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#cloudy speaks too much
cloudtastrophie · 21 days
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a new breakthrough! the wannabe graphic designer made some more logos but uhh on paper because her drawing pad decided to break 😭
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running-tweezers · 2 months
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It’s eclipse day. I have my glasses. I have a stupid playlist me and my husband made last night that includes every song we could think of that mentioned the sun, moon, or eclipse. Husband’s making burgers outside. It’s our own personal party.
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skautism · 11 months
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i value donuts more than safety during a massive outage after a storm
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arminsumi · 8 months
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I WANT TO KISS YOU / キスしたい
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
you and Satoru falling in love despite a language barrier.
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2.9k
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Summary : you've come to visit Japan to meet these two boys you met online. Though Satoru can't speak English and you can't speak Japanese, the two of you still fall in love. Very cute. Very cheesy. Oh no... wait is there a tension between you and his best friend, too? Oh boy...
Warnings : romantic tension with Suguru / potential love triangle, cat scratch
Note : i think of this fic a lot and i found the continuation hiding out in my drafts sooo here 👍
🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works
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Satoru blinks awake to see your face. His heart beats harder.
結局昨日は夢ではなかったのか? Yesterday was not a dream after all?
He's not an early bird at all, but from the first day of your visit he magically woke up early as if his soul was too excited to sleep when it knew you were right there, in the flesh. No screen. Just you.
When the first day starts, it feels like you've always been together. Was there ever a screen separating the two of you? And were you really going to disappear behind one again in just a month?
今のところ、彼女はここに留まるように感じています。彼女が訪問を終えて出発するとき、私は空港で赤ん坊のように泣くことになると思います。 For now, she feels like she's here to stay. I think I'm going to cry like a baby at the airport when she leaves after her visit.
Morning routines are carried out. The sky is cloudy at first, threatening rain, and by the time you three cluster into the kitchen to make breakfast together, it starts raining.
You and Satoru banter like two cats. Suguru's morning rasp is very strong.
"Satoru... uh... sugar?" you ask, preparing to make yourself a second one and automatically making Satoru another one, since he looks still very bleary-eyed even after spending an hour freshening up in the bathroom.
"...? Yes?" he tilts his head, then you raise the sugar cube jar. "Yes. Uh... four. Thank you."
Suguru's blushing because of the cute tension between you and his best friend. It fills the whole kitchen, which already felt full with their two bodies and a third one now. Everyone keeps bumping elbows and yet not complaining about it, in fact it's enjoyable to be squished together. Maybe because you three waited so long to be together in person, you don't mind it. There's a silent, ever-present comedy in the air about the tight proximity.
You hum happily, tossing in one, two, three... four? That's a lot of sugar. "Suguru, tell Satoru he mustn't have so much sugar all the time. It's not good for his health."
Suguru laughs. "I try to tell him that every day. But his sweet tooth is incurable."
"His dentist must hate him." you smirk at Satoru, who's been looking at you blushingly after hearing his name mentioned.
彼女の声が今では一番好きな音だと思います。 I think her voice is my favorite sound now.
もう一度私の名前を言ってください。 Please say my name again.
"Satoru? Coffee?" you interrupt his lovey-dovey thoughts and he suddenly reanimates himself, because for a moment there he zoned out and just stared at you with those pretty eyes.
"Mmm... thanks." he takes the coffee from you with a noticeable timidness that you can't quite explain. There's a lot about him that's indescribable, you're having a small internal crisis; aren't you supposed to be fluent in English? And yet you can't even begin to describe just how sweet and gentle Satoru behaves. The most you can do is use metaphors that barely justify him.
"Suguru, tell her... her voice is nice, and also sorry for cuddling you in my sleep (and that she can definitely kick me away at night if it bothers her.) Also!" (the three of you head into the living room, and Suguru habitually trips over the cat who stalks under his feet too quietly to notice) "Also tell her... if it rains today, does she still want to go out? Because if we go out in the rain, she might get sick. And I don't want her to get sick on her trip. Not that I'd mind taking care of you, Y/n, of course."
Suguru lets out a long sigh and pulls a funny face. You smile amusedly.
"...It's too early to be a translator..." he grumbles in English after Satoru overloads him.
"What? C'mon tell her everything I said!"
"Let me have my coffee first. How about the two of you write to each other?" he suggests, putting the rim of the cup to his lips and sipping languidly.
"Eh, fine." Satoru pouts, and stalks off into his bedroom to get his phone.
Then, when he's in his bedroom, his chest flutters for some reason when he sees your suitcase standing there opened and emptied into the free cupboard space. He takes his phone, smiles at the homely feeling of seeing your belongings in his room, and leaves.
"Oh..." he has a sudden idea, and remembers the magnetic drawing board that's hanging in the kitchen. He and Suguru usually use it for writing reminders to each other, like get milk or you're an idiot or sometimes it has doodles of Mint the cat with sunglasses on.
So he returns to you with this magnetic drawing board, and points at it meaningfully, then holds one finger up and bows his head as he begins writing very slowly.
Suguru's checking the weather forecast and muttering sour complaints under his breath to you. "Of course it would rain for three days just when you arrive... at least by the weekend it will be clear and sunny..."
"Mmm... it's alright. A little rain never hurt nobody." you respond.
"I like your optimism." Suguru compliments flippantly at first, but then continues; "It's really uplifting. I think Satoru said something about you being a joy once, he said it really poetically but I can't recall it now."
"Aw..." you dip your head beneath your coffee cup, hiding the bashful expression on your face, which Suguru chuckles at.
And then, for a long moment, you just stare and watch Satoru writing on the board. You're completely captured in this moment, completely captivated in his enveloping presence as he sits next to you. He has slow, meticulous wrist movements. His knees press together, like he's worried that he'll invade your personal space if he sits too comfortably close to you. Funny, considering he cuddled you all night and you had no complaints about it.
He's writing very simply and neatly, just like how he texts you. You're a bit baffled by the characters he's using, though he's trying his best to avoid using any kanji knowing that you don't know a lot of it. He's sure you can figure things out by slowly pronouncing each hiragana character, or at least he hopes.
"Here." he hands you the magnetic drawing board, and then raises from the couch to go feed the cat.
"Minto-Minto... " he calls after the cat and makes a small cute sound to lure her out.
You're trying to read each hiragana character, eyes squinting a bit.
Suguru leans in close to you. He just takes a look, but the proximity for some reason gives both of you butterflies.
"Ooh... that's cute." Suguru comments after reading what Satoru wrote. His voice reaches deep in your tummy.
"Hm... I'll spell it out and... figure it out... anyways, why did you name your cat Mint?"
"Oh... well. There's two reasons. So the first..." he sets down his coffee, like he's about to tell you a great story, "Is because Satoru watched this show called Tokyo Mew Mew growing up, and he liked the character Minto. So he calls her Minto. And then I agreed on calling her that, but I call her Mint, because I hate mint the herb."
"You — haha, wait what? You call her Mint because you hate mint?"
"Yes. I hate mint, both the herb and the cat. She hates me too, clearly." Suguru raises his hand to remind you of how the cat scratched him the night before.
"Such a cute Hello Kitty sticker..." you tease.
"Thank you. Only the manliest men wear Hello Kitty Bandaids."
"How did she scratch you anyways...?"
"Oh, she likes to hang out in the washing machine if Satoru accidentally leaves it open. And when I try take her out of her comfy spot, she scratches me."
You sympathize, "Poor thing."
"What, the cat or me?" Suguru laughs.
"The cat." you lie teasingly.
"Wow! And here I thought you were being sympathetic!" he raises his brows.
You giggle and look at him, eyes finally making contact — ooh no that's bad bad bad, better break it immediately. So the two of you look away like you've both just indulged in a taboo intimacy. His stomach flips.
"Minto has been fed. She gave me cuddles." Satoru comes back into the room, and you admire the feeling he brings with him.
"No scratches?" Suguru asks.
"No, obviously, she loves me more than you." Satoru cheeks.
"Fuck you, haha."
Satoru makes his voice lower and leans to Suguru, "(Did she figure out what I wrote yet?)"
"Y/n did you figure out what he wrote?" Suguru asks.
"I'm trying so hard. What does this part mean...?"
Suguru shakes his head and puts his hands up. "Like I said, I'm not Mr Translator in the mornings."
"But you've had your coffee! Please, just this part..." you beg, and he can't deny that sweet begging. He easily folds for it, just like when Satoru begs for anything.
"Okay, where — this? Uh... Satoru your handwriting isn't usually this neat, is it...? That part means... 'voice'."
"Oh... ohhh!" you suddenly realize, and then the boys swoon over you when you pronounce the characters out loud to yourself.
"Uh... I think I know what it means..." you feel your cheeks warm up from the crown to your jawline.
あなたのこえがすき。 a-na-ta-no-ko-e-ga-su-ki.
"I like your voice, too." you respond to Satoru, and he half-gets it and gives you a thumbs up.
"Thanks."
You look at each other and then promptly look away with shy smiles.
"You two are cute." Suguru comments.
"Ahah... ahah shut up... hey, the sky has cleared up." you point out.
"Ooh... it cleared up 'cuz Satoru walked back into the room."
You awe at what he said.
"?"
"Nothing."
"Hey, Translator — (stop talking about me behind my back!)"
Suguru chuckles, "I wasn't! I was just — never mind. Let's get ready to head out."
And so you head into Satoru's bedroom to get ready, and Suguru heads into his bedroom, and Satoru himself goes into the cramped bathroom. Poor boy. He's really too tall for that archway, he bumped his head again.
彼女に花を買ってあげるべきでしょうか?それともちょっと多すぎますか? Should I buy her flowers? Or is it a bit too much?
(なんてことだ)、なぜこのシャツには穴が開いているのでしょう? (Oh my god), why does this shirt have holes?
The door slides open, he steps out of the bathroom half-dressed, and intends to quickly slip into Suguru's bedroom to borrow a shirt instead of awkwardly knocking on his bedroom door and disturbing you.
But oh, you know what? The cheesiest possible thing happens instead. The universe likes making Satoru's life a little more fun in odd times. So the two of you encounter each other in the hallway; you're fully clothed and he's got just pants and socks on.
He stutters once, swallows awkwardly, and even more awkwardly places his hand on your head as if to say sorry for this inconvenience.
But you laugh in response to the funny situation.
ああ、またあの美しい笑い声。 Ah, that beautiful laugh again.
"Sorry." he mutters, and disappears to go get a shirt from Suguru.
"It's okay." you reply.
The image of your pretty smile is burned in his head.
You can hear him telling Suguru something in the other room, and then you hear Suguru's muffled laugh as a response.
"(Don't laugh! I'm embarrassed! She's seen me shirtless now! No one's seen me shirtless except you!)"
"(You're such a virgin.)"
"(Say that again, I dare you.)"
"(Sorry, I don't understand you. I don't speak virgin, only English and Japanese.)"
You're wondering why Satoru sounds so embarrassed and annoyed, and then he groans down the hallway. It feels like you're their roommate, it's funny.
"Hi."
"Hi."
The two of you encounter each other in the hall again. This time he has a shirt, yes. And this time Suguru is there, too, and he's holding back an amused smile. He fluffs Satoru's hair as a way of embarrassing him more.
So Satoru leaves, and he leaves in such a way that it's super comedic, making you and Suguru laugh. Ooh, what a laugh that boy has; his Addam's apple shifts up and down deliciously.
"Ah... Suguru? I need help with the washing machine..."
"Yes...?"
"...this kid on the plane who sat next to me, he spilled strawberry juice all over my shirt and now it's sticky."
"But at least it smells like strawberries, right?" he jokes. "You can put it in the washing machine, I'll be doing the laundry in a second anyways..." there is a small moment of eye contact shared, then Suguru looks down, and frowns at something he sees, "(SATORU YOU LEFT YOUR SOCK ON THE FLOOR AGAIN!)"
"(Haha, sorry.)" you hear Satoru half-heartedly apologize from the other room.
So Suguru picks up the sock like an annoyed mother and goes to lecture Satoru.
"(You're embarrassing me in front of our guest. For the love of god, don't leave your goofy ass socks on the floor. What if she slips on them?)"
"(You're such a mother, Suguru.)"
You're calmly and casually going to put your juice-stained shirt in the washing machine like Suguru said, but then...
(the boys are talking and there's just this hilariously dramatic scream from the laundry room)
"DID THE CAT SCRATCH YOU?"
"(Did the cat scratch her?)"
"Ow, y-yeah!" you whine.
Suguru's the first one at the crime scene, and he picks up the cat and proceeds to lecture the cat as if it understands Japanese. It licks its lips and nubby nose and has an evil stare. You giggle.
"I'm so sorry... come, uh — (Suguru, we still have Hello Kitty adhesives somewhere, right?)" Satoru instinctually holds your hand that got scratched.
And he holds it so tenderly and caringly that it makes your whole chest quake for him.
彼女の手の傷はとても小さなものですが、それでも私は心臓がチクチクする��を感じました。 Although the wound on her hand was very small, I still felt my heart tingle.
He leads you to his bedroom, picking up some adhesives and antiseptic on the way, and sits with you on the unmade beds. You watch his fingers nimbly peeling the plastic off the adhesive, admiring how swiftly and perfectly he does even the littlest things. He has such a great attention to detail, it makes you self-conscious; is he thinking of you with the same attention to detail as everything else? Yes... he is.
He dabs some antiseptic on your small scratch, and then gently wraps and pats the Hello Kitty adhesive around it. You're pretty sure he's the one who bought them. Oh, if only you could ask him, but where even is your phone? Lost in a void somewhere, probably.
"Thank you, Satoru."
His eyes light up. His heart thumps. Why did those small, simple words have such a great effect on him?
"Mhm." he hums in acknowledgement. "You're welcome."
あなたの傷がもっと良くなるようにキスしたいです。 I want to kiss your wounds to make them better.
A second after thinking this and looking at your hand, he brings it to his lips and presses a very delicate kiss to the edge of your wrist, where the small cut spanned up to the base of your palm. Can you even call it a kiss? It's more like his lips graze your skin, hovering timidly.
And for some reason... the atmosphere becomes very intimate. Is it because of the place where he kissed you? The inner wrist has never occurred to you to be an intimate spot, and yet you're feeling as if he just kissed you on the lips.
You hear him audibly swallow, like he's conscious of this, too. The both of you become very aware of the tension in the atmosphere.
And then he looks apologetic, as if he overstepped a boundary. So you mutter a small, whispery "thanks..." which lifts his heart up into his throat and reassures him that you don't mind the intimacy.
"Mmm..." he blinks at you, pursing his lips.
His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and it feels like he's about to... well you know his body just wants to... he sort of...
"Hey, how's the wounded patient?" Suguru interrupts, and you and Satoru spring apart like you're elastic bands that just got released after being stretched.
"Ahah, I'm okay. It's not a bad scratch." you lift your hand, "I'll cherish this Hello Kitty Bandaid forever, thank you."
"Yeah, Satoru bought 'em so you can thank him."
"I knewww he bought them, haha! So expected... cutiepie." you admire Satoru, and he's pretty sure that the last thing you said is some cute nickname, so he smirks.
"Okay, well... anyways, let's head out before the sun rises too high and it gets too hot to walk."
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© arminsumi
Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.
Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
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bbyhellfire · 14 days
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eddie likes to eats you out with your underwear still on (18+ only)
eddie munson x afab!reader, porn no plot, cunnilingus through underwear, no penetration, eddie has a panty kink, panty sucking idk what to call it
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It’s not the first time he’s done this – eat you out through your panties.
The first time you assumed he didn’t realize it. You didn’t even notice it in the moment, your mind in a cloudy haze after spending the day smoking weed. It wasn't until Eddie was he was notching his cock at your entrance did you register your underwear still on your body.
The second instance you dismissed due to a lack of time. You had ten minutes left of your work break when he dragged you into the back of his van. You barely managed to yank your pants off before Eddie was settled between your legs.
“W–wait, let me get these off–”
“No time. Just lay back for me.”
But now – with sober minds and zero time restraints – you suspect that he actually likes it. 
Not that you mind. It’s unconventional, but so is Eddie. 
Settled between your legs, he pauses at the sight of the underwear covering your pussy. You know he can see how worked up he’s gotten you. Shit, you can feel how wet you are.
His ringed fingers dig into the softness of your thighs to pull you closer to him. He makes zero movements to pull your underwear down, and neither do you. You remain still, attention focused on how he presses his nose into your clothed cunt and inhales.
"Eddie!" You gasp. The rush of air makes your pussy clench, something he can feel with his lips ghosting over your entrance. 
The corners of his eyes crinkle as he glances up at you, “I can feel your pussy pulsing, baby. Drooling, too." You're soaked as if I didn’t fuck you this morning.”
He’s not technically wrong – the gusset is drenched in your arousal; whatever wetness that couldn't be absorbed is now smearing your inner thighs. Eddie is stating facts, but it's the way the he says it that makes goosebumps raise on your arms and chest. His words are so casual, the undertone of mischief barely recognizable, but it sets you on edge. You feel like you’re on a roller coaster waiting for the first drop.
He nuzzles his nose against your clit, making you whimper, “Please, don't tease. I need you.”
“I know, baby. You’re almost as needy as your pussy.”
Not one to waste time, he starts with a soft kiss to your clit before dragging his kisses down to your clothed entrance. It makes you collapse back on the bed, eyes closing as the only thing you can focus on is his mouth.
Maybe you shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are, but the way the wet cotton of your panties gives off a gentle friction as his tongue moves along your folds is damn near perfect.
“'Taste so good,” His hands grip your thighs a little harder as he licks a stripe against you. “Like fucking candy.”
As if to prove a point, he pushes his head forward to eliminate any sliver of space between the two of you. He continues to kiss you, lick you, suck you. Up and down, side to side until you're hiccuping his name.
You're right at the edge of release. The burning ache between your legs is spreading, traveling down your nerves. You manage to peel your eyes open and lift yourself up enough to see see the vision that is Eddie between your legs. His eyes are closed, as if lost in a trance, so consumed with the taste of you on his tongue that his hips are shifting against the mattress. Barely out of your view, you see it. The faint image of his hips shifting, grinding mindless against the mattress.
“Oh, fu–ck! You really like this, Eddie.”
Your words have his eyes snapping opening, pausing his movements to speak a muffled response. His ragged breath fans against your wetness. “‘Course I do. And I think you do, too. ‘Can feel you twitching, baby. You need these off?”
You shake your head no. Absolutely fucking not. The fact that Eddie is grinding against the mattress because he is so turned even with the fabric separating him from your cunt is so...erotic. Powerful even.
“No, just need you.”
“Then come for me and make it messy.”
And you do. Your orgasm crests shortly after he takes his clit between his teeth. Your undoing breaks with a rush of your release spilling out from the edges of your soaked underwear. Heat spiders through your limns, incinerating everything about you until you're left weak and panting.
In the disconnectedness of your orgasm, you start to register your surroundings. The clothes scattered across the room, the smell of sex permeating the small space, and a soft bubbling sound.
Your brows furrow as you listen closely , only to then realize Eddie is still between your legs, his mouth still moving against your cunt. He's still there, mouthing at you.
Your face burns with a new desire, your voice as wrecked as your body as you start, "Wait, are you...oh, fuck you are..."
He hums out a lazy response as he greedily wrings the soaked fabric between his teeth until every last drop of you is in his mouth.
Yeah, Eddie really fucking likes this.
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artinvain · 29 days
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Scissoring with Abby???
it’s so sweet, feeling abby on you
✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧ abby is feverish with your mouth on her neck, so sensitive there she can’t help but whine and grind against you, biting into your shoulder. you kiss up her neck and jaw, sloppy, open mouth kisses as you hook one leg over hers. she intertwines your fingers, holding your hand tight.
“wanna feel you,” she whimpers, and you only go to kiss her again, slowly shoving and pulling your underwear down and guiding her hand down to your wet cunt. abby whines her mouth watering as she feels you — circling your clit until she can taste your moans. and then you’re kissing down her chest and latch on her tits as she moans quietly, cupping your head gently as you suck and nip at her sensitive nipples, you love hearing her gasp and whine out your name. your other hand flicking and twisting gently where your mouth wasn’t. abby’s fingers never stop moving through your wetness, circling your clenching hole and she can’t help but moan loudly at the feelings of it all.
“feels—mmh s’good baby,” she groans and whines when you pull away from her tits to strip her. you lay abby down, the sheets so soft, the bed warm and firm, her head feeling cloudy as she lays it on the pillows. your safe house really was a haven. and you were her heaven. abby watches you in awe as you clamber on top of her, twisting your legs together.
you both sigh heavily, when you wet your fingers in your mouth, abby watching with a gaped mouth as your tongue licks between your fingers. you grind your hand down and rub between her folds. abby’s back arches, “fuck honey, I-“ — her fingers can’t help but do the same to you, rubbing your clit softly and spreading your wetness and your lips until she’s groaning constantly.
you’re both whining and whimpering until abby has to grip your hips and buck up into you. her eyes cross as she feels your throbbing cunt on hers. wet and sticky, you can feel your clits rubbing against each other. the soft stimulation enough to have your hips twitching and abby can’t stop moaning,
“baby, please,” her voice cracking as you grab hold of her leg, and start to buck your hips down into hers. so she can feel the pressure, the full weight of you pressing into her “thank you, fuck thank you sweetheart-ugh,” she’s huffing moans as she grips your hips and matches the movement of your hips, until you’re both whining and twitching.
“shit, I can feel you,” you moan “oh fuck,” and abby huffs, because she can too — she can feel the way you throb and the way your wet cunt clenches on her, “jesus fucking christ,” abby grunts, pulling and pushing your hips so you’re grinding faster, “shit yeah, that’s it! oh my god abby,”
one of your hands reaches down for abby’s breast and starts to tease her nipples, biting your lip at the destroyed look of her, hair falling out of her braid and around her face which is flushed and dewy. her eyes scrunched tight and her mouth agape — “god you feel so good, please I’m gonna cum,” abby mewls. she can’t help but tighten her legs around you, providing the most sinful fucking pressure as you continue to grind your perfect wet cunt against hers, abby starts to shake, her hips jutting up and her hands guiding your movements. “christ jus’ feels so good” she groans, “so good, m’gonna cum baby,” you whine, your hand holding onto her arm as your humping reaches a fever pitch, your breaths ragged and broken as your body’s finally release, you can’t stop riding her through your orgasm and still the wetness makes it so much easier to slide against her and
“oh-oh shit I’m gonna cum again,” abby cries out and you can hardly speak as you jerk “jesus! fucking— oh god!” and immediately you can feel abby squirting on you and it makes you cum, you fall onto abby and she pulls you in close, breathing in your scent and wrapping her arms around you.
tags @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @sapphicsgirl @iamaboringrattat @bimboprincezz
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cryptoseraphim · 2 years
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my betta fish is my love my life my world I will do anything and everything to ensure his happiness I love you frank ocean
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k9wa · 1 month
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𑣲 PREPARED. ft. BLADE
⠀ — he will not be overcome. blade prepared for this day
⠀ OR
⠀ — you’re only human and blade isn’t as ready for your death as he thought.
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⚠︎ angst, some gore (?) character death, gn reader, this is kind of old
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blade prepared for this day.
he reminded himself of all whom he’d seen fall in his years of existence with every breath he took.
blade prepared for this day.
the stellaron hunter had become well acquainted with his own immortality and the grief that without fail would follow him for all eternity.
blade prepared for this day.
he knew it was best to keep his distance from others, especially from humans. friendships or relationships of any kind were feeble and short-lived for a man like him. if you could even call him a man.
blade prepared for this day.
…so why was he speechless?
why had his breath betrayed him?
why did his legs grow weak, how was he brought to his knees with such ease, skin scraping harshly against the concrete beneath him?
blade prepared for this day… hadn’t he?
well, perhaps he’s slipped up a few times. but he was allowed that much, no?
maybe he shouldn’t have indulged you in so many stories of his travels, or the kinds of people he’d met along the way. but it was only because you were always so eager to hear about them, and the dejected look on your face when he’d say no was irritating.
and sure, he probably could have done without the gentle touches and almost domestic intimacy, but that couldn’t have done too big of a number on him. the emotions blade felt ranged from numb to violent, and had not stretched farther than the between for the last hundred years at least. a kiss to your cheek or your arms wrapped around him from behind couldn’t have really changed that.
no. it couldn’t have.
because blade prepared for this day.
he repeats it in his head like a mantra as he cradles you to his chest, your blood staining his bandaged and scarred hands as it drips to the stone floor. there's a sea of bodies surrounding you, a sign of blade’s inevitable victory alongside your inevitable demise.
all blade could do was watch as the spear pierced through your flesh and bones like they were butter, time almost slowing down as he bolted to your side as fast as he could once he noticed the pointed steel hurling towards you.
he was too late, only arriving in time to catch you as your knees buckled before you could tumble to the ground.
it was clean shot through your heart and left lung, tip of the spear poking out of your chest and staring him menacingly in the eye.
blade prepared for this day.
he knew you would not survive.
humans were fragile. a piercing shot through some vital organs was more than enough to take your life.
he pulled it out as quickly as he realised the tragic truth, hoping to make you more comfortable. he whispers small, rushed apologies into your ear as you cry out from the steel ripping through you again, this time the opposite way.
ren fought to keep his hands steady as he held you tightly against him. he would not panic in your final hours, he would not be an addition to the turmoil of your unfair death.
blade prepared for this day.
he sucks down the urge to scream out and curse the aeons for doing this to him again. he swallows the desire to pierce himself with the very weapon that would take you from him as punishment to himself for thinking this time will be different.
a calloused hand is held to your cheek as your body clings to its life, small choked gasps leaving your lips as if your lungs could even hold the air.
ren rests his forehead against yours, swirls of tangerine and crimson and pale skin shining through your cloudy vision. your efforts to speak are in vain, he just shushes you quietly.
“just look at me.” his voice is quiet, eerily calm and surprisingly comforting.
his thumb rubs small circles on your cheek, he can feel the puddle of blood on his pants growing. you comply, gazing up into his hardened eyes as you swear you see grief shining behind them. perhaps it's just the blood loss.
“you’re okay.” ren’s voice is like silk, despite its natural rasp. he tries to will himself to crack the slightest of smiles for your comfort. he cannot.
blade prepared for this day.
your hand shakily raised up to try and hold his, and all you can do is weakly grab onto his wrist. yet you’re smiling. you turn your head slightly to the left and kiss his palm, and blade does not see fear nor anguish in your eyes. he sees a sea of peace, two lakes of adoration staring back at him.
“you’re okay.” he repeats, lips meeting your forehead softly. “i’ve got you.”
it proves harder and harder to keep his hands steady as your eyes grow heavier, fluttering shut. he pulls you closer to him, squeezing his own eyes shut as if just seeing your face was pushing him over the edge.
blade prepared for this day.
he can feel your breaths shortening, becoming more shallow. he sucks in a breath.
blade prepared for this day.
“i’ll find you.” he wouldn’t. the place your mind and soul would travel to was the only place in the galaxy he traversed across that he could not reach despite his endless and verying attempts. whether the empty pledge is a futile attempt at a comfort to you or him will remain unknown.
blade prepared for this day.
whether the words reached you or not also remains up in the air. ren watches as your chest stops attempting to rise. if you were anyone else, he would be jealous.
blade thought he prepared for this day.
but realistically, nothing could ever truly prepare him again and again for the feeling he knew all too well; loss.
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⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?
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incendiobrock · 1 month
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Sleep Paralysis {Chris Sturniolo}
Summary: Chris struggles with bad nightmares and sleep paralysis, his girlfriend (reader) is there one night to calm him down after a bad dream. ⭐️Inspired by episode 19 of their podcast where Chris talks about his struggles with sleep paralysis and nightmares!!⭐️
Warnings: guns, mentions of death, sleep paralysis (nothing too descriptive!!)
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The cabin was quiet, only the noise of the crickets chirping outside were heard through the walls. It was pitch black out, barely any stars shining through the cloudy sky. Chris walked through the halls in search of you. He poked his head inside the bedroom, the door creaking as it slowly opened into the vacant room.
Chris felt his heart pound against his chest as he realized that another room had been checked and you were still gone. Where the hell could you be this late at night? Chris thought about texting his brothers, maybe this one on one vacation wasn’t a good idea.
As Chris stood in the hall, right in front of the slight ajar bedroom door, a faint banging noise sounded from somewhere across the dimly lit cabin.
“Y/n? Is that you?” Chris called out, his eyes scavenging his surroundings. Slowly, he began walking towards the back of the cabin. The pounding of his heart was leaving him breathless as he struggled to retain any air. He stopped in his tracks when a low rumble of thunder caused the floors to shake.
“Fuck.” Chris mumbled under his breath, the power cutting out and leaving him in complete darkness, not that there was much light in this place to begin with. His hand dug into his pant pocket, fishing out his phone and bringing it up in front of him so he could use the flashlight. After a shaky breath, he made his way down into the basement determined to find the breaker.
The basement was cold and eerie, even more so than the rest of the building. The stairs squeaked on every step, the walls were stone and bare, and there were spiderwebs in every corner. Nobody in their right mind would ever go to the basement but Chris had to turn the lights back on so he could continue his search for you. You were more important to him than whatever could be lurking in the darkness of the basement.
Chris eventually found the breaker box which was tucked in the back corner of the foreboding basement, his hand was shaking violently with nerves as he tried to keep his phone flashlight still. He flipped the switch, the generator rumbled but the lights remained off. “Come on stupid thing, work will ya?” Chris cussed under his breath, flipping the switch again and again. Darkness still consumed the boy and his worries were becoming worse.
Chris slammed the breaker box closed with a grunt, shakily making his way back up the stairs to the main level of the cabin. When he found his way back into the living room he glanced out the window, looking down the long driveway to the house. His eyes squinted as he stepped closer to the glass, bringing his hand up to block any glare and get a closer look outside.
In the middle of the driveway you stood frozen in fear, a taller man, dressed in all black, with a mask over his face, held you tightly in front of his chest. A gun was pressed firmly to your temple. Chris immediately felt tears slide down his cheeks as his brain raced trying to think of what he could do to save you.
Without much thought, Chris was speeding towards the front door, throwing it open and making his way to the driveway. "Chris! Please help me!" Your voice shrieked, filling his ears with the unnerving sound of your quivering voice. He wanted to respond back, let you know that he was there and that everything was alright, but his mouth failed him. No matter how much he wanted to speak, he couldn't get out any words.
Chris continued to come towards you and the mysterious man, ready to push him off of you and hold you close in his arms. He wasn't ready to lose you. He had almost reached you when all of a sudden a loud boom echoed through the desolate forrest, your body falling to the ground in an instant.
"No!" Chris' body shot up in bed, his hand coming up over his chest as he heaved in some air. In an instant, you were awake beside him, startled by his scream and abrupt movements.
"Chris, baby- What happened?" You asked urgently, wrapping the boy in a hug and holding him tight as he clung onto you like a koala. His breathing was sporadic and you could feel his tears soak through your shirt as he nuzzled his head into your chest.
"He had you. There was a g-gun, you fell to the ground... Oh my God, I th-thought I had l-lost you." Chris said between sobs. Your heart tore listening to him cry. Since you had been together, you quickly learned that Chris had horrible, vivid, nightmares as well as sleep paralysis. He had told you numerous dreams that involved his closest friends and family dying.
"Shh baby, I'm right here. It was just a dream, I promise." You whispered, rubbing his back and trying to get him to calm his breathing. As you rubbed comforting circles on his back he began to relax, "Am I awake?" He whispered, looking up at you as you both sat in the bed. "You're awake, I'm okay." You replied, giving him a soft, reassuring smile. One of your hands reached up to wipe away some of his tears, showing him that you were really there.
Chris moved to lay back down, facing the bedroom wall. You laid back down too, beginning to spoon Chris. His long, wavy locks fell across his face before you started to run your fingers through it slowly, moving it out of the way. "Go back to sleep Chris. I'm not going anywhere, I love you."
"I love you more..." He said barely above a whisper, sleep taking over his body once again.
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reminiscingtonight · 2 months
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Pretending (Pt. 2)
Aitana Bonmatí x Reader
Word Count: 986
Part One
[WOSO Masterlist]
“Do you want to get married?”
You’re soaking in the sun, a welcome change from the cloudy skies of Manchester when Aitana pops the question.
You crack open an eye. “Are you talking to me?”
“Who else would I be talking to?”
She says it with the most serious face that you start questioning if you’re the crazy one here.
“Are you asking me what my thoughts are about marriage in general or marriage between us?”
Aitana doesn’t have to say anything, she only gives you a look. 
You sigh, propping yourself up on an arm so you can face Aitana when having this conversation. “We’re not even dating.”
Aitana shrugs. “If it matters that much to you we can give it a day.”
It’s such a ridiculous proposition that you can’t do anything but laugh. “So what? We can tell our children we dated for a day before we got married?”
This time she grins, finger drifting to hook around your own. “Time doesn’t matter. We both know whatever this is, whatever we are, it’s been going on far longer than a day.”
You’ve been back in Barcelona for close to a year now. The two of you picked up right where you left off, spending almost all of your waking moments with one another. Even when night comes round, it’s rare to find you sleeping apart. 
Ona calls you both codependent idiots, Ingrid calls it something sweet, all you know is that it works for the two of you and although you’re not dating, it’s a life you can find yourself getting used to.
When the break came around and Ona announced she was going somewhere tropical with Lucy, Aitana was quick to make some plans for just the two of you. 
You didn’t question it much, happy to just spend time with the girl you’ve been pining after for years. 
At first everything was normal. Sure, Aitana’s been a bit more sentimental than usual, opting to reminisce about your childhood adventures or bring up the unofficial first dates of yours from all those years ago. But you don’t think too much about it, choosing instead to focus on not ogling all of the skin on display as Aitana’s primary activity these past couple days have consisted of nothing but sunbathing.
It’s not like you haven’t caught Aitana eyeing you up and down a couple of times too, but it’s different between the two of you. You’re still patiently waiting for Aitana to drop the pretense that you’re anything more than just friends, hence the respect you’ve been giving (though if she continues wearing two-pieces and hanging off your arm all day every day you might have to catch an early flight home before you combust). Aitana on the other hand… well you’re not really sure what she’s doing.
Though you can probably conclude that she’s not pretending anything anymore if she’s asking for your hand in marriage.
“I love you.”
Though her words fill you with warmth, you can’t help but frown at her sudden change in demeanor. Just three days ago when you were still surrounded by your teammates in Barcelona, Aitana cracked a joke about loving you when hell froze over --- though you probably deserved that comment after you let Mapi convince you to dunk her socks in the ice bucket. Although she’s affectionate with you, she’s never this affectionate.
“Aita, what’s going on?” you sit up, taking care to scoop Aitana’s hand into yours.
The smile slips off her face as her eyes drop, fingers nervously tapping by her side.
It’s automatic, the way your free hand rises, rubbing at the furrow between her brows.
Aitana melts into your touch, face leaning forward until your hand has no choice but to cup her cheek.
“It’s just me. Nothing to be afraid of,” you murmur, trying to prompt Aitana to speak her mind.
Aitana looks lost in thought for a moment. She bites at her lip before letting out the longest sigh known to man. “Aren’t you ever going to get tired waiting for me?”
You’re not able to stop the laugh that bubbles past your lips. “If that’s what you’re afraid of, you have nothing to worry about. I’m in this for the long run, even if that means waiting for you until we’re gray and old. I’m happy with what we are right now as long as you’re happy too.”
“But what if I’m ready now?” 
You blink, not expecting the sureness behind her voice. There’s a slight fire in Aitana’s eyes, the midfielder looking like she’d move mountains just for you to understand how serious she is. 
“I know I’ve always put football first but you have always been the one thing I’ve wanted to commit to. You’ve been so patient with me, loving me when I never gave you a reason to. You bring me up when I’m sad, give me reasons to smile when I just want to cry, you’re what I love falling asleep to every night, and seeing your face when I wake up just fills me up with joy.”
Your eyes flutter shut when she leans forward to press her head against yours. You can feel her breath running hot against your lips and it takes everything in you to not bridge the gap. 
“I love the way you know me and I love the way you’re you.”
When your lips finally meet there’s no other way to describe the kiss than perfect. It’s short and sweet but it’s everything you’ve been waiting for. 
“I love you. So much.”
Aitana’s giving you a teary grin when you open your eyes, and you can’t do anything but smile right back at her. 
“So will you marry me?”
---
Ona’s eyes nearly fall out of her head when she sees the matching bands on your fingers when you stroll into the locker room a week later.
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cloudtastrophie · 2 months
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boat boys but they r tragic and knights fighting against each other in a war,,,both being crushed by the weight of their legacies,,,,,save me knight boat boys
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greyskyflowers · 9 months
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Zoro being just a little desperate for soft affection because people don't touch him gently. He's not something people handle with care or touch with careful intentions.
He's a swordsman
The first mate of the future pirate king and a god
A strawhat pirate
He doesn't mind it, because you can't miss something you don't really know, but sometimes he gets hints of it. Like Chopper taking care of his injuries or Robin's hands brushing against him as she hands him something. The others don't touch gently. They're pirates, liars, thieves and fighters.
It's hard to be gentle on the sea.
Luffy's too strong for his own good
Sanji's alway eager to pick a fight
Nami's not very familiar with gentleness herself
Usopp's too unsure
Franky doesn't trust himself
Brook doesn't think he's capable of it anymore
Zoro deserves gentle sometimes though, when he's more white bandages than tan skin or when he smells like blood rather than salt.
Sometimes he looks very breakable for how unbreakable he is.
There are times he looks soft, only with them.
When he lets himself wake up slowly, silver eye still cloudy with sleep and everything about him sleep ruffled and soft.
Or when he speaks with Chopper, letting his body loosen from a stricter hold and creating a welcoming atmosphere that always has Chopper climbing into his lap or dancing happily.
Always when he takes care of his swords, each movement done without too much thought after years of repetition. A critical eye looking them over before moving to the next, handled with a care that looks like it should be unnatural to a man like Zoro.
He goes sweet for them.
Looking as surprised as they do when he surges towards the gentle affection like he can't stop himself.
💙
Luffy throwing his arm around Zoro's shoulders, and touching, thoughtless and confident because he knows Zoro won't pull away. His fingers playing with earrings, petting at soft hair and brushing against skin.
Zoro can't help the little, protesting noise that slips out when it stops.
Luffy looks at him with a blank expression and observing eyes, the face he wears when he's serious about something. He returns his hand to the side of Zoro's neck and it's so careful, fingers caressing against his neck in little brushes and it has him melting.
Luffy's incredibly pleased because Zoro is such a warm, happy weight against his side, all loose limbed and practically purring.
He looks vulnerable and sleepy in a way that has a bubble of something growing in Luffy's chest. It threatens to choke him, his throat tight with it and his heart beating weird. He just keeps petting with confident but gentle touches.
Zoro buries his face in his shoulder and it knocks the wind out of his lungs. He wants to move, energy popping under his skin in happiness but he stays still. The arms he wraps around Zoro to drag him closer, half on his lap and still not close enough, are gentle.
💙
Sanji trying to figure out the best way to get Zoro back to the crew after a battle. Hovering because everywhere looks bruised and bloody, seriously it's like he tries to get cut up during his fights.
Finally getting him up enough that he can climb on Sanji's back and they'll try that way.
Zoro's lighter than he looks, they all know that but it's always a little surprising. He's quick on his feet, has used half the crew as spring boards for a push off in fights and he definitely wouldn't be able to do that so easily if he weighed what he looks.
He's a warm weight against Sanji's back and the cook can feel his thighs from where he's got his hands placed for support, they have a healthy layer of fat covering the muscle.
He's embarrassed by the pleased feeling he gets from that. The idea that Zoro is healthy and taken care of because of him is powerful. He's very proud of how the crew looks healthy and strong, nothing about them that suggests hunger or poor nutrition.
He brushes his thumb back and forth in a gentle way, briefly wishing he felt skin instead of fabric, before very quickly shoving that thought into a little box and placing it all the way to the back of his mind.
Zoro relaxes into him, body pressing heavier as he stops tensing up and his chin digging into Sanji's shoulder. He looks exhausted but his breathing has calmed and he almost looks like he could fall asleep.
Sanji just tugs him more securely against his back, desperately ignoring the way Zoro's legs tightens around his waist at the movement and how his chest pressing against Sanji's back has his nose itching. Zoro relaxes again and Sanji goes back to rubbing his thumbs back and forth, gentle and comforting.
💙
100% based on the ideas that:
Luffy just casually touches, hugs, climbs on, etc the crew whenever he wants because they're his.
Sanji is very proud that the crew looks healthy and strong, knowing it's because he's the one making their food.
Zoro being a strange type of touch starved that has him unconsciously giving off cat vibes of please pet me and I'm sorry if I get overwhelmed and bite.
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wandascrush · 2 months
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Let the light in
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Summary: The Avengers are separated after being hunted down and forced to live life on the low, causing a painful break up with the love of your life. What happens when she finds you again? Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!reader
A/N: Based off of this request
Warnings: Angst, violence, loneliness, blood, breakup, team separated, depression, kissing, comfort
Song: Let the light in- Lana Del Rey
The team sat around the dark living room, the familiar voice of one of New York's most famous news anchors echoing in through the air, “Good evening New Yorkers, today we open our headline with some shocking news:  Former Stark enterprise building, located on the upper east side, exploded earlier today by a missile attack on the Avengers. Sources say Tony Stark was currently using it to house new plans for an updated Avengers training arena and larger compound.  Two architects, three investors, and one security manager was injured. Two of the victims later succumbed to their injuries after the explosion. Reports confirming the source of the violence are still unknown, however the Avengers were believed to have been inside the building at the time- hence the attack. The founding members of the Avengers Initiative such as Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Thor Odinson, Y/N L/N, and Clint Barton have yet to speak out. This marks the second targeted attack on our world’s heroes in nearly a month since the Maximoff twins incident in Barbados, where Pietro Maximoff was nearly assassinated. It raises the question for us all: Are our heroes being hunted?” 
The screen went black, bye bye news lady. The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “What’re we gonna do Tony?” You got no answer. 
 “Cap?”  
For the first time in the decade you’d known the team, (except for the Maximoffs & Peter) you saw uncertainty in all of their eyes. Tony threw his classic sunglasses on the couch, squeezing the middle of his nose in a useless attempt to massage an oncoming headache away, “Fury… thought it’d be wise if we split up for awhile-,” he was quickly shut up with protests from the group.
“It’s too dangerous. This isn't easy for me, but we're facing a threat that's beyond anything we've encountered before. I've crunched the numbers, run simulations – the Avengers need to disband temporarily. We scatter, go off the grid, and regroup when the dust settles.”
“This is bullshit, Tony. You know it is. This is exactly what they want-” 
“Tasha,” your gentle touch on her back always softened her heart, but not today. She didn’t even look at you. 
“It’s not the end, Nat. It’s like a strategic retreat. We're ensuring we'll live to fight another day. For once, I’m with Stark on this. We play it safe, keep low profiles, and spread out,” Steve sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees and taking a hard look at everyone, “we’re family, we keep each other safe. And this is how we do it.” 
As much as the idea made your stomach churn, he was right. He always was. This was your family. Every holiday, happy memory, laugh and cry and battle and bruise was all with them. This team is how you met the love of your life. You loved each other, and if this is what needed to happen, then you’d do it. 
But that didn’t sit well with your girlfriend. 
“No, end of story. We’re not separating.”
“You know I don’t think it’s just you’re choice, Natasha. I mean we have to decide this together,” your fingers lightly brushed the edge of the bed, nervously playing with the soft sheets you had just bought.
“Exactly, and I. Said. No.” She was acting like a stubborn toddler that didn’t want to eat her veggies, crossing her arms and raising her voice an octave.
It was then when you saw something different in her eyes, those beautiful green orbs that held so much sadness and joy at the same time. But today they were cloudy, like a storm was brewing in her mind. You gently slipped off of the bed and stood in front of her, pressing your forehead to hers, “You know it’s going to be okay, right?” soft palms caressed the side of her cheek, immediately feeling her sigh into your touch. “It’s going to be okay, you’ll see.” You wish your words were true. 
    Two months later the Avengers were spreading out all across the U.S., saying choked up goodbyes and packing your things. It was agreed upon that there’d be a team meeting once a month, every month, for the next year until you could figure out who the threat was, and how to eliminate them. You thought San Francisco sounded nice, fresh, and a little more peaceful than the hustle and bustle of New York. And it was, for a time. You got a haircut, dyed your gorgeous h/c locks to a rich h/c shade. You bought a sweet little home with a bay window over looking the Golden Gate Bridge, started building an in home gym and library, and kept an extremely low profile. You finished file work and other Avengers paperwork at home, with a high security grade laptop. Natasha on the other hand, refused to dye her hair, or keep a low profile. She didn’t want to admit that she was depressed, but it was glaringly oblivious. Being thrown out of her comforting routine put a wrench in Natasha’s life that not even you, her beautiful girl, could fix. All day she would do her paperwork, workout, and just keep to herself. It was like you weren’t even girlfriends anymore. Finally, in the fifth month of living “undercover,” she finally agreed to go on a low key date with you to a small, cozy bar on the outskirts of the city. You got dressed up for the first time in what felt like forever, did your makeup real pretty, and even did braids on Natasha’s silky hair. She looked happy, finally. Adorning a brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and a low cut green top- her classic silver arrow necklace sitting pretty on her chest- your girlfriend looked like her old self again...absolutely perfect. 
“You look gorgeous, baby,” swift arms swept you into a gentle kiss, smirking against your lips and pulling you close to her waist. 
You thought that night would be perfect, but by 11 pm you two were home and icing her bloody knuckles, static tv voices echoing in the background. You felt hot tears rising to the surface, but you never let them fall. It’s not like you were just mad or angry or disappointed…no this was something more. You were embarrassed. Embarrassed by Natasha. You thought you’d never say that sentence, but then there you were, apologizing to the bartender for your girlfriend's rowdy behavior, and throwing $20 to the guy she completely knocked out before nearly carrying her out of the bar and into a cab. Within the next two weeks she packed her bags, and your home was changing once again, now empty. 
  8 months later 
    The team said that you’d only be separated for a year, or less, but you were coming up on a year pretty soon and none of you were any closer to figuring out who the threat is. But you, you moved on, strived forward, and kept going. Your breakup with Nat had been one of the most painful moments of your life, but you didn’t let it stop you. These days you hardly cried over her at all, never even thought of the old days. Well, except for last Tuesday, when you saw one of her old sweaters and lied in bed for the rest of the day, or on Thursday when you heard her favorite song and- well, never mind that. You were at the top of your fucking game. 
  Ms. Romanoff, on the other hand, had moved out of San Francisco completely and settled in Washington D.C. from the last you heard. She attended the monthly zooms, same as you, but you two never addressed one another. Natasha pushed all of the heartbreak she harbored deep, deep down until she would lie down for bed and reach out next to her…but you were never there. 
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jawllines · 5 months
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So on a Tuesday, Y/N wakes up from a fitful rest and leaves Harry’s bed to find him in the kitchen. Leaf is cradled to his chest while he speaks to someone on the phone – a designer, she thinks, they’re talking about a pattern of something, but Y/N isn’t sure. She doesn’t get to know either because as soon as Harry sees that she’s awake, he smiles, then hovers his finger over the end button, “Mael, I’ll call you a little later, yeah?” He hangs up without a second thought, and Y/N’s eyes go wide. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand. 
“Nah, s’boring shit anyway. Chevron is a thing of the fucking past and it’s not coming back any time soon on my watch.” He turned on his stool, stretching out his legs and waving her forward, and when she got close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs, “You take forever to get up. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were still a human.” 
or
Harry and Y/N like being around each other maybe too much
part 1
part 2
part 3
iv.
Y/N wondered how many vampires she’d seen in her lifetime. 
Unlike the stories and movies, they didn’t lurk in the night and meld into the shadows all of the time. Their skin was pale, but no more pale than someone living in the mountains with very little sun. Their eyes weren’t red, or golden brown, or pools of black – they were just normal irises, no different than humans, the color encrypted in their DNA from conception. They were gorgeous, sometimes eerily so, but not in a way that you could easily group them by their features. It was comparable to being backstage on a runway – the people surrounding you were models, you knew that, and they were all beautiful in their own way with their own unique features. The difference is that instead of only finding them pretty in passing, it’s mesmerizing, almost hard to fathom, alluring in an almost unignorable way. 
But Y/N can’t remember ever being out in public and seeing a vampire, even if she didn’t know what they were called at the time. Clearly she didn’t, if one was able to ask her on a date and she’d just presumed she’d lucked out with an attractive man who didn’t mind dating below his league. Otherwise, they were masters of camouflage, or Y/N was just less observant than she thought. 
Because right now, even to the untrained eye, Y/N is almost positive that she looks like a vampire. Or at least that something is off with her. It’s in the way her posture is almost too correct, ramrod straight like someone straightened out her back and put her in a brace to keep her unmoving. Her chest did not rise and fall with each breath – not because the need to use her lungs had not been completely eradicated yet, but for the fact she’s taking a ton of shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid smelling anything, or anyone.  The way she holds her fork looks weird to her – she hadn’t held a fork in so long it was an unfamiliar weight between her fingers. She gave terse replies to questions, and could barely hold a conversation longer than small talk. 
To anyone looking or interacting with her, they must think she’d grown up in a basement and just recently ventured out into the world. To Harry, who sits across from her with an amused look dancing across his features, he knew she was just attempting to reacclimate into society. 
They had been out before, but normally that was at night, or early during cloudy weekdays when most of the city population is stuck in their stuffy office buildings. When the amount of humans is sparse and Y/N could amble away if being around them became too much. She’d never been forced to sit among them for longer than a couple minutes at a time, maybe waiting in a long line, or patiently off to the side when a human woman was interested in the same earrings that she was. 
That had been her toeing the water; Harry held her hand at the edge of a dock while she dipped her feet into the pool of being a productive member of society again. She would have to return to work at some point, and she would need to be able to attend social events or see her family, or her friends back home without wanting to eat them. Harry was surrounded by humans all day nearly every day and he hasn’t lashed out and ended up in a tabloid for sinking his teeth into a designer. It was possible, though it would take time, and a lot of practice – at some point she would be able to integrate seamlessly back into the human world. 
At some point – right now, it was fucking hard. 
Harry took her out for lunch, at a small deli a couple blocks from his flat. It was a day when the sky was heavy with clouds and would be for the majority of the afternoon, so they were able to venture out with no fear that Y/N would get all rashy again. All of Y/N’s fear lay within being in closed quarters with humans and pretending that the scent of their blood doesn’t affect her in the slightest. Or that the leaves of the salad she was stuffing into her mouth tasted more than just bland, rubbery nothing to a palate now keen on something metallic and sweet. And in that fear, and her overexerting her effort trying to look normal, she thinks she’s making herself look uncanny, unapproachable, and too much like she doesn’t belong. Like someone clipped her out of a comic book and pasted her in The Very Hungry Caterpillar. 
“Relax your shoulders,” Harry spoke from across the table, having already eaten half his sandwich, tucking the straw of his soda at the corner of his lips and sipping, “It looks like I just brought you out of a boarding school.” 
“Shut up.” Y/N had been saying that a lot to him today because it was two simple words that didn’t require as much effort as trying not to eat someone. 
Harry smiled, all too relaxed for what Y/N would think are pretty serious circumstances but she guesses he’s been through this so often he isn’t worried about a thing. Harry never seemed worried when they did something new, always promising her that he would know if she was going to do something stupid, because he knows her. And if the need to subdue her were to arise, then he could do so easily, or so he tells her every time she’s stressed about it. 
“You had plenty to eat before we came,” he murmured, voice just a touch lower, his brows raising slightly, “Even if you take a small little breath through your nose, you won’t feel like you need to do anything.” 
It’s difficult to talk inconspicuously about it, in case someone nosy was listening into their conversation (because Y/N is fucking nosy, so she knows someone else is bound to match her), but Harry does it easily. Y/N did eat a considerable amount before they did this, from the baggies, and even a little treat from Harry just before they’d left the flat. She was full, blood-drunk, and hazy up to the point that they were about to walk inside the shop and she’d worked herself up. 
“Mind over matter,” Harry slid his leg to her and locked their ankles together – he was resting his chin and cheek in his palm, watching her carefully, drinking her in, “Just take a small little breath through your nose, hm? You’ll see it’s not as bad as you think.” 
Y/N blinks at him, gripping her fork a little too hard, and she feels the stainless steel give beneath her grip, “I – okay,” she nodded, slow, steady – the whole point of this excursion was to start working on being able to smell humans without wanting to desperately sink her teeth into them. Before she could start utilizing feeders, she needed to be completely in control of how her body responds and reacts to stimuli like this. At least that’s what Harry tells her, and she’s inclined to believe him since there isn’t anyone to bounce off of his ideas anymore. She isn’t sure if they’re still on the pathway he used for all the new vampires he mentored or if he’d toggled it based on their situation. She could message Christopher and Naomi about it but every time she messages them, her heart yearns and aches in her chest.
“You’ll stop me if anything happens?” She knows he will, but she feels better when he’s all cocky and sure of himself. One of them needed complete faith in the situation, and it usually was Harry. 
Harry, who had been treating her all soft and tender lately. His words could still be harsh and he rolls his eyes and rumples his lips at her when she says something he thinks is stupid, and he’s patient, but even that patience runs out relatively quickly – but every interaction has a much softer edge to it. With every harsh critique of her technique or skill, (“How many times are you going to listen to the neighbor’s conversation and not me outside, downstairs, when you’re on the balcony? It shouldn’t matter how many flights up you are, this is baby stuff we’re trying to accomplish now!”) there is a gentle caress of her skin. His fingers will dance along her wrist, and he’ll slide his fingers between the slots of hers, and squeeze, before murmuring, “Let’s try again.” 
They are much closer now – Y/N doesn’t know if they’re dating, or if vampires even date, but she knows that Harry treats her like they might be. Harry pushes his nose into her neck and breathes in deeply like she’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. He entertains her musings about code and work despite not having a clue what she’s talking about or saying. At the end of the night (early in the morning) when she is thinking about lying down, Harry offers his room to her, his bed. 
“You can always sleep in here,” he’d told her, “Even if I’m not here, yeah? Just don’t stain the sheets or anything, because to keep them this pristine even with a kitten has been hell.” 
Shit, he’s even referred to Leaf as their baby a couple of times, whereas previously he’s only called her his own. “What are you doing to my baby?” Is what he would say before when Leaf is playing with one of the many feathered string toys that Harry bought her and Y/N accidentally makes her jump right into the wall. Now it’s things like, “Our baby is so happy,” when she comes up to them on the sofa, purring and kneading at Y/N’s thighs before snuggling in her lap and falling asleep. 
Things with him were soft. This certainly felt like a relationship, sometimes, but Y/N knew better than to get ahead of herself. Last time she did that she ran away from her hometown and then got bitten by a fucking vampire, so it was better to just take things a step at a time. 
“What, you think I’m g’na let you eat someone and make me look bad?” He speaks low enough that only she could hear, helped by the loud chatter of voices around them, and stretches one arm across the table, looping his fingers around her forearm, and dragging the blunt tip of his nail along her skin, “Of course I’ll stop you, dummy.” 
Y/N shivers but feels safe; he’s got a leg wrapped around hers, and a hand on her. If she tried to move, he would stop her immediately. Harry doesn’t say aloud that that’s what he’s doing, but they both know it makes her feel better when he’s got his hands on her in some way. She’d told him as much in the past when she’d looped her arm in the gap between his and his body when they first went into the grocery store. 
“Hm, is this a ploy to make me touch you in public? You’re a filthy exhibitionist.” He’d teased her at the time, but now he keeps his hand on her when they’re out. An arm wrapped around her shoulder, a hand at the nape of her neck, his fingers looped around her wrist. 
She lets herself breathe in, just a little bit, a tiny inhale through her nose. The scents weren’t overwhelming like she’d thought – there’s plenty to sift through, it wasn’t just an onslaught of the blood pumping through the veins surrounding them. Fresh bread, the fabric softener on people’s clothes, the cleaner used to wipe down tables when they were emptied – she smelled all of that too. All a mix, like when she was a human, only she could smell and separate them just a note better than she could before. And the blood – she couldn’t smell blood before, but with a belly full, it wasn’t as hard. It still made her mouth water, and there was an itch beneath her skin that wanted to be plucked at, but nothing she couldn’t handle. 
Harry drags his nails back and forth on her forearm lazily, “See?” His relaxed posture stays, leaning on his palm, “You’re not a monster, are you, baby?” 
She swallowed thickly, shaking her head, “No, I’m not,” she cleared her throat a little, “We need to –  um – we need to get Leaf chicken treats, she likes those best.” Y/N wanted to practice being normal, talking about normal things, and thinking about something else than how she’s trying not to breathe in too deeply. She didn’t necessarily explain this to Harry beforehand but he doesn’t seem confused either, just goes along with it. 
“Really? I kind of thought she liked the shrimp ones better.” 
Y/N focuses more on Harry’s scent – he smells good. He always smells so good, that whenever she does sleep in his bed, she dips her nose into the blankets and stuffs her face into the pillows (obviously when he’s not there, she would never live that down).  If she could shove her nose in the base of his throat and not stuff her teeth into his neck then she would do it all of the time. Harry does it to her, unprovoked and unannounced, burrowing the cold tip of his nose against her carotid. She used to squirm, her ear meeting her shoulder as she pulled away from him, but now she’s gotten used to it – now, she almost expects it when he comes home from work, and if he doesn’t, she’s a little disappointed. 
It’s easy to forget why she’s at Harry’s in the first place if she’s just focusing on her and Harry’s dynamic. It’s also easy to forget that she would eventually face the music when she has to confront her feelings – Niall. There was a heavy weight on her shoulders like she wore a helmet of cast iron everywhere she went; sometimes she would forget about it, it’d been so long that it was easy to let it slip her mind, but then her shoulders would feel the pressure of it periodically. 
Like when you wear glasses for the first time. At first, it is all you can think about, how it rests on the bridge of your nose, the way the frames outline your field of view. But a couple of hours in they’re merely an extension of you, you forget they’re on your face until you reach up to rub your eye and something is in the way. 
The helmet was heavy, the look in Niall’s eyes as he told her, the cold feeling that had flushed through her veins when he’d admitted it. She wondered if it felt like his own helmet had been lifted, the weight of his guilt eased by the admission. Did he know he was going to transfer it to her? Take the helmet off and plop it onto her head? 
Her heart was torn in two. Y/N wanted to hate him for it, she really did – want to cuss him out, scratch him, and spit on him – how did vampires fight? Did they bite each other? Do they punch each other? Kick, slap? Was it still below the belt to kick him in the balls or was that an appropriate fighting tactic? Harry had never taught her how to fight – she thought maybe some sort of combat training would be important down the line, but vampires don’t usually do that. Movies and books make it seem like it was a constant battle, always something going on that they needed to defeat. Vampires typically coexist peacefully, is the thing, and their only true threat are hunters but it’s often better to avoid them or flee the situation than to fight, at least when you’re new. As long as she doesn’t act recklessly then she wouldn’t have to worry. 
And in the same breath that she hated him, she owed him her life. It was a new one – a flawed one, no more flawed than her old life, but still a new life. She would have to change how she lives, eats, exists, and it’s scary – it’s so scary! But she was alive. She was still walking around, she could still work toward goals she’d set for herself, and she could find a place for herself in this world instead of bleeding out in an alley, still feeling lost and alone. 
Would she have walked away from someone in need how she expected Niall to? If she’d stumbled upon the same scene, would she have been able to ignore it? She couldn’t even ignore a fucking kitten meowing! So it was hard – her feelings were difficult to work through and that was only worsened by her not seeing him. Playing house at Harry’s flat and ignoring what happened. 
“Where’d you go?” Harry pulls her out of her reverie, and she realizes she’d been digging her fingers into the croissant she was holding, her eyes dazed. He drags his fingers along her skin again, tenderly, gently, “Hmm? Where’d my girl go?” 
Y/N feels warm and bubbly and allows herself to revel in the giddiness that comes with Harry treating her like something special. If there was one single benefit from this whole mess, it would be Harry – experiencing this homely side of him. Whether it be the connection through their blood, or their time spent together, she felt at complete, and total ease in Harry’s presence. If she was starting to spiral, he pulled her out of it just as quickly. 
“Sorry,” she murmured, swallowing, ripping a piece of the flaky pastry and laying it on her tongue – it tasted like nothing, chalky and bland, “I. . .need to figure things out with Niall soon. I can’t keep burdening you.” 
“You’re no burden,” he answered without a second thought, “Not even a little bit, but I understand needing to sort things out for your peace of mind.” He reaches forward, thumbing at the apple of her cheek, and pinching playfully, “But you don’t need to leave just for that, hm? You’re no burden to me.” 
Y/N rests on the palm of his cheek, sighing, and the smell of all the other humans in the place pales in comparison to Harry, “Mm,” she nuzzles – it’s embarrassing, how easy she is for him, but he doesn’t tease her like he probably could, “I just. . .I think, how I’m seeing it, is I would have done the same.” She explained, “If I’d seen someone, I would have done the same, you know?” Her gaze flickered toward him, “Would you?” 
“I have,” he shrugged, “You know, it’s something that you never really know what you’ll do at the moment but when it’s presented in front of you – that’s when you’ll know. You act off instinct,” he squeezes her shoulder, slipping down to her bicep, “Just how you ran to go save Leaf with no concern of the sun. This isn’t me trying to sway you either,” he shook his head, “If you decided you fucking hated him and never wanted to see him again, I would endorse it. If you decide that you’ll forgive him, then I’ll accept that – whatever you want to do.” 
Y/N nodded, “Yeah,” she ripped another piece of croissant, “Yeah, okay.”
                                                                   .                          .                         .
Despite coming to terms with what she wanted to do, it still took her a week to gain the courage to see him. Harry doesn’t push the issue, merely enjoys his time with her and Leaf until she tells him she is ready. Honestly, there were a couple of times when Y/N wondered if she should just start ignoring it again and live life peacefully with Harry, or as peacefully as she could. But still, it weighed on her, like a Niall-shaped force that stretched himself over her and smothered her in her sleep. She had dreams of confronting him, some heartwarming and with a good outcome, some horrible that left her with tears bearding her eyes. 
She needed to do it. If she did, then she could better focus on whatever the hell is going on between her and Harry. And being a vampire. . .big, important things like that. 
So on a Tuesday, Y/N wakes up from a fitful rest and leaves Harry’s bed to find him in the kitchen. Leaf is cradled to his chest while he speaks to someone on the phone – a designer, she thinks, they’re talking about a pattern of something, but Y/N isn’t sure. She doesn’t get to know either because as soon as Harry sees that she’s awake, he smiles, then hovers his finger over the end button, “Mael, I’ll call you a little later, yeah?” He hangs up without a second thought, and Y/N’s eyes go wide. 
“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand. 
“Nah, s’boring shit anyway. Chevron is a thing of the fucking past and it’s not coming back any time soon on my watch.” He turned on his stool, stretching out his legs and waving her forward, and when she got close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs, “You take forever to get up. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were still a human.” 
She laid her hands on his thighs, “I need to do it today,” she told him, and she didn’t have to be descriptive for Harry to know what she was talking about, “It’s gotta be today or I won’t.” 
His gaze softened, the pale skin of his face smoothed over into something contemplative and understanding. There’s a soft sound that pulls from his throat, and his legs squeeze around her as he nods, “Okay,” he answered easily, “Do you want to ambush him or should I give him a heads up?” 
“Will he run away if he knows I’m coming?” 
Harry pursed his lips in thought, “You know, Niall isn’t one to run away,” he started, “But he also isn’t one to admit when he’s in the wrong either, and he’s done that, so I reckon some of the things I knew about him fundamentally might be wrong. He may flee from guilt alone or he’ll respect you enough to want to hear what you have to say.” 
“Then you can let him know,” she took Leaf, scratching the soft, short furs beneath her chin, “If this is a friendship worth salvaging, then he’ll wait for me.” 
The drive, which typically felt like an hour-long adventure out to the secluded space in which Mitch’s house resided, felt far quicker than it ever had before. Y/N thought it was because this time, she actually wanted it to go by slowly so that she had the chance to collect her thoughts and plan out exactly what she was going to say, and how she was going to say it. She needed the full forty-ish minutes (accounting rush hour) to develop her script, but Harry must be pressing the gas pedal right down to the floorboards because they zip through the roads in record time. 
There’s a hazy, orange glow casting over the trees while the sun sank beyond the horizon, the other half of the sky blotching the inky black sky of a winter night. She wondered if there would be stars later on – there hadn’t been for the last couple of days because of clouds heavy with snow, that’s now freckling the earth and freezing up the soil. Y/N missed them – she feels like she hasn’t seen them in a while. 
They roll up in front of the house, and Y/N thinks all of three seconds go by before a pouting Naomi rips the passenger door open, “Shame on Harry for keeping you all to himself,” she whined, and she unbuckling Y/N before Y/N could even gather her bearings, pulling her out of the car and into her arms. Naomi looks a bit frail but she’s got the strength of someone who’s prepared for war, and she gives Y/N a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve missed you!” 
Y/N laughed lightly, squeezing her arms out from where they’d been trapped between their bodies so she could reciprocate the show of affection, “I missed you too,” she replied. 
“Oi,” he grumbled, “I wasn’t keeping her to myself, I gave her a haven in a rough time.” 
“You never let any of us come over besides Christopher!” 
Harry crossed his arms, after pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, “Why would I want you heathens in my flat? The lot of you would trash the place or steal from me.” 
“You’re just no good at sharing, you –” 
Their voices fade into the background as Y/N leaves them to bicker, a tiny quirk at her lips like the muscles in her face want to smile but are thinking better than to. It was nice, sort of, to be back; to smell all the familiar scents, like she was returning home. This felt more like home than her flat did now, just from the sheer amount of time she’d spent here. She walked the familiar map from the front door, to her room, and nearly made a pitstop to give herself more time but muscled through the desire to. Y/N took the four more steps she needed to before knocking on Niall’s door – she could smell him in there. 
“Come in.” His voice sounds stiff, and when she opens the door, the position he’s sitting in matches it. He must have heard her coming because he isn’t in the lax state he normally is – his legs are off the end of the mattress, feet firm on the floor. He sits straight, his face serious, stern. She’s so used to the nonchalant way he goes about that this is the most uncanny and makes her feel like an agent sent to question him, or a judge to sentence him. Y/N hated that, she doesn’t want it to be like that – she wants it to be normal between them. Or, normal-ish, at least. 
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her cat paw chair sitting at the foot of his bed. Niall followed her gaze and answered before she could even question it, “I – um – promise I wasn’t stealing that,” he replied, “I missed. . .you know – having it in here made me feel a little better. Which I know, I don’t deserve to feel good about what happened.” 
Y/N ignored him, closed the door behind her, and then plopped down in the chair, resting her back on the pink, plush toe beans, “Get on the floor,” she ordered, patting the empty spot in front of her with her foot, “Please stop sitting so straight, it’s freaking me out.” 
Niall is quick to crawl down on the floor in front of her, he relaxes his shoulders so they slump just a little, and he kicks his left leg out how he usually did when he was sprawled out on the floor of her room and they were talking. It brings some normalcy to the situation that Y/N desperately needs. She bites the inside of her bottom lip for a second before giving an unneeded clear of her throat (it was just a habit at this point, she wondered how long it would take for it to break). 
“I’m just gonna come right out with it because I don’t want to beat around the bush, and if I do, I’ll just talk myself in circles until I don’t make any sense,” she started, “At first I was so mad at you I could have slapped you and spit on you and called you names. I was pretty sure that I never wanted to see you again and that I would be fine if you were completely wiped from my life,” he grimaces at the description but does nothing to refute it, “But you couldn’t have been wiped from my life, if I wasn’t living to begin with, which – I know, it gets a little confusing and convoluted. This life I have now is. . .odd, and different, and I’m not human anymore, and maybe by all technicalities I’m not alive, but I feel like I am.” She runs her thumbnail along the inside of her other palm, following the lines in them she’s had since birth, “I feel the world around me, and I can love, and I can talk, and laugh, and work, and cry. I can do all the things that I did before and then some, so even if it is different. . .I’m still alive. And I wouldn’t be had it not been for you.” 
Niall is following along, motionless, soaking in every word, “I’m more upset that you kept it from me. It would have just been nice to know, right? What exactly had happened that night, it’d been plaguing my mind and you would ask every so often, and now I’m realizing it was less from a place of care and more you covering your tail.” She shrugged her shoulders when Niall’s face scrunched with shame, “But I can’t sit here and act like I would do something different. I don’t know what I would do, in a situation like that ��� I think, if I came across someone in my position, then I would have changed them too. I don’t really know how at this point, but I would have tried to figure it out. And I would have been scared, afterward, I don’t know if I would have told anyone either. But I thought we were close enough. . .at least a month in, I feel like you could have told me,” she sighed, “That’s what makes me angriest. I thought we were friends but you were just being nice to me because you felt bad.” 
“That’s not true.” It was the first time he’d uttered a word since she began, “You – maybe at the start, I was a little more protective of you because I felt bad, but the rest of it – I truly felt friendship with you. Not all of it was a lie,” he shook his head, “I wanted to tell you, I did, but it never seemed like an opportune time to. And the one chance I did get, I chickened out. But I get it, if – if you need to be angry, be angry, I honestly wish you would just slap me or hit me or something, so it felt like I was getting punished for it.” 
“I wanted to, believe me, but Harry was pretty convinced that you were punishing yourself enough for it. Listen, what I’m saying is,” she crawled off the cat paw, and took his hands in her own – they were smooth and ice cold – he probably hasn’t been eating well, “My feelings are very conflicted and confusing, and I don’t know if I forgive you entirely, but forgiveness isn’t out of the question. Do you get what I mean?” Niall hums his assent, “I know things can’t go back to the way they were entirely, but I’d like it if we could get somewhere close to it. And – and if you think about it, we’ll probably be around for decades, won’t we? I’m bound to get over it eventually.” 
Niall and Y/N don’t really hug – Naomi is the touchy-feely type, and Y/N can be when she wants to be, but Niall is much more reserved with his affections. So that’s why she is tentative and a little hesitant in embracing him, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, but she’s pleasantly surprised to feel him hug her back tightly, “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and his words vibrated through her throat, “I’m so sorry, thank you for even coming back to talk to me. I thought surely with Harry at your side, you would’ve hated my guts.” 
“You would be surprised by this, but Harry went to bat for you pretty hard,” she peeled back just a little bit, “I mean, he didn’t try to change my opinion but his of you never faltered.” 
Niall frowned, “Ugh, it’s so hard to keep up with hating him sometimes,” Y/N laughed, “Seriously, he’ll be the worst prick alive and then he does something unreasonably kind and it’s like. . .either be a dick, or be nice, I hate the mix-up.” He gently let his arms slip away from her but he remained close, “Speaking of, I’ve been eavesdropping on him and Mitch – they never hear me coming so I can always get away with knowing shite I shouldn’t – has he told you yet? About the whole blood thing?” 
Y/N shook her head, and part of her was worried that Niall would save it for Harry to tell her, but she forgot that Niall is Niall, and through and through, he loved causing trouble for Harry at any given notice, “After Mitch’s initial displeasure that he’d been keeping it from him, he said there was something called ‘fated pairs’ or something like that. Your bodies call out to each other on a molecular level, something that was – predetermined the day you were both born. There was a lot of vampiric folklore nonsense that he spouted off, but he seemed pretty convinced. I don’t know why it affects you both in the way that it would make you horny, but, yeah. He said that it would’ve been the same if you were human – even if you were both humans, actually. That it was like a soul bond.” 
It was a lot to take in; Y/N is relieved of one stress and then immediately another is placed on top of her. Was it stress though? She doesn’t feel stressed at the thought of them being bonded together by their souls – she doesn’t mind that – but she is stressed that maybe he minded that. Because as far as Harry was concerned, there was no rhyme or reason for their reaction to one another’s blood. Y/N hadn’t even known he’d spoken to Mitch about it, and so to find out he has and he didn’t even express the findings to her. . .worries her, a bit. Did he not like it? Was the thought of being tied to her horrible? But if it was then he wouldn’t have been so doting and cuddly these last few weeks, right? 
“You look stressed,” he noted, “I would be too if I was bonded to that fucker, so I understand.” 
Breathlessly, she laughs again, “He’s not so bad.” 
                                                                .                           .                        . 
Harry gets pretty clingy when Y/N goes back. 
Though he’d promised that she wasn’t a bother, she still felt guilty to be inhabiting his home when he was at work. She’d been hearing him postpone different trips too, a couple of days in Italy, a fashion show in France – things that he always went to before, and she had a feeling it was because he didn’t want to leave her alone. It was sweet, but it made her feel guilty, so she decided it was okay to go back for a little while and reacclimate to the house. 
It wasn’t so bad – going from Harry’s modern, high-tech flat to Mitch’s Victorian-style mansion was different but it isn’t horrible. Y/N liked being surrounded by people when Harry was at work or attending some smarmy event, instead of being alone. The only downside was there was a little Leaf-shaped hollow in her heart, but Harry describes shared custody and drops her off with Y/N when he knows he’s going to be out all day or if he does have to leave for one of those week-long trips. 
The others act like she never left. She goes to the movie nights and nobody mentions what happened. Christopher gives her a big, long hug when he sees that she’s returned, then promptly warms her two mugs of “the sweetest blood” as a welcome home present. Naomi comes to inhabit Y/N’s bed and talks about pop culture and how Samuel is fucking someone who isn’t Theodore so that had been a lot of drama while she was away. Delphine starts to visit her room for Leaf – apparently, she’d grown up with a lot of barn cats, so she was very fond of them, and they find their shared love for animals as a link to start speaking more comfortably with each other. And wherever Delphine was, Saskia was close behind. Her past with cats was checkered because she had an allergy to them before, but being a vampire meant eradicating all allergies, so she hesitantly gave Leaf a pet or two. 
Leaf, all tiny and soft, loves the extra attention. 
Niall still comes to her room but not without being invited first. Y/N thinks eventually this will change, but it seems like he doesn’t want to smother her with his presence, though Y/N wouldn’t find it smothering at all. He’s still hesitant, and she gets it – Y/N liked that he respected her enough to let her decide if she was in the right headspace to see him that day or not. 
The only person who takes it hard and acts like it is the worst thing in the world is Harry. He never goes three days without coming to see her, and when he isn’t with her, he’s messaging her and calling her, asking if she wants to FaceTime in between flights. When he does come, he poses a strict, “Nobody bothers us” rule where he threatens to move her dresser in front of the door to ward off “unwanted” intruders (though they could all probably move the dresser anyway, they’re very strong). He crawled into her bed and pulled her into his body, dragging the blankets over them, “You smell too much like the others,” he’d grumble, resting his chin on the top of her head, “Hate it.” 
“You’re silly,” she’d respond but soaked in the snuggling happily — it used to be something they merely indulged in while she was asleep; before, Harry would only ever kind of curl around her or pet her or hold her when she was all blood drunk and full, seconds from slumber. Now he’s much more open and willing to do it whenever – when they were watching the telly, when they were on the ground and Y/N was painting her nails (“I should sit behind you, yeah? You can sit between my legs, and when you’re done with one hand, I’ll blow on your fingers to dry them,”) if they were outside on the deck, practicing whatever Harry had come up with for the day.He crowds her space like he was made to. If Harry was there, they’re glued at the hip, and that was just normal now. 
Y/N wondered if he would ever bring up the whole bond thing, but he seemed content not to. Still, it didn’t seem to deter him from letting her snack on his blood, which she sure only furthers the whole thing. So maybe he wasn’t concerned with it – maybe he was just seeing where it went. Y/N isn’t sure, but she’s usually good at ignoring things. If the other party didn’t want to talk about it then she wouldn’t either, it was never in her nature to press for answers. 
. . .when she was a human, at least. Being a vampire hasn’t changed her at a fundamental level, she doesn’t believe, but it has given her a new outlook on life, and a different perspective on some things. It was better to ask and get an answer that she didn’t want rather than continue not knowing something for sure. If she’d lived by that rule in the past it would have probably saved her a lot of trouble. 
So Y/N asks him outright, Leaf curled in her lap in a tiny furry heap, and Harry with his arms curled around Y/N’s body protectively. Nobody else was in the den – they were either in their rooms or out and about (with a strict curfew now, because of the whole thing between her and Niall – Mitch blamed himself for giving them a little too much freedom being newly presented). Harry suggested they utilize the tv then, instead of trying to watch it on her laptop screen. Harry tells her they should be at his flat, but since he was supposed to go three hours away for a photoshoot tomorrow, he didn’t want to leave her alone (it turns out he’d been postponing more than she had initially thought so now he was playing catch up – something about Spring deadlines and all of that). 
The screen clears as the next episode of the show they’re watching loads up, and maybe it isn’t the best timing or the best place to do it, but she has to ask before she loses her nerve. 
“Are we a. . .fated pair? Is that what it’s called?” 
She feels Harry stiffen behind her, his hold around her arms tightening only slightly as he processes what she’d just inquired. There aren’t a lot of things that could stun Harry, as long as he’s been around he normally has a response to anything and everything within a couple of seconds – but he sits with this for a little longer. His fingers, where they’d rested on her waist, began to play with the fabric of her shirt, plucking at the hem and fiddling with the stitches. The tension in the air is palpable, but it isn’t a horrible tension. Not something she wanted to run away from, at least. 
“Niall,” Harry finally muttered, like he’d been spending half of the time he was silent, trying to figure out how Y/N would have heard that, “That fucker is too good at masking his presence.” 
“Harry –” 
“I know,” he exhales, and Y/N thinks it’s funny that he does things like this not because he’s releasing a breath, but to express how he’s feeling. He nudges the side of her head with his own and dips his nose into the curve of her throat, his favorite spot, “With you at my flat, and with how you’d been eating from me still, the – how I felt for you was becoming concerning and a little obsessive. Not in like an obsessive “I’m going to kill her so nobody else can have her” way, more like a “I want to be near her and I’m forgoing responsibilities to spend time with her” kind of way. I don’t do that, for people, I’m not. . .so giving with my time, which makes me sound like a dick, but it’s the truth. I have my time and they have theirs, even if it’s someone that I’m interested in,” he slides his fingers beneath her shirt’s fabric, his nails tracing circles into her skin, “But with you, I just. . .wanted to be around you. To be with you makes me feel calm; it soothes me like putting ice on a sprain. And for you to drink from my vein and our bodies react so intensely to it. . .well, it had to be something.” 
“I was glad to ignore it and just continue enjoying myself with you, but I was getting curious. And I knew you and Niall would make up soon, and you’re so concerned about being a burden all of the time, I knew you wouldn’t take me up on my offer to stay with me. This meant I was going to be coming around her, and being way more possessive and clingy than I ever have before and Mitch always knows what’s going on in the house. He would ask me about it eventually, so I just beat him to it.” He lifted his head, and his words were less muffled when he coaxes her to lean back against his chest more, “He went into the most intricate, convoluted discussion about molecules, and vampiric folklore, and I’ll be honest most of it went right over my fucking head, except for him saying that we were bound together by our souls. That whether we had met like this, or centuries ago in my village, while I was running from war, or had I just been some random UNI student sitting beside you in class – we would always have this kind of connection. It’s rare,” he squeezes her hips, “It’s a rare thing, a really rare thing, and it used to happen more often back in the 1600s but that doesn’t mean it never happens now.” 
Y/N cranes her neck to face him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her brows pinched toward the center, and Harry reached out, using his thumb to press at the crinkle in her skin and smooth it out. 
“I wanted to, but – I don’t know. I kind of wanted you to conclude for yourself, if you liked me or not. I didn’t want it to feel forced because you knew about this. Other than my blood making you a filthy, horny little thing, I don’t know exactly what your feelings are for me. And I know – you told me you feel whole after you drink from me, but again, outside of that – outside of the blood, I don’t know how you feel.” 
Y/N thinks, that if she’d eaten recently, blood would be roaring in her ears and her heart would be thudding something fierce in her chest. It was one thing to have Niall tell her on a whim, it was another thing for Harry to admit it to her, all shy, avoiding her gaze and pressing tight and close to her body. It was another thing to hear him feel insecure about not knowing how she felt about him.
Because for Y/N, she’d thought she’d been incredibly obvious. She wanted to be around him always, she recognized his scent out of everyone anywhere, she felt safe when his hands were on her in some way, or even when he was just nearby. Even when he was short with her, or grumpy, Y/N had felt endlessly at ease. After what happened at the club, he was the only person she wanted to be around. The way her heart lights up when he calls her sweet names, or when she sees him for the first time in a while. How her whole mind swam at the prospect of him rather hurting his hands than letting anyone else see her vulnerable when she’d been in the sun. No matter when he lost his patience, or when he seemed upset, or even when he swore up and down that he shouldn’t be a mentor  – he was supportive, tender, and made her head feel melty and her insides gossamer soft. 
“I have plenty of reason to like you, outside of some bond,” she finally replied, wiggling in his arms to face him again – Leaf got up, stumbled out of her lap, then stretched with a silent yawn, “And it wasn’t just after eating. Just being with you makes me feel. . .complete, just as I said before. I thought it was just the blood, but when you leave for work and we’re separated, there’s a – it’s noticeable, the gape I feel in your absence.” Y/N curled her fingers up in his shirt, “I mean, how I feel for you, surpasses how I ever felt for Daniel, my old friend. As dramatic as it is, I’d thought I would never be able to love again –” 
“Oh, you humans and your theatrics,” he murmured with a laugh and Y/N smiled shyly, looking away. 
“-- but the way I’ve felt about you lately, I just don’t think whatever puppy love crush I had on him scratches the surface. Sorry, I wasn’t clear about it. I’d been so focused on trying to figure out my place in this world again and how to live life like this, that I hadn’t given myself a chance to sit and sort through my emotions. But they’re there – they’re real and scary.” 
Harry kisses her – she wasn’t expecting it, but she’d completely turned around in his lap by then so at least the angle wasn’t horrible. His lips are soft, and without the preface of something lewd, it is saccharine and chaste. Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into him, practically molding herself into the shape of his body. It was good – Harry’s been treating her delicately for a while now, but this was different. Like he was kissing something important to him. Something that he wanted to handle with softhearted gloves. 
When they part, Harry kisses the corner of her mouth, then her right cheek, her temple, over her forehead, and down the other side of her face. They’re feather-light and ticklish but his arms cage her in so she couldn’t wiggle away, helpless but to giggle. Once he finishes, he hums low and their eyes meet. 
“I’ll be keeping you, so get used to this.” He admitted, and if he’d eaten recently, then his cheeks would have flushed pink the way they do anytime he’s sentimental.
Y/N nodded and hid herself in his chest. 
She didn’t mind that at all. 
                                                              .                        .                       .
Harry couldn’t wait to see her. 
He used to take great pleasure in his week to two-week-long trips out of the country for work, whether he was going to Dubai, Milan, Paris, or other places like it. Harry would gorge on international feeders and sex and all the adoration from people who question his otherworldly beauty and get lost in his sharp gaze. It was nice to be sought after, admired, to get his fill of all the blood he wanted. He thought it was a fair trade, for all those years ago, when he’d been scrawny and worthless to everyone. 
However, now? He just can’t wait to get home. Without the sex and the gorging, there actually wasn’t a whole lot to do in any of those spots that he hadn’t done thousands and thousands of times before. It was work, strictly work, and there was no sort of pleasure, apart from the gratification of seeing one of his looks trek down the runway. Besides that, there was only one person he wanted to sleep with now, one person he wanted to be adored by, and only one person he wished to get lost in his gaze. 
And she was thousands of kilometers away from him, probably coding some program that made no sense to his brain, in his sweatshirt that he made her promise to wear and those horrific (and endearingly cute) slippers shaped like cats that she picked up from the store in honor of Leaf (who liked to chew on them when Y/N wiggled her toes). Even on the plane ride back home, he wondered how he could make it quicker – if there was a way to travel even faster than a plane. He supposes he could run, his legs are quite fast, but if someone spotted him going a little too fast to be human, then that would be a whole other list of shit to deal with instead of just tucking himself into Y/N’s side. 
So as soon as he was finished up, the models had gone home, he’d given his statement for editorials, and he’d shared one glass of wine with a designer he really couldn’t be arsed to learn the name of (he’d drank with types like Chanel and Dior in the past, so the glitz and glamor of it now are easily lost on him) – Harry was on a plane and headed home. He used the in-flight wifi to watch a movie Y/N had suggested to him, but he was barely paying attention. How could he, when he was so excited to get home to her? 
It was crazy to think this was where their relationship had ended up. She used to be nothing but an obnoxious little thorn in his side and now all he wants to do is smother her with affection and give her his blood. Y/N was so important to him, it made his heart feel heavy and full for the first time in. . .well, he isn’t sure it’s ever felt this heavy and full before. The weight in his chest is unfamiliar, and at first, it had been unwelcomed, but he likes it now. It’s as if she’d curled her body around it and took residence there. She’s always with him, in that sense of it. 
The others had gotten used to it far quicker than he’d imagined they would. He expected more teasing as well, but they all like Y/N a lot, so he guesses to tease him is to tease her indirectly and they don’t want to. The most he gets is scolded that he isn’t good at sharing, and why should he be? Harry feels like he’d spent centuries waiting for her, now that he has her – doesn’t he deserve to be a little selfish? Especially after a week of not seeing her, Harry just wants her all to himself. That’s why he suggested that she come to his flat the first day he’s back, so they could be alone. 
So he’s more than happy, after the flight, after getting his shit from baggage claim and finding his car in the mass of other vehicles parked for overnight trips, and the 30-minute long drive from the airport to his flat – to see her just as he’d envisioned her. Only with a few additions; she wore the sweatshirt, and she had on these little shorts that were filthy (but she swore up and down she wore them because they were comfortable and not to taunt him with how little it would take before her bum was out), but tucked under her thigh was Leaf’s feather toy. Whenever Y/N was working, Leaf could go from sleeping peacefully at her side to the zoomies in all of three seconds, so this was her way of keeping her preoccupied – the stick was placed just precisely so that the feather and the string hung off the side of the couch for Leaf to jump and pull at. Y/N has pretty decent thigh muscles so she’s able to keep it in place without letting it move around too much. 
She has those horrible little booties on,  but she’s wrapped up in the throw blanket that Harry usually has wrapped around him – not for warmth, of course, but the way soft fibers feel against his skin is nice. He knows Y/N is not using it for that purpose because it touches nowhere that her skin shows, besides a little bit of her face. Y/N has it so close to her so that she can smell him, and Harry is just. . .so endeared by that he could scream. 
When he walked through the door, Y/N turned to face him with a big grin. She slid her computer out of her lap, and Leaf’s toy fell to the ground once she stood, carefully stepping over the kitten, and getting up on the other sofa so she could climb over it. She gets to him quicker this way, and her arms slink around his neck, and she holds him close, “Finally,” she murmured, “A week is too long.”
“You could always come with me.” He smiled into her hair, letting his eyes close – it was good to have her in his arms again, “I don’t think they’d mind a puppy backstage.” 
Y/N peeled away from him, flicking him in the center of his chest, “Shut up,” she threw at him, but it held no real spite, and her eyes were dripping in mirth, “Should I dress myself then show up?” 
“Oh, baby, please don’t – let me be the one to dress you.” 
It was nice, that back and forth, and had Harry not felt so keyed up then he probably would have started a load of laundry, showered, gotten in more comfortable clothes and they could have just hung out for the night. 
But Harry was keyed up – a week away from Y/N meant a week away from not only her beautiful brain, but her beautiful body as well, and he was missing the sounds she’d make when his fingers slid against her. How easy she was to rile up, the way she tasted on his tongue, how dripping wet she got from even just a little bit of Harry’s blood in her. It’s precisely why he’d eaten so much before leaving, and he’s sure she could tell he’d just eaten recently, with how warm his cheeks felt they must be rosy. And that flush on his pale skin is clear as day, especially how it slithers down his throat, and if he’s really worked up, it might splotch his chest. 
“When’s the last time you ate, Sweetheart?” He inquired – the icy little tip of her nose was enough to tell him it had been a while.
“Mm, I had some earlier, when I woke up,” she explained, “But I got distracted with work, so I haven’t since.” 
Normally, Harry might chide her for that, but he’s all too excited to offer his throat, “I have a treat for you then,” he placed his hands on her hips, walking her backward, “Get on the couch.” 
Where Y/N used to start on the side of his body and eventually make her way into his lap while she ate, she just crawled into his lap now to cut out the unnecessary jostling around. The weight of her in his lap is familiar, nice, and something he didn’t realize that he missed until he was away from her. She stretches her thighs on either side of him and scoots in very close; Harry is already half hard, and he isn’t sure if he’d been like this since he saw her, or on the plane when he’d even just thought about her. Whatever it was and whenever it was, he was definitely already getting hard just from the anticipation of her teeth in his neck. It felt like young adulthood all over again, when it wasn’t “mind over matter”, and Harry couldn’t help but get hard in three seconds from one thought. 
“I missed you,” she tells him, pressing her chest up against his, her nipples were already hard and Harry felt dizzy with the want burgeoning up from deep in his belly, “So much, and you were only gone for a week. It’s a little embarrassing.” 
“I miss you when I leave you alone for an hour,” he slides his hand on the nape of her neck and brings her closer, “Isn’t embarrassing. I’m flattered that you like me enough to miss me, even. Now take what you need, baby, I ate enough to fill you up.” 
The slide of her teeth into his skin never gets old, especially when it’s his throat. There’s a bite of pain, immediately soothed over by the euphoric feeling of it not only being a vampire bite, but a Y/N bite. The way she goes about it is still so tentative to start, and unsure, like she’s worried about hurting him – but the moment she tastes his blood on her tongue, all that vanishes. She moaned against his neck like she’d been starving for months and he’d finally come to save her, her fingers digging into his body wherever her hands lie. Harry can feel her inhibitions leave her, the way she gulps, drinks him down, and takes her fill how he wants her to. 
It’s always after a minute that Y/N’s body starts to move out of tandem with her. She hates that she starts rutting against him like an overexcited puppy, but that doesn’t stop the way her hips twitch and push closer to him while she’s eating. Harry’s hand slid from her neck, to meet his other at her hips, holding her still as she rolled her hips into him greedily. “Mm, it feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Especially after not having it for so long,” Harry shuddered, closing his eyes as he melted into the feeling, “I bet your pussy is already soaked.” 
Y/N whines, and he can only imagine how debauched the scene must look from an outsider's perspective. Her hands slip under his shirt, fingers tracing along his stomach and when the muscles in his abdomen tense up, his cock throbs to match. Harry’s fully hard now, and he thinks he’s already leaking, dripping into the inside of his trousers because he was always one to forgo underwear when it caused lines in his pants. Y/N lines herself up with him, tucking him into the folds because her pussy just swallows these shorts up, and rolls into him, “That’s it,” he whispered, “Such a good girl, you can have anything you want.”
The times she bites his throat aren’t always for pleasure. Harry still tries to prepare her for the first time she will meet with a feeder, so each time Y/N eats she gets better and better. She’s learned to stop when she’s full and to not overstuff herself just because it tastes good. She also has learned to read the queues of the other person, that she might have had too much – it’d be different for a human, but she can tell by the way Harry might start feeling even a degree less warm than he began as. 
He isn’t sure what coaxes her to stop today. She pulled away from his neck and lulled her tongue over the little puncture wounds in his skin, before moving so she faced him. Y/N made a pretty sight with her hazy eyes and her mouth stained red. Before he could spend too much time admiring her, she fixes her lips against his, slips her tongue into his mouth, and oh fuck. 
She’d kept some of his blood in her mouth, so it filled his own when she kissed him, and his eyes all but rolled up to the back of his head. Who had taught her something so filthy? His cock throbs so hard in his pants and he’s leaking so much precum he’s wondered if he’s cum already – he’s sure it’s sticky and webby beyond belief around the head of his cock, and Y/N isn’t helping the matter, she’s just making it worse. 
Harry takes her by the chin, parts her lips, and makes sure they stay open. Without having to instruct her, she presses the tip of her tongue to her bottom lip, waiting patiently – normally Harry places a couple of fingers on her tongue for her to suck and bite at, so he presumes that’s what she was expecting. But Harry couldn’t help himself, and if Y/N was going to be filthy, then he was going to be filthier, so he encased her tongue and her bottom lip with his mouth and suckled at it. When Y/N mewls, he takes more of her in, sucking the taste of him off her tongue while he pries at her little shorts. He was in no mood for her to get off his lap to wiggle them down, so he tore them, shredding the fabric. 
She makes a startled sound, mixed with a moan when Harry slips his tongue back into her mouth to kiss her properly again. Harry’s head spins when he backs away from her – they could kiss forever without needing to take a single breath (or they would be able to one day when Y/N really didn’t need to use her lungs anymore), but Harry wanted to look at her. Want to see her with lips bitten red and swollen, filled with blood that Harry kind of wants to knick with his tooth and drink from. He presses at her chest just a little so she stretches back, and he gathers the fabric at the bottom of her shirt in between his thumb and index finger, pressing it up her quivering belly. 
Her pussy is puffy and swollen and soaking wet, he would’ve thought she’d been touching herself before he’d come home. He can’t tell if he wants to bury his face or his cock into it more, but another hard throb suggests he’d better do the latter or he would cum hard in his pants. He uses his fingers to spread her open, showing off the engorged bud of her clit, chuckling brightly when it pulses beneath his attention. Harry is unsure what drives him to sink his fingers lower, get three of them wet then return to her clit to slap it, but he does, and the payoff is Y/N trying to close her legs around him with the most wanton of sounds. He does it again, a little harder, and Y/N’s hand comes to grab his wrist, “I’ll cum,” she whines like that was supposed to deter him, “I’ll cum if you keep going.” 
“Isn’t that the point?” He murmured, sliding his fingers through her juices and tucking them up inside of her, petting at her g-spot for a second before slipping them back out and licking her off his hand, “Want you to cum.” 
“I wanna cum with you in me,” she sounded like she was pleading with him, and Harry had always been a sucker for pretty girls begging, “Please?” 
Harry’s quick to work the button of his trousers open, pulling the zip and removing his cock from the oppressive confines of it. He’s harder than he’d even thought, but he was right to assume that he’d leaked so much precum it looked like he’d cum. The clear fluid oozes from the tip in a long, sticky line, filling up the dip of his hip bone. Y/N ogles him with awe-filled eyes, “Whoa,” she swallowed thickly, her fingers tracing up the underside from his balls to the tip, in a move he doesn’t think she means to be as teasing as it is, “You’re really hard.” 
“I know,” he bites down hard on his bottom lip as he throbs again, under her attention, in the coolness of the air. 
“Like, harder than I’ve ever seen you,” she states, and now her palm slides against his shaft, and she squeezes experimentally, looking between him and his cock, “And you’re so wet –” 
“Y/N,” he just barely holds back from whimpering, “No teasing, Darling, I need to fuck this into you or I’ll cum all over myself. You don’t want to waste it, do you?” He inquired, and Y/N shook her head, scooting closer, “Yeah, let me fill you up, Baby, want to watch it fucking drip out of you when we’re done.” 
She visibly shivered again, and Harry helped her lift and slide his cock inside of her. Y/N moans, her face pinches up from the pressure of him against her walls but she slips right on down like he belonged inside of her. Harry thinks Y/N likes the stretch – the burn of it, as long as it doesn’t border on too painful. She bottoms out, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she smushes their lips together. The kiss is brief before she nips at his plush bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth. While she does that, Harry presses his upper lip just above hers, his fingers digging into her thighs as she squeezes around him, accommodating his size. Her walls were velvety soft and smooth as they contract around him, the ridges and bumps something he’s set on memorizing. 
Her ministrations with her mouth go to his chin, she kisses then bites her way down his jaw, to his ear, laving her tongue over the little wounds that were no doubt closing and healing over by now. Harry offers her his hand when he realizes that she must want to bite something, and he’d made the right assumption when she fits his knuckles between her teeth and chews on him. Harry laughs as she starts to lift her hips, then drops back down onto him, “You’re so fucking cute,” he chuckled, “Should we get you a chew toy? A little bone for a puppy like you?” 
“Shut up,” her words are muffled around his fingers in her mouth but she’s riding him well. It feels so fucking good, Harry is holding onto every last bit of strength not to cum before her. A damning feat to accomplish when she finds the angle that hits that bundle of nerves inside of her just right – she clamps down on him, her eyes bead with tears as she fucks down onto him, and nibbles at his fingers. 
“Do you feel good, Baby? S’my cock stretching you out nice?” Y/N nodded, whining, “You can cum for me. Don’t you want that? Cum on me and I’ll fill this little pussy right up.” 
Harry shoves the sweatshirt up so it rests just above her bare tits, or at least enough that he can visualize them and then get one into his mouth. Her nipples are still hard, so pert and sensitive for him when he pulls them between his teeth and lulls his tongue in big circles around them. Harry alternates between sucking hard and flicking his tongue, and Y/N goes from chewing on his knuckles to holding them uselessly in her mouth and moaning around them. Harry feels her start to cum before she can even tell him through these breathy little whines. 
He isn’t ashamed to say he starts cumming before she could finish – he makes sure to work her through it still, fucking through the point of overstimulation, his thumb lulling on her clit when he raised his feet onto the coffee table and started to fuck into her. Harry fills her up, his orgasm splinters through him so intensely that he thinks his vision whites out for a second. He’s throbbing so hard inside of her, he knows she could feel it each time, and in response to each one, she mewls and sighs as she finally starts to come down from her own high. 
Harry untucks his face from her chest just as Y/N drops his fingers from her mouth. He’s still tucked inside of her but his cum slicks out from around where his cock is plugging her up, too much of it to even keep inside. The feeling is a little atrocious as it cools, but the thought of what it must look like almost has him stiffening up again. 
Y/N all but collapsed onto him, and Harry oofs! dramatically, before wrapping her up in his arms. Her arms moved to hug around his waist this time, and she murmured something on his shoulder that he couldn’t quite make out. She turns her head, so her cheek rests against his shoulder instead, “I said I really missed you,” she repeated, “I’m happy you’re back home.” 
A lot of responses run through Harry’s head, including, but not limited to I’m happy you’re here with me, I’m happy you’re in my life, I’m happy my cum is dripping out of you right now, I’m happy that our fates matched in this way, I’m happy that we have a kitten name Leaf, I’m happy our souls are bound together. 
Harry doesn’t though. He thinks them, and he smiles to himself when he replies with something that he’s pretty sure covers all of that. 
“I’m happy too.” 
1K notes · View notes
shdysders · 5 months
Text
admiration
pairing: jenna ortega & reader
summary: in which jenna admires you, and every single thing you do.
word count: 1.1k
warnings: none
author’s note: here it is! 1.1k words of pure fluff and admiration. enjoy!
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Jenna loves you.
Her love for you is so powerful that it felt like it would consume you if she let it pour out completely.
She loves you so much that she would move mountains to see you smile. Your happiness becomes her top priority whenever you're around, and she'd do anything to make you feel loved and cherished.
She loves you so much that her heart skips a beat every time you walk into the room. It's like she's under a spell, completely captivated by your presence.
She loves you so much that every moment spent apart feels like an eternity. When you're together, it's pure magic, like the world stops spinning just for the two of you.
She adores your bright radiant smile that was like a burst of sunshine on a cloudy day. The smile that appeared on your face every time you saw her. Jenna would rather see your smile than the sunlight on the sky, because it brightens her world like the sun breaking through clouds.
Your smile had a way of making her heart flutter, filling her with a sense of pure bliss. It was like a gentle breeze on a summer day, caressing her heart with its warmth and tenderness. It was a mesmerizing sight, like a thousand twinkling stars in the night sky.
She thinks your smile is a work of art, a masterpiece that could melt even the coldest of hearts and bring a sense of peace and tranquility. It's a treasure she cherishes, a constant reminder of the beauty and magic that exists in this world.
She cherishes your voice in every tone you have. In the morning when your voice is groggy or husky, darker than usual, or at night when you're tired and about to go to sleep; when it's hushed and slight slurry. She loves your voice when you're speaking softly and gentle towards her, whether it was while enjoying each other or while comforting her, she loved it.
She treasures your radiant and infectious laughter, the sound brought her immense joy and was incredibly delightful to listen to.
Her heart dances with joy every time she hears the melodic symphony of your laughter, like a chorus of happiness filling the air.
Your laughter is a contagious melody that wraps around her soul, creating a symphony of love and laughter that resonates deep within her being. In your laughter, she finds solace and comfort, like a soothing lullaby that whispers to her heart, reminding her of the joy you share with her.
She adores the sparkles in your eyes that would appear whenever you would hold a conversation about something you were passionate about; which was everything, really. She adores the way you speak with your hands, along with the toothy grin on your face when you spoke.
You were the only person in the whole entire world that she could listen to for hours on repeat, and never grow tired of your voice. Even if you would say the same things over and over again. Even if it meant she would never be allowed to speak again, she wouldn't care.
Being with you was the only thing she would ever want and need, that was what she would think of every time she looked at you; what a gift she has received to be allowed to be your fiancée, let alone be with you.
Like right now, when you were sitting in front of her at a miniature table, with wine in between of you. This was like the moments she cherished the most, just being with you, just the two of you.
You couldn't notice the heart eyes Jenna wore, being too busy talking about previous events in your life while she was working.
Jenna loved hearing about your life more than anybody, and you loved to hear about hers. You were in fact a great listener, an expert at giving confirmation, such as nods or lead questions. But if Jenna would allow herself to talk more about her experiences, that would mean she wouldn't be able to listen to you as much, and she never wanted anything less.
Your touch was an irresistible craving that consumed her every thought. Whether it was when your soft fingertips danced on her skin or such simple things as warm embraces or a sweet kiss.
It made her feel a sense of warmth, a rush of excitement, or a sweet shiver down her  spine. Your touch makes her feel cherished and adored, as if she's the most precious thing in the world to you. Your touch ignites a fire within her, melting away any worries or doubts, and leaving only a profound sense of connection and passion.
She loves every feature you have. Your bubbly and upbeat personality that would lit up every room you entered.
She loves the small details about you that only she knows and cares for. The subtle creases that would form at the corner of your eyes when you would smile, the strong dimples that would appear when you would smile or laugh ever so slightly.
The way you would tap your fingers when you're lost in thought. The slight tilt of your head when you're really listening to someone.
The way your voice softens when you're talking about something you're very passionate about. The little quirks in your laugh that only Jenna can recognize.
The way your whole face would lit up or soften when you saw her after being apart.
She loves your facial features, your gorgeous eyes that is full of warmth, beauty and love. Your defined eyebrows that frames your face and add to the character you are. Your soft and full lips that she was lucky enough to kiss every morning, night and a thousands of times in between.
Your perfectly slim hands that she would hold every second if she could. Your elegantly formed nails that always has some type of nail polish on them, new colors every week. Every Monday you ask Jenna what color you should paint them, and then you do the exact color she chooses. Every. Single. Time.
It was small things like those that made Jenna feel special. Like she was the only person that you cared about, the only person with a decent opinion on this earth.
She loves every single thing about you, but if she let every single thought about you fly free, the love would consume you. That's how much admiration she had for you.
818 notes · View notes
borathae · 4 months
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↳ Index [Snippet #45 - Showerhead]
"When you and Jungkook get each other off with a showerhead."
Genre: married life!AU, Slice of Life Fluff, Smut
Warnings: the cozy small town vibes we all love TCT for <3, Kookie being a sexy tattoo artist, he's a tired bean as is OC, a cozy night in with burgers from Seokjin's diner, Bam being the cutest dog, the next warnings are for smut: this is kinda a quickie, there's no specific roles just a married couple having some sexy time to let off some steam, they had a lil bit of a stressful day and relax this way, shower sex, making out, naked grinding, some grinding on his thigh, they use the showerhead on each other to make each other cum, Jungkook being wet and hot, sexy communication, dirty talk, praise, size & strength kink, squirting, giggly aftercare, this is the kinda sex you can only have with someone you know well and love dearly, they're so in love you guys :(, *shrivels up* the domestic comfort *implodes*
Wordcount: 5.3k
a/n: my explanation for this? i love this universe, i love this couple, i love their bond. enjoy besties 🧡
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“Hey there.”
Seokjin lifts his head from the receipts he was sorting through. His eyes light up instantly, an adoring smile curls his lips.
“___! Yooo, you’re here”, he hollers and leaves his place behind the counter with stretched open arms.
You fall into the hug, letting out a little giggle because you’re really happy to see him.
“I am. Today was stressful as fuck though”, you say.
“Yeah? Busy day at the restaurant?”
“One could say that, yeah”, you say and break the hug, “how was your day?”
“Stressful as well. I don’t know why people were so hungry today, but it’s only just calmed down.”
You scan your eyes over the familiar diner. Seven of the twenty three tables are occupied. You shake your head in comradery knowledge and look back at Seokjin.
“I think it’s the weather. People like eating out when it’s cloudy.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Speaking of food, I’ve got your burgers in the back”, he says and turns to leave.
“You’re a fucking saviour, you know?”
“Tell me once I’m back”, he calls out and disappears in the kitchen.
He reappears again after a few seconds, carrying a paper bag with your order.
“Here you go. Two deluxe beef burgers with extra bacon for Kook and lots of sauce for you.”
“And two servings of chilli cheese fries.”
“Of course, with extra cheese because it’s you.”
“Dude, I seriously love you. You saved our evening. I feel too tired to cook and I know Kook’s gonna wanna lie down the moment he’s home.”
“Where is he? Still at the studio?”
“Yeah, till eight. He’s got a full back tattoo to finish. He’s been at it since nine.”
“Geez, whoever is getting the tattoo is either insane or has lost all feeling in their nerves ‘cause a full back tattoo for elven hours is fucking mental.”
“Right? Dude, when Kook did the snake on my shoulder blade?” you turn your shoulder to him, pointing at it even if currently your biker jacket is keeping it hidden.
“Yeah?”
“I cursed at him multiple times. Not ‘cause I wanted to, but ‘cause it happened on instinct. It hurt like a fucking bitch.”
Seokjin laughs, “I know how you feel. My back tattoo experience still haunts me.”
“Didn’t you curse at him too?”
“I think I might have even threatened his life at one point.”
You and he laugh.
“Totally understandable”, you joke.
“Yeah, ah funny”, Seokjin says and walks behind the counter again.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Please, it’s on the house.”
“I hate it when you do that. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s fine, dude. Just bring me some of those parmesan rind balls you’re serving at the restaurant and we’re even.”
You roll your eyes and place the correct amount of money on the counter.
“Good thing I worked here for years”, you say and turn your back to Seokjin to strut off.
“I should change the prices, seriously”, Seokjin jokes as he looks at you, reaching for the money you left.
You snicker, turning in the doorway, “see you at Tae’s and Hobi’s on Saturday?”
“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to DnD night all week. Namjoon keeps talking about how much fun being DM is. He says this session will be unlike any before.”
“He always says that and then they never disappoint.”
“Seriously”, Seokjin agrees, “and Jimin was here this morning and said that Yoongi will bring apple pie.”
“Seriously? Oh my god, mhhm”, you groan, “I’m so excited, dude.”
“Me too”, Seokjin says and lifts his hand for a wave, “drive safely, ___.”
“Thank you. You too, Seokjin”, you say and turn to leave.
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You store your dinner in the safety compartment on your bike and put your helmet on. You fix your gloves and then finally sit down on your bike to drive off. The smell of warm concrete tickles your nose as you cruise through the familiar streets. The diner soon disappears behind you and Hoseok’s garage appears to your right. You slow down to see if you can spot him. You can. He is working outside. He lifts his head at the sound of your bike and stands up, lifting his hand to wave at you. You wave back at him, slowing down your bike because luckily for you, the lights turned red. You open your visor.
“Yoongi brings apple pie on Saturday!” you call out loudly over the rumbling of your bike and also to bridge the distance.
“Dude, that’s fucking awesome!” Hoseok calls back, making a funnel with his hands to be louder, “driving home?”
“Yeah! I got burgers at Jin’s!”
“Nice! Enjoy them!”
“I will!”
The lights turn green again.
“See you Saturday!” you yell happily and close your visor to drive off.
Hoseok gives you a wave with both of his hands, swaying his hips from side to side to really get his excitement across. You laugh in fondness, giving him a wave until a turn to your left, naturally forces both your hands back onto the handles so you could take it safely.
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The denser inner town soon disappears behind you as the road takes you along the coast. You pass Jimin’s and Yoongi’s house on tonight’s route. The lights in the street facing rooms are turned off, but you can spot the garden lights being on. You sound your horn as you pass them, knowing that they will know that it was you greeting them. Then you speed up, leaning into it. The road allows you to do so safely and there is nothing better than feeling the warm night air on your skin. Today is a good day. Even if it was stressful, the small moments of familiarity and good friendship were already enough to make it a good day.
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Bam waits for you by the garage door, containing his excitement by sneezing repeatedly and tippy-tapping with his hind legs.
“Hello there Bamie, how was your day?” you greet him in a squeaky voice.
Bam huffs out air, shaking his head.
“That’s good to hear. I had a stressful day, but I got burgers”, you say and walk off to the kitchen. Bam follows next to you, sniffling at the bag, “it’s not for you, you greedy boy”, you laugh, moving it higher so he can’t reach it anymore, “don’t worry, mommy’s gonna feed you right away”, you say and open the fridge, “are you hungry, baby?”
You and Jungkook started a new diet with Bam after consulting with your trusty vet. It consists of raw, fresh meats, vegetables, fish and eggs presented in a bowl which makes him work for the food so he gets mental stimulation out of it as well. He even gets some berries and the most delicious unsalted bone broth to wash it down with. Truly, your little doggy son eats like royalty with you. You swear that ever since you started his diet, his fur glowed more and his poops smell better.
Bam waits by your feet with his tail wagging excitedly, looking up at you with big eyes.
“Almost done, baby. Wow, you can’t even imagine how stressful today was. I had to run around so much, my feet hurt”, you say and pick up the filled bowl to carry it to Bam’s feeding station.
The Doberman follows you and sits down in perfect position instantly. Just like you and Jungkook have trained him.
“Good boy”, you praise him, “turn.”
Bam follows.
“Sit.”
Bam follows.
“Good boy. Wait.”
Bam follows, watching you put his food bowl into the mount. You straighten up. Bam looks up at you.
“Wait.”
He doesn’t move.
“Wait.”
He doesn’t move.
“Release.”
Bam finally moves and jumps up to begin eating his food. You give him a little pet on his back.
“Good boy. There we go, enjoy your food.”
You give him his space afterwards, leaving the kitchen to change into comfortable clothes and wash your hands. You are in the hallways leading to the stairs when Jungkook comes home.
“Sweetie! I’m home!”
“Hellooo”, you coo, jogging down the stairs and meeting Jungkook at the end of them. You stay on the last step, hooking your arms behind his head to pull him into a kiss. He has to tilt his head up for it, wrapping his arms around your waist, “mwuah”, you end the kiss, giving him a happy scrunch of your face.
He retorts it, hugging you.
“How was your day?”  he asks you.
“Stressful, but not bad. Yours?”
“Exhausting. My back’s killing me and my neck’s already dead.”
You slide your hand to his neck to massage it gently.
“I can imagine. Did you finish it?”
“Yeah, the madman actually sat through the entire tattoo.”
“That’s actually crazy.”
“Yeah”, Jungkook chuckles and lifts his head, resting his chin against your chest. He grins as he talks, “did you get the burgers?”
“Of course I did. They’re waiting for us in the kitchen.”
“I’m so hungry already.”
“Me too”, you say and break the hug by getting down from the last step, “wanna watch The Witcher as we eat?”
“Yes, that sounds like a plan”, Jungkook says as he jogs up the stairs to change into comfortable clothes and wash his hands.
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You have the burgers and fries prepared on your coffee table when Jungkook comes back. Bam is on the sofa next to you, resting his head on his front paws as he enjoys his post dinner nap. Jungkook wakes him as he gets on his knees in front of him and greets him with kisses all over his face.
“Hello Bamie”, he coos in a squeaky voice, “did you have a good day? Daddy had a really long day. Oh Bamie, my baby.”
The Doberman accepts his dad’s kisses with a wagging tail. It makes a dull sound of impact each time it slaps the couch cushions.
“Mwuah”, Jungkook finishes his kisses with a smooch to Bam’s forehead and then stands up. He picks up his burger and plops down on the couch so Bam was between you and him. He stretches his legs out and lets his head plop against the cushions. Then he sighs, “that’s luxury, seriously.”
“Yeah”, you agree, “ready?”
“Yeah.”
You press play on the show and for the next twenty minutes, you enjoy your dinner as the show was running. You pause it once you are finished with your food so you could carry the dirty plates to the kitchen and start the dishwasher. You return with some chocolate drops for dessert.
“Choco snack?” you offer Jungkook.
“Uuh, yes thank you”, Jungkook says and scoops a good handful out of the bowl. Bam left the spot between you and him by now so he could instead scratch at his favourite scratching mat. The sounds of his playing fill the background as you press play on the show again. You rest on the couch in a way which enables Jungkook to lie down between your legs. You put the snack bowl on his stomach and begin massaging his shoulders.
“Mhm yeah, that’s premium”, he says, wiggling happily, “thankies.”
“Tell me if I hurt you”, you say and then no other words are exchanged between you and him as you enjoy the show. You snack, you cuddle, you massage his shoulders and you react to good scenes in the show. It’s truly the perfect evening.
After the episode finished, you stay on the couch to chat about your days. You and Jungkook are facing each other. He is sitting on the sofa cross-legged as he massages your feet because you complained about them hurting.
“By the way, I just remembered”, you say during a moment of nice silence.
“Yeah?”
“Seokjin told me that Jimin was at the diner today and that he told him that Yoongi will bring apple pie on Saturday.”
“This just made my entire night. Yoongi’s apple pie is the best apple pie ever. Sorry baby, yours is amazing too, but I gotta be honest.”
You laugh, “no, I agree. There is no better apple pie than Yoongi’s. And Jinnie said that Joon can’t shut up about how good this session will be.”
“He always says that and then it’s never a lie.”
“I said the same thing.”
You and Jungkook share in little chuckles.
Bam appears by your side, stubbing Jungkook’s knee.
“I think he needs to shit”, he says.
“Yeah, I think so too. His eyes are glassy.”
“Do you need to poop, baby?” Jungkook coos at Bam. The dog huffs out air and leaves the living room for the front door, “okay yeah he does. I’ll take him for a walk, okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll stay here if you don’t mind. My feet are gonna shrivel up if I take another step today.”
Jungkook chuckles, “no worries. I need the movement either way”, he says and gets up. He kisses your forehead as he passes you, “it shouldn’t take too long.”
“Yeah, okay. If I’m not here when you return, I’m taking a shower.”
“Okay. See you later, sweetie.”
“See you, honey.”
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Just like you told Jungkook, you are taking a shower when he returns. He knocks on the door.
“Come in!”
He enters the bathroom and locks the door behind him. He scans his eyes up and down your naked body, but doesn’t say anything raunchy about it.
“How was the walk?”
“Good. I feel human again”, Jungkook says and rolls his shoulders, “Bam’s in his crate already. He totally passed out after the walk. He did so much sniffing, I think it tired him out.”
“He’s so cute.”
“Yeah, he really is”, Jungkook sighs dreamily, "our son."
You chuckle fondly and guide the showerhead over your left arm, “do you wanna join me?”
“Uuh, yes I do”, he coos and begins undressing in little dance moves. It makes you laugh because he is such a dork. 
Now buttnaked, he grins cutely and steps into the shower. He leans in for a little kiss, but you attack him with water instead by turning the showerhead and covering his chest with it.
“Hey”, he laughs.
You snicker mischievously then begin guiding the showerhead over his body to wet him.
“Not cool. I wanted to kiss you”, he chuckles.
“Kisses come later. You’re sweaty.”
“Wow, so mean”, he laughs and turns his back to you so you can wet it as well.
You turn off the water afterwards, picking up his soap to squirt some into his hands.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome”, you say and switch out his soap for yours.
You and he soap yourselves up, going thoroughly to really make sure the day is washed off. You even soap up your cracks, feeling no shame in doing so. It was a little awkward in your beginning phase, because soaping up your intimate places is a very personal thing to do, but these days, you don’t think it’s embarrassing to do it in front of each other. In some weird way, it’s kind of nice to do it in front of each other. You are bonded for life and there are no other people you know as intimately as you know each other. Feeling comfortable in washing even the most personal places in front of each other just means that what you and he have is real and it’s home.
Jungkook takes on the job of washing the soap off your bodies. First you and then himself. He keeps the water running afterwards, guiding it over your body for now to warm you up.
“And now?” he asks.
“We could dry up and watch more Witcher or we could get a little sexy.”
“A little sexy?” Jungkook asks and glances at your tits, “like sexy sexy?”
“Yes, sexy sexy”, you snicker, nudging his chest, “doofus.”
“What? I gotta make sure, I don’t wanna be weird.”
“Cutie”, you say and take the showerhead from him to warm him for a change, “do you wanna be sexy sexy with me?”
“Yeah”, Jungkook nods his head, “yeah, I can be convinced.”
“You can?” you ask seductively.
“Mh-hm”, Jungkook hums and wiggles his brows.
You turn the water off and put the showerhead in its mount for now. You step closer to Jungkook and touch his chest.
“You can get your kisses now”, you tell him.
“Finally”, Jungkook says and grabs your butt with both his hands to pull your body close. He claims your lips in a kiss, purring happily.
“Mhhm”, you hum, burying your fingers in his hair as you get lost in his kisses.
You kiss, you touch, you grope and hug. You stumble, press each other against the tiles, giggle, kiss some more and turn each other on in the process. Most of your shared showers don’t end in sex, so tonight feels extra special. You felt like it. You had such a good day and Jungkook is such a cutie that you just wanted to at least shoot your shot. That Jungkook said yes was the sweetest cherry on top.
By now, Jungkook has you against the tiles with one knee between your legs so you can grind on it as you kiss. He is rolling his hips against you, finding sweet electricity on your stomach as his hard cock moves against it.
Jungkook breaks the kiss to nibble on your neck.
“I love it when you mark my thigh”, he rasps.
“I know”, you sigh. Your lips feel puffy and tender from kissing, “shit Kook, it feels so good.”
“Yeah, it does”, he agrees, squeezing your butt, “my goddess. Gotta love that ass.”
“You’re stupid”, you snicker and moan, “fuck, you feel good.”
“Mhm, yeah”, he sucks a spot of sensitivity to your neck, “so good.”
“Kiss me again”, you say and pull him into a kiss.
And so you do it again. You kiss, you touch, you grope and grind. You moan, sigh, shiver and pull each other closer. You stumble and move around, almost knock the soap bottles over and hit the showerhead hose with your elbow.
You break the kiss again. You are both out of breath and heated up. Jungkook looks at you with heavy eyes.
“Wanna do something fun?” you ask.
“More fun than this?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell me.”
“Wanna get each other off with the showerhead?”
“Yes”, Jungkook furrows his brows, “fuck, your mind. You’ve got the sexiest ideas.”
“I know”, you snicker, “you first. I’ll make you cum”, you say and push him away from you gently.
“Okay”, Jungkook stumbles back, lifting his hands in defeat, “I’m not stopping you.”
You take the showerhead off its mount and turn the water on, checking the temperature with your hand. You lower it then turn it to Jungkook.
“Is that good for you?”
“Yeah, it’s nice.”
“Okay then, get ready.”
“I’m so ready”, Jungkook says and looks at his hard cock.
You place your palm on the upper side of his cockhead and use your thumb to hold it in place. You tilt it and guide the showerhead to his sensitive tip.
Jungkook gasps, taking a wobbly step closer while his cock throbs into the sensation.
“How’s that?” you ask him, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze. 
It is foggy in pleasure. His lids are lowered halfway.
“Good”, he whispers and parts his lips for a soft moan.
“You’re so pretty”, you speak quietly too. It feels right to do so.
“No, you are. Ah”, he furrows his brows, “there. Woah, ah”, and his eyes fall closed before his nose scrunches in pleasure. Another moan rolls off his tongue, his lips stay parted afterwards.
You look back at his cock. The water is hitting him right at his frenulum, reaching parts of his flushed tip as well. His thick vein is pulsating, moving his entire cock on your palm. His lower abs tense and tremble.
“Right there?” you ask, drawing circles.
“Yes, don’t stop. Keep, ah, please keep going.”
“Okay”, you say and try to keep the movements as they are right now. Slow circles with a minimal diameter so most of the water is focused on his sensitive frenulum. He says it’s where the pleasure goes especially deep. There and right on his tip. You don’t want to change the motion for the sake of finding out if his tip feels just as good however. Jungkook sounds so perfect right now. 
“This feels so good”, he moans, touching your shoulder just to run his hand down your arm. He lingers on your elbow, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“It does. It’s so hot, baby.”
“Yeah-ah”, he bites his lower lip and smiles the kind of smile he always does when the pleasure hits just right, “that’s wow, aha”, he laughs breathily and opens his eyes, looking down at his own cock. He follows the showerhead as you guide it over his cock, sliding his hand to the back of your neck.
“Fuck.”
“Good?” 
“Fuck, looking at it…” Jungkook closes his eyes and furrows his brows, “...yeah that’s gonna make me cum. Fuck….baby…”
“Can I try your tip? Just to see.” 
Jungkook nods his head. You guide the showerhead away from his frenulum to instead draw circles on his tip. His cock throbs. He lets out a soft gasp.
“Good?”
“Yeah”, he rasps and rolls his hips, “I liked the other spot more. Please.” 
“Mhm, that’s sexy”, you purr and guide the showerhead back to where you were before, “there?”
“Lower, ahnm it’s good just low- yes! Ah”, he moans loudly, throwing his head back, “there. That’s the fucking spot, holy shit.”
His cock pulsates and leaks. The water washes it away instantly, but the twitchy nature of his cock remains.
“You’re so sexy. Fuck, I’m going insane”, you rasp and feel tingles run all over your skin.
“Baby, you’re making me cum”, Jungkook gets out and squeaks in a moan, “a-ah”, he clears his throat, “sorry, voice cra-ah-ack. Ah fuck, ___ holy shit.” 
You snicker, “you’re cute”, you say and draw a little heart. And another one. And one more for good measures, “and sensitive.”
“Yeah I was close”, he says and scrunches his nose, “this is gonna feel so. So ah. So good”, Jungkook stutters and rolls his hips, “stay there. There. Baby, please.” 
“There?”
Jungkook moans loudly, scrunching his face.
“Yeah, right there”, you rasp, “you’re such a pretty boy, getting your pretty cock all clean and nice for me.”
“Fuck, oh fuck.”
“So pretty. You’re such a pretty boy with the prettiest cock.” 
“Now”, Jungkook gets out and moans, convulsing in his high. He spills all over his tummy and your hand, but the water washes it away instantly. He wobbles, finding support by holding your shoulder, “I was right, it feels so good”, he whines and reaches down to play with his own tip, “oh god, ____. Ah!”
“You’re so hot. So fucking hot”, you moan with him, feeling your own knees buckle. There are only a few things hotter than watching your husband orgasm. You could fucking do it for hours. It’s addictive, especially when he’s wet from a shower and his knees are wobbling like crazy. 
“Woah”, Jungkook gets out and slacks against you, dropping his head on your shoulder as his arms close around you. He audibly gulps repeatedly, nuzzling his nose into your skin. His cock is squished between your tummies, throbbing slowly. You hold the showerhead behind his back for now, letting the water hit the tiles.
“Liked it?” you ask him, tracing his spine.
He nods his head and exhales shakily, “holy fuck.”
You giggle, “you’re cute. I’m happy you liked it.”
“Yeah, I did. Seriously wow”, he exhales happily and lifts his head, giving you a goofy grin, “you’re the best ever. Thank you.”
You do a little curtsey, “you are very welcome.”
Jungkook laughs and gives your waist a little squeeze. His eyes lower playfully, he licks his lips. You feel your heart speed up and your pussy throb.
“Now give me the showerhead. It’s your turn”, he rasps and smirks.
You give it to him without hesitation, parting your legs so he can have access. You keep staring into his eyes, feeling yourself totally lose yourself in him. Jungkook gazes at you, eye fucking you so well that your breath is already shaky even without any sort of stimulation.
“Count to three for me”, he whispers.
“One.”
Jungkook slides his left hand to your hip.
“T-two.”
Jungkook leans down to place a kiss on the most sensitive spot of your neck.
“Three”, you sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation.
Warm water hits your pussy and stimulates your aching clit. You grip his strong upper arms, squeezing desperately.
“Jungkook….”
Jungkook purrs deeply, using his lips and teeth to play with your earlobe. He slides his left hand to the small of your back and tilts your hips with a gentle push, making it so your clit is more exposed to the stream of warm water.
The moan you let out bounces off the walls, but you find no shame in it. On the contrary, you allow another sound to slip, rolling your hips into the sensation.
“Is that nice, mhm?” Jungkook asks in a rasp and his voice tickling your ear.
“Yeah, nice”, you get out, gliding your hands to his pecs. Fuck, his skin is so wet and silky from the water. His muscles are twitching under your touch, his deep purr tickles your palm.
“You’re so sexy like this. Keep touching me, baby. Feel how strong I am, mhm?”
“Yeah…” you sigh, moaning when he tenses his pecs just for you.
Jungkook growls playfully and moves the showerhead closer. You twitch instinctively, feeling your knees shake.
“Wait. It feels weird like this”, you say. 
“Yeah? What do you need changed?”
“Don’t laugh, but I want it like this”, you say and sit down on the floor. You rest against the tiles and prop up your feet, parting your legs. 
“This is so hot”, Jungkook says and kneels down in front of you. He scoots close and gets comfortable with his legs crossed. You place your legs over his’, propping your feet up on the floor behind him. Like this, you have skin on skin contact and Jungkook is facing you head on. He leans in for a kiss, breaking it by gently nipping on your lower lip.
“You’re sexy”, he rasps and guides the showerhead to your pussy.
You jolt up, arching your back.
“Woah.”
“Good?” 
“Can you, ah, use your fingers to spread me?”
Jungkook nods his head and uses his left hand to part your folds for the water. Trembles shake your legs, your hips roll into the sensation.
“Fuck yes, ah like this.”
“This is so hot. I love this”, Jungkook rasps and switches his gaze to your pussy. He licks his lips, wiggling his hips in desperation. You are so spread for him and the water takes such pretty paths along your pussy. He makes sure to bundle the stream onto your clit area. You already look so swollen, especially now that he is keeping you spread, “you look so sensitive, baby.”
“Your thigh”, you mewl and it’s enough for Jungkook to understand that grinding on his meaty thigh brought you just as close as your stomach did him.
“Fuck, so hot”, he growls and spreads your pussy more. He draws lines up and down your clit, listening for your reaction. 
“Jungkook, baby”, you moan, rolling your head back.
Thud.
It falls against the tiles. Jungkook looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, a droopy smirk curls your lips.
“Does it feels good what I do?” he asks in a soft spoken voice. 
You nod your head.
“Should we try circles too?”
You nod your head again.
Jungkook changes the lines for circles, sending trembles through your legs. 
“It’s that. Ahng”, you scratch your nails over the tiled floor before grabbing your own thighs for support, “that. It’s, it’s that. Ah, fuuck….” you open your legs further, panting heavily as your back arches off the wall.
“Fuck, this is hot. I’m going insane”, Jungkook confesses in a raspy voice and his darkened eyes flitting back to your pussy. 
“Don’t stop please. This feels so good.”
“I won’t, baby”, he promises you and leans in for a kiss. He manages to place one on your jawline, ending it with a little suck. 
“Ah, mhm, ah”, you let out and writhe, “it’s soon.” 
“Yeah? So hot. My pretty girl with her pretty pussy. It’s so sexy how she’s getting all wet for me.”
“Keep talking, holy fuck.”
“Mhm, my pretty girl. You’ve got the prettiest pussy, baby”, Jungkook rasps and swirls the showerhead just how you need it, “my prett-”
“Now!” you fall into his words as your high hits you. Sit up in reaction, grabbing Jungkook’s arm for support as the only sound leaving you is a throaty “ngn.” 
“Baby”, Jungkook moans with you, staring at your throbbing pussy obsessively. She is pulsating so much.
“Holy fuck, this is actually making me squirt. Ohgod. Urgh”, you moan and groan, convulsing uncontrollably as the intense stimulation of the water makes you squirt. 
“Holy fuck, baby. Holy fuck”, Jungkook growls, gawking obsessively. The water washes any kind of proof away instantly, but the way you grab him and shake, is enough to let him know that you weren’t bluffing. The showerhead is making you fucking squirt all over the shower floor and it’s Jungkook’s doing. 
“You’re a fucking goddess. Holy shit, I’m going insane”, Jungkook moans and helps you ride it out until you push away the showerhead on your own.
You drop against the wall, letting your head tangle tiredly.
“No more. Holy fuck”, you croak and writhe, “wow…” 
Jungkook, who is still keeping you spread with his left hand, uses his pointer finger to rub your clit. He gets as far as to lightly brush his the pad of his finger over it and then you already flinch in overstimulation. Your legs fall closed as best as possible, your eyes open and beg him to stop.
“Seriously don’t. I’m so-” you twitch and flinch as Jungkook does it again. 
As gently as possible. But you are way too overstimulated, so it felt as if he was using his entire force.
“Kook”, you both moan and complain, “stop it, I’m too sensitive”, you say in a laugh, reaching between your legs to pull his hand away.
Jungkook laughs and lets you. He holds your waist instead, closing in so he could claim your lips in a smiley kiss. 
You kiss him back, but soon push him away gently. You slap his chest with both hands, barely using strength for it.
“You’re fucking awful. My clit’s sensitive”, you chuckle.
“Sorry, it was too tempting not to”, he snickers, “you know I love it when you’re like this.” 
“I know. Too much unfortunately. One day I’ll accidentally kick you ‘cause you activated some sort of reflex. Seriously.”
Jungkook laughs. You laugh. You fall into a giggly kiss again, ending it with a mutual “mhm” and a stub with your noses. 
You rest your forehead together, keeping your eyes closed.
“So this was amazing”, he whispers 
“Yeah, it was. Exactly what I needed tonight.”
“Definitely. I feel so good. You?”
“Me too, yeah. Although, two things.”
“Yeah?” Jungkook is already snickering.
“My tailbone is starting to hurt and I’m getting sleepy.”
He chuckles and pecks your lips.
“Let’s actually dry ourselves, do our routines and then go to bed?” he suggests.
“Sounds like a deal. Snuggles later?”
“Snuggles definitely later. Oh hell yeah, you can bet on it”, he says, making you giggle.
“You’re cute. Now help me up, I’m ruined, seriously.”
Jungkook laughs, “hold onto me. Your strong hubby will help you.”
“Wow, I married the strongest person ever. My hero”, you joke, looking into Jungkook’s sparkly eyes as you and he once again share in giggles and laughter. 
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