game

💢:

Nanouk has a very direct way of confronting things- no sugarcoating, no trying to soften the blow, no regard for the other person's feelings. Having a conversation with her is very much not everyone's cup of tea, which is fine because conversing in general is not Nanouk's cup of tea. She tends to make more sensitive people upset by how she delivers her words, but it's hard to argue back with her because she only bothers to speak up when there's something that needs to be fixed. (People also tend to not want to argue with her much anyway. There's a bit of a 'she might kill me' reputation around her even though she's never unjustly punished or attacked anyone

Less upsetting, but still difficult to get used to, are her speech mannerisms in general. Nanouk talks fast, often talks out loud to herself, and has a tendency to dolphin her thoughts in a conversation- while she can connect all the dots of what she's saying, she doesn't verbalize all the information the other person needs, so they get kind of a jumbled mess of thoughts that they either have to sort through or risk annoying her by asking to clarify.

🙈:

Honestly, Nanouk is one of the few OCs in the roster that is genuinely not hiding anything about herself. What you see is what you get, she doesn't care if you find out she has some weakness or odd habit because she doesn't believe it matters. If you find out a weakness, it's an opportunity for her to improve it. The only thing that Nanouk has ever kept a 'secret', (mostly through omission), is her Zanpakuto's actual abilities (in Bleach, and her Theric abilities in Ghosttowns). People made assumptions and never asked, so she's never clarified.

🔪:

Nanouk will accept personal responsibility only for the things within her control, so she pretty much never blames herself for misfortune that befalls her loved ones- when Lina Manaan, her closest friend and the former captain of the 13th, died, Nanouk was absolutely livid and seeking retribution. But not a single thought was spared to wondering what she could have done to change it. It happened, and instead of dwelling on what-ifs, Nanouk will dwell on 'what happens nexts'. She doesn't outwardly react to injury/misfortune of her loved ones or treat them any differently. The only time Nanouk really reacts to these types of things is if someone is to blame, or attacked them, or caused the accident. That's when you get the cold, icy brunt of her ire and her absolute drive to get revenge or justice.

🔫:

Nanouk, perhaps surprisingly against her outwardly suspicious nature, gives as much trust as she gets. She trusts her subordinates because they choose to serve under her, and her allies because they choose to serve with her. She likes to think everyone's intentions are as clear as hers, and she knows she would absolutely never betray anyone in her circle of trust or someone she's given her word to. It's just not in her nature to do anything contrary to her word. She has been 'betrayed' before, by the former Kenpachi, and she finished that conflict by killing him and taking his title. Not many people wanted to try it again after that- tearing someone's head off in the middle of battle was enough of a strong, deterring message.

📦:

Most likely to hunt her own meals. Most likely to disappear into the woods, never to be seen again. Most likely to become a cryptid mountain woman. Most likely to win a war by sheer will alone. Most likely to hand-wrestle a bear and win. Most likely to become the the subject of Chuck Norris-like jokes. (Kenpachi Nanouk doesn't sleep. She waits). Most likely to solve a crime just by scaring the criminal into confession. Most likely to climb Mt. Everest alone. Most likely to not be impressed by the challenge Mt. Everest offers.

#Nanouk stuff #ask prompts #infodump games #thanks again! #Nanouk is a simple woman but she's compelling as hell #the 'most likely' question is so funny

[butterflyyeo]

drunk in love

pairing - yeosang x fem reader

genre - fluff, angst (?)

tw - lots of alcohol consumption, swearing

wc - 10k

side ships - seongjoong, yungi

a/n -- was meant to be angst but turned into fluff... im trying my best to get better at writing angst aaaah. but please enjoy this for now <3 thanks for letting me tag you @iminchaosnow !!

------------------------------------------- you had known kang yeosang for nearly two years now. two, dreadfully slow and exhausting years.it was your final year of high school when he transferred to your school, he was a close family friend of wooyoung's. his parents had spoken highly of the school, insisting that yeosang transfers in order to excel for his last year of schooling. as far as you were concerned, he had decent grades, but he preferred to spend his time hanging around the skatepark after dark, when everyone else had left.

and in all the two years you'd known him, you had never once had a full conversation with him, despite being in your group of friends. his side of the 'conversation' usually consisted of monotonous 'yeahs' and 'mhms'. wooyoung constantly assured you it was because he's shy and that he'd eventually open up. but you weren't convinced. you tried so hard for him to like you, but your efforts were fruitless. it was infuriating, feeling like you were constantly doing something wrong whenever you were around him.

you currently found yourself in the backseat of yeosang's car, wedged between a drunken yunho and mingi while a chaotic wooyoung was singing along to his chosen playlist. (though, it sounded more like wailing.)

you and the eight boys had all decided to take a gap year, spend every last cent you earned on adventure and alcohol to make lifelong memories, before your careers became a blockade in your friendship. but the year was coming to an end soon, it was already mid november. on the bright side, that meant your favourite holidays were just weeks away.

yeosang was always the designated driver. that was something you had noticed about him over the last few years. to be honest, you weren't sure just how he coped with a screeching wooyoung, because you sure as hell weren't dealing very well with yunho and mingi who were playing a very intense game of rock paper scissors to decide who would be crashing on the couch in your apartment.

"i win!" mingi cheered, waving his hands excitedly. "you're on the couch, man."

yunho frowned, "damn."

you laughed, "it's okay, yunho. you can share the bed with me if you'd like."

"hey! that's not fair y/n! you said i could this time." wooyoung whined from the front seat.

"sorry, woo. you know i keep my promises, but you're going back to your apartment. remember?" you tried to reason.

wooyoung looked as though someone had switched a lightbulb on behind his eyes, "oh yeah! i forgot."

the four of you burst into laughter, mainly caused by the alcohol and partially because of wooyoung's realisation. and still, yeosang didn't crack a smile, hands just gripping the steering wheel tighter as his knuckles turned white.

soon, you arrived outside your apartment block, quickly stepping out the car after yunho. wooyoung wound his window down and you poked your head in, attempting to hug him goodbye.

"bye woo!" you said, giggling at your faltered farewell.

"good night y/n, thanks for the drinks!" he shouted, exclaiming a bit too loudly next to your ear.

"thanks for the lift as always, yeosang!" you yelled, pulling away from wooyoung's tight hug.

he nodded, "no problem." before putting the window up and driving away.

you pouted, turning around to face the two boys. "i just don't understand what i'm doing wrong." you buried your face into your hands, "why doesn't he like me?" you groaned.

"y/n." mingi began, "its nearly 1am, its way too late for this 'why does yeosang hate me?' crap." he shook your shoulders, literally trying to shake some sense into you.

"yeah, mingi's right. we've had this discussion a thousand times." yunho said grasping your wrist and pulling you up the stairs, stumbling along the way. (because lets be real, stairs are difficult enough as it is, let alone when drunk.) "now, let us into your apartment so we can eat your food and crash on your couch!" he joked, nudging mingi in a playful manner.

you reached into your pocket and fumbled around with they key for a moment before unlocking the door. the boys practically pushed you inside and made a beeline for the fridge.

"help yourselves! i'm going to shower." you called, dragging yourself to your bedroom.

once you'd finished showering you went back to the living room to check on yunho and mingi. not so much to your surprise, they had fallen asleep on your couch already, cuddled up into each other. it was cute, even picture worthy to show their sober selves. you reached for your phone which typically lived in your pocket, though you began to panic when it wasn't there. hurrying around the apartment, you searched every possible nook and cranny for your phone, but it was nowhere to be found. you collapsed onto your bed, snuggling into the soft sheets, too tired to worry about your phone anymore and content with the assumption that you'd left it in yeosang's car.

shortly, your heavy eyes fell shut and you began to sleep away the tequila.

————————

the next morning you awoke to mingi and yunho's deep, hungover voices, discussing their plans for the next week.

you reluctantly pulled yourself out of bed and dawdled down the hallway.

"ah! there's our favourite karaoke partner!" yunho greeted, jokingly.

you laughed, "shh, don't let wooyoung hear you say that."

"she's right, man. he'd be so offended." mingi said, stretching out his sore limbs. "how are you feeling today, y/n?" he asked.

"not the worst hangover i've had. what about you guys? you're welcome to stay here as long as you'd like, until you feel better." you replied, knowing them well enough to know that they'd need at least a few painkillers and a good meal before they went home.

yunho chuckled, "i feel like crap, but nothing a sandwich and glass of water can't solve."

"i second that." mingi said, raising a hand.

"okay, well in that case, i'll go to the store and get something for breakfast. sound good?" you reasoned, running a hand through your hair. you loved these boys, and making them breakfast was just a nice way of showing you cared. drunk or not, they knew how to make you smile and laugh, which they loved to see.

"sounds amazing!" yunho said, breaking into a sincere smile.

you quickly changed out of your pyjamas and slipped some shoes on.

"i might be a bit longer, i need to stop by yeosang's. i think i left my phone in his car." you explained, picking your keys up from the kitchen counter. "see you guys soon! feel free to take a shower if you want." you said, waving goodbye and heading out the door.

"okay, bye y/n!" the boys called from behind you.

the first stop was yeosang's apartment, he only lived about ten minutes away with wooyoung and san, in the same building as jongho. both yunho and mingi lived on the other side of town, which is why they so often crashed at your place after parties. seonghwa and hongjoong were fortunate enough to live in a house, just outside town, they had actually been the hosts of last night's party.

it didn't take long to get there. you pushed open the lobby door and made your way over to the elevator, disappointed to see that it was out of order for maintenance. instead, you took the stairs and began spiralling upwards. less than a minute later you looked up, only to bump into the man you came looking for.

"oh, yeosang! i'm so sorry, i didn't mean to." you quickly apologised, worried about creating another reason for him to dislike you.

"it's fine." he shrugged.

you both began to talk again at the same time, "ah, sorry, you go."

"i was just gonna say, you left your phone in my car. actually, i was about to bring it back." he pulled your phone from the pocket of his jacket, handing it to you. as he did, your fingers brushed against his. he spun around suddenly and began to walk away, "i'll see you around."

he had left before you even had a chance to thank him. slightly confused and frustrated, you turned back around and traipsed down the stairs.

you gathered what you needed for a hearty breakfast at the local convenience store before heading home and spending the rest of the day in the enjoyable company of yunho and mingi.

yeosang had entered back into his apartment and sat down on the couch.

"back already?" wooyoung asked, rummaging through the fridge.

"she was coming to get her phone and i ran into her on the staircase."

wooyoung sighed, "when are you gonna stop hating her?"

"i don't hate her." yeosang said, not looking up from his phone.

"then why do you act like you do?"

yeosang pretended to not hear that question and continued to scroll through his phone. see, he'd rather not dwell on things that he couldn't understand.

————————

to fill up your weekdays during your gap year, you had picked up a job at a hotel in town as a receptionist. to your dismay, your boss had asked you to work night shift all week, which is how you found yourself here on thursday night, sitting alert and waiting for the slight chance that someone might check in at this time of night. it was a pretty fancy hotel, and the job payed well enough, so really, you had nothing to complain about.

the nights seemed to drag on for an eternity. to keep yourself busy, you often wasted time counting the cars that drove past, or tried to count the number of crystals that hung from the chandelier. so far, only a few people had checked in during your shift, having come from overseas and recently arriving at the airport. honestly, whenever someone walked through the front door, lugging a suitcase behind them, you got excited as it gave you something to do.

the clock was creeping up to 4am and you let out a quiet yawn, feeling drowsy as your body clock hadn't yet adjusted to the change of sleeping patterns on such short notice. taking a sip of water, you shook your head, trying to stay awake. your head suddenly jolted up at the sound of the front door opening.

a man stumbled forward, and you'd seen enough zombie movies to become instantly paranoid. you quickly pushed the thought out of your head, feeling ridiculous for even considering it. but as the man got closer, you could smell the cheap, potent alcohol lingering on his body.

he leant against the desk, peering down at you. "i need a room for the night."  he grumbled. "my stupid wife kicked me out." he said under his breath.

you forced a friendly smile, despite feeling uneasy, "of course! i just need you to fill in this form with some simple details." you said, sliding across a clipboard and a pen.

he huffed, picking up the pen and scribbling onto the sheet of paper before pushing it back to you. "can i go now?"

"just a moment, sir." you replied, eyes skimming over the form as you copied the information into the computer in front of you.

the man was growing impatient, stepping from foot to foot with his arms crossed.

"uh, sir, you missed a part of the form. could you please provide your phone number here." you pointed to the empty space on the sheet.

"for fucks sake." he muttered, "i don't have my phone on me and i don't know my phone number." he said, annoyedly tapping on the desk.

"i'm really sorry, sir, but—"

"can't you just find me a fucking room?" he snapped, hands balled into fists and slamming against the desk, making you jump in fright.

before you had time to try and reason with him, he continued to shout.

"you're as stupid as my wife! i'll just find a different fucking hotel." he yelled, swiping the clipboard and pen off the desk. "useless bitch." he mumbled as he kicked over a chair on his way out.

you chewed your bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears. with shaky hands, you picked up your phone and dialled the first place that came to mind. after a few rings, the phone answered.

"woo?" you croaked, trying hard to not cry.

"he's asleep. this is yeosang." he replied, evidently having just woken up by the sound of his voice.

"oh." you began, instantly feeling guilty for waking him up, "i'm sorry i didn't mean to disturb you."

"did you need something?" he asked.

"i just, i was..." you let out a sob, wiping at a tear falling from your eye.

this didn't go unnoticed by yeosang, "are you crying? what are you doing awake right now anyway?"

"i'm at work." you managed to choke out.

"at 4am?"

"i'm on night shift."

"why are you crying then?" he asked, feeling something slightly tug at his heart, but choosing to ignore it.

you began to ramble, "a man came in and he was really drunk and complaining about his wife and then he yelled at me because i asked him to give his phone number and—"

"i'm on my way." yeosang cut you off.

"what?"

"i'll be there in ten." with that, he hung up the phone.

exactly ten minutes later, you were sat in the passenger seat of yeosang's car. he was dressed in sweats, clearly having come straight from bed. you'd left a note on the desk, explaining to your coworker why you wouldn't be there when she arrived to take over your shift. a silence filled the car, and you felt the need to talk, but chose not to, worried about giving yeosang another reason to hate you.

once you arrived outside your apartment building, you were surprised that yeosang got out the car too and trailed closely behind you up the stairs to your apartment. when you reached the door you spun around to face him.

"thank you for bringing me home." you said, voice quiet and still rather shaken up.

"it's no problem. good night, y/n." he replied, sensing that you were still upset. he suddenly felt this overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around you tightly and not let go until you stopped crying. he wanted to protect you from every drunk idiot on the planet. he wanted to make you feel safe.

but instead, he watched as you closed the door behind you and locked it from inside.

————————

you arrived at work the next morning, instantly feeling more comfortable with cleaners, employees and people coming and going. immediately, you headed for your boss's office.

"good morning, sir. i just wanted to come and apologise for leaving my shift early last night. i can assure you it won't happen again." you said, feeling nervous as to what your boss might say.

he shook his head, "i should be the one apologising, a man came in this morning and spoke very sternly about the safety problems here. i realise now how stupid it was of me to make you work night shift, alone, at such a young age. we've hired security guards and have also made sure that two people will be on desk at all times. i'm sorry that you had to deal with that."

you were at a loss for words, you didn't think that there would be such drastic changes just from the once incident. "thank you so much." you replied.

"for now, take the rest of the day off. you'll only be working day shifts for next week and can return to doing night shifts whenever you feel ready to do so." your boss said, motioning for the door.

the rest of the day you spent in deep sleep, catching up on some much overdue rest.

———————

weeks passed and you found that work was much more enjoyable. you still hadn't returned to working night shifts, but at least now you had someone to run the front desk with you and keep you company.

this weekend, you were going to visit hongjoong and seonghwa. hongjoong was sick and so you decided to go help out since seonghwa couldn't always be there to look after him.

you knocked on their front door and was surprised to be greeted by san.

"good afternoon! come in." he gave you a hug before ushering you inside.

"what are you doing here?" you said, following him down the hall.

in the living room, you saw all eight of the boys gathered around a couch-ridden hongjoong.

"jongho was already here when me, yeosang and woo arrived." san explained.

"yeah, and then mingi and yunho turned up." wooyoung continued.

"y/n! i have never been more glad to see you! you gotta save me from them." hongjoong laughed, arms open, signalling for a hug.

you went over and embraced him in a hug, "good thing i brought an excessive amount of cookies." you said, placing the box of cookies on the coffee table next to the couch. the table was covered in empty mugs and bowls, you could tell seonghwa had been busy and hadn't had the chance to clean up. you opened up the box and handed him a cookie before offering them around to the rest of the boys.

"you're the best cook ever." mingi said, taking a big bite.

"i made you spaghetti last night!" yunho countered, feeling offended that his roommate didn't think he was the better cook. mingi just laughed and took another bite.

"jongho get off the counter, please." seonghwa said, coming through the front door. "don't be so comfortable, you were throwing up in my toilet like a month ago." he joked.

yeosang glanced your way, his eyebrows furrowed like he was contemplating something.

"lets head off and give these two some space." yunho said, dragging mingi behind him.

wooyoung stood up, "yeah, lets get going."

yeosang pulled his keys from his pocket, "okay, bye guys." he said, heading down the hallway.

"can we get some food on the way home?" you heard san call as they left.

"bye hongjoong! i hope you're feeling better soon." jongho said, "bye seonghwa, i promise i won't throw up in your toilet any time soon." he joked, leaving through the front door.

"seonghwa, how are you? don't forget to take some time for yourself as well." you frowned.

"i'm tired, but i'll be okay. i just gotta clean up and—"

"why don't you go rest a while? i can keep hongjoong company for a few hours." you reasoned, wanting to help as much as possible. there was nothing you hated more than seeing you friends in distress and upset.

he looked between hongjoong and yourself, "i couldn't."

hongjoong let out an audible huff, "hwa! will you just let her help please, she clearly wants to."

you grinned, "exactly, now go read or sleep or watch some tv or something." you said, gently pushing him towards their shared bedroom.

you spent the afternoon tidying up and talking with hongjoong. you managed to do all the dishes and put them away before scouring their kitchen, deciding on what you could use for dinner. you found everything you needed for a decent meal and began cooking it up. hongjoong had dozed off mid conversation, surrounded in a pile of tissues, you chose to let him sleep so he would recover quicker.

about an hour later, you placed two steamy hot meals onto their dining table next to two full glasses of water. you quietly knocked on their bedroom door, finding seonghwa asleep amongst the covers.

you gently shook him awake, "hwa, i made dinner for you guys. you can wake joong up, i'll head off now." you said with a smile.

leaving the two of them to enjoy their dinner, you headed home and cooked yourself something to eat. it was nice having some time to yourself, but saturday nights were becoming more and more empty as winter grew closer. december was only days away and the year would soon come to an end. you reached for the phone, suddenly desperately missing your friends despite only seeing them hours ago.

"hey woo, are you free next weekend?" you asked.

he paused a moment, "i think so, why?"

"you wanna go out with the others? it's been a while since we have all caught up for drinks."

"count me in!" wooyoung cheered.

you called everyone else up and they all agreed, even hongjoong promised to come if he was feeling better.

————————

you found yourself surrounded by wooyoung, san, yunho and mingi as the music blared. it was a less popular club on the far side of town but it was a comfortable place for you all. you often came here for drinks and the staff members knew you, quite well, a little too well. san grabbed your hand and spun you around a few times with the music.

you laughed, leaning against him, "maybe spinning around isn't the best idea right after two shots of vodka."

"what?" san yelled into your ear, struggling to hear you over the music.

you laughed louder, pulling him closer to you, "i said, spinning is not a good idea after drinking vodka!"

"oh!" he joined you in laughing before trying to twirl you around once more.

hongjoong and seonghwa sat at the bar, holding hands and being intimate as always. yeosang was sat next to jongho at a booth, quietly talking with him, but from the corner of your eye, you saw jongho stand up and walk away. your eyes watched him worriedly and you couldn't help but run after him. you followed him as best you could, stumbling every now and then. he'd gone to the bathroom so you patiently waited outside until he came back, looking slightly pale.

you practically leapt at him, doing a quick scan to make sure he was okay, "jongho? are you alright?"

he smiled at your overwhelming concern, "yeah, i just drank too much as usual. i'll be alright, you can go back to dancing."

"let me just get you some water first. i'll be right back okay?" you patted his shoulder. "don't go anywhere i'll be back in a second."

you made your way back to where jongho had been sitting with yeosang. as you approached, yeosang eyed you up and down, taking in your drunken state, though, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you this way. you nearly tripped as you reached the table, struggling to walk in heels.

"i need a glass of water, do you have a glass of water? jongho needs a glass of water." you mumbled to yourself, reaching for the jug in the center of the table.

"are you okay?" yeosang asked, quickly pushing your hand away from the jug.

"i'm okay, but jongho needs water. can i take this cup? he's waiting for me, i told him not to go anywhere, i need to get back to jongho—" you tried to pick up a glass but yeosang pressed your hand back down once more.

"i'll take it to him, you stay here." he said, filling the cup full with water and heading towards the bathrooms.

your brain suddenly felt fuzzy and your eyes became blurry, it was like the alcohol hit your system all at once. your head spun round and round and you leaned forward, resting your hands on your head. you'd never felt this sick from drinking, maybe you'd had too much too quickly, maybe it was the spinning. there was no way to tell, all you knew was that you felt like you were about to fall from the top of a very high roller coaster.

your eyes felt increasingly heavy, you allowed them to slip shut, head falling to the table with a not so gentle thud.

"y/n?" someone shook you, "y/n wake up!" it was wooyoung.

"shit, is she okay? should we call an ambulance?" jongho said, reaching for his phone.

"is she breathing? has anyone checked?" seonghwa gently lifted your shoulders and sat you upright, relieved to see the rise and fall of your chest. "we should call a taxi and get her home."

"are you crazy? she's unconscious, she won't be able to get up the stairs to her apartment! what if the driver is dodgy? she's already had to deal with shitty men while working night shift, imagine if something happened while she's drunk!" yeosang blurted out. the boys were shocked over his sudden concern for you. yeosang had never once shown any interest or care for you in the presence of them.

"well, what should we do then?" mingi asked, worriedly running a hand through his hair.

"i'll take her, you've all been drinking." yeosang concluded. "she'll be fine, don't worry. enjoy the rest of your night, okay? i've dealt with woo passing out before remember?"

"that's true." san said, throwing a light hearted glare in wooyoung's direction, who showed a rather sheepish expression.

the boys went back to their drinks, taking it a little slower now and yeosang carried you to his car. it wasn't easy, but he managed to sit you upright in the back seat of his car with his rear view mirror aimed directly at you so he could make sure you were okay.

he was able to lift you up the stairs and get your house key from the pocket of your jacket, which would've looked questionable to anyone else, but he had the best intentions. he sat you down in a dining chair, watching as your head lolled forward and your body slumped. he quickly filled a glass of water and came back to you.

"y/n." he whispered, resting a hand on your shoulder. "y/n." he said again, louder this time.

the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but you weren't waking up and that was becoming concerning. he shook your shoulder, as gently as he possible could in a moment like this, and to his relief, your eyes hesitantly opened.

your head felt like a bowling ball and you groaned quietly. "yeosang?"

"here." he said holding the cup to your lips, allowing you to take a small sip.

"how did we get here?" you mumbled, head rolling to the side.

he caught your head and carefully pushed you back upright, "i drove you, this is your apartment."

"oh." you said, eyes drooping shut again. "oh." you repeated.

"y/n, i really need you to stay awake right now." he said, bringing the cup to your mouth again. "lets talk."

"we never talk!" you exclaimed. "this is the longest conversation we've ever had!"

"i know." he said, pulling up a chair to sit directly in front of you. yeosang felt that slight tug at his heart again tonight, the way you sounded so excited just to talk with him.

"no, no, no." you whined, "this is so bad!"

"what is it?"

you pouted before nervously biting your lip, "i'm really sorry."

"for what?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair.

"for ruining your night and making you stay here with me! now you just have another reason to hate me." you sighed, letting your head fall into your hands.

"i could never hate you." he said, voice barely above a whisper.

but you had fallen back asleep, so yeosang sat you upright once more and monitored you closely all night. with every minute that passed, he wished more and more that it was easier for him to show his emotions, to you especially. he wondered if maybe he wasn't so closed off that things would be different between the two of you. but it was hard for him, to let people in, he was afraid. afraid of people judging the real him, afraid of what might happen if he lets himself become vulnerable, afraid of facing his feelings about you.

you awoke hours later with a raging headache and extreme nausea. you headed straight for the bathroom and hunched over the toilet, feeling the sickest you'd ever felt. yeosang waited patiently outside the bathroom door with a glass of water and painkillers.

when you came out, he held his hand out, "take this."

you looked down at his hand and then up at him, slightly confused, "what are you doing here?"

"you passed out last night, and i drove you home because everyone else had been drinking." he said, passing the glass of water.

"oh my god." you ran a hand through your hair, "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to be any trouble! you must of been here all night, i promise it won't happen again, that was so stupid of me—"

"it's fine, don't worry about it." he said, shrugging, "i'll get going now, but make sure you take it easy and drink enough water." his eyes carefully scanned your body one last time, making sure you were really okay. he headed for the door and you followed.

"i'm really sorry." you frowned, feeling as though no amount of apologies would make it up to him.

he let out a slight chuckle, "it's okay, seriously y/n." he said before leaving. you heard the all too familiar jingle of his keys as the door closed behind him.

he'd stayed with you all night, eyes watching over you closely. ready at your side whenever you stirred in your sleep. he'd been there in the morning prepared with water and painkillers. this was never how it was, usually this was your job, taking care of the boys. it was your way of showing you cared, helping out wherever possible.

this wasn't like yeosang. at all.

————————

as soon as yeosang got home he was greeted by a very concerned san and wooyoung.

"is she okay?"

"are you tired?"

"did she wake up?"

he was bombarded by questions.

"she's okay, she fell asleep after a while and i made her take some painkillers when she woke up." yeosang said, collapsing onto the couch.

"so you really don't hate her then." wooyoung thought aloud.

"he can't, he spent the whole night looking after her!" san said, hitting wooyoung like it was obvious.

"owww," wooyoung rubbed his arm, "even she thinks you don't like her!"

"i know, she said last night. but she probably won't remember saying that." yeosang said, feeling increasingly drowsy from his lack of sleep.

"maybe you guys should like, talk things out?" san suggested, taking a seat next to him.

"maybe." yeosang said, drifting off into sleep.

you had spent the day curled up in bed, wondering how you could make it up to yeosang, and there was nothing more you wanted than to get to know him better, but what would he want? you called up san on that thought.

"hey sannie," you said, "i need your help, actually, is woo there as well?"

"oh my god she's alive!" you heard wooyoung call from beside san.

"what do you need help with?" san asked.

you paused a moment, "is yeosang there?"

"well yes, but he's asleep."

you groaned, "i feel so bad that he stayed up all night looking after me. i really wanna make it up to him but i don't know how. plus, it's not like he's that fond of me. maybe i should just thank him by staying out of his space."

"i don't think he'd like that." wooyoung interjected. "i still think he just needs time before opening up to you."

"i think its just me." you sighed, worriedly chewing on your bottom lip.

"hey! don't be like that! there's no reason to not like you." san scolded you for down talking yourself as he always does.

"agreed." wooyoung said, chiming in.

"i'm sure i'll work something out. thanks guys! enjoy the rest of your day!" you said.

"good luck!"

"bye y/n!"

————————

you had been staring at your phone for at least an hour, typing and retyping the message to yeosang. wooyoung gave you his number so that you could contact him when you'd finally worked out how to make it up to him. in the end, you decided that you would let him decide.

you drew in a sharp breath and squeezed your eyes tightly shut as you pressed send.

you: hey yeosang, i still feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you !!

yeosang: did wooyoung give you my number? T~T

you: yes he did.. i hope thats okay !

yeosang: of course yeosang: how about you make it up to me over a cup of coffee? >.<

you: that sounds great !! you: when are you free ?

yeosang: does tomorrow morning work for you ? i can pick you up ^_^

you: of course ! i'll see you tomorrow :)

yeosang sat in his room, facepalming. why was it so easy to be more open over text?

you on the other hand, felt your heart swell in a bizarre way. maybe it was the way you hadn't expected him to use such cute little emoticons. maybe it was the way that you'd be able to have a full conversation with him. whatever it was, excitement had taken over you.

————————

a knock pounded at your door and you rushed to open it.

"ready to go?" he asked, leaning against the door frame coolly.

"yes, lets go!" you said, sounding a little too excited.

the two of you made your way down the stairs and into yeosang's car. you found yourself smiling as you looked out the window.

your excitement hadn't gone unnoticed, "you seem awfully excited."

"i really wanted to make it up to you," you beamed. "it must've been boring to watch over me all night."

"i didn't mind so much." he said, shrugging.

you frowned, "you shouldn't of done it."

"and leave you passed out in the club?" he quirked an eyebrow up at you.

"well..."

"exactly." he said, parking the car outside a small cafe nearby his apartment. "come on, lets go inside."

you followed him in and took a seat across from him at a table close to the window. you both ordered coffees and resumed conversation.

"so, where were we?" you smiled, taking a sip of coffee.

"talking about how you wanted me to leave you passed out in the club." he said. you were almost convinced you saw a teasing smile pulling at his lips.

"right. i'm so sorry about that."

this time he actually chuckled, and you were taken aback. it was like the wall yeosang had surrounding himself was crumbling before your eyes.

"you need to apologise less." he laughed, bringing his coffee cup to his mouth for a sip. "half of the time we talk its just you saying sorry to me."

"i'm so—"

"hey!" the two of you broke into laughter.

his laugh was loud but warm and you couldn't help but notice the way his nose scrunched up cutely, the way his eyes looked full of stars and the way he brushed his hair out of his eyes after, revealing his beautiful birthmark. from that point on, you wanted to be the one to make him laugh every day.

he felt that familiar tug at his heart, the one he'd been feeling every moment he spent alone with you. the one he felt when he first met you. the one he couldn't make any sense of. it was as though his heart was a violin and you were the one playing it. (which would explain the tugging feeling.) but you were playing the sweetest song and he never wanted it to end.

the two of you laughed the morning away, gradually making up for what you'd missed over two years in a matter of two hours.

you'd discovered that even after getting him to open up more, he wasn't one for words. you found yourself talking his ear off while he listened intently, occasionally sharing his opinions and stories. in all his honesty, he didn't mind listening to you talk. he could've sat there all day, drinking countless cups of coffee, watching the way you bit your bottom lip whenever you paused to think or the way your eyes filled with sparkles when you talked about something that made you happy.

you insisted on paying for the infinite cups of coffee, as it was your way of making it up to him. he reluctantly agreed, but promised that he would pay if there ever was a next time, which he secretly hoped there would be. he'd finally had the chance to let his walls down. (it was actually more like you'd climbed the walls and torn them down with your bare hands.) but he was thankful for it.

he drove you back to your apartment, even after you persisted on walking home, seeing as it wasn't that far. he refused, insisting that he drive you. he even followed you up the stairs to the door of your apartment.

you turned around to face him, "you know, you're not so bad when you actually wanna talk to me."

"you know, you're not so bad when you're not drunk." he countered, his lips breaking into a playful grin.

you glared jokingly, "hey! don't make me apologise again."

"okay, okay. i won't." he said, raising his hands in defence.

you smiled, resting against the door, "alright, well, i've really enjoyed hanging out with you today. maybe we should catch up more often."

"maybe we should." he said, bearing a coy smile, "bye, y/n. i'll see you around."

————————

it was only about a week later he showed up at your work, at the end of your shift. you were pleasantly surprised to see him, and at first thought he was just someone coming to book a room.

"hello, are you looking for a r— yeosang?"

"when do you get off work?" he asked, glancing over to the clock.

"five minutes."

"i'll be waiting in the car, okay?" he said, turning on his heel and heading for the door.

on his way out, you saw as he ran into your boss, the two of them beginning conversation.

"it's good to see you've made those security changes." yeosang said as he nodded, extending his arm for a friendly handshake. "i'm very thankful."

your boss shook his hand, "and i'm thankful that you suggested them."

just over five minutes later you got into the passenger seat of yeosang's car.

"it was you who told my boss about the safety problems." you said, in near disbelief.

"hello, to you too." he joked sarcastically. "well, i would hate to think that the situation could happen again, so i just suggested some possible improvements. thats all." he shrugged like it was nothing.

"suddenly, i feel the need to make it up to you again." you smiled shyly.

"you can do that by accompanying me to the skate park." he said, motioning to his skateboard on the back seat.

"ah, so thats why you came."

"well yeah, i wanted to bring you to the skate park."

your heart swelled once again, feeling joyed that he wanted to share one of his favourite places with you. (despite him never telling you directly, you knew he loved the skate park as he spent majority of his high school time there when he wasn't studying.)

when you arrived, the sun was beginning to slip behind the horizon, causing the sky to glow a rosy pink. there were still a few kids, probably high schoolers, hanging around the park. you took a seat at a bench and waited for yeosang to come over, who was getting his skateboard out the car. you felt oddly out of place since you were still in your neat work uniform and didn't know the first thing about skateboarding.

yeosang rolled over with a grin plastered onto his face, you'd never seen him so happy, and it made you happy to see him this way. it was strange how all it took was a few cups of coffee for him to become a completely different person around you.

he didn't need to ask you to watch as your eyes were already glued to him as he dropped into the bowl, showing countless tricks and flips.

the truth was in fact that yeosang was grateful for you 'making it up to him'. he'd never been able to comprehend his feelings for you, if they were even feelings at all. he hated the confusion and decided it was easier to ignore it, and to an extent, ignore you, to make it go away. it had been working for the most part, until every time the two of you were alone together, he couldn't ignore the slight tug at his heart, that was becoming more of a pull over the last few weeks.

"you're amazing!" you cheered as he sat down next to you, out of breath.

"thanks." he smiled shyly, running a hand through his hair and out of his face. he leaned back, looking up at the sky. "do you sometimes wish you could see the stars from within the city? hongjoong and seonghwa are so lucky they can see them from their house."

you pondered a moment, thinking about the last time you actually saw stars in the sky. "i see stars in your eyes sometimes." you said, absent minded.

he felt warmth burning in his cheeks, "you do?"

"do what?" you turned to him, "did i say that out loud?" you gasped, covering your face in embarrassment. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to say that it was just a thought and—"

"what did i say about apologising?" he laughed. "it's getting cold, right? you ready to head home?" he asked.

you smiled, "if you are."

he drove you home and said goodbye, feeling happy about spending time alone with you once again. he couldn't stop thinking about what you said and you couldn't stop feeling like a fool for saying it.

————————

the weather got colder and colder and soon it began to snow as the days of december passed. you had spent the day helping jongho move some new furniture into his apartment. it was a difficult job, but easier with the two of you, even san and wooyoung came to help. you couldn't resist wondering where yeosang was and why he didn't come, seeing as they lived in the same building. maybe he was busy, you thought.

"hey, where's yeosang?" you asked, lifting a box and placing it on the kitchen counter.

"at home, i think he's been feeling sick or something, he hardly comes out of his room lately." wooyoung shrugged, assuming it was all good.

"if he's sick i'll bring him over some food and painkillers, maybe keep him some company." you explained, not wanting yeosang to be unwell.

"i think he'd rather be left alone, to be honest." san said, giving wooyoung a side glance that you couldn't miss.

you pulled out your phone and sent yeosang a quick message.

you: are you feeling okay? san and woo said you were sick :((

he didn't respond right away and you just figured he was asleep. but as you finished helping out at jongho's house a few hours later, he still hadn't responded. when you were sitting down to eat dinner at home, he still hadn't respond. just before you were going to turn the lights out and go to bed, he still hadn't responded.

something was up. this wasn't like yeosang, not anymore. not since the two of you had been spending so much time together. maybe it was like the boys said, and he was truly very sick, but in that case, why wouldn't they let you help?

————————

days passed and you went to work as usual, repeating the same few lines, asking people if they want a room, asking them to fill in a form, then directing them to the right room. days passed and you still hadn't heard back from yeosang, you wondered if he was still sick. days passed and you began to think maybe you should go over there to see if he's okay.

but if there was one thing you'd learnt about yeosang recently, it was that he was the quieter type, and probably wouldn't appreciate you going over there to keep him company and would rather be alone. so that evening when you got off work, you didn't go visit him like you so desperately wanted to, instead, you went straight home.

you cooked and ate dinner for yourself, before picking up your phone, only to see still no messages from yeosang.

you: hey woo you: is yeosang feeling better ?

wooyoung: yeah he is

you: well then can i come visit tomorrow ?

wooyoung: i think he's busy wooyoung: sorry

you: its okay woo you: its not your fault !!

you switched your phone off and headed for the shower, trying to wash away the stress and worry for yeosang that had built up over the last few weeks. you had really grown to like him and there was still so much about him you wanted to learn, like when he learned to skateboard or how he got the small scar on the back of his hand, that you'd noticed when ever he brushes his hair out of his eyes.

two years he'd spent, not interested in holding conversation with you and two years you'd spent, wondering what you'd did so wrong. but lately, you felt like you were doing something right around him, getting him to smile and laugh, share his own stories.

you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he still didn't like you, and had just been trying for wooyoung's sake.

or maybe he was genuinely starting to like you, but you went and fucked it up by weirding him out and telling him about his starry eyes.

or maybe he'd just had enough of you already. decided that a few weeks was enough time spent trying to change things between the two of you.

as you finished showering and changed into comfortable clothes, you glanced at the clock which read 10:56pm. you switched on the television to watch some youtube before going to bed. as you felt yourself dozing off, a faint knock sounded at your door, so quiet you almost missed it.

when you opened the door, you were shocked to see yeosang standing there, leaning against the door frame for support. he looked up at you, his normally starry eyes were dulled with tears.

you rushed forward to him, smelling the alcohol as you got closer, "yeosang are you okay? what are you doing here? i thought you were sick. are you drunk? you never drink, come inside." you gently pulled him inside, closing the door behind you. when you turned to face him, he was staring at you, tears about to spill over the brim of his eyes.

"i hate you." he breathed out, voice barely louder than a whisper. he didn't seem angry though, he looked fragile, like a glass vase balancing on the edge of a table.

you felt the urge to cry, finally hearing those three words that confirmed your biggest concern, yeosang disliking you. "yeosang, i'm so sorry. i never meant to—"

"i hate you." he said, louder this time before running a hand through his hair hastily. he let out a frustrated groan, dragging his hands down his face. "i hate the tugging feeling in my heart whenever we're alone. i hate the way you put yourself before others. i hate the way you ramble on when you're nervous. i hate the way your eyes sparkle when you laugh. i hate the way i don't drink around you because i feel the need to protect you and make sure you're safe. i hate the way i tried to ignore you for two years because i was scared and confused about my own feelings. i hate how it only took one cup of coffee with you for my walls to come crashing down!" he paced from side to side, waving his hands around crazily.

yeosang looked scared and lost, like he'd never felt this way about anyone before, and that was the truth. he didn't know how to comprehend these feelings and it terrified him.

you watched as he spiralled, seeming as though it would never stop. you weren't sure what to do, so you just listened to that swelling feeling in your heart once again, the one that had led you to develop feelings for yeosang, and you pulled him close into your arms. he clung onto you tightly, scared to let go, like if he did then he'd lose you forever. you ran your fingers through his hair briefly, trying your best to comfort him.

"i'm sorry." you repeatedly whispered to him. you'd never meant to upset him or confuse him.

yeosang let out a quiet sob into your chest, "i hate the way i've fallen in love with you." he croaked out.

he didn't hate you. never did. never will. your heart swelled completely in your chest, feeling as though it would burst through. but it couldn't be true. he's totally drunk out of his mind.

"you're not in your right mind, yeosang, you need to get home. you're drunk and talking nonsense." you embraced him tightly one more time, and you could've sworn you felt the beat of his heart through the hug. "come on," you urged, steering him towards the door, "wooyoung and san are probably worried and waiting up for you."

with much effort, you led him down the stairs of your apartment block and walked him home. the street lamps led you in the freezing city night air. you held his wrist lightly, guiding him up the stairs to his own apartment. he didn't speak a single word the whole time, instead, sniffling and wiping at his eyes. it hurt you so much to see him this broken, but you knew he wasn't saying the truth under control of the alcohol in his veins.

you knocked at his apartment door, hoping that one of the boys were still awake. luckily, they both were and quickly they flung the door open.

"y/n? yeosang?" san questioned, his eyes wide open with disbelief.

"we've been so worried about you!" wooyoung said, pulling yeosang away from you. "hang on, are you drunk?"

san had noticed his tired, tear stained eyes, "you look like you've been crying! are you okay?"

you let out a quiet sigh, knowing you didn't need to be here anymore. you gave a small wave goodbye and headed home, utterly exhausted.

and though you were so drained, you couldn't seem to fall asleep. those words yeosang said to you kept running through your mind busily.

did he mean any of it?

————————

yeosang felt bad. he felt terrible. like he wanted to vanish into thin air and float away with the breeze. though he couldn't, no, he desperately wanted to apologise to you. but he didn't know how, he wasn't good with words or expressing his feelings, and you wished he knew that was something you loved about him.

wooyoung and san tried to ask him what happened the night he drunkenly confessed to you, but he couldn't have them know that he'd been harbouring feelings for you for all this time, they'd never let him live it down. he could imagine the continuous teasing they'd give him, nudging him whenever you were together or giving him side glances after talking to you.

yeosang gave it lots of thought. he mulled it over in his head repeatedly. it was only after hours spent hidden away in his room that he decided to go back to where it all started, a text. a text that said how much he wanted to make it up to you for having to deal with him drunk, just like the one you'd sent initially.

yeosang: hey y/n, i feel really bad about the other day, i wanna know how i can make it up to you! T^T

your heart leapt a mile seeing his name appear on your phone. you grinned upon reading his message, realising it was scarily similar to the message you had first sent him.

you: hmmm you: that sounds familiar

yeosang: >.< yeosang: seriously though, how does dinner at my place tomorrow night sound? i'll cook

you: you can cook?

yeosang: there's a lot you don't know about me x_x

you: okay, i'll be there !!

————————

yeosang wasn't lying when he said he can cook. as you traipsed up the stairs of his apartment block you could smell something delicious laced in the air.

the usual swelling in your heart had instead fell to the pit of your stomach, you were feeling slightly nervous as to what would happen when you entered yeosang's apartment. you inhaled deeply before knocking at the door of his apartment.

"hey y/n, come in." yeosang greeted, holding an arm out, signalling for you to come inside.

"you must've been working hard cooking! it smells delicious." you said, feeling a sense of comfort just from the smell of food.

"yeah, lucky i sent wooyoung and san over to jongho's place, otherwise i doubt there would be any pasta to serve." he joked. "you can take a seat, i've just gotta serve up."

you sat down in front of a neatly laid table, it had somewhat surprised you how much effort yeosang had put into this dinner tonight. he placed a steamy hot plate of pasta in front of you and one where he would sit.

"so." he began.

"so." you copied, teasingly.

"i guess, i really just wanted to say i'm sorry for how i behaved the other night when i was drunk. you shouldn't of had to deal with that." he frowned, poking at his dinner.

you furrowed your brows, "it's seriously fine yeosang." you took a bite of pasta, "i was just surprised to see you drunk, since you never drink."

he chuckled, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth, "actually, i do. i just never drink when you're there."

"really? why?" you questioned, eating another mouthful of pasta.

"because..." he paused. "no, it sounds dumb out loud."

"it's okay, you don't have to explain yourself." you smiled warmly, "but that does remind me to ask... do you remember anything you said to me while you were drunk?" you leant forward, genuinely curious.

he sighed, "i remember.. enough."

"you don't really hate me, right?" you asked, playing with the food on your plate.

"of course not! that's why i invited you here tonight. to show you that i don't, and to make it up to you." he had to refrain from reaching across to hold your hand, just to show how much he cared that little bit more.

you nodded, "well, thats good. i was kinda worried that we'd gone back to square one."

comfort settled within you. it was relieving to know you weren't hated by the one person whose love you wanted most. a tiny thought crept into your mind, maybe, just maybe, now would be the right time to tell him about your blossoming feelings for him. or would that confuse him more? now you were the one feeling conflicted.

"are you finished eating?" he asked, reaching for your empty plate.

"yes, thank you! it was delicious. you're a good cook, y'know."

"ah, thanks y/n." he turned away to hide the blush appearing on his cheeks.

"would you like me to do the dishes? since you cooked." you offered, standing up. but he quickly opposed.

"don't be ridiculous." he shooed you back to your seat. "can i get you a coffee? water? wine?"

"a coffee sounds good, i think you and i have had too many drunken situations lately." you laughed.

yeosang pulled out two mugs and put the kettle on. he felt your eyes carefully watching him. once again, he hated the feeling that was pulling at his heart. the way you could say nothing, yet he felt everything.

"can i tell you something?" you asked, voice now quieter and more hesitant.

"sure, what is it?" he said, placing a warm cup of coffee in front of you.

you took a sip, humming in delight. it was exactly the way you liked it. when the two of you went out for coffee, he had unintentionally remembered just the way you like it.

"well," you began cautiously, in case you brought this situation into flames again. "i just... i always wondered why you didn't like me. if i was doing something wrong, if i said something once that really upset you. and then after we started spending time together, i finally felt like i was doing the right thing." you groaned, frustrated with yourself for not getting to the point quicker. "what i'm trying to say is that i have feelings for you. it's okay if you don't feel the same way. i wouldn't expect you to, i just thought you should know—"

yeosang basically choked on his coffee, eyes widening in shock. "it's okay, y/n! in case you hadn't noticed, i'm crazy about you."

you had continued to ramble nervously before hearing what he said.

"wait. you are?"

"basically ever since you said that thing about stars in my eyes, yes."

you cringed, remembering how you had said that so absent minded. "yeah, sorry about that."

"it's okay, it was cute. and what did i say about apologising?"

you shook your head and smiled, "i know."

————————

ever since the two of you confessed to each other, you had been almost inseparable, except of course when you had work. but he dropped you home most nights, even though you insisted it was okay and that you could walk. he came over every weekend just to spend time with you, even if the two of you just sat and talked, enjoying each other's company. you'd been dating for a few weeks now, but kept it undercover, not wanting to suffer the incessant questioning that would come if you told your friends.

it didn't go unnoticed either, wooyoung and san were constantly nagging yeosang about why the two of you spent so much time together, and each time he just shrugged it off.

christmas was just around the corner, so you were spending the evening at seonghwa's and hongjoong's house, who of course, were throwing an unnecessarily large house party to celebrate.

you were sat between a very drunk yunho and mingi, who were trying to talk to an also very drunk jongho. you eyed your boyfriend from across the room, as if asking for a way out and he just laughed at the situation you were stuck in.

after at least ten minutes more of having your ear talked off, yeosang came to pull you away to the dance floor.

"care to dance?" he asked, extending his hand to you.

you immediately jumped up, latching onto his hand, "i would love to!"

he chuckled, pulling you close to his side and leading you to the makeshift dance floor that seonghwa and hongjoong created.

the two of you laughed at the boys' reaction. they were completely shocked to see the two of you so close together and yeosang being friendly.

he twirled you around a few times with the music, before settling his arms around your waist. he brought you near to him as you placed your arms behind his neck. you swayed back and forth, engulfed in your own little bubble of comfort in each other's arms, completely out of time with the loud thumping music that blared around you.

you felt content, and yeosang no longer felt confused. he found his home in your arms and his happiness.

you reached up to place your lips on his, capturing the moment surrounding you. yeosang melted into the kiss, discovering that your lips were soft and sweet against his, just as he had imagined, which caused his knees to feel weak and his heart to skip more than just one beat. he never wanted to let you go, he wanted to compensate for every second that he didn't spend with you since the two of you met.

he leaned forward and whispered softly, just so you could hear above all the music and singing, "lets stay like this forever."

#ateez #ateez yeosang #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez angst #yeosang fluff #yeosang angst #kang yeosang #yeosang scenarios #yeosang imagines #ateez seonghwa #ateez hongjoong #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez wooyoung #ateez x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez san #ateez yunho #ateez seongjoong #ateez yungi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You notice a sudden change in Lord Barnes.

Note: This is just me being self-indulgent. I start a new job on Monday and yesterday, someone close to me passed. I’m trying to distract myself but I’m too stressed to work on an standing series. This will have at least one other part.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You scattered fresh herbs over the rushes carefully as you backed down the hall. The woven mats would absorb the scent and keep the floors tidy until the next sweep. When you reached the corner, you tied up the sachet and gathered up your bucket and broom. The corridors were already smelling fresher though the task had kept you well past the evening meal. 

Your usual chores you assigned to Marjorie. As the years piled on her crooked back, she wasn’t as suited to the more physical tasks. Sweeping would have been too hard on her and you didn’t mind the solitary of the work.

You turned past the kitchens and stopped. Your footsteps seemed to echo behind you. You looked back but saw nothing in the shadows. It was late and most of the castle was asleep already, the torches were snuffed but for a few and you could find you way through the dark easily in the familiar castle.

You went to the rear door of the castle on the lower green, just beside the stables, and dumped the dirt. You heard the horses snoring and nicking as the moon shone down on the wood roofs. You basked for a moment in the silver light and the brisk night air. The harvest season was coming to an end and it would soon be cold.

You dropped the bar as you went back inside and returned your broom and bucket to the cellar. Again you heard a step that did not quite align with your own as you came into the corridor. You spun slowly and glanced around. Some of the younger servants were known to sneak around after hours and there was the odd mouse that skittered over the stone. You saw nothing and went on, more than ready to retire to your straw mattress beside Elsa.

“You sent the old lady,” the voice had your heart in your throat and you stopped short to bow to your liege.

“My lord, I was occupied elsewhere. Harold approved the reassignment,” you said shakily. It was unlike him to traverse the lower floors.

“She spilled wine on my tunic,” Lord Barnes said, “and she can barely see her own crooked nose.”

“My lord, she is old, we did not want her to tax herself--”

“She is a servant. Like you. You have your work and she has hers,” he stepped forward out of the dark shadows though there was no lantern or torch to limn his features, “I bid you to bring my meals and tidy my chambers, no one else. There are far too many covetous servants.”

You were put off by his confrontation. You replaced his former chambermaid several years back but Lord Barnes hardly seemed to warm to the change. He never offered more than an obligatory courtesy and when he was present during your tasks, he rarely spoke at all. Your service had been one of complacency on both sides, so you wondered why he would come to the lower floors to search you out after dark.

“I will be there tomorrow, my lord,” you said, “I apologise for my negligence.”

“And every day thus,” he demanded as he got closer.

“Yes, my lord,” you lowered your chin, “as you wish.”

He stopped only an inch from you and you felt him staring down at you. You didn’t dare look back, that would be an affront to any noble. He let out a long breath and slowly backed away.

“Go, you must be worn out from your hard work,” he retreated, “and there is as much to do on the morrow.”

“My lord,” you bent again and listened to his footsteps fade.

When you dared to look up, he was gone. The man was always particular, even those of his own standing were not guaranteed an audience, even as they visited his estate. He stayed far from court since his injury and on those occasions he did travel to the capital, it was not for more than a fortnight. 

You did not take the encounter lightly. He had dismissed labour for less and you did not relish a job outside the castle, there wasn’t much to be had in the village. As dull as the work was, it provided you a place to sleep and comforts not known to many others of your breeding.

🏰

When you went to the lord’s chambers the next morning, he was away. His horse had been saddled for an early ride and you did not expect him until his evening meal. After your tasks, you kept busy until you were due with his supper. When you arrived with the tray, he was not there. You waited but he did not appear. You left the tray covered to keep the food warm and went to attend the last of your nightly duties.

You retired without seeing the lord once. The next day passed in kind, and the next, and the next. You wondered for a moment if it was due to his ire with you but quickly shrugged away the notion. Lord Barnes did not think so much of you and his absence was not so unusual. He was a reticent man even if he was willful.

The first you saw him again was with his supper. He sat at his large carved desk as you entered with the tray and you crossed to the round painted table. He raised a hand and tutted as he didn’t look up from the parchment before him.

“Bring it here,” he ordered.

You went to him and set down the tray on the left flank of his desk. You filled his goblet and he blindly reached over to take it. He gulped and kept his head down as he picked the chicken to pieces and chewed over the inky words.

You retraced your steps to the door, usually he ate alone, as he did most things. You only returned to clear his scraps.

“Do you not see the mess?” he asked without looking up. You turned and followed his sharp point to the shelves along the wall. “It is difficult to focus in the chaos.”

“My lord,” you nodded and went to the oaken shelves. You rearranged the crooked spines and tidied the stack of loose leaves. You took the cloth from your apron and wiped down the line of inkwells. You could hear him chewing quietly behind you as he shifted in his chair.

“And you will ready my bed for the night,” he demanded as you finished up, “pull back the covers, it’s been a tiresome day.”

He lifted the parchment and leaned back as he wiped his fingers on his breeches. You acquiesced with a “yes, my lord,” and went to his bedchamber. 

You folded down the heavy blankets and linen and fluffed the pillows. You took the brick from the foot of the bed and set it in the hearth. The fall slipped in through the windows and the chill of the castle was no longer so welcomed.

“I won’t need that,” Barnes said as he entered. He was so quiet, you jumped and stood straight. You spun and bowed your head.

“Will that be all, my lord?” you asked as he unbuttoned his overcoat with one hand.

“My footman has been stricken with an ague after we were caught in the rain,” he said evenly, “you can aid with my wardrobe.”

“My lord?”

“Here,” he pointed in front of him and pulled his jacket free of his left arm, “you will take these,” he handed you the garment as you neared, “to the laundries.”

You kept your eyes on the plain grey fabric as he shoved his boots aside and added his socks to your armful, then lifted his tunic as you peered at the floor. He pulled of the leather glove that hid his iron hand, the metal forged to the mirror of his real extremity. You resisted the yen to look higher up the artificial appendage.

You were unprepared to act as his footman and as he stripped away his layers it made you squirm. He rolled down his breeches and slung them over the rest of his clothes.

He stood in only in his undershorts and bent your head lower, “my lord.” You backed away and he caught your elbow. He stopped you and you hugged the pile of clothes with your other arm.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he asked.

The question struck you. You were unsure how to answer. You were used to the silent, brooding lord, not this pensive, prodding master.

“My lord?” you frowned.

“You didn’t?” he urged, “do you not enjoy your duties?”

“I am only… uncertain of what you mean, my lord. I apologise for my displeasing response but I do not know how to answer.”

You looked at his hand still on your elbow. He squeezed and slowly his palm glided up your sleeve. You shivered as he pushed his hand against your neck and his thumb tickled under your chin.

“I must confess I missed you,” he said, “I did stay away because I was upset at your absence and thought to punish you in kind but it seems, it hasn’t had the same effect.”

“What do-- my lord?” you kept your eyes down as his hand moved higher and he brushed along your lower lip.

“I know I shouldn’t let these… feelings persist but there are many lords who indulge without emotion. I assure you, I do not touch you in a meaningless manner.”

“My lord,” you took a step back and he stopped you again. This time his hand gripped your jaw. He pulled you flush to him.

“Look at me,” he hissed. Your lip trembled and you raised your eyes reluctantly, “you continue to deflect me; your lord.”

You stared at him, searched his deep blue eyes desperately, and shivered, “I only seek to fulfill my duties as your chambermaid.”

“And I offer you more. Offer you… privilege over duty,” he rasped, “I would not mistreat you.”

Your heart raced and you wiggled in his grasp. You peeked down at your armful, “I should get these to the laundries, as you bid, my lord.”

He was silent, just for a moment, then he let go of you and tore his clothes from your arm. “You would deny me?”

You stumbled back and watched him fearfully, “my lord, I only-- I am only a maid--”

“I have a dozen maids,” he growled, “I would have you as more. I would take care of you.”

He bore down on you again and you backed up until you were at the hearth, the mantle jutting out against your head. You turned your head as he loomed over you and his hot breath washed over you. His hand was again at your throat as his lips trailed along your cheek.

“A lord does not ask,” he sneered, “a servant obeys.”

“My lord--”

“Shhh,” he hushed as he turned your head and pressed his lips to yours. He parted, his nose rubbing against yours as his hand stretched over your neck, “I can be kind or I can be cruel. Thus far, I’ve spent most of my patience on you.”

You quivered as he kissed you again. You were too afraid to resist as his hand descended to your bodice and he squeezed. You gasped into his mouth and he smiled against you. He grasped your waist and pressed himself to you.

Your blood went cold as the panic rose up your spine. As he tugged at your skirts, you were blinded by fear. You reached up along the mantle as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. You couldn’t think through your shock, your body seemed to move off instinct.

You grasped the beaten metal vase and swung it down on Lord Barnes’ head. He grunted and stumbled back as he touched his head and tried to shake away the pain of the impact. You tossed the vase and it bounced over the stone as you scurried for the door. You tripped as you reached the receiving chamber and heard him behind you, his steps slowly gaining strength.

“You little bitch,” his tone turned to fire.

You struggled to get the heavy door open and raced into the hall. You lifted your skirts as you barreled ahead of him on the stone. Your thin soles slapped the mats and you hurdled down the stairs as you heard his pants coupled with your own. Down and down and down and down.

You led him through the mazed corridors and flitted out through the lower doors behind the stables. You fell into the dirt and quickly climbed back to your feet. You tore off across the yard as he swore into the air and his steps came to a halt.

“I will find you!” he shouted as you head for the wall, your only hope was the tree winding up the east corner, “You won’t get far!” You reached the trunk of the towering oak and your hands scraped against the bark as you hopped and latched onto the lowest branch. You heard him calling to others, “saddle my horse! Rise and ready my horse, boy!”

You reached the top of the wall, weak and worn and hooked your leg over the stone. You carefully scaled the uneven brickwork and the tangled vines. As your feet met the dirt, you turned and fled towards the tree line, darkened with the myths of vengeful wraiths and wicked witches, driven by the threat of a worse monster behind you, the voices and hooves an omen of his intent.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #medieval #medieval au #medieval!au #fic #miniseries #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #au #winter soldier

[maizumis]

— HAIKYUU BOYS HAVING A TEA PARTY WITH YOUR DAUGHTER

ft. timeskip!miya atsumu, bokuto koutaro, oikawa tooru, kuroo tetsuro, iwaizumi hajime

note: female reader ‼️ watch me write about dad!haikyuu all the moments I didn't have with my own sperm donor

MIYA ATSUMU after a long day at work, you were coming home a little more late than usual and as you were opening the door with a sigh, the first thing you listen is “PEASANT, DO NOT TOUCH THE QWEEN CWON”, yeah that’s definitely your daughter and your pretty sure that the “peasant” is your, oh so-called husband. Curiosity took the best of you, now you were behind your daughter’s door listen carefully what atsumu was saying to her, “WHATYA MEANT PEASANT? I WANNA WEAR A CROWN TOO YA KNOW!” your daughter gasps in disbelieve, “daddy, mom is da queen, I’m da princess and yer the peasant! And clearly, mommy isn’t here so don’t touch her cwon!” One thing you know is that you wouldn’t like to see and hear a screaming match between the peasant and the princess in question, thinking that stepping in is the best option, you said “what’s the matter in here?”, next thing you know, your daughter with his big brown eyes that she got from her father, comes running at you, screaming “momm- I mean queen! Yeah, queen! yer just on time for the tea party, this peasant needs to learn some manners” you picked her up, enjoying the way her little arms go around your neck, “yeah? What did dada do this time?” while her face is on your neck, she tells you with a whisper “psss mom, he is not dad now, remember is tea party time” and now with her voice a little more loud she announces to you what he did “he wanted to use ya cwon!  Literally had to scream at him cause of that! Peoples this time are onbelivabol” the las part coming with a sigh, “ugh I now right? Why don’t we teach him some manners then?” After a little thinking, your daughter tells you “uh-huh! Yer right my queen, now I will leave to the bathroom and come back to continue this celebration”. While she leaves, atsumu comes at you with a back hug asking if ya really taking her side? with a low tone, so you replied with “of course I’m taking her side, she’s a child, our child in fact” atsumu looks at you with big eyes and tells you “she is right, people these times are onbelivabol but I still love you my queen”, now facing him, noses and foreheads touching each other you whisper to him “I love you to my peasant” and after a little chuckle you continue “thank you so much for this”.

 BOKUTO KOUTAROU he always had tea parties with his daughter on Mondays after his volleyball practice with the MSBY. He couldn’t go to last week's party because of an away game, and he was devasted and promised her little princess that he would get her something. Now he is coming home from the airport with three Elsa dresses, one for his precious child, the other for his precious wife, and the last one for him, it was very difficult to find one of his size cause of his beefy body, but if he promises his little girl something, he is gonna make it without a doubt. “HEY HEY HEY! GUESS WHOS HOME” he screams while putting his suitcase down “HEY HEY HEY DADDY! I MISSED YOU SO MUCH! MOMMY IS MAKING DINNER WHILE I PREPARED OUR SUPER DUPER EXTRA TEA PARTY!!” he picks her up with one arm, making his way to the kitchen to involve you in a hug with the arm he had free “we missed you, kou” snuggling into his neck, and while his arm tightens around you he replies with a soft tone “missed my two girls too, so much” he puts her daughter on the floor again and tells her “missy I have a surprise for our tea party, why don’t you finish the preparations and then mom and I are gonna go there with dinner? Sounds good?” whit a little nod she answers with “yeah dada, that sounds good”. After hearing her enter her room you ask your husband what did he get for her, and when he tells you he didn’t get one, not two but three princess dresses you’re over the moon, the fuck you’re going to do with three dresses? you don’t question him and keep cooking as if you wouldn’t have to put on a frozen show in less than half an hour. “BABY IM COMING TO YOUR ROOM WITH HOT FOOD, BE CAREFULL” the little girl sees you in all your glory, with the most beautiful Elsa dress she ever saw “MAMA, WHY YOU DIDNT TOLD ME ELSA LET YOU BORROW HER DRESS? YOU'RE SO PWETTY!” laughing a little at her comment you decide that it was the best to tell her is a secret between adults, excited to see her reaction when her dad comes to her room with the same dress on him and a little one for her. “IM COMING IN!” your husband yells and your daughter’s eyes are the bigger you ever saw them, running like the flash to steal the dress that was in his dad's hands. “Daddy, that dress is so pwetty on you, and there's one for me! We are all matching! And now we are gonna have our four curse, ugh no, cruse, ump corse, mommy how do I say it?”, “course darling, four meal course. Now dada, why don’t you come to eat with us this fancy dinner?” after nodding and making his way to the both of you, bokuto thinks he is gonna ask for another kid one of these days.

#haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu!! #hq #hq!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x y/n #haikyuu!! x you #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #bokuto koutaro #bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa fluff #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo fluff #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #mai’s!works

[seokstrivia]

Neon Lights | dpr live

↬ Summary: You and Dabin work in a club, that’s it, that’s the fic

or, a cute moment between two friends 

↬ Club!AU | word count: 2.4k

↬ DPR Live x Reader: friends to lovers au, slowish burn, it takes place in a club where the two of you work, confessions, one-shot, fluff, minor angst, it's just short and sweet 

↬ A/N so this is my first khh fic on this account, if you have any questions don’t hesitate to ask, I hope this was enjoyable and you all welcome my love for khh to this blog, thank you <3 

A long and tiring sigh parted your lips as you dragged your feet towards the cloakroom. Sure, getting paid meant that you could buy food and feed yourself, pay bills and stay warm through winter, but you were 100% certain that it did not mean never getting any time to rest.

You were putting your jacket away when you heard a small chuckle behind you, one that you knew all too well. A pout formed its way onto your lips while you turned around to face the one person you would do absolutely anything for.

Hong Dabin— your work best friend.

“Good to see you’re happy to be here!” His tone was chirpy, but as usual, laced with sarcasm.

It made you roll your eyes before straightening your shoulders and crossing your arms. Almost in a way to intimidate him or stare him down, but he only smiled in return and you sighed in defeat.

“Do you know how hard it was to stay awake during my last lecture today?” You moaned as you followed him to his spot at the bar. “Clarkson’s monotone voice seeps right through me, I don’t know if I can take it anymore.”

Dabin shook his head before laughing at the forlorn expression etched into your face. Sometimes he wished he could take a picture so he could keep it forever, but you would probably threaten him and force him to delete it.

He knew you well. Maybe, a little too well.

“You’re just being dramatic as usual,” he told you, earning a scoff in return. “I’ll treat you to a nice meal once we’re out of here.”

That was enough to lighten your mood and get you situated at the front door, minutes before opening, with a smile on your face.

The rest of the night was nothing more than a blur, your job was to sit at the register by the front doors making sure anyone who walked in paid before going any further into the club. But it got boring and quiet after a certain time and, to be honest, the only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting something to eat with Dabin.

Hence, as soon as you were done with work and as soon as the place was vacant, you frantically sped towards the cloakroom to find Dabin. He was already there, tugging his jacket over his shoulders before twisting around to face you with a sheepish smile.

That’s not good. You sighed.

“No food?”

He went to open his mouth to speak; probably to spout out a reason or two, but you'd beat him to it.

“It’s okay! There’s always a next time.”

The smile on your face didn’t falter, it wasn’t fake— it was genuine and that was something he loved about you.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” That was the last thing he said before hurrying out the door.

You watched his figure disappear with pursed lips, wondering what came up—did something happen within his family? Did his friend finally break up with his snotty girlfriend? Did his goldfish die—wait, he doesn’t have a goldfish?

A giggle parted your lips as you laughed at yourself while moving for your jacket and bag. It was finally time to go home after a long and somewhat exhausting week.

Your bed was calling your name.

>

"You know what we should do?" Your friend urged, face way too close to yours.

"Sleep forever?" You mumbled in question while moving your face away from hers.

She chuckled in return, full and hearty before playfully bumping your arm with hers, "no silly! We should go clubbing this weekend."

A grunt left your lips, you knew this was coming from the second you'd informed her of your first weekend ever off work.

"That's far from what I think we should do this weekend," you told her before moving your chair slightly away from hers.

Mina was always bursting your personal space bubble without fail.

However, you could never stay mad at her, she was your best friend since birth and had never left your side. She was also extremely supportive, albeit annoying.

"I think it'll be fun."

You turned to stare at Mina, there was a pout on her face as if it would help convince you to say yes.

Unfortunately, it did help.

"Okay, fine! We can go clubbing."

A shriek of happiness emitted from her lips in excitement, it had been a while since you two hung out on the weekend and truth be told, she missed being able to spend time outside of University with you.

But, so did you.

Okay, so maybe you wouldn't be able to sleep the whole weekend away, but at least you'll have a good time.

Plus Dabin would be tending the bar.

The rest of the week was spent talking about what to wear, what time to be ready by and what drinks to buy to get a little tipsy before going to the club.

Mina wouldn't stop talking about, 'the best weekend ever,' it was annoying sometimes, but you couldn't bring yourself to get mad at her since it had been a while since you got the weekend off.

You missed it.

"Is Dabin working tonight?" Mina asked while finishing her makeup.

You were ready half an hour ago, but you never really dressed up. Comfort was always the way to go.

"Yeah, he should be unless he calls in sick," you told her while sipping on your drink.

Mina's eyes met yours through the mirror, the smirk on her lips had you rolling your eyes as she bounced her eyebrows up and down in a teasing manner.

"Shut up," you snorted.

She shrugged her shoulders before returning to her makeup, "I didn't say anything."

A chuckle parted tour lips making her smile.

"You didn't have to."

Sometimes you thought you could read her mind, but in reality, you just knew each other that well.

***

The club was already bouncing with people, most of the crowd was already drunk but, that was a given with cheap drinks.

Mina stretched for your hand and proceeded to skillfully advance through the crowd to get to the bar. A smile made its way to her lips when she noticed who was working at the bar.

"Will you buy me a drink while I quickly go and pee?"

You rolled your eyes at her before telling her to be careful and quick.

When you turned to face the bar after watching Mina disappear towards the toilets, you were met with Dabin's big, cheesy grin.

"Hi! I'm surprised to see you here," he teased, moving closer so you could hear him better. "I thought you would be in bed sleeping."

You flicked his forehead with your finger causing him to grimace in pain, "Mina said she wanted to go out, so... very reluctantly, I said yes."

He chuckled in response, feeling sympathy and understanding that you would much rather be asleep than somewhere loud and crowded.

"Well, can I get you anything?"

You shook your head, 'no,' before glimpsing at the direction Mina was standing, "he's gonna keep her distracted for a while, so I think... I'll just hang around here."

"And keep me company?" Dabin replied as he glanced away from the two now making out. "I'm flattered."

A chuckle parted your lips as you made yourself comfortable on one of the many empty bar stools.

The majority of the night was spent talking to Dabin, catching up and talking about how Uni was going for the two of you.

It was nearing 1:30 am when Dabin finally asked you if you were ever going to get off your ass and enjoy your night.

"You think there’s a reason that I sit at the counter talking to you all night while you bartend... No, of course, there isn't- WHO’S THAT GIRL AND WHY IS SHE WINKING AT YOU?"

You were drunk.

Dabin rolled his eyes and shook his head, "that's my ex."

You gasped in return, this was your first time hearing this, "you have an ex? But you told me that you'd been single all your life."

"I told you I was single most of my life."

"What's the difference?"

Dabin shrugged his shoulders, annoyed that you thought he'd been single forever. Did you think he was ugly or something? Maybe you thought he would only ever make it as a friend.

A sigh parted his lips as he stepped away to serve others at the bar.

You stopped staring at his ex only to find Dabin was on the other side of the bar—with a frown etched on his face.

Was it something you said?

When he came back towards your end, he handed you bottled water before turning to leave again, however, you were quick to grab for his arm, a look of concern lazed across your features.

"I'm sorry if I upset you."

Dabin removed your hand from his arm, he glanced over at his ex before making eye contact with you, "it's not like you would understand. You're the one who's been single their whole life."

His words didn't hurt because they were true, and they didn't mean anything to you. You just hadn't found the right person yet, but it wasn't difficult to understand that Dabin was upset.

And that it was most likely your fault.

>

"Are you working tomorrow night?" Mina asked.

You nodded.

"Is Dabin working."

An exhalation parted your lips as you shook your head, 'no.'

"He's off this weekend," you told her.

Mina knew you were still beating yourself up over the whole ex ordeal with him, even if you couldn't pinpoint exactly what you had said that upset him.

This is why she spoke to Ian, Dabin's best friend, and asked him if they were going out clubbing Friday night. Let's just say she was over the moon when he said yes, and you were slightly freaking out when she told you.

"Wow," Mina exclaimed when she reached the bar. "So, you're bartending tonight!"

You chuckled at the excitement in her tone and nodded your head, "someone called in sick, so I'll be stuck here tonight."

"This is great!" She shouted before going off to find the friends she'd come out with.

It wasn't long before the bar was filled with people asking for drinks, it kept your mind busy and distracted from Dabin.

It kept you so distracted that you didn't even notice him sitting on the stool at the far end of the bar. The very seat you'd taken just last week.

It made you smile, but also made you feel nervous.

"Hi," you spoke softly, but loud enough for him to hear. "What can I get you?"

The scowl on his face caught you off guard, but the slur in his voice told you that he was very drunk.

"Do you think I'm ugly?"

You stared at him for a solid minute before pinching his cheek, even though he was drunk, he could still feel the pain.

"Of course I don't think you're ugly!" You argued. "What gave you that idea?"

He shrugged his shoulders with a pout on his lips and stroked his cheek, hoping the pain would quickly subside.

"You thought I'd been single my whole life."

"That's only because you'd never spoke about your ex before," you told him. "I don't think you've ever told me anything about your personal life, to be honest."

Dabin stared into your eyes with his red and tired ones.

"I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions," you added.

And then, he smiled.

"If you liked me more than a friend," he slurred in a serious tone. "I would have confessed my feelings by now."

His words caught you off guard but you couldn't ask him what he meant since he was gone and, well, you had a job to do.

However, his words lingered endlessly in your mind for the rest of the night. Was this his way of saying that he liked you? Dabin liked you this whole time and you didn't even know?

Your mind was reeling by the end of the night, Dabin filled your mind with endless thoughts. Wait, if he liked you, why didn't he ask you out on a date?

A sigh parted your lips as you wiped down the bar, watching groups of people huddle together as they were all ushered out of the club.

Mina hurried over to the bar before leaving, her footing was clumsy, but it made you laugh. You assumed she's forgotten the keys to the flat and that's why she was rushing over, however, you were in fact, wrong.

"Did you speak to Dabin?"

You frowned in confusion, "I did, but he was drunk so it wasn't for long."

She nodded her head in response before leaving and waving goodbye.

You rolled your eyes, watching her stumble towards the male she'd met last week. A potential boyfriend she had told you, which didn't surprise you.

It didn't take you long to finish cleaning, but you were exhausted and couldn't wait for your bed. It was nearing 3:30 am when you left the club, the area was empty and quiet as you walked towards your car.

Dabin, who you thought had gone home hours ago, was leaning against the car door. Staring at the night sky, admiring the stars, something in your stomach churned, and you felt your heart begin to beat faster the closer you got.

"Hey," you smiled, keys in hand as you unlocked the car. "You need a ride home?"

His eyes finally met yours, he appeared to have sobered up as a smile rose across his lips, "if you don't mind," he chuckled. "Honestly, I just wanted to apologise."

"For what?"

"For being an idiot," he said. "Selfish, mostly. I got upset that maybe you'd never see me as anything more than a friend."

You punched his arm causing him to wince in pain, "you're an idiot, Dabin."

He shrugged his shoulders while rubbing the pain away.

"If you'd just told me how you felt or I dont know? Asked me out on a date," you argued. "You would have found out that I feel the same."

"You like me?" He asked carefully, eyes searching yours for answers—for anything.

"Yeah, I do."

A wide smile adorned his lips before his arms found your waist and lured you in for a hug, you giggled in return while coiling your arms around his neck.

"Will you go on a date with me?" He asked as he drew back to look at you.

You rolled your eyes, "took you long enough."

#khh imagines #khh scenarios #khh #khiphop #khiphop scenarios #khiphop imagines #dpr live scenarios #dpr live imagines #dpr live #hong dabin #dream perfect regime #dpr #dpr scenarios #dpr imagines #christian yu #dpr ian

[tomhardysteeth]

Use Your Imagination

[ao3]

2.9k Eddie Brock/Venom Based entirely on the Venom: Let There Be Carnage trailer

Eddie woke up to the feel of his body tugging indiscriminately out from his back. He sighed and reached behind himself, easily finding a tentacle and tickling it until it retreated back inside him.

Wake up, Eddie, Venom said cheerily, running a slimy three-pronged tendril across his face delicately. We’re hungry.

“Ugh, can’t you just bring me something in here?” Eddie replied grumpily, burying his face in his pillow.

No. Venom took control of his legs and lifted him up and onto the floor, and Eddie momentarily lost his balance before a tentacle righted him.

Eddie groaned and stretched his back, cracking it. He headed to the bathroom and took a piss while a tentacle brushed his teeth.

He was exhausted, because he and Venom had finally tracked down all the guys harassing Mrs. Chen and had spent half the night running—literally running—them down. But Venom was even more chaotically energetic than usual because it had gotten to eat three people.

And Eddie couldn’t drink caffeine anymore—Venom hated it—so he was resigned to his orange juice and to spending the entirety of the morning just trying to wake up. 

“Babe, what the hell are you making?” Eddie asked as his body shifted minutely with the extension of several tentacles all over the kitchen. 

Breakfast, Venom replied as it knocked several things out of the fridge and onto the floor.

“You can’t possibly be hungry.”

No, but you are. 

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how their digestive systems worked, but he knew his body didn't even notice when they ate people, and his appetite was completely different than it used to be and also completely different from humans in general. He had to eat big, disgusting meals at least three times a day, and despite Venom assuring him that they both needed the sustenance to survive, Eddie couldn’t help but notice that he had gained weight.

Not that he could get on a scale. He broke his bathroom scale when he tried, presumably because a massively dense alien inhabited his body. That being said, his belly stuck out farther than it used to and his jeans were too tight.

Venom was making a mess and singing along (terribly) to the radio, so Eddie took a seat at the kitchen table and tried to dig his phone out of the pocket of his robe with his hand, but a tentacle got to it first and handed it to him.

He scrolled for a few minutes, ignoring the crashing sounds and the fire that he could see in his peripheral vision. Venom would clean it all up eventually, so it was fine. 

“Don’t forget to feed the chickens,” Eddie said distractedly, still looking at his phone.

Don’t forget to feed the chickens, Venom mocked in a nagging voice. 

They always had a few chickens in their apartment that Eddie got from a local farmer so Venom could eat live meat whenever it needed it. Except for the one chicken Venom had apparently imprinted on and was actually just their pet. Venom had named her Popsicle.

Ta-da, Venom said as it dropped two plates stacked high with who knows what underneath the waffles. 

“Thanks, Vee. Looks great,” Eddie lied. 

Venom swirled the end of a tentacle across his face, and Eddie reached up a hand to hold it steady so he could kiss it. 

Venom always helped with eating, because despite Eddie’s weird appetites, he still found it difficult to actually put food to mouth without gagging a bit. He also hated how long it took to eat enough to make him full, so Venom took to mindlessly feeding him, quicker than Eddie could feed himself, while he checked his emails and read the news.

What do you want to do this weekend? Venom asked as it put a fork to Eddie’s mouth.

“Nothing,” Eddie mumbled around the food.

Oooh, spicing it up a bit from last weekend when we did nothing.

Eddie huffed a laugh and reached for a limb, tangling his fingers through the threads of Venom’s biomass. 

After breakfast, Eddie got caught up in reading on his phone, so Venom took over control of his body and moved him onto the couch. It laid him on his back and propped pillows behind his head and under his arm, then it produced several tentacles out of the center of his chest and took to cleaning the mess it had made.

Eddie couldn’t see his phone past the tentacles, so a smaller tendril emerged and held it for him. His hands free, he stuck his right down the front of his boxers and lazily played with himself. 

Venom ignored him, too busy humming along to the radio to notice that Eddie was getting hard. After about five minutes, Eddie got bored and stopped his hand, resting it palm down inside the waistband of his boxers. His neglected boner softened.

There was a knock on the door, followed by Anne’s voice shouting at them to turn off the music. 

Eddie jumped and reflexively sucked a couple tentacles back into his body. Another limb caught his phone before it fell to the floor, then even more tentacles came out of his back and pushed him upright and closed his robe for him. 

Venom had cleaned much of the mess in the kitchen, but there was still cereal all over the counter, dishes piled precariously in the sink and on the stove, bullet holes in the fridge door, a tire swing hanging by the kitchen table, gaping holes in the ceiling, a four-foot stack of various bones from different creatures in the corner—hacked up by Venom during digestion.

“The chickens—grab the fucking chickens,” Eddie whisper-shouted as he walked to the door, Popsicle under his arm. 

Venom grabbed the other three chickens and held them out of sight of the cracked door. 

“Hey, Annie,” Eddie greeted. 

She tried to peer through the door, but Eddie had a tight grip on it, only revealing a sliver of his body to her. 

“You didn’t text me last night,” she said.

Eddie closed his eyes. “Right. Sorry. We got home really fucking late, and it just slipped my mind.” 

“Eddie, I have to know you’re OK.” Anne tilted her head and moved her eyes like if she looked hard enough then the door would magically swing open. 

“We’re fine, Annie. We took care of things.” Eddie avoided telling Anne details of his and Venom's vigilantism, but he always tried to text her to let her know they were safe. 

“Eddie.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you holding a chicken?”

As Eddie looked down at the chicken under his arm, Anne shoulder-tackled him and the door simultaneously and made a break for it into his apartment. Venom immediately encased her in tentacles and tossed her back into the hallway and slammed the door shut in her face.

I HAVEN’T FINISHED CLEANING UP IN HERE, ANNIE, AND I’D LIKE TO SPEAK TO YOUR MOTHER ABOUT YOUR FUCKING MANNERS, Venom shouted.

Several neighbors yelled and banged on the walls, demanding that Venom shut the fuck up. 

“HEY!” Eddie shouted at the top of his lungs. He grabbed a broom with his hand and a mop with a tentacle and aggressively hit the ends of them against the ceiling and walls. “NEED I REMIND YOU FREELOADERS WHO TOOK CARE OF CRAIG?” 

Craig was their (missing for 35 days and counting) landlord. 

Anne pounded on the door. “Eddie, open this fucking door, I swear to god!”

Eddie forcefully cracked the door, only enough for Anne to see one of his narrowed eyes. “You’re not allowed to judge how we live.”

She pushed on the door, and he allowed her to come inside. A solid minute passed in which Anne stood in the middle of the apartment with her hands on her hips and surveyed the room without saying anything. Then, in an even tone:

“Alright. First question. Tire swing?”

Venom continued cleaning. Eddie stood next to Anne.

“Do you want the real answer or the PG answer?”

Anne’s whole body revolted. “Ew, oh my god. Gross, gross, gross—”

No, Annie, look, it’s just for this, Venom said, extending a head out of Eddie’s shoulder and snaking several tentacles around the tire. It spun the tire as fast as possible in one direction and then unraveled itself in a gooey mess as the tire spun in the other direction. 

“Oh,” Anne said. “Is that really what you use it for?”

Venom’s head was in the middle of the tire with limbs extending out to swing itself back and forth. No, I suspend Eddie in it and fuck him until he cries.

Anne cursed and threw her hands up in the air. Eddie and Venom laughed.

“Alright, next question.” Anne said after she had recovered. “Are the chickens for eating?”

“Yeah, except for Popsicle.” Eddie pointed across the room at where Popsicle was pecking at unidentified detritus on the floor.

“How the hell do you know which one Popsicle is?” 

“What do you mean? She’s that one.” He pointed again.

“They all look the same, Eddie.”

No. Popsicle looks like that. Venom pointed a tendril toward Popsicle. And the food looks like that. Another tendril split off into three prongs to point at the other chickens. 

Anne dropped her head and put her fingers to her temples, rubbing in circles. 

The toaster oven exploded. 

“Jesus, Vee, what did I tell you about—”

WELL maybe if SOMEONE would let me steal an oven then we could—

“Where the hell are we gonna put an oven in here? You gonna steal it from one of our neighbors?”

They continued arguing with each other while a tentacle grabbed a fire extinguisher from their stash of fire extinguishers in the coat closet and put the toaster oven out. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna get your deposit back, Eddie,” Anne said, still looking around his apartment. Her eyes stopped on the wicker basket full of dildos by the TV, but she didn't comment on it. 

A rock hit Eddie’s window. Venom opened it and stuck a tentacle out, and the neighborhood kids down on the street cheered and asked if it had time to play. 

“Go ahead, babe,” Eddie said.

It always felt a little strange when Venom removed so much of itself from inside Eddie’s body. It of course had to leave some still inside him, but just one tiny thread connected them together as Venom fanned out on the outside of the apartment building and juggled as many mundane objects as the children had in their power to throw up at it. Rocks, old toys, dolls, basketballs, baseball bats, a lawn chair, a pan of broccoli casserole, a cat. 

“How the hell do you live like this, Eddie?” Anne asked. 

Eddie cleared a space on the kitchen counter by shoving cereal onto the floor, then he grabbed two mugs off the sink pile and dug the coffeemaker out from the back of an extremely disorganized cabinet. The coffee itself was hidden from Venom in a plastic bag duct taped to the wall behind the fridge, so Eddie easily nudged the fridge to the side to retrieve it. He figured if Venom played with the kids long enough, he could get a little bit of caffeine in his body without it noticing. 

He said to Anne, “I’m in a relationship with an alien. What do you expect?”

Anne looked at the fridge then at Eddie, clearly confused by his inhuman strength. “I don’t know? For you to still act like an adult human?” 

Eddie internally tugged at the strands of Venom still inside him and found just enough biomass to make thick black veins pop out all over his face. “How ‘bout now? Do I still look like an adult human?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie pulled the veins back in. “Stop worrying about us, Annie. I know it looks like a disaster in here, but that’s because our life is a disaster. It works for us.”

A child shrieked in a loud laugh. Eddie could just barely see through the window that Venom was juggling the 5-year-old twin girls that lived in the apartment below them. 

“Babe!” Eddie yelled. “Put the girls down before somebody calls the fucking cops!”

The girls aww’d their disappointment as Venom carefully lowered them to the ground. 

“Eddie.”

He turned his attention back to Anne and waited for her to continue.

“Are you, um, safe? Like, what are the logistics of your...sex life?”

Eddie scrubbed a hand down his face. “Well, Annie, Vee is made up of a whole bunch of malleable tentacles, so I’d say use your imagination.”

Venom slithered its way back in, so Eddie tried to gulp down his coffee but didn’t finish before a tentacle wrenched it out of his hand and slung it into the sink.

“How do you know you’re not, like, subjecting yourself to some kind of alien STDs?” Anne asked. “Or, like, what if it’s changed your body composition so much that you guys are, like, capable of reproducing?”

Venom and Eddie both gasped and smiled at each other, Venom’s head floating just a couple feet away from Eddie’s. 

Eddie said, “Oh, that would be so cute if we had a little—” at the same time that Venom said Aww imagine if it had your good looks and my complexion—

“Fucking Christ, you guys are intolerable,” Anne interrupted. “Can you not be weird for, like, two seconds?”

Venom pouted at her and moved its head over to Eddie’s shoulders, nudging at his face and bumping against him like a needy cat. It wrapped two big tentacles around his waist like arms, and Eddie dropped his hands over them and squeezed affectionately. 

“What else did you come over here for, Annie?” Eddie asked.

She cleared her throat. “I was going to ask if you and Venom would like to come over to my apartment sometime to have dinner with me and Dan.”

Venom’s head popped up from where it was resting on Eddie’s shoulder. Dan is finally ready to hang out with me?!

“Yes, but he’s still a little delicate since—”

I tried to stick my tongue in his mouth when you were kissing him goodbye before going to rescue Eddie from Riot, yeah, I get that.

“You what?” Eddie asked.

“So if you could just try to temper yourselves a tiny bit, maybe leave the chickens at home and don’t talk about fucking each other,” Anne concluded. 

“He knows that we’re fucking each other, though, right?”

“Yes, but knowing it and being confronted with it are two totally different things.”

Hey, Annie, tell Dan I think he’s boring.

“Hey, be nice,” Eddie chastised, reaching a hand up to pat Venom’s face. 

Anne told them she would let them know a date and time, then she headed for the door with Eddie close on her heels. She turned and hugged him on her way out and didn’t flinch when a couple tentacles clung to her, too. 

They’re not going to feed us enough, Venom said after she was gone. 

“Yeah, we’ll have to pre-game.”

Eddie went back to his lazy spot on the couch and Venom went back to tidying up. This time, when Eddie’s hand inevitably found its way into his boxers, Venom took notice right away and teased a small tendril out of his thigh to join in on the fun. 

ALEXA, PLAY “LET’S GET IT ON” BY MARVIN GAYE.

“You broke the Alexa yesterday, babe.”

Right, I’ll just have to sing it myself.

Eddie closed his eyes and leaned his head back, stroking himself slowly. “Please don’t.”

Venom rumbled a complaint through Eddie’s entire body, but then it snaked two tentacles over his shoulders and down his chest and pulled his boxers off completely. Two more tentacles pushed out of Eddie’s back and hammocked him in, folding underneath him and then turning up toward the ceiling to grip the holes.

When they started having sex, it wasn’t really so much of a monumental decision as it was Venom participating in literally every single other aspect of Eddie’s life that it just didn’t make sense for it not to be involved in the most fun bit. After Venom had been with Eddie for a week or so, Eddie couldn’t avoid his sex drive anymore and tried to quietly jerk off. Venom, having already stuck its tentacles into everything else Eddie did, simply wrapped a limb around Eddie’s hand and helped him out. And Eddie, stupid and horny, had immediately asked the alien to fuck him with its tongue. 

So, here they were.

With Eddie suspended, Venom moved its head under him and licked its way around his rim. There was still only one small tendril helping his hand pump his cock, but they had plenty of time to—

“Eddie, I forgot my—oh my god, oh my fucking god, oh my fucking—”

Eddie dropped back down on the couch, biomass encasing his nakedness in a safe little cocoon, but Anne had already rushed out the door and slammed it shut. 

He sighed. “I guess she doesn’t have to use her imagination.”

#venom #venom 2 #symbrock #venom fic #symbrock fic #veneddie #venom let there be carnage #wouldn't it be cool if i knew how to tag things #my fics

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: II

“You can call me when you feel like

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

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

Let me be your goodnight”

-Temporary Fix, One Direction

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

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

word count: 15.8k

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s waiting for an invitation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take off your clothes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

Harry is bored.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and give me a minute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles blog #one direction fanfiction #one direction fic #one direction imagine #vampire!harry #vampirerry #vampire!harry styles #vampire au #ysijwa #harry styles series #smut #1d smut #1d fic

[toomanyfandomssss]

His Girl - Four

In a sort of protective manner, Violet opted to walk with Clarke and Wells in case Bellamy and Murphy decided to pull anything. And of course, her intuition was correct.

"Hey, hold up." Bellamy pushed through some trees as he and Murphy caught up with Violet, Clarke, and Wells. Waving his gun in the air he continued,"Whats the Rush? You don't survive a spear through the heart" he smirked arrogantly. A tone Violet thinks she'll have to get used too from now on.

Murphy pushed Wells forward, "Why don't you do something about it, huh?"

Clarke interrupted, "Jasper screamed when they moved him.  If the spear struck his heart, he'd have died instantly, doesn't mean we have time to waste."

Bellamy grabbed Clarke's wrist and help up her arm, "As soon as you take this wristband off, we can go."

"The only way the Ark is gonna think I'm dead, is if I'm dead. Got it?" Clarke challenged, snatching her wrist back.

Bellamy smirked, "Brave princess."

Suddenly, a voice came from behind the group. "Hey, why don't you find your own nickname?" Fin called out. "You call this a rescue party? You've gotta split up. Cover more ground. Clarke. Come with me."

✶✶✶

Violet and Wells walked together a little ahead of Bellamy and Murphy. The doe eyed brunette had little interest in being around her boyfriend at the moment. As they continued on their way Violet kept catching Well's glances at the spacewalker and princess.

"Are you okay?" she looks at him concerned.

"Yeah," he forcibly smiled at her. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Violet just looked at him, then reached over and squeezed his arm in a comforting manner.

Wells was able to give her a more genuine smile after this act of kindness. Why is a girl like this dating a guy like Bellamy Blake?

Not wanting to see his girlfriend near another guy for any longer, the man himself interupted the moment between the two. "Guess we got more in common than meets the eye, huh?" Bellamy glanced at Clarke and Finn as he spoke. Violet rolled her eyes.

"We have nothing in common." Wells denied.

"No? Both came down here to protect someone we love," Bellamy wrapped his arm around Violet.

Wells stayed quiet, so Bellamy continued. "Your secrets safe with me. 'Course, for you its worse. With Finn around, Clarke doesn't even see you." "It's like you're not even here." he finished, grabbing Violet's hand and pulling her forward to walk with him.

✶✶✶

After Clarke and Finn's discovery of Jasper's goggles near a bloodied rock, they had met up with the other half the group to follow the trail.

Murphy broke the silence, "Hey, how do we know this is the right way?"

"We don't. Spacewalker thinks he's a tracker," Bellamy mocked.

"It's called "Cutting Sign." Fourth-year Earth skills. He's good." Wells defended the long haired boy.

Annoyed, Finn interjected "You want to keep it down or should I paint a target on your backs?" He stopped at a plant as he noticed some blood dripping down. He sunk to the ground to see a rock that had drops of blood on it, coming from the plant above. He and Clarke shared a look.

Bellamy chose this moment to taunt Wells even more, "See? You're invisible."

"Give it a rest Bellamy!" Violet harshly whispered to him, completely over his constant teasing of the chancellor's son. She separated herself from him as much as she could.

He was shocked at the small outburst, getting mildly angry that his girl was defending someone else. His girl.

A loud moan broke out and everyone looked up . "What the hell was that?" Murphy spoke all of their thoughts in the moment.

"Now would be a good time to take out that gun." Clarke suggested.

Everyone moved forward towards the direction of the groaning. They all stopped once they came to the source of it. There was Jasper, strapped to a tree. "Jasper!" Clarke gasped.

Violet was the second one to move forward, after Clarke. "Jasper!" Clarke called out again. "What the hell is this?" Bellamy said before there was a loud snap.

Clarke has stepped onto a trap and was falling when a hand caught onto hers.

She looked up to see that Violet had caught her before she could fall. The brunette immediately tried to pull her up but was having a difficult time by herself.

"A little help?" she called out to the boys behind her.

Bellamy came rushing over and grabbed Violet at the waist as the rest of the boys helped her pull Clarke up. The blonde was breathing very hard after her near death experience. She looked at Violet, "Thank you," she nodded gratefully.

"Anytime," Violet said, letting out a small laugh.

Clarke looked back up at Jasper. "We need to get him down."

"I'll climb up there and cut the vines." "Yeah, yeah I'm with you." Wells offered to Finn.

"No. Stay with the girls. And watch him." Finn orderd. He then gestured to Murphy, "You, lets go."

Clarke noticed something on Jasper, "There's a poultice on his wound."

Wells questioned, "Medicine? Why would they save his life just to string him up as live bait?"

"Maybe what they're trying to catch like's its dinner to be breathing," Bellamy suggested, making Violet grimace.

"Maybe what they're trying to catch is us." Finn said from his spot by Murphy and Jasper, making everyone worry.

As the two boys worked to get Jasper down, there was a strange noise that came from behind them. "What the hell was that?" Murphy asked no one in particular.

Bellamy quickly grabbed Violet and pulled her close to him. "Grounders?"

Clarke noticed a panther beginning to charge at the four, "Bellamy! Gun!" However when he felt for it, he couldn't find it.

The, gunshot came from over where Wells was. He was aiming it at the oncoming animal, hitting it once but it wasn't enough. He kept shooting randomly as the animal made it's way into the grass in front of Bellamy and Violet.

Bellamy was quick to push Violet behind him, shielding her. He would move her and himself the opposite way of where he could hear the dangerous animal.

All of a sudden it went quiet. Hearts racing, the couple held onto each other.

The panther had made it's way behind Violet when it finally jumped out. Bellamy shoved her to the ground and covered her, waiting for the impact of the panther.

When he had heard another gun shot and felt no impact, he looked up. Wells finally was able to shoot and kill the panther. He slowly got off Violet and helped her up, holding her close to his chest. He looked at Wells, "Now she sees you."

✶✶✶

After an eventful day, the small group made it back home to their camp. Bellamy and Murphy who had been carrying the now dead panther, dropped it as Bellamy shouted "Who's hungry!"

Bellamy and Violet embraced Octavia as the 100 celebrated finally having food to eat.

The price of that food though, ended up being wristbands. Violet shook her head as she watched the boy she loved and his hench men taking off wristbands. When Clarke and Finn had come out to see what was going on, they detested it as much as she did. Finn had went up to grab two meat sticks for him and Clarke, knowing Bellamy wouldn't let his girlfriend go hungry. When he went up he was greeted by Murphy who had taunted him about not following "rules".

"I though there were no rules," Finn said before turning around and walking back to the two girls.

One kids who has seen the spacewalkers act of defiance had decided to follow, grabbing his own stick. Unfortunate before he was able to get away, Bellamy punched the poor kids in the face hard enough for him to fall to the ground as the brooding leader glared at Finn.

Violent instantly went to help the boy up, much to Bellamy's dismay. After glaring heatedly at her power-hungry boyfriend, Violet walked the boy to his tent.

Instead of dealing with anymore bullshit today, she opted to go to her and Bellamy's tent to sleep off every stressful event that has happened on the ground so far.

✶✶✶

Feeling herself being lightly shaken, Violent opened her eyes only to see Bellamy sitting next to her, one hand on her shoulder and one hand cradling her face.

He takes the hand from her face and reaches next to him to grab the panther meat he had saved for her after she had walked off. "You need to eat angel," he softly demanded.

"You need to stop being an ass." Violet retorted, accepting the food.

"I have to be strict or else the kids won't follow orders," Bellamy defended.

Violet tiredly shook her head, "There's a difference between being a leader, and being a power-hungry dictator Bell."

The boy sighed, equally as exhausted "Can we please not fight, I just need you to eat angel."

Nodding, Violet silently finished up her meal before laying in her boyfriends awaiting arms. She put her head on his chest listening to the sound oh his heartbeat, lulling herself into a deep sleep.

#bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake fanfiction #the 100 #bellamy imagine #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy fanfiction #the 100 imagine #the 100 imagines #bellamy x reader #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake smut #bellamy smut #the 100 smut #the 100 x reader

[parkers-gal]

hey honey! how are you doing?

i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is either tom or harrison’s sister, around 19-20 years old, and she hears her brother talking bad about her behind her back and she gets distant towards them and her brother realizes how much he’s missing out on (her first boyfriend and stuff like that)

sorry if it’s long or if you don’t wanna write it lol it was just an idea!!

don’t be sorry! i loved this! also doing pretty good :-)

i didn’t really understand what was in the ending parentheticals so i hope this is what you wanted!

wc: 1.7k

—

Being the established girl in a group of four boys meant a lot of things. Often, you were confused as a girlfriend to whichever boy you were accompanying, aside from your brother, of course. There was a lot of territory that came with being close family-friends with the Holland family. Especially since your brother used to be Tom’s assistant. It was expected, though, because they had been close friends growing up, especially since being in the same grade. 

You were younger, which meant you were in between ages for the twins and Paddy. You didn’t consider yourself too young for them, though, and found yourself in the presence of the boys for most of your time. 

Today, however, you were with your friend Aisha, walking around the shops. She had to leave unexpectedly early, so you parted ways. You came into the house quietly, setting a few things as you silently made your way into the kitchen. It wasn’t actually your house, but you practically spent all of your time there anyways. You heard voices coming from the den. Though you knew it was wrong, you halted in announcing your arrival, choosing to listen in on what they seemed to be joking around about. 

“Finally got ‘er off your back, huh mate?” You heard Tom’s voice, followed with joined laughter from everyone else. Your mind wandered, thinking maybe Harrison had a girl he was interested in, though he never brought that up, so you stayed quiet to hear more. 

“Yeah. Out with Aisha or whatever.”

Your eyes widened as the realization dawned on you. You purse your lips and think not to assume anything just yet. 

“That her only her friend?”

“Honestly,” Harrison laughs in agreement. “Mum said to be a good older brother but I’m tired of playing babysitter.” They all laugh again and you will yourself not to burst into anger — or worse: cry. “She’s gotta grow up or something.”

“Mate.” Tom snickers. “She needs a life. The boys are a tight circle; can’t let no baby sister in on that.”

“Yeah,” Harry’s voice pops in. “Who else would we spill disgusting secrets to?” They laugh seemingly in universal knowledge. 

“Anyways,” Tom settles down. “Good thing we finally got the superior Osterfield alone, for once.”

You abandon your station near the kitchen door and speed walk out the other swing door. You pick your bags up quietly, making for a quick escape as your tears attempt the same. You’re almost done putting your shoes on when Sam comes down the stairs, brows furrowed while he wipes his damp hands on the front of the shirt. You curse in realizing he was probably in the bathroom. 

“Y/N? Everything okay?”

“Uh…” You glance to the hallway that leads to the kitchen, wearily hoping nobody comes out. “Yeah, just uh… forgot I had to do something. I’ll see you later.”

You quickly make your way out of the house, shoving everything into your car while you can, starting the engine with great speed. Sam was in the middle of saying something else to you on your wait out, but he never got around to finishing because you were already out of the door. 

He didn’t mention anything to the boys, trusting that you were okay and that you did actually have something to do. 

That night, you tried not to cry yourself to sleep in your small apartment, one you shared with Aisha. When you woke the next morning, she wanted to go to the skating rink for some fun, so you agreed, eating breakfast before showering. You spent the entire day there, really, and let your phone in a rented locker, ignoring the texts from a few of the boys asking if you wanted to come over for a movie and some pizza. 

When you did have the chance to reply — over five hours later — you gave them scarce replies in the main group chat, apologizing without much sorrow. From their end, they shook it off, knowing you probably just had other plans that specific day. The five of you were planning on going to the golfing course tomorrow, so you’d get time together then. 

But they were wrong, because you cancelled on them, simply stating that “golf isn’t your mood, today.” They’d accepted that, but Harry knew that was bullshit, because half of the fun of golfing was competing with you.

They tried not to think much of your absence while they were on the field, but it was weird and awfully quiet without you. They’d figured it might be different throughout the week, but they were still wrong. You were with other people throughout the week while you could be, and it only made it worse for the boys because you were posting it all over your social media. Not in a flaunting manner, but just for the aesthetics. They didn’t find it very pleasing, though. 

Harrison knew something was off, knew you didn’t normally just start ghosting people unless you had a real reason. He intended on figuring out what that reason was, and Tom was hell bent on learning it too. They drew up a plan to get you to come over, telling you they had a few of your missing things. You complied, figuring you’d have to face them at some point. 

Strolling up to the house for the first time in ten days, you opened the door as casually as you could, only to be met with four pairs of eyes staring in your directions from seats in the open living room. 

“Uhm,” You cleared your throat. “Where’s my stuff?” Tom wordlessly points to a bag on the head of the couch, and you pick it up wearily, sifting through it while you hummed. “Thanks, I’ll just take this and get out of your hair.” 

“Well, wait-” Tom stands abruptly. “Why… why don’t you hang out for a bit?”

“I mean… do you want to?” The tone in which you speak catches him off guard for all of ten seconds before each of the boys are nodding their heads.

“Of course we do.” Harrison smiles and you nod wearily. 

“Okay.”

However, you don’t make any move in settling down for the long run, and Tom huffs. “What’s going on here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re avoiding us!” Harry concludes. “Why?”

You clear your throat, looking at your feet while your tongue clicks. “I, uhm, I heard you guys talking the other day.”

Harrison raises his eyebrows as a silent message for you to elaborate a little.

“You said you were tired of babysitting me, so I gave you guys some space.” They all physically defeat and you begin to defend yourself. “I just thought it’s what you wanted! You don’t have to explain.” You’re unknowingly beginning to tear up, and they all know it before you do. 

“I think we should talk.”

“No, I- uhm…” You glance out the window to your car. “I should really get going.”

“No!” Harry pleads with you. “We just… we miss you.”

You stop short in your tracks, turning around slowly. “Well I don’t really think you get to. Not after what I heard.”

“That’s not fair, Y/N/N, and you know it.” Harrison’s stern with you, and you can feel the tension beginning to set nicely like a creamer. 

“None of this is really fair for me, so why should it be fair for you?” You point a finger up in their direction while you shrug offendedly. “I mean, if you’re gonna say one thing don’t act like you don’t mean it.”

“But we didn’t,” Harrison says. 

“Really, we didn’t. It was a stupid thing to say.” Tom adds on. 

“Yeah, we’d never say it knowing you were there.”

“Oh, but you’d say it if I wasn’t around?” You’re making this more difficult, you realize, but you don’t much care, because when feelings get hurt, things get difficult, and you’ve come to terms with that. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Harrison crosses his arm. 

“No, but that’s what you implied.” You jab him back with your next words. 

“Stop making this hard.” He’s reminding you of what things were like when you were young and arguments were regular. 

“I’m not the one that started this.” You huff angrily, hand finally gripping the handle of the front door, swinging it open and slamming it harshly with an “I’ll see you all around.” 

Tom blinks, glancing to Harrison in question on what to do next. Harrison sighs and so does Harry. 

“I saw her leaving that day she heard you guys.” Sam speaks calmly, almost nervously. “She was- uh… she was crying.” “Oh jesus.” Tom groans, hands running through his curls. “We made her cry, Haz.”

“I know, I know.” He speaks hastily. “C’mon, I know what to do.” He picks his coat up, opening the front door as the rest of the boys follow him out. 

You’re coming home that night after spending the rest of your day at the country club with some friends. You’re alone, of course, expecting to eat dinner with Aisha, though the two of you normally dine separately because you’re always with the boys and she’s always with her girlfriend. Things are different now, though. 

As you open the door to your flat, you expect to find it dark and empty, but you’re met with your favorite take out meal and four very sorry boys, a large teddy bear sitting on the couch for you. You drop your bags and glance at each of them. 

“What’s all this?”

“We’re really, really, really sorry.” Harrison steps forward with an apologetic smile and three DVD disks in his hands, all of your favorite movies. “But me especially. I love having you around… even if you are my baby sister.” You slap his arm playfully and he laughs. You let a smile creep onto your face at his demeanor. “We really missed you this past week.”

You nodded, fiddling with your fingers. “It just… hurt. You broke the one rule I thought…. The rule I thought we all swore to keep.”

“I know.” He sighs, looking at the boys as everyone says it simultaneously. “The circle before yourself.”

You’d seemingly all established it during your first all-nighter as a group of five. You vowed to put them before your own silly ego or public facade. Obviously, some things are harder for others.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“Can you ever forgive us?” Tom speaks up, eyes deep.

You smile softly, voice laced with feelings. “Of course I can.” You don’t miss the smiles that break out onto their faces, and when everyone comes in for a group hug, they know things are going to be okay. 

read the spinoff! - circles before yourselves - rule #2

#harrison osterfield x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield fanfic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland angst #harrison osterfield angst #peter parker #harry holland #osterfield!reader #tom holland x osterfield!reader #reader fic #reader

[beatleszeppelin]

You're A... Inexperienced Chapter 2

Summary: On watch one night you find out some thing that Daryl has never done. And you offer him some experience.

Category: Friends to Lovers, Eventual Mild Smut, just a good ol’ time

Paring: Daryl x reader (second person)

Warnings/Includes: General Walking Dead grossness, Smut (but not in this chapter), swearing, use of weapons, non-graphic hunting, mention of past child abuse, (let me know if you see anything else)

Word count: 3k

Chapter 1 Masterlist

Chapter 2 Naked in a Lake

The next few days were fairly uneventful. Seeing Daryl only in passing. He stayed outside when you were in; you stayed outside when he stayed in.

Not even shifts brought you together. Since the fall of Woodbury, there have been plenty of new people taking shifts to give you all a break.

Most of your time was spent helping with the kids in the library when Carol was too busy doing important things to “babysit”. Or you occasionally helped out at the farm on the south side of the prison. Rick and Hershel had started it over the past few months, and already it had yielded some fine meals.

Those meals were also made courtesy of Daryl, who went out into the woods on the daily, not going far, but far enough to be out all day and come back with a belt full of squirrels and rabbits by night. You had no idea how he did it or how far he went, but he seemed to be used to the days of solitude, in nature alone.

That was all until he planned to go out a bit farther, only for a couple days, but that was more that he had been gone in a while, more than anyone had been alone for a while. When he shared these plans, you decided that you would go out hunting with him, you know, because there is safety in numbers, (and you were dying to see what he spent so much time doing everyday).

So when morning came, and it was time to leave you brought your bag and followed him to the gate. He squinted at you being blinded by the morning light that rose over the prison. “I’m coming with you, is that alright?” You asked him knowing that he couldn’t argue. You awaited his response, but it never came, instead he had the gate opened and held his arm out like a gentleman letting you lead.

You guys walked past the spikes that guarded the outside of the gates, just as the queens guards once did outside of Buckingham palace. Kicking rocks and dust clouds along the path, walking went fairly slow. Not much to say, not much to do this early in the morning. You hadn’t even waited for Carl and Carol’s shift, which normally signified morning, to start before you had left. (You were sure he had said good-bye to them, Rick, and Judith the night before though. He was good like that.)

When the sun, which was barely peering over the land when you left, had risen enough to give you a long shadow, stretched out in front of you; you decided it was time to eat. Taking the backpack off your shoulders, and unzipping it when it was in front of you, you pulled out a small loaf of bread. You broke it in half and handed some to Daryl. He gnashed into it like a rabid dog, grunting a thank you in between bites.

You nibbled off bites as you walked, trying to savor it as something to do. The scenery of trees and a dirt path was getting old. You couldn’t understand how someone could go out along this path all day every day.

It was hot, too. Hot and sweaty. By mid-day you felt as though you were dragging, lifting your legs in a pedantic manner. Daryl’s hair was stuck to his forehead, and he had stripped his poncho, just left in a cut off flannel. He seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat though, barely even touching his water.

You wonder if he stayed outside a lot before as well. There’s something about him that makes it so hard to imagine him in his house, in a domestic setting. Did he do the dishes, and make himself food? Was his room clean, did he make his bed every morning before work? Did he have a job? What did he do? But you know that wondering these things will only pass the time, because there is no way he’d ever casually mention his previous life.

People had tried guessing, to no avail. Beth’s new boyfriend, Zach, was the leader of the guessers, being followed by the children, and you’ve even discussed it with both Michonne and Carol before. It would really take something special to make him confess his stories to someone, who knows who could get that close to him though.

You spent the majority of your walk picturing him in an office setting, wearing a tie and answering phones. Or at a gas station glaring at little kids who try to stuff candy bars up their sleeves, scaring them into obeying the law.

Mechanic seemed to fit best. Not a sleazy mechanic that finds more things to break to get

some extra cash, but one that spends day and night tracking down an original piece to some old beat up motorcycle. He wouldn’t charge extra for labor, cause he’d be doing the thing he loved most. He would treat each bike as his own, tirelessly making it perfect until the finishing pieces were in their exact place, like the sprinkles on a sundae.

“Gonna cut into the woods, right here.” He nodded, directing you.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you said, snapping out of your little daydream. “Ya’ okay?” He ducked down, meeting your eyes though his hair.

“Yeah, I’s just thinking.”

“‘Kay, just watch out in here. Can’t make too much sound.”

You walked through the dense forest, making as little noise as you possibly could. Heel, toe; heel, toe. Only cracking branches and crunching leaves every few steps, listening to Daryl’s deep steadying breaths in between.

He taught you how to lay traps, and snares; different knots and when to use them. By the end of the day you could set your own, with the reassurance that he would help kill whatever you caught. No matter how many walkers you would kill, and how much bad shit you’ve seen. It still felt weird killing animals to eat.

The trapping, and mapping out your paths came to an end as night fell. The darkness made it too difficult to achieve the superb knots you were tying, and the sub par snares that Daryl would set, so you two decided to call it a night, sleeping in shifts back to back.

The next day went the same, but it was now time for the actual hunting. You left the killing to Daryl, using your lack of a silent long range weapon, like the crossbow as an excuse. You guys sat up wind, and out of the line of sight of any animals that may pass. It was quiet, and you understood why he liked it.

Hunting wasn’t all killing like you had imagined; hunting was 99% sitting quietly in nature, 1% killing.

You can’t lie about the fact that when a deer came into sight, you closed your eyes and didn’t open them until you heard the click of the trigger on the crossbow. You didn’t want to see the animal die, but you can’t feel bad about how many people that deer could feed.

Daryl took care of the dirty work, cleaning, and “prepping” the deer to be taken home. You sat by and watched.

Once the task was complete, you started back for the prison, hoping it would cut some of the time of the walk back tomorrow. This time was cut short by the approaching darkness of night.

You two set up a small camp to spend the ever closer night. And with cans on strings, as tripwire, and your backs to each other, you two felt it was safe enough to get some rest, that was until the cans rattled.

The sounds of metal clanking, shook you from your not so deep sleep. You whipped around to see a walker reaching over your barricade of tangled fishing wire and old soda cans. It stumbled over and grabbed Daryl's boot, luckily he tied up his pant legs with cords to keep from being scratched. You scrambled over to a half awake Daryl and pulled his knife from his pocket, stabbing it into the undead's brain. He nodded graciously as you handed his knife back. You both sat still in the early hours of the morning, breathing heavily until your adrenaline died down.

Your eyes stung from lack of sleep, but it was nothing compared to how Daryl looked. His eyes were puffy, and had dark purple craters around them, and what little you could see of his eyes were bloodshot. His hair stuck up in every which direction, the bangs that normally cover his face, were defying gravity, and exposed his forehead.

“You can sleep, but let's face each other this time,” you planned.

“You sure?” he said groggily.

“Yeah, if you saw yourself, you’d be sure too.”

He scoffed, and pulled his vest out as an acting pillow, tucking one arm under it, and laying his head down. He fell asleep shortly, and you watched.

The expression he made was soft, and innocent, less like a child and more like a puppy that tired out running in a field all day. He subconsciously held his thumb to his mouth. He breathed heavily through his mouth, with quiet snores escaping occasionally.

You didn’t sleep at all that night, you couldn’t let anything disturb the peace. You weren’t tired, though, you actually felt like you had gotten a full night’s rest.

The two of you started home at the crack of dawn, with dull yellow light illuminating the grass you stood on. You took to the woods for your trek home, rather than the long road you took to get there.

Halfway through the day you happened upon a lake that looked beautiful, a direct juxtaposition to everything you had been used to seeing. The water sparkled, and light refracted off the ripples in every which direction. Birds made chirping sounds that echoed through the dense forest, and made a song through the trees.

Daryl grabbed a plastic bottle, and some of the sandy silt that covered the edge of the water, making a makeshift water filter. As he did so, you took off your shorts and threw them aside, wading into the water. The water was greenish, but you could see your feet, and the dust clouding around your steps. The water was warm enough to not give you the chills, but cool enough to be refreshing.

Once the water hit your hips, you took your shirt off and threw it a few feet away from Daryl, joining your shorts, and shortly after your bra. You watched him finish his contraption and fill it.

“Should have some water in an hour or so…” he looked up and saw you, then quickly looked back at his bottle.

“Maybe we could catch a fish or something, too,” you said, smiling at his back. “You should join me in here.”

“Nah” he shook his head.

“Yeah, when was the last time you got cleaned up?”

“I ain’t gonna, someone needs to be a lookout.” He looked up at you, standing his ground. “Anyway, I gotta piss.”

He started walking away and you yelled to him, “Yeah, sure you do, Dixon.” You splashed his way, but he had already walked behind the trees.

A noise came from your left, behind a couple of thick trees. Two walkers stumbled out, slipping on the sandy hill. You didn’t have any weapons on you, and getting back over to your clothes seemed like a death wish. They were closer to the clothes and things than you were. Daryl didn’t even have his crossbow with him, it was in the pile next to the water filter.

You yelled for Daryl, hoping he’d get back before the walkers could reach you. You yelled again, and it drew their attention. They were about at the edge of the water now, and you were fucked… but a whistle came out of the woods.

Daryl showed up and whistled loudly to catch the attention of the dead walking toward you. It worked. They started toward him at a slow pace, and you ran over to the pile of stuff. You picked one off with the crossbow. Daryl tripped backwards on a rock, and the walker stumbled towards him, wishing to bite into the leg that was trying to kick it backwards. He grabbed the rock, lifted it over his head, and smashed it down onto the walker, and hitting it again smashed his head open, covering Daryl in it’s blood. He leaned back and dropped the rock. He took a second to catch his breath.

“Hey, thanks” You said to him as you were naked and dripping like a wet dog.

He sighed and raised his eyebrows. Which you will take as a “no problem.”

Daryl’s hair dripped with blood, guts, and rotting chunks of flesh. His shirt was wet, red, and sweaty. The muddy sand covered his pants and hands, leaving him dirtier than before.

“I guess you have to join me now” you said, still mostly naked.

He begrudgingly kicked off his boots, and slid his vest off down his shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. He started walking to the edge of the water, when you had to stop him.

“What, NO!” You said haulting him, “You are not still wearing your socks.”

He took off his socks, and his pants. He walked into the lake, a couple feet in and the water hit the bottom of his shirt.

You never took Daryl as the type of person to not be okay with taking his shirt off, but here he was: standing in a lake with his shirt on, contemplating whether he should take it off or not. He stood there for a couple seconds before looking at you, and when you gave him a reassuring smile, he took it off. He looked good with it off, you didn’t see a problem, until he turned around.

He whipped around fast to throw his shirt on land, and as he did, you saw his back. He was covered in scars. Yeah, some could be new, from fighting, from surviving, but you take it he’d been surviving for a lot longer than the rest of you had.

The slashes that riddled his skin were old. He could have gotten most of them when he was still a kid. You swallowed hard, he turned and faced you but neither of you met each other's eyes. He got quiet. And as his hand pensively rubbed the back of his neck, as he thought about what you must think of him.

“Hey, come on in the water’s fine,” you said to ease the tension.

It seemingly worked, because the next thing he did was dive under, swimming to you in a second. The water rippled along the path he had swam, and broke around his emerging body. You met his eye. He nodded to you as a thanks, and you shook your head back at him in a no problem kind of way. This practice had become routine, it was easier than constantly owing thanks to the other person for some trivial task such as saving their lives.

He broke eye contact and looked down, “Still gotta piss.”

You snickered. Then stepping back a couple of feet you gestured for him to go right ahead.

He looked at you, head cocked a little, and then the realization hit and his ears turned bright red. He turned around, and you got a better look at his scars. Some were short slashes, some longer, and others crossed over each other. You couldn’t fathom the person that would hit a child, let alone Daryl; Daryl was sweet, and could never have done something that deserved this treatment.

He finished up and faced you, but didn’t meet your eyes. You got a look at him, the man that just pissed in the pool in front of you, his ears were red as well as his cheeks making a bridge across his nose. The blush trailed down to his upper chest in splotches, like watercolors splaying out.

He chewed the corner of his thumb and said, “Ya’ know, I used to piss the bed as a kid.”

“I mean we all did,” You said. “Come here.”

He complied, “Nah, I mean ‘til I’s like 8 or so.”

“Bend over,” you told him.

He leaned back and you started washing his hair for him, detangling it with your fingers, and picking things out of it like you were monkeys.

“I remember a couple times it happened, had to sneak out late at night and do my laundry in the bathroom, so no one’d hear me. But this once, my dad wasn’t home so, I didn’t get… but my mom had this whole ‘nother way of doing it. She took my clothes. Pinned me down, Merle helped. She put a diaper on me, made me sleep outside.”

“When you were 8?” You cupped some water and dumped it over his head.

“Uh huh, made me wear ‘em to school, too. Under my clothes. Said if I took ‘em off she’s gonna tell my dad, so I didn’t.” He went back to biting his thumb.

“That shouldn’t have happened to you,” you said, moving to wash his shoulders.

He shrugged, and flinched away when you ran your finger over a scar on his back.

“You know, stress and trauma cause children to start wetting the bed later on in childhood, it's called enuresis, it wasn’t your fault,” You splashed water on his shoulders, noticing the freckles made by the sun.

“Done?” He asked, standing up straight.

“What?”

“Am I done?” he asked and shook his hair out like a dog.

“Yeah, you’re good.”

Daryl quickly made his return to land, you however stayed in the water until the filter was done giving you each a bottle. Every once in a while you catch him glance over at you floating naked in the lake, but his eyes would quickly divert.

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #twd fanfic #twd #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead #tw past child abuse #I love the lake scene

[yukidragon]

Our Life Snippet - Pretzels and Pop

Been a while since I flashed a clip of my Our Life: Beginnings & Always novelization’s first draft, huh? This time let’s take a peek at part of the Step 1 moment Shopping.

As always, credit for the original wonderful visual novel that fuels so much inspiration in me goes to the game’s creators, @gb-patch.

...

The scent of baked and fried goods, both savory and sweet, wafted through the air, drawing the children’s attention away from the keychain. Cove turned further down the street where he quickly spotted numerous different food carts lined in a row. Most importantly, he saw an array of delicious goodies people were happily eating.

Cove frowned, placing his uninjured arm over his now grumbling tummy as the delicious smells almost seemed to tease him. A quiet rumbling from his side drew his eye to Jamie and he saw she was holding her stomach now as well. “Let’s go get some food.”

“Yeah,” Jamie said with an eager nod. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and she was more than ready for lunch after so much walking around.

The children hurried their footsteps to reach the food vendors quickly, then slowed to consider their options. An array of foods both salty and sweet lay before them, their enticing smells serving to make their stomachs growl louder than before. Everything looked delicious, but they couldn’t sample it all.

After a short discussion considering the merits between foods such as pizza and hot dogs versus snow cones and ice cream, the pair came to a decision and got in line for the pretzel vendor. Cove eagerly ordered a pretzel covered with cinnamon that came paired with a little cup of icing that was far too tempting for him to resist. Jamie almost gave in to that same temptation, but ultimately she chose the pretzel already coated in vanilla icing and adorned with a rainbow’s worth of sprinkles.

Jamie licked her lips as she accepted her colorful treat from the vendor, barely resisting the urge to take a bite before they found someplace to sit. Her moms didn’t want her to eat too much sugar, but it should be fine, she thought; this was a special day and a special outing with Cove after all.

Besides, if Jamie drank milk with it, which was good for her, it would balance out the sugar, right? That’s why she got a carton of milk instead of soda pop like Cove did. She made sure to be the one to carry their drinks for the both of them after tucking her precious keychain away in her pocket, as Cove’s hands were getting pretty full.

The children hurried along to find an empty table for them to sit and eat their tasty treats. Fortune smiled on them as they found one close to the beach, which gave them an unobstructed view of the ocean.

Unfortunately for Jamie, this also meant that it was close enough for sand to cover the ground, and she winced as the chairs made terrible scraping sounds when moved. If her hands weren’t full, she would have covered her sensitive ears, so all she could do was grit her teeth and bear with the pain until they sat down, letting out a sigh of relief when the awful noise stopped.

Cove had been too distracted by setting things down on the table and getting into his seat without letting go of the balloon to notice Jamie’s discomfort for more than a moment before she relaxed. He didn’t know what to make of it, and she brightened up right away, so he supposed it wasn’t anything important.

Besides, there was a bigger issue they had to deal with right now. “These balloons are gonna make it hard to eat,” he said as he looked between the balloon and his pretzel as he tried to puzzle out the problem. He had a difficult enough time carrying everything while trying to keep a hold on the balloon’s string, especially while wearing something as unwieldy as a cast. It was going to be harder when his fingers got sticky with cinnamon, sugar, and icing.

Jamie looked at their balloons and opened her mouth, ready to agree, when an idea suddenly hit her. “Oh!” she gasped. “I know.”

Without bothering to stop to explain, Jamie went into action. She placed the drinks on the table alongside her pretzel, careful to keep her tasty treat on its waxy paper wrapper so that it wouldn’t get sandy. With her hands now mostly free, she hopped out of her chair without moving it so she could round the table to join Cove at his side. Gently, she tugged at the string of his balloon, taking it from his hand. Before he could ask her any questions, she tied it in a delicate bow around the wrist of his uncasted arm.

“Oh,” Cove said, blinking at the balloon now tied to his wrist. He moved his arm up and down a little, testing the stability of the knot. After seeing his balloon bounce and jerk but remain attached to him, he gave Jamie a satisfied smile.

Jamie returned the smile with one of her own as she offered her balloon to Cove. “There, now can you do mine too?”

Cove was only too happy to repay the favor. Unfortunately, the cast got in his way again with the way it restricted his fingers on his left hand, making it difficult for him to move them the way he wanted. The string tied to his right wrist also proved an additional challenge, as he had to be careful not to accidentally tangle both strings together.

Jamie watched Cove work patiently, his fingers feeling ticklish as they kept touching her wrist. The sensation was strange. It made her feel… happy? She liked it, but it was different in a way that left her face feeling warm and unable to look her friend in the eyes.

Finally, Cove managed to overcome the challenge, letting out a satisfied hum as he finished the knot. “Got it,” he said happily.

The two children took a moment to admire their handiwork. It also helped Jamie calm down from the weird feelings. With everything now settled, she returned to her side of the table after placing Cove’s soda closer to him. She was careful not to move the chair again as she squirmed back into it.

Now, both friends were able to finally enjoy their sweet treats and drinks as they admired their ocean view. The sounds of the sea mingling with the crowd served as a pleasant backdrop of ambient noise that left conversation unnecessary as they focused all their attention on enjoying their meal.

Jamie was the first to finish her pretzel with a little bit of regret that there wasn’t more of it. She licked what remained of the icing off her fingers, trying to get every last bit of the sugary goodness until she was sure there was nothing left. As she wiped her sticky hands on a napkin, she looked over at Cove and saw that he was close to being finished, but not quite.

Jamie didn’t want to rudely interrupt Cove’s meal by talking, but without anything to do, she quickly found herself growing bored. She drained the last of her milk as she looked around for something to occupy her time when she spied her balloon bobbing back and forth from the movements of her arm.

Inspiration struck, and Jamie pulled the string down until she could bring the balloon down into her hands. She held it more delicately than any of her stuffed animals as she moved it in what she felt confident was a good imitation of a real dolphin. She twisted in her seat to face towards the beach and held the balloon a little out in front of her as she continued her play, smiling proudly at how it looked as though it was swimming through the waves like that pod of dolphins she saw.

Cove curiously watched Jamie mess around with her balloon as he continued to eat. From his angle, he was able to see what she was going for. A delighted laugh escaped him as he could imagine exactly what she was, and he wanted to join in.

Jamie glanced over at Cove and watched him place what little was left of his pretzel down onto its wrapper so that he could take a hold of his dolphin balloon like she did. She beamed, eager to start a game of pretend with her friend. “Mine’s name is Merriweather,” she said proudly. “He’s the prince of the dolphins. He wears a crown of seaweed and all his friends are merfolk!”

Jamie turned ‘Merriweather’ towards Cove and bobbed it in the most regal manner she could manage, which elicited a giggle from her friend. “Every now and then, he’ll make friends with a kid and let them ride on his back,” she said before letting out a wistful sigh. She wished she could meet a magical dolphin prince like Merriweather for real.

“What’s yours?” Jamie asked eagerly once she shook off the fanciful thought.

Cove took a moment to consider the question seriously. He placed the balloon on the table, laying his cast covered arm across it as his gaze grew distant with contemplation. It took him some thinking to come up with an idea. “It’s-”

A loud and terrible pop destroyed the fantasy Cove had conjured up as the poor dolphin balloon exploded into green ribbons.

The children reeled back from the explosion, both yelping in surprise. For a moment after, the two could only stare at the tattered remains of what had been Cove’s balloon, which now looked more like a pile of seaweed that washed ashore.

Jamie was the first to break the silence. “Oh no…”

When the shock melted away, what had just happened hit Cove hard. His balloon was gone, destroyed beyond hope of repair. It wasn’t fair. He barely had a chance to enjoy it and now it was gone… forever.

#Our Life Beginnings & Always #Our Life #ourlifeba #Cove Holden #Jamie Last #Jamie Leimomi #My Writing