#not enough to cause hearing damage but enough to make that shit nice and loud to do it justice
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Beyond Their Broken Shadows Chapter 12: Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader
TW: sexual harassment, eventual smut, sexual assault, mentions of death, mentions of self harm, drug use, underage drinking, bullying. Smoking. masturbation.
*Let me know if I missed anything.*
Master List
The haze of sunrise crept through the window. It burns my eyes as they flutter open. I adjust to the morning light. A heavy weight holds me in place. I peer over my shoulder. Eddie’s hair is splayed across the pillow. Quiet snores pass his slightly parted lips. He looks peaceful. I sigh in content, snuggling closer to his naked form. His arm comes to life, pulling me tighter. A deep exhale falls across my shoulders, leaving goosebumps along my skin. His lips pepper my shivering skin. I feel his grin growing. A low chuckle escapes breathlessly from him. It vibrates my body. I release a breathy laugh.
“Good morning.” I mumble into the sheets.
“Shh.” He squeezes my waist tighter, causing a small squeal to escape my throat. “Sleeping.” He mumbles against my bare shoulder, placing another wet kiss.
I giggle, succumbing to his grasp. I nuzzle closer. My hips rubbing against his. He releases a low groan, bucking his hips into mine. A small moan falls past my lips and into the pillow.
“Eddie,” I whine. “Sleeping.” I tease, peering behind my shoulder as best I can.
I can see his eyes are still shut, but his lips curl into a shit eating smirk. I nudge his erection with my ass, hoping to get a rise from the sleepy metal head. Another groan falls. His eyes flutter, peeking open. I catch a quick glimpse of his big doe eyes. His smirk turns into a full, ear to ear smile. I give my own wide smile.
“Good morning.” I whisper, rolling in his arms so we are chest to chest.
Eddie inches closer to my face. Our lips barely touch, “Good morning Princess.” He kisses me softly, sweetly.
I giggle as we break apart. Our foreheads still touching. Our eyes flutter open every so often, laughing when we catch the other looking. Nothing could be more perfect. Nothing can ruin this moment.
Bang, crash, shatter!
“Nice going Steve.” Dustin’s voice sounds muffled, but is still loud enough for us to hear.
I sigh, burrowing my face into Eddie’s chest. Another round of crashes echo from downstairs. Robin’s laughter follows. Eddie chuckles again, kissing the top of my head. He nudges me, signally that we should go check out the damage downstairs. We roll out of bed, getting dressed. I throw on my (his) Hellfire shirt and some shorts, but no one would be able to tell. The shirt hits my mid thigh, covering the booty shorts. Eddie throws on his jeans and a t shirt he left here a few weeks ago. It may not may not have a cum stain from me using it to get off…
Eddie turns to me. His jaw goes slack, tongue lulling against his bottom lip. My hair is messy. My make up from last night smeared onto the pillows, leaving me in a more natural look. I avert my gaze, avoiding the intense stare. I feel his hands fall on my hips once again. His thumb and forefinger cup my chin, brining it up to look at him. I swallow at his sight. His lips ghost over mine.
“Beautiful.” I swallow his complement.
Another crash from the kitchen breaks our tender moment.
“We should…” I sigh, as another bang emerges. Eddie laughs, pulling me to his side and leads me down the stairs.
It looked like a bomb went off in the kitchen. Flour everywhere. Batter splattered along the counters and part of the backsplash. Dishes scattered about, some broken pieces being swept up by Dustin. Steve is in the center of it. A burning smell fills my nostrils. My legs buckle, nearly collapsing. If Eddie wasn’t holding me up, I probably would have. Robin is the first to see us. She gives a small, awkward smile. She brings a mug to her lips, sipping what looked like a fresh brew. My eyes drift back to Steve. A deep exhale alerts the two boys of my presence.
“Harrington, what the hell did you do to my kitchen?” I bite back as much anger as I could. My eyes continuing to scan the mess.
“It’s called breakfast. And…” he pauses, his attention now towards me and not whatever is burning. “Just a few more minutes and maybe I’ll let you have some.” He shoots a wink. Eddie isn’t a fan of that. He pulls me tighter to his side.
But even the force of Eddie can’t stop me from entering the war zone. I step over the broken dishes Dustin is still cleaning up. I peer over Steve’s shoulder. It smells worse over here.
“Out.” I breath against his neck.
He’s stunned, shivering. I push his shoulder, taking the spatula and pushing him towards Eddie.
“Out. Out of my kitchen, the lot of yuh.” I raise my voice.
Dustin throws the broken dishes away and makes his way out of the carnage. Robin lifts her mug off the counter and heads for the living room. Steve is still stunned, confused. A deep blush still painting his cheeks. Eddie smiles, not moving. I give him a look, raised brow and pursed lips. I watch the color fade from his face, the smirk falls. He follows behind Steve. I turn to the kitchen. I want to scream, but instead I take a deep breath and begin cleaning and cooking an edible breakfast. I don’t even recognize what’s in half the pans I throw in the sink.
After about 30 minutes the room is no longer a war zone. The smell of syrup and bacon fill the house. The four enter the kitchen quietly. I hear their footsteps and chairs being moved around the table. I feel hands wrap around my waist. Eddie’s lips find my neck, kissing it softly as I flip over a pancake.
“Smells good, princess.” Eddie’s hips move closer to mine. I allow my head to fall a little more to the side, giving him better access.
“Dude.” Dustin squirms. “Don’t kill my appetite.” He rolls his eyes. Eddie and I snicker. I peck his lips and usher for him to take a seat.
The table is filled with a platter of bacon, pancakes, a bowl of eggs and some toast with jams and butter. With the table set, everyone digs in. I start cleaning up the dishes while they enjoy their non-burnt breakfast.
“Baby, come eat. Harrington can clean up later.” Eddie shoots a side smirk to Steve, who’s mouth is stuffed full of pancake.
He swallows, “Yeah, Eddie and I can do that.” He shoots back his own smirk, along with a death glare.
I round the table, topping off Robin’s coffee. I kiss Eddie’s cheek, feeling a little stumble starting to grow on his face. “I’m almost done.”
I move around the table, filling up Dustin’s glass with orange juice. My hand falls on Steve’s chair. I lean close to his face, “and you are never allowed in my kitchen again.” I smile through my threat. I hear him gulp down the nerves. I let out a little laugh as I finish the dishes.
Just as I take my seat and start on my plate, there is a knock at the door. I peer around the table. Dustin shrugs his shoulders. He stands first. I follow, gesturing for him to sit back down. I head to the front door, and peep through the hole. It’s a man. He looks familiar, but I can’t quite place where I’ve seen him. I unlock the door and pry open the wooded door. He’s tall, slender with a small belly. His grey suit is a little wrinkled, probably from the drive. He adjusts his glasses as his eyes fall along my body. I wrap my arms around my torso, feeling self conscious.
“Can I help you?” I ask, trying to hide the insecurity.
His bright blue eyes find mine. He clears his throat and steps forward a little.
“Forgive me, I thought I saw a ghost for a moment. You look just like Lottie.” My mother’s nickname falls from his lips so softly, as if he’s afraid say it will conjure her up.
I use to believe that. I would try so many nights after she died. I shake the memory. My focus returning to the stranger.
“I’m sorry. Do I know you?” I ask, a little unsure of myself.
“My apologizes, Y/N. Last time we met, you were pretty distracted. Which is understandable, considering…” he trails a little. His hands fidget with one another. I raise a brow, waiting for him to continue. He clears his throat again. “I’m Charlie Dunbar. I was your parents lawyer. Well, I guess I still am.” He ponders that stipulation for a moment. I shift on my feet, finding the ground interesting until his voice booms another apology. “I hate to bother you on a Saturday, but I was driving through and I have some paperwork for you to sign, now that you’re 18.” He grabs the brief case from the ground. “Happy Birthday, by the way.” He offers a kind smile.
I return an awkward one, ushering him inside. “We were eating. You can help yourself.” I lead him into the kitchen. The others wait to see who I’ve invited in. “We can go over the papers while you eat. My daddy said it’s the best place to conduct business.” I give a sly side smile. Mr. Dunbar gives a knowing look.
“Yes, he did. I remember that fondly.” He gives a mournful smile.
He takes a seat in between Steve and Dustin.
“These are my friends, Robin and Steve.” I point to each, they offer a small wave. Food still stuffed in their faces. “My cousin Dustin.” Dustin studies Mr. Dunbar, closely. “And my…” I pause, smiling, grabbing the chain still around my neck. “My boyfriend, Eddie.” Eddie turns 50 shades of red, but smiles and gives a wave.
Mr. Dunbar gives a polite smile and wave to each. His piercing gaze finds mine once again.
“I’m happy to see you’re adjusting.” His voice is soft. I nod, filling a plate for him and offering it to him.
As he takes the first bite, he pops open his brief case from the floor.
“Now,” he starts, swallowing, “That’s your mother’s cooking right there.” He smiles, clearing his throat and pulling out several documents. I take my own bite, chewing and listening.
“Now that you are 18, according to your parents last will and testimony, you are entitled to your inheritance.” He takes another bite of bacon, sifting through papers. My chews become slower.
“Alright, let’s see.” Mr. Dunbar swallows another bite, finding the paper he needs. “Here we are.” He mutters to himself. He hands me a three page document.
“We’ll start with property. Your parents had three total. The trailer, the house in Connecticut, and the one of Peach Tree road.” I pause my reading, peering up at him.
“No,” I argue. “My daddy sold that property.” I quirk a brow. Mr. Dunbar, swallows around bite, shaking his head.
“He tried to. Had a friend of ours put it up, but he couldn’t go through with any of the sales.” His voice drops. “He loved that house. Built it with your mama.” He sighs, sipping some water next to him. My eyes fall around the table. I feel Eddie reach for my head under the table. I take it.
“All the properties are paid off. They are also being taken care of. Cleaners come by every two weeks, that’s also paid for.” He instructs, making sure I understand that I’m not acquiring debt.
“I just need you to sign at the bottom, and then those deeds will be in your name.” Mr. Dunbar hands me a pen. I drop Eddie’s hand, taking it.
I finish reading and sign the papers. I hand them back to Mr. Dunbar.
“Excellent. Now the car is already in your name and fully paid off, so no need to worry about that.” He says, mostly to himself. He takes another bite, shifting through more papers. Apologizing for the delay, “it’s mixed in with the will.” He says in a dry tone, focused on the task at hand.
“Here we are.” He announces to the room, pulling another three page document. Mr. Dunbar suddenly becomes aware of who’s in the room. He swallows, handing me the papers. “Now, the top page outlines the basics of where the money comes from, and the rest is just adding detail.” He nearly whispers. My eyes find his. They are shifting around the table. I follow his eyes. He clears his throat.
“It’s fine. They’re nosy and will find out at some point. Especially that one.” I point to Dustin, lightening the mood.
“Hey!” Dustin sounds offended, but he knows it’s true.
Mr. Dunbar exhales a chuckle. His focus returns to me.
“Basically, without divulging numbers,” he mutters, his eyes shift to Dustin. Dustin shrugs his shoulders, offended again. “You have the two life insurance policies, the settlement from both court cases, and whatever they had in their bank accounts.” I open the first page. The number doesn’t seem right—or real. I raise a brow, folding the paper so Robin and Eddie can’t read it.
“Yes, it’s a real number.” Mr. Dunbar reads my shocked expression. “Just sign on the last page and then take this to your bank or cash it or whatever you see fit.” He hands me an envelop. I pop it open and see a check. That number written in two different ways. It still doesn’t seem real.
I read through the papers, sign and tuck the envelop in my lap. Robin and Eddie’s finger tips touch mine. The two look at each other, pulling away, blushing. I roll my eyes.
Mr. Dunbar takes his final bite, wiping his mouth. “That’s it. If you want to sell any of those properties give me a call. I have a friend who can help.” He hands me his card. I tuck it under the envelop.
“Thank you, Mr. Dunbar.” I’ve grown numb to those words, thank you. I’ve said them so many times, it seems ingenuine.
He gathers his papers, filing them away in his suit case. He stands, I join him. I follow him to the door.
“I wish I didn’t have to do this. Your parents were dear friends.” He sighs, swallowing his tearful confession. “Please let me know if there is anything I can ever do for you.” He offers his hand to me. I take it. “Steady, like your father’s.” He smiles and leaves. I grasp the envelop tighter, making my way back to the kitchen.
My eyes find the four cleaning up the dishes, acting as if they weren’t listening to mine and Mr. Dunbar’s conversation. I roll my eyes, placing the envelop on the counter. I help them clean.
“You should eat.” Eddie wraps his arms around my hips, leading me to my seat. I fight him.
“I’m not hungry.” I mutter, pushing out of his grasp and turning to the sink, helping Robin wash the syrup off the plates.
The door opens a few minutes later. Claudia’s tired voice rings out.
“Good morning kids.” She rounds the corner to the kitchen and sees the slue of teens cleaning up. “Oh, at least you all were responsible.” She gives a warm smile. Steve, Robin and Eddie nod, awkwardly smiling back.
Claudia steps over to me, placing a kiss on my cheek. “Happy birthday.” She whispers in my ear. I mouth another thank you, focused on the sticky substance. Claudia goes to the counter, setting down her purse. She sees the card, she sees the envelop. Her eyes burn into the back of my head. I spin around, noticing what’s in her hand. She mumbles something I can barely make it out. I think it was, “I told him to wait.” But I can’t be sure.
“Y/N,” she starts, but I know where it’s going. I dry my hands and head towards the living room. She follows. “Did someone stop by?” She asks, already knowing the answer.
I sigh, sitting on the couch. “Can we not do this right now?” I beg, not wanting to deal with any of it.
She takes a deep breath, joining me on the sofa. She places her hands in her lap. The envelop and card wrapped in her manicured nails.
“Y/N, I’m sorry. I wanted to be there when this happened.” She admits softly. Her eyes focused on her hands.
“It’s fine.” I mumble.
“It’s not. I don’t care what anyone says. You’re 18 and you shouldn’t be dealing with this alone.” Her voice grows a little louder, a little more angry.
I know she isn’t angry with me. She’s mad at the situation. I stay silent. I feel her eyes on me again. She scans my body.
“Is that Dustin’s shirt?” She asks quietly.
My eyes widen. Fuck. One of her hands reaches out to grasp the chain around my neck. She studies the ring. I slowly lift my gaze to hers. Her brown eyes are wide. I swallow, trying to figure out what to say. She beats me to it. Claudia rolls her head towards the kitchen. The group of four disburse quickly, acting innocent and not like they were just listening. She smirks, noticing Dustin’s Dungeon Master is still keeping an eye on me. She clicks her tongue rolling her head back towards me. She gives a knowing smile.
“So, Dustin isn’t the only one hanging out with the Munson boy.” She licks her lips, hanging on the word boy for a few beats.
I stay silent. I know she’s teasing. I know she rather lighten the mood.
“Hey,” she tilts my chin back to hers. “I’m happy for you. I know your father would have a different opinion,” she chuckles softly, tears filling her eyes. “But they would be happy to see you happy.” She admits, a tear falling down her cheek.
I look behind her, towards Eddie. He spins around, making himself look busy.
“You should get some rest.” I help her up, taking the envelop. Claudia says her goodbyes and heads to her room.
I fiddle with the envelop. My mind racing. Eddie’s voice breaks my trance.
“You okay princess?” He cups my cheek. I lean into his touch. I nod, lying. He can tell. “Wanna get out of here?” He asks softly into my ear, kissing the lobe.
I cock my head to the side, staring up at him. I nod my head. I pull away, racing up the stairs. I drop the envelop on my way up. Dustin is the one to grab it.
“We shouldn’t.” Steve says.
Eddie, Robin and Dustin give him a confused face, before focusing on the check inside.
“How many zeros is that?” Robin asks. Her mouth watering at the amount.
“It’s not a real number!” I call to them, scaring them as I reemerge from upstairs.
I grab the check and toss it into the duffle bag.
“When I said get out of here, I meant more like going to my trailer for a little bit, baby.” Eddie gives a confused smirk.
I shake my head. “I’ll be back in a few days. I’ll see you at school okay?” I kiss Eddie’s cheek. “If your mom asks, I’m at Robin’s” I tell Dustin, ruffling his hair.
“Whoa, wait princess. Where are you going?” Eddie grabs my arm, stopping me before I can get out the door.
I look at him. There is a fear in his eyes. I exhale, “Home.”
#eddie munson#eddie#dustin henderson#steve harrington#robin#stanger things#stanger things season 4#Smut#oc
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MOVIE DATE
PAIRING: Hwang Hyunjin x Manager!M!Reader
GENRE: Angst, Fluff
WARNING: Hyunjin being a jerk
SUMMARY: You boyfriend, Hyunjin took you out on a date to watch your favorite movie.
You sighed in exhaustion and as if the world was trying to test you, a fast running bicycle came your way causing you to jump to the side, so fast that you forgot about the takeouts you had in your hands and at a blink of an eye the neatly boxed items fell to the ground, all the food now spilled on the floor with your eyes widening in fear. "Shit!" You yelled out and tried to get back to the restaurant again, but as soon as you got there the line was already long and it'd take you ages to get to the counter to order, again.
You were at your way to your work with your phone squeezed in between your shoulder and ear as you talked to your co-manager on the other line who seemed agitated for your tardiness, while you tried to balance the foods you were made to order. "Yes, sir. I'll make sure that won't happen again." You told the male before the call was cut short when he decided to hang up all of a sudden.
Looking around, you saw a chinese restaurant that had the smallest line, so you went there and bought the food there, even though the orders of the group was not exactly what they wanted for you to buy. You just couldn't go back empty handed.
After a few minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the venue of the fansign event and got there just in time before Stray Kids were called to the stage for their activity to be done, but the moment you got there you saw that the people present were already eating their food away. They noticed your presence entering the room whilst their head turned to look at you. "I... Good morning, everyone." You greeted them. 'Guess their manager got their food delivered.'
You didn't get a reply, except from the group who was more than happy to see that you had food on your hands. "Hyung! Thank God. I was starving." The group's youngest, Jeongin said as he helped you put the foods down on the table. "You're seriously a life saver."
You smiled at him giving him a muttered thanks that earned you a smile from Jeongin. Honestly speaking, Jeongin was the second best person you ever liked in the group, the first being Lee Felix since he was the only person to ever approach you on your first day since he was able to see how much you were so nervous. Felix was also one of the members who taught you korean, the other being Bang Chan. You had always knew the group back then, and now and you were damn thankful that you got the opportunity to be in their circle.
Knowing how young you were to be working for them, they treated you nicely, not because they needed to, rather cause it was in their nature to be caring. Well, at least except one person. You were the closest to Felix who treated you like his personal manager and a friend as well, going out on friendly dates with you to the park, dog cafés, just anywhere Felix would find interesting to visit.
Who's the person that seemed irritated whenever you were around you ask? Why, the one and only visual king, Hwang Hyunjin. He doesn't actually treat you bad, but the way his eyes would always turn dark or displeased when you show up in his line of sight made you feel so small and felt totally unwelcomed. That was then, apparently, since today the male looked a little too quiet and didn't even bother to look at you. Believe me or not that's actually the kindest thing he's done to you.
You would try to go to him to try and talk to him, worried by his silence. You just furrowed your brows and sighed completely aware that no matter how much you try to talk to him he won't even dare to acknowledge you being there for him.
"M/n, are you just gonna stand there? Come and eat." Chan told you, but you just politely declined his offer with the shake of your head before telling him that you had just taken your breakfast and that you were full, more and you feel like your stomach's gonna burst. "Hm, suit yourself, but I'll be leaving mine untouched, so you can eat it when you get hungry, yeah?"
"You're so kind, Chan." You gave him a smile that got Chan smiling also showing his deep dimples that you could just dive in it anytime soon.
"Hey, hey, hey! We've known each other the longest. Why do I still have to call you 'hyung' and M/n doesn't?" Jisung, one of the group's rapper, pouted with folded arms as Chan chuckled before ruffling the kid's hair that Jisung angrily shook off.
"Well, since he's not that spoiled, unlike you." Chan answered Jisung who gasped dramatically. "And he also gained my permission, so—"
"Whenever or not he's around, is he the only person that ever comes into your mind?" That all too familiar voice spoke out, all your heads turning towards the person. He scoffed and stood up with a smirk on his face, probably in disbelief that the whole group was talking to you and always thought about you. "I mean, come on. There's gotta be something else to talk about other than this... person." You felt his eyes look at you while your eyes stared at him with rising anger. "There's sports, other artists, songs, music, so many and you chose to pick him as the topic of your talk."
"Hyunjin, that is very disrespectful." Chan gritted out, but Hyunjin knew better than to listen or to even stop.
"I'm really not, hyung." Hyunjin's smirk grew wider eyeing you with a suspicious look on his eyes. An idea popped in his head as he opened his mouth to talk. "But, if you want to, I could show you how disrespectful I can get." Without any warning, he took the take-out container and bottled drink in his hand and gave you no second to react as he poured all of its contents onto your head with a loud gasp coming out of you. "There. I'll call it a masterpiece even."
"Hwang Hyunjin!" Bang Chan's voice boomed through the whole room a still smirking Hyunjin turning around to face the older male who was fuming with anger. "You—"
"Chan!" You called out to him before things got a little out of hand. For pete's sake their going to just fight because Hyunjin had made a mess of you? You were not even worth the fight. "No. I'm fine. I can just quickly change, that's all. I'll be right back and I better get no reports about you two fighting." You told the two, Chan rolling his eyes.
You got out of the room and ran as fast as you can to the nearest restroom, cleaning yourself as soon as you arrived. Times like this you would immediately bawl your eyes out, but with the constant behavior that Hyunjin showed to you, you grew used to it. Heck, you even sometimes feel that the other boys only act like they liked you being there and when you weren't, they'd stab you behind your back. "Goodness, why won't this get off."
"Need help?" A raspy voice came from the entrance of the restroom, turning your head around to see Felix leaning himself on the door frame with his arms crossed, then untangled them to let his hands rest inside his pockets and stepped inside as you smiled at him. "Do you need more tissue?"
You shook your head at him, your attention back on your stained favorite shirt wiping them clean with the tissues the place's restroom owned. "Nah, there's plenty here. Besides, I'm all dried up now." You said and showed yourself to him, Felix knitting his brows in worry.
He seeped air through his teeth and cocked his head to the side, unsure if you should be wearing that now dirty shirt when you'd be with them during the activity the whole time. "I don't think you should be wearing that."
"Why? It's my favorite sweater." You chuckled half-heartedly.
"Yeah, I know, M/n, but it's dirty. Plus, I think it gets pretty uncomfortable seeing that stain on your shirt and it gets sticky. Yeugh." Felix pretended to barf which got you laughing softly. Felix, though not trying to be funny, whatever he does it always seemed so funny to you.
"Fine, fine. I'll go change, the problem though is that I didn't bring an extra shirt with me today." You told Felix scratching your nape.
"Really? Well, I guess we have to borrow from one of the group's." Felix suggested, but your eyes grew sizes bigger upon hearing that and waved your hands.
"No way, Felix! I have already done enough damage, I can't afford to borrow a shirt from one of the members, or to you even." You told him, but it all fell on deaf ears as Felix refused to listen. "I'm just trouble, Felix. You don't have to worry about me."
Felix hummed with two fingers pinching his chin gently. "Yeah, I don't think so." He took your wrist and started to drag you back to the dressing room. "Come on, I know there's someone willing to let you borrow a shirt." You just sighed, knowing that Felix won't even dare to change his mind when he had already set them on something.
Alas, as you two got there, none of the members even had a spare shirt to let you borrow. They were very willing and even tried to look around if there was anything, but to no avail. Although, there was one last person you didn't ask. "Hyunjin. You were the cause of this mess, you let him borrow your shirt." Felix sternly told the older male who pilled his brows together.
"What?! No way! Are you telling me I'd offer to do something for that guy? No!" Hyunjin retorted making Felix growl.
Felix was so ready to throw punches at the male who didn't seem to be bothered by the situation, but you just put a hand on Felix's shoulder and assured him. "That's alright, Felix. My sweater was thick enough to not get my undershirt wet. Although, I'm grateful for your effort." You smiled at him and sighed.
Just in time, you heard a call from one of your co-manager that the group was already being requested to be at the stage right now. You gave them an encouraging smile as they all did the same. "Alright boys. It's time to go out there and meet millions of your fans."
The group all shouted, excluding Hyunjin, hurray and hurried out to get on stage, you following behind after you were able to discard your sweater, leaving you only on your black t-shirt. You shivered at the cold now that you were left with a thin clothing that wasn't appropriate for the type of weather you were having and not mention that the place was fully air-conditioned.
Your shaking was not too evident, but one of the members, Seungmin, was able to notice it. Feeling pity he made his way to Hyunjin and tried to convince him. "Jinnie, M/n's cold. Please lend him your jacket, at least. He'll get sick if he continues to get exposed to the cold."
"Better for him."
"Hyunjin, please... Besides, you're already wearing thick layers of clothes why not let M/n borrow." Seungmin reasoned out and solemnly knitted his brows to persuade the male, Hyunjin rolling his eyes at his bestfriend and huffed before taking his jacket off of him and handed it over to Seungmin who silently squeaked. "Thanks, Hyunjin." Hyunjin brushed it off with a 'whatever', the younger of the two jogging his way towards you and gave you the jacket he got from Hyunjin. "I noticed your shivering, so I want you to take this jacket and no, you can't say you can't accept it."
You nodded your head at him and took the jacket from his hands. "Thank you, Seungmin."
"My pleasure." He smiled at you with those puppy dog like smile. He skipped back to reunite with his group while you put on the jacket that Seungmin offered you. You were still in thought though how Seungmin was able to convince Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket. You knew Hyunjin owned the jacket since he wouldn't let them go since the moment you arrived.
You noticed how the jacket was too big for you, since the sleeves of the piece of clothing only let your fingers peek out through the holes while the flaps reached further down your hips, but it totally felt cozy and smelled like... Hyunjin. How do you explain it? You don't even know where to begin. It was him. The reason why you wanted to work with Stray Kids. You didn't want to look like you were some type of stalker, but all you ever wanted was to befriend Hyunjin.
The befriending process didn't go the way you actually thought it would go. Everytime his eyes met yours or you heard his voice you'd get all flustered and so nervous that your tongue always gets tied, the words you want to tell him gets trapped inside your mouth. It all started to be just an admiration towards the slightly older male until your determination to become his friend gradually became an unknown feeling towards Hyunjin, until realizing later that you actually liked the group's rapper, despite all his bad treatment towards you.
Back to reality, you hugged yourself and took in the wonderful scent the artist gave off until one of your co-worker nudged you. "Hey, stop sniffing the clothes. You totally look like a sasaeng."
"W-what? I wasn't sniffing anything." You denied it earning an eye roll. Later, you heard the whole place bursted into shouts of joy and excitement as Stray Kids made their appearance on the stage greeting all their fans inside and outside of the place. They all took their turns taking the mic to express their happiness and gratefulness to their ocean of fans that filled up the whole place.
Soon, the group was seated at a long rectangular table that was a perfect fit letting all the members seat on their respective seats. There were chairs as well settled in front of the table with each settled across a specific member.
You were appointed to keep guard and stand behind Hyunjin, in any case of fans throwing shade at him or any forms of harm or hate towards the member who had just been caught up in a supposed bullying rumor.
The line started to form as people who were present inside the place took their turns to talk to each member and get a sign from them. So far, you could only wonder how paranoid the company was to keep you on guard of Hyunjin when all these people here are Stays and they wouldn't do such thing to throw hate to any members in the group. Right?
The line was still too long to be gone in just minutes making you sigh, hearing your tummy rumble hoping that no one heard that. You now finally regret not eating that noodles that Chan offered you, the hunger finally hitting your system as your tummy continued to grumble. You pursed your lips and forced your eyes closed while you brought your head down in embarrassment. 'Fuck... why now?'
After a short while, the line was starting to get shorter and shorter, you thanking the heavens for the fast passing by of the time. But, the moment you least expected to happen happened. You felt a harsh tap on your legs and another and another after it finally took your attention, getting a little shocked that the action was done by the person who hated you the worst. "Take it before I change my mind." He told you. You complied and bowed at him politely as he tuts his tongue. "Who would even think of going to work on an empty stomach?"
'You... poured it on me?' You thought then shrugging it off before you looked at the treat offered to you by Hyunjin. You wondered what type of bread it was and hesitated, although Hyunjin's back was facing you he was able to sense your hard time on trying to eat what he gave you.
"It's not poisoned, M/n." He whispered as he signed the album that had his photo on it, then looking up at the fan who would like to talk to him.
Their talk wasn't audible to you, but you opened the packaging of the nicely wrapped pastry and bit on it with your body facing the wall so your back was turned against the people to cover yourself while you ate. One of your co-manager did notice your unwanted behavior and stomped his way to you and took the baked good from your hands and threw it to the ground to step on it and crush it good. "What do you think you're doing, L/n?! You're being inappropriate right now." He gritted out to you with a small voice almost like a whisper so no one else would hear you two. You bowed your head subtly before a hand was placed right below your chin as you looked up at him confused. "Spit." He ordered, referring to the food you were chewing.
You nod your head and spit out the food that was in your mouth into his hand while he picked up the wasted food and left, then threw it all at a trash can. "Fuck." You sighed as you held your chest and slowly turned around to face the non-existent line, the group now interacting with their fans.
Just looking at them now, you were able to remember when you were the one who was there seated at the chairs shouting out the name of the person you would call as your bias, which is no other than Kim Seungmin. At least, when you still didn't take the job to be one of the group's manager. Usually, it would only take one manager to manage the group, but why did this group require another one? You questioned yourself. It was all unexplained to you, but all you gotta do was to just be glad that you get to be friends with the people you see as your role models.
"Hyunjin-ah! When did you start trading jackets with your manager?" The question came out as a shout that got everyone laughing, including the group. You were only able to chuckle knowing that it was Seungmin who convinced Hyunjin to let you borrow his jacket.
Hyunjin didn't get to answer the question, when another fan spoke from the crowd that got every fans' attention. "Are rumors true that you don't treat Manager L/n well?"
Chan furrowed his brows and picked up his microphone. "Where did you get this story?" He chuckled trying to make it sound that it wasn't true and just pure bluff. Chan looked at Hyunjin with the face that told Hyunjin that he should start treating you well if he didn't want the netizens to know about his treatment towards you. "Anyways, it's seriously not true."
-----------
A few minutes later and the event was finally finished and the group was bidding their goodbyes to their fans as they started to walk backstage. You waited for them at their waiting room with a handful of bottled waters for the boys to pick up once they get inside. The door soon opened revealing the group with a tense atmosphere following them that got you so confused. "Hey—"
"Hyunjin. If word gets out about your mistreatment to M/n, that would be a serious damage to our image and to M/n as well, 'cause he's obviously in pain because of you!" Chan yelled at the trouble causing male who only rolled his eyes paying no heed to his warning.
"Atleast, I never went too far as to really hurt him physically." Hyunjin deadpanned Chan growling at his response. Your eyes flickered to Hyunjin, then to Chan not knowing what to do in this situation.
"You are seriously being a jerk right now, Hyunjin." Chan fumed in anger while Hyunjin just continued to act deaf and played on his phone. Chan, giving up, sighed and plopped down on his seat. "Ayayay."
They took turns in getting your glances as you thought of a way to calm the atmosphere. You had already been their manager for a over a year now and this was the only time that Hyunjin ever spoke up to Chan and, to top it off, with sass and without the slightest feeling of being bothered. That was the moment you felt like you had enough. You've had enough with all these things. You were tired of yourself to even think that Hyunjin would finally soften up to you and be his friend. You were wrong to even apply for this kind of job. The group wouldn't be fighting if it hadn't been for you appearing in their lives all so suddenly. "Guys... let him do as he pleases. I'll be the one to take of whatever the netizens hear."
Chan raised his eyes up at you with furrowed brows. "What do you plan on doing? Whatever it is don't do it."
You smiled and nodded. "I won't, Chan." You held up the bottles in your hands and turned on a toothy smile. "Water? Anyone?" They all sighed in relief and got their turns in picking their own bottled water, the last one not being picked up by Hyunjin, so you decided to give it to him. You brought the cold drink to his face making him flinch as he looked up at you. "Thank you for the bread, by the way." You told him and giggled. "I've already packed your jacket in your bag." You informed him and patted his back.
The once crazily terrifying atmosphere now turned into a more comfortable one, the one you always would want to see. You didn't know what got you the courage to speak or blurt out whatever you had in your mind, but you looked at Hyunjin and said: "Hyunjin, can I talk to you privately?" Thankfully, their loud voices was able to distract themselves from hearing your request to Hyunjin who sighed and nodded his head. He stood up from his seat and started to move outside of the room. You followed behind closely, feeling intimidated by the month older's tall figure. "Hyunjin..."
"Cut to the chase, M/n. I don't have much time." He told you as you nod your head in understanding and fiddled with your fingers.
"I know, you'd probably like hearing this, but could I have the permission to quit as your group's manager?" You asked him, his forehead creasing that made him pull his brows together. "I was able to notice what the group had become the moment I became your manager—"
"And do you think quitting would change it?" Hyunjin asked you with a raised brow. "If anything, it'd probably—no, it would break their hearts to know that you quitted. If you do so, you're not only quitting as a manager, but as their friend as well."
"And you're able to say that after you purposely tried to have me fired or suspended from work by offering me that bread?" You sarcastically answered, Hyunjin clearing his throat.
"Well... that wasn't my intention. I didn't even know it'd get you fired." Hyunjin replied making you chuckle.
"Yeah..." You replied with a sad smile. "But, I don't wanna be the reason why you and Chan would always fight. Stray Kids is Stray Kids because they're fun and loving, caring. And I don't want to change that by being around the group." Hyunjin never replied anymore and you sighed. "I'm heading back now." You said and as you started to walk back inside, Hyunjin spoke.
"I wish you never entered our life, at all, M/n." He told you that got your heart broken into pieces. Sure, you admitted that he never liked you even just a bit, but him saying it so bluntly to you, it's like he does really mean it and could only care less. You were about to speak when Hyunjin beat you to it. "If so, I wouldn't be able to garner these undeniable feelings I have for you."
You froze. Were you hearing right? You just cleaned your ears this morning, well you do it everyday. Is your ear trying to play with you? "W-what?"
"DAMN! WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT?!" You gasped with your mouth full of popcorn, your boyfriend, Hyunjin seated beside you at the movie theater. He smiled at you admiring how cute you looked with your shocked expression that was being illuminated by the big screen. "Jinnie! Look, they're gonna kiss! AH!!" As the two actors in the movie was about to kiss, one of the movie's cast bursted out of the door cutting the kiss and earned a few 'oh's and 'I hate you, Chan's. "Chan is such a cock blocker."
"Watch your mouth, babe." Hyunjin told you making you pout.
"It's true, though!" You retorted and Hyunjin could only laugh at your cuteness and honest opinions.
#hwang hyunjin x male reader#bottom male reader#x male reader#bxb#male reader#idol x male reader#kpop#fanfiction#stray kids x male reader#skz x male reader#stray kids#boy group#angsty#skz#skz hyunjin#stray kids hyunjin
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Chapter 3: The Harsh Treatment
Fake Memories
Series Summary: After Y/n is caught cheating on Wanda with Carol, Y/n would do just about anything to get Wanda back into her life. But was it even Y/n’s fault that she cheated? Or was it the new enemy set on revenge?
Chapter Summary: What will happen to Y/n as the team pushes her past her limits?
A/n: I lied, I decided to be nice and post it now. Honestly, the amount of support that I’m receiving from this fanfic has literally made me smile so much. I really love all of you who read and/or comment. You mean the world to me. Let me know what you think. :) (Not my GIF)
Warnings: Starvation, harmful thoughts, curse words, self-doubt, mentions of blood, injuries, angst
Word Count: 5k
Masterlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |
Y/n abruptly woke up at the feeling of pressurized gas coursing through her body. She quickly sat up, unable to see anything in the white fog. The cold feeling only lasted a couple seconds before F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Fire has been contained.” Y/n hugged herself for warmth as she waited for the fog to disappear. This was the 13th time this month that she was woken up with pressurized gas. At first, it was foam but someone in maintenance had changed the system after the 5th time she woke up.
Y/n looked at her surroundings and sighed at the damages to her sheets. There were burn marks along with small amounts of frostbite from the gas. “At this rate, I won’t have money for food.” With a grim face, Y/n got up from her bed and proceeded with taking everything off her bed, a routine she unfortunately started to learn.
Y/n didn’t know when things got worse. If she had to guess, maybe it was after the whole fiasco with Wanda. The team had been on edge ever since then. “They probably thought I hurt her,” Y/n thought at the time, but it was far from the truth. She had wanted to explain herself to the team but dismissed those thoughts with, “What’s the point in trying? I’ll always be guilty to them.”
As for Wanda, the still heartbroken girl didn’t dare to speak to the team about that night. Even she didn’t quite know what happened. Since that night, she only lied to herself stating that maybe Y/n had done something. It would probably remove the guilt she had when she thought of the blood running down Y/n’s face. But even the lie couldn’t repress the truth from her thoughts.
After she collected her bedding, she threw it away in the trash can along with the other damaged beddings. Y/n grabbed her wallet off her night stand and opened it. She couldn’t feel it, but her heart dropped at the sight of the lack of money she had. Only a $20 dollar bill as well as a couple ones were left. She closed her eyes and tried her best to keep herself calm, to try and act like the world wasn’t closing in on her. It was a couple minutes later when she opened her eyes and looked at her wallet again. “This was supposed to last me for the rest of the month.” Y/n rubbed her forehead, feeling the overwhelming stress from her lack of funds.
One might ask, “Aren’t you an Avenger? Shouldn’t you make a shit ton of money.” And at one point, Y/n would say yes, she did. But it all came back to that night. A week after, she had overheard a conversation that went…
“I just don’t understand why you’re doing this to her.” Y/n was about to go around the corner, but decided to wait at the sound of Steve’s voice. “It’s simple Rodgers - unless I have to remind you why we needed to redo the glass in the conference room.” Steve sighed at Tony’s simple minded actions. Y/n could practically feel him crossing his arms in a disapproving manner.
“Well she did work fair and hard for her money Tony - this just feels wrong.” Y/n heard a couple clicks before Tony replied with, “This is for Wanda. Anything to get Y/n out of here by her own means is worth it. If you have a problem with this, you must not care as much for Wanda as I thought.” Steve sighed again seeing as he was morally put in an awkward position. It was either care for Y/n or care for Wanda. “That’s what I thought.” Tony left with a smug look on his face as he clicked more on the screen in front of him.
It didn’t take long for Y/n to see the effects of Tony’s decision. Her pay day was the following day and the overwhelming sense of panic and anxiety rose up within her as she only had $400 to survive until the next pay day, which was a month later. Since then, her food portions have been small to say the least. Y/n learned that she only had enough money for the month to eat at least once a day and even that was cutting it. The dramatic changes to her diet had slowly affected her powers but it recently had an exponential increase.
This was her fourth month of hardly eating when her powers started to flare at night. It has gotten to the point that Y/n couldn’t control them in her sleep leading to F.R.I.D.A.Y having to deal with her fireside. But her powers weren’t the only thing that has changed. If anyone were to actually look, they would see that Y/n had gotten skinnier. Her literal glow was getting duller and duller the more time passed.
However, Y/n refused to feel sorry for herself. The sentence “I deserve this” was burned into her head. The brain tricks she puts herself through even allowed her to convince that Tony's decision was right. That Wanda didn’t need to tell the truth to the team. That Steve didn’t need to defend her. And that the team certainly was allowed to make her feel like nothing. Because to Y/n, if she didn’t deserve this, then why would you possibly treat a person like this? Just why?
Of course, Wanda didn’t notice these changes at all. The girl was trying her best to avoid Y/n as much as possible. She always had exit strategies in place in case she were to be in the same vicinity as Y/n. However, Wanda also didn’t notice that lack of Y/n’s presence. Much to her dismay, Y/n’s efforts were the reason they didn’t see each other much.
What Wanda did notice though was the slow and gradual decline of snacks in her cubby. It left her to question whether Natasha was done doing these small favors for her. But her reports were still getting done.
The red head didn’t have much room to think though as she got slammed down on the mat from the other red head. “Take a ten - you’re distracted and we can’t keep going like this.” Wanda grumbled at another failed attempt to flip Natasha over. Hand to hand combat was one of the few subjects that Wanda hated the most. With the help of Natasha, Wanda got up and walked over to the waters on the other side of the room. She was gulping down the remaining when Natasha’s words caught her off guard. “What happened?”
Wanda cocked an eyebrow while still drinking her bottle, needing more elaboration. Natasha faced Wanda while hundreds of thoughts racked her mind. Luckily for her, Wanda had trained her on how to make them quiet enough that Wanda wouldn’t be able to hear. When Natasha found the right words, she said, “I am not doubting you. I am doubting her…” Wanda closed the bottle and looked around the room to avoid Natasha’s eyes. This had been the first time that anyone from the team had remotely even asked her about that night. To be frank, she hadn’t expected Natasha to be the one to break the ice. Usually it was Steve that would act like the team’s counselor. Guess things change.
Wanda sighed and recollected her memory for the night that continued to haunt her. “One minute, I left to get a drink from the bar. - she said that she needed to go to the bathroom. The next minute, I come back to see her all over blondie.” Wanda’s grip on the bottle tightened at the words she was going to say next. “I thought it was a mistake - that she could have been too drunk that night - b-but her thoughts were so - loud.” Wanda slammed her fist at the table in front of her, tears already falling down her cheeks. “A-a-and I saw everything-”
The broken hearted girl didn’t have much energy left in her to continue. She dropped to her knees and sobbed into her hands. Natasha kneeled beside Wanda. She pulled the poor girl into her arms, trying her best to physically comfort her. But nothing could really make Wanda feel better. What could you say to a girl that saw every moment where her girlfriend has cheated on her? Nothing - you say nothing.
“It’s quite pathetic actually,” Tony said as he spun the rod, causing his player to score in foosball. He was currently versing Steve as the two decided to quietly speak about Y/n’s actions for the past couple weeks. Going on the defense again, Steve shot back but Tony was quick to block. “She’s probably just trying to get her money back.” Steve huffed from the sudden slap shot as well as Tony’s rude words.
For the past couple weeks, Y/n had gone from trying to win Wanda back to trying to win the whole team back. The first thing they noticed was all the completed mission reports and the continuation of it. Clint was the first to jokingly comment, “Bruce must really love mission reports.” But the genius bore a confused look before replying with, “It wasn’t me. Even I haven’t had anything to do in my stack for a couple days.” Bruce had a displeasured look on his face. Clint just assumed it was either he wanted to do his stack of reports or the comment was actually true...or maybe both.
When it was time for the meeting, Clint had asked everyone in the room, minus Y/n, on who was completing the mission reports for everyone. “Well, I’m doing Wanda’s and mine,” Natasha claimed as she sat in her usual spot. No one was able to detect her lie, but then again, Natasha was always good at lying.
Clint was quick to figure out that the only person remaining must have been the person responsible. With a straight forward voice, he explained to the team that Y/n had been completing everyones, besides Wanda’s and Natasha’s, reports. Still, Natasha sat there, copying the confused looks on everyone’s faces. She didn’t care to tell them the truth, it wasn’t worth it. However, the meeting proceeded with little comment on Y/n’s actions. She wasn’t worth the mention.
“What if she actually is trying to say sorry to us?” Steve couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for Y/n, but Tony’s words made the guilt go all away. “Oh - so miss Hydra over here actually wants to apologize - hilarious Steve.” With that, Tony quickly spun the rod and scored the final point, making him win the game. What the two failed to realize was the fact that Y/n had overheard their conversation. She no longer felt hungry for the day and had retreated back to her room, feeling overwhelmingly numb from the confession she heard.
It was a new and different day for Wanda. She had managed to want to try and sit in the common room with her team seeing as sitting in her room no longer gave her the same satisfaction anymore. Scrolling through the tv, she was about to pull up Bewitched when the following words appeared on the screen:
Bewitched is longer provided on Netflix. Please see related tv shows.
“What do you mean it’s no longer available?” Wanda frustratedly questioned. And here she was trying to have a good day. “Sorry kid, I guess Netflix took it off their streaming service,” Clint said as he leaned over the couch. “No why would they do that?!” Wanda said with an exasperated look. Clint simply shrugged, Netflix did have an awful reputation for getting favorites removed or canceled. “No clue, but you could try other shows.” Wanda crossed her arms and huffed at his suggestion. “I was really feeling Bewitched today.” Ruffling her hair, Clint left after saying, “Try to feel for something else.”
However, Wanda had failed to feel anything but angry for the remaining of the day. It wasn’t until she sat in her room for the night, aimlessly finding shows in her room when she noticed Bewitched on her home screen. She quickly clicked on it noticing that all eight seasons are there for her own viewing. Her mood immensely increased for the night as she fell asleep in the middle of season two.
Outside of her room, Y/n had been cleaning up the compound for the night. It was getting harder and harder to clean the kitchen when everything in her wanted to just take a couple of snacks for herself. Her hunger was constantly on her mind as well as the stupid flashes that have sporadically appeared more and more everyday. But she wanted more than anything to prove to the team that she is a good person. Stealing, no matter how minor, was probably the last thing she needed to be labeled as.
When she completed for the night, she returned to her room but paused outside of her door when she heard the Bewitched theme song loudly play in Wanda’s room. A small smile appeared on her face as she walked back into her room and slept on the floor tonight.
“Did it ever occur to you that I love you - like a lot?” The couple were laying in Carol’s room decorated with punk rock posters and pictures of their team. Small plants were placed around the room while Malcolm in the Middle was used as background noise.
“Nah. I haven’t heard you say it in approximately - 10 minutes?” Carol laughed as Y/n glanced at her watch. They laid on their sides as they faced each other, their faces being only inches away. “Well I do.” Carol cupped Y/n’s cheek as she soon grew mesmerized.
There are words to always describe feelings with someone but they all felt overused or incomplete. Because everything felt like this daydream colored borders with warm tones and retro filters as she glanced at Y/n. She felt like she was watching a show that she would never get tired of. Even if the show was in color or black and white, new or old, slow or fast, she would watch just to see her. Just her.
“You do what?” Carol flicked Y/n’s forehead at her response. “Kidding - kidding.” Y/n said as she rubbed her forehead. Carol rolled her eyes and kissed Y/n’s head as she cuddled into her arms, legs tangled within the sheets. “I do love you.” Y/n kissed her hair as she combed it with her hand. “I know,” she whispered, hoping Carol would pick up on the secret reference. Because to Y/n, yeah, she’s worth a whole galaxy.
It was the middle of the night when Steve woke up from a nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Rather than staying in bed to force himself to sleep, he got up and headed to the kitchen for a late night snack.
Heading into the pantry, Steve pursed his lips noticing that Y/n’s cubby had been empty for weeks it seems like. The guilt that was slowly forming inside him kept building and building. Although he knew he could try to do something about it, the loyalty he had to his family - to Wanda. That was something he didn’t want to break.
The relationship with Wanda and Steve was something similar to a father and daughter relationship. Steve had always wanted a kid of his own and Wanda had lost her father. The irony of it all just happened to work for the two. Even though Wanda nor Steve would admit it out loud, they viewed each other as the roles that needed to be filled in their lives. They needed each other regardless of titles.
But then there was Y/n. The troubled girl that made Steve absolutely nervous with how quick her and Wanda seemed to like each other. It absolutely didn’t help Steve’s case when the whole team found out about Y/n’s past. His anxiety had practically skyrocketed. It eventually led to a one on one talk with Wanda about how sometimes we need to protect ourselves before letting people in.
But Y/n was still there. Breaking down Wanda’s walls. So just like any Dad would, Steve watched over. Making sure his girl was always happy and safe. So while Natasha may have refilled Wanda’ cubby and did her reports, Steve had carried Wanda to bed during nights she couldn’t sleep. He made her tea for times that she didn’t want to talk, which was often. He tucked her in at night and cuddled with her when she needed a shoulder to cry on. He was just there.
But so was she. She was there whenever Wanda cried at night. She was there when Wanda would sometimes forget to eat after busying herself all day. She was there to take care of Wanda. She was there when Steve wasn’t. And that meant everything to Steve. So why couldn’t Steve be there for Y/n?
There were a lot of unanswered questions roaming around Steve’s head. Rather than pondering more about them, he walked around the tower, eating a pack of cookies for himself. Just as he was turning the corner, he glanced towards the conference room to see Wanda asleep in front of her reports. However, the more alarming part was the girl that happened to be right in front of Wanda. Steve quickly grew on high alert and observed Y/n’s actions. However, after a couple minutes of harmless actions, Steve forced his shoulders to relax. “She’s just doing reports - calm down,” Steve thought.
But he couldn’t calm down. The guilt had maneuvered it’s way back up to his throat as he actually noticed the pale state of the once bright girl. For someone that had literal fire abilities, she lacked the glow of any raging fire. Feeling nothing but guilt all over, Steve felt compelled to say something - anything. But he froze. He didn’t know what to say.
However, the opportunity soon was lost as Y/n finished everyone’s stack of reports. Steve hid around the corner as Y/n passed him. Hearing a door close was when Steve stepped out of hiding. He glanced towards the direction of Y/n’s room, feeling every need to go to her. But his footsteps led him to Wanda. He picked her up and carried her to her room. Wanda will always be first in Steve’s heart. And nothing could change that.
“We have to stop this treatment Tony.” Steve waltzed into Tony’s lab the very next day. For once, he couldn’t sleep for the remainder of the night. Y/n was all over his mind. The guilt was practically eating him alive.
Tony rolled his eyes at Steve’s dramatic fashion for entrances. “Oh - good morning Tony - how are you - I’m actually pretty good.” Steve rolled his eyes as he stood in front of Tony, a hologram in between the two.
“Cut the crap Tony - I’m being serious.” Steve crossed his arms. This needed to end. “And you think I’m not Rodgers?” Tony was quick to respond, already growing irritated by the conversation.
“This isn’t right - none of this right.” Steve wiped the hologram to finally get a clear view of Tony as he grew frustrated by the second. Tony simply swiped it back, not wanting to deal with the issue. “Well maybe if she just quit - we wouldn’t need to worry about anything. It’s not my fault Fury hired Ms. Hydra - and if he finds out I fired her, he would not allow it at all.”
“But can’t you see that your stupid plan isn’t working? All we’re doing is abusing the girl.” Steve wiped the hologram again but Tony simply walked to a different station and continued his work. Angry with his response, Steve walked around the table and stood beside Tony.
“This needs to end Tony,” Steve said through his gritted teeth. The man was clenching his jaw so hard, it almost looked as if he was going to break his teeth. However, Tony quickly glared at Steve at the mention of his threat.
“Don’t you fucking dare. Can’t you actually see that I’m trying to protect Wanda.” Steve tilted his head at the awful reasoning for his actions. “How is this protecting Wanda? Why are you even trying to protect her?”
Tony slammed his fist into the table, feeling his anger rising by the second. “We - no - I need to protect her Steve!”
“Why Tony? Why?”
“Because I’m the goddamn reason her parents and her country is dead. I’m the reason that everything she ever loved is gone. I’m the reason for her sadness. She, of all people, deserves happiness. And I sure as hell won’t let anyone else hurt her anymore - no more Steve.” Tony didn’t give Steve a chance as he walked out the facility needing a day drink more than ever.
It was lunch time and all Wanda could think about was the need to cook paprikash. She didn’t know when the last time she had actually cooked. And seeing as the majority of the team was on missions, she could actually cook without interruptions or lingering eyes.
Walking into the kitchen, Wanda tied her hair up and started to take out the necessary ingredients for the meal. It was when she was talking the spices out when Vision had appeared out of nowhere, nearly scaring the girl. “Vision!”
Sensing a slight rise in her heart rate and anger, Vision had quickly apologized. “Sorry Wanda.” Wanda shook her head and quickly resumed prepping. “I will try to work on making my presence known. If I may ask, what is it that you’re doing?”
“I’m making paprikash.” Vision’s mind grew curious at the word and quickly searched his database for it. “I see. A traditional Sokovian food.” Wanda didn’t realize it, but she had felt a little annoyed at the synthezoid’s presence. It wasn’t anything he did, but Wanda desperately wanted alone time for herself.
Before she could ask, Vision had said, “Good morning Y/n.” Wanda’s quickly grew wide as she avoided glancing in Y/n’s direction. She hadn’t stayed in the tense position though as Vision announced, “Oh - it seems she had left before saying hi back.”
Feeling ever more frustrated with people’s presence, Wanda was about to ask him to leave but noticed the confusion written all over his face and didn’t hesitate to ask, “What is it Vision?” Vision pursed his lips and contemplated his words. It was visibly obvious to see that he was trying to wrack up what to say. “I think...it’s just…” He sighed knowing that this was going to be a sensitive subject to the witch but knowing everything she's been through, lying was not the best option. “It’s just that Y/n-” Wanda quickly cut Vision off in desperation to know what Y/n had done to Vision. If the girl were to even lay a finger on him, she was sure to deal with it herself. “What did she do? Did she hurt you? I swear-” Seeing her eyes turn red, Vision immediately explained himself. “-No no no. It’s not that, the complete opposite actually.” Wanda’s eyes slowly turned back to normal. When Vision saw that her heart rate was close to normal, he continued. “It’s just that...Y/n’s vitals have been decreasing in a fluctuating matter. Some days it would be a small decrease, but some days it would be a big decrease. Overall, her health has been poor.” Vision looked back at where Y/n once stood. If he hadn’t quickly analyzed her, he wouldn’t have noticed that today’s vitals was record worst. “Although she does have physical injuries, she seems to continue to radiate pain throughout her body even when those injuries have healed. It starts through her head and it spreads like a radio wave through her nervous system. I’ve done my calculations and the leading cause could be migraines...” Vision soon was in deep thought, trying to recalculate just to make sure what he was about to say was correct. “...but it doesn’t make sense.”
Wanda tilted her head. Processing this information was hard seeing as at her darkest moments, she wanted nothing but Y/n to be hurt. She deserved it for all the pain she caused her to go through. But hearing it now? That was a different story. It was like an internal conflict was going through her. Should she even care about Y/n’s health? “What doesn’t make sense?” Vision looked hard into Wanda’s eyes as he said, “Migraines shouldn’t cause her heart to stop multiple times.”
Wanda stared at Vision, processing the information that the love of her life is practically dying. “A-are you sure?” Vision slowly nodded. “However, after some calculations, I do believe she will be okay. She only needs a good source of food for her healing regeneration to fully heal this.” Wanda relaxed at Vision’s words. Although she has been through immense pain through these past couple months, having Y/n gone from her life like that would hurt more than anything.
Before Vision could continue his explanation, F.R.I.D.A.Y stated, “Emergency alert. All available Avengers please head to the quinjet per the request of Mr. Stark and Mr. Rogers.” Quickly, the two headed to the plane as the important part of Vision’s explanation was missed. Little did Wanda know, Y/n would not heal any time soon.
The trio arrived on the quinjet and wasted no time trying to figure out the mission that was ahead of them. There was a serious feel in the atmosphere sensing that this had to be bad. There was no way that it couldn’t have been. Because if it wasn’t, they certainly wouldn’t have invited Y/n to this mission.
Lately, the girl has been assigned to only solo missions. Y/n couldn’t quite remember the last time that she was on a mission with any team member nevermind the fact with the whole team.
“Backup is needed immediately after touch down. Vision and Wanda, meet up with Steve and Sam at the Northeast corridor. Y/n, you are assigned to the entrance,” Tony stated through the intercom.
The feeling in Y/n’s stomach worsened. Not only was she hungry and sleep deprived, she didn’t also have a partner with her. It also didn’t help the fact that the flashes have gotten worse. Y/n couldn’t help but pray for a miracle. After all, they were dealing with the very people Y/n hated - Hydra.
Y/n couldn’t quite tell when things on the mission got to shit. Maybe it was the fact that as soon as they touched down and went to their assigned positions, Y/n received a massive swarm of Hydra agents. It didn’t help that her health regeneration was not at its peak or these agents actually were decently trained. Or was it during the third wave, that was currently happening, where Y/n tested the limits of her body.
Seeing the onslaught of agents coming her way, Y/n decided it was time to test out her new ability. She rapidly swung her right arm, building momentum as the fire within her right side blazed. As soon as the enemies were close, she released a fire tornado in their path. It had managed to take out at least half of the wave, but more and more kept coming.
Pressing her comms, Y/n said, “Can someone send back up my way?! There’s too many for me to handle.” Y/n kicked back the agent that was about to stab her in the back, but was too distracted to the point a different agent was able to cut her leg. “Fuck.”
Y/n quickly released an ice wall that at first glance, appeared to be the same height as the Great Wall of China. She hoped the barrier would give her enough time for her backup to appear. Focusing all her energy on her fireside, Y/n aimed at any agent near her, using her arm as a flamethrower.
However, worry immediately grew when no one had responded to her call within a couple minutes. Before she could request again, Nat had spoken bitterly in the comms, “On my way.” Sighing in relief, Y/n continued to fight off the agents the best she could.
But no matter how hard she tried to buy herself time, it seemed that Natasha was taking forever to come. It had gotten to the point that multiple lashes already appeared. Her healing regeneration couldn’t keep up at all. Not only that, but her body was either giving up from exhaustion or blood loss. It was only during the last couple agents when Natasha had shown up and quickly killed the remainder.
Y/n glanced at the assassin and noticed the lack of any injuries on her and it was as if she barely broke a sweat. “What happened? I almost got killed.”
Natasha glared at Y/n as she responded with, “I helped Bucky and Rhodey on the way, they needed it.” Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat knowing the redhead in front of her had practically lied. If backup was needed, it was always voiced through comms.
Even if Y/n had wanted to confront Natasha about it, she couldn’t. Natasha had already left to head to the quinjet. Y/n simply limped a couple feet from her. When Y/n arrived, it seemed that everyone else was already prepared for take off. Feeling ever more guilty, Y/n simply sat at the closet seat to the entrance that was away from the team. But something inside her broke even more noticing the lack of any questions or concerns from the team in regards to her injuries.
Not even bothering to buckle up, Y/n sulked in her thoughts when she realized, “Why doesn’t anyone care about me?”
Tag List: @halobaby @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog @sighsam
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Can I request a teen mc who is like YUJI from jujutsu kaisen as in they are the vessel of SUKUNA PLSS? Like maybe they can manifest SUKUNA in his curse form as another being as well like megumis dogs? (If you don’t know JJK can you just do a chaotic teen mc? ❤️)
WHEW THIS ALMOST DID NOT GET POSTED SINCE TUMBLR DELETED PARTS OF IT.
So let me tell you: I started reading the manga but have yet to watch the anime 😭 it’s really good though and I’m probably gonna start it this week, but I’m not sure if I’m 100% confident in writing Sukuna. BUT this request was too good to pass up, so if you don’t like it I will write the other scenario instead just let me know!
So for these headcanons, I made it to where MC is Sukuna’s vessel like Yuji, and that they can manifest him if needed. But, I still kept it to where he’s not exactly a good guy with MC’s best interest at heart. Reader is gender neutral and younger than the Bros, so the dynamic is more family instead of romance just a heads up! Hope you enjoy!
TW: Minor cursing, spoilers for Lesson 16 in Mammon’s, Beel’s, and Belphie’s part
The Brothers with Teen MC who’s Sukuna’s Vessel
Lucifer
Was very irritated with this revelation, but still curious
Still annoyed either way though
He already had to make sure that you stayed alive during your stay and not disappoint Diavolo, but now he had to make sure that you kept this curse at bay too!
#GiveLuciferABreak2021
He’s very skeptical of you: not only because of you being a young human but also being a human with essentially a demon inside of you
A very troublesome demon if not kept under control at all times
Honestly Sukuna was like an buzzing gnat who wouldn’t just go away, so Lucifer didn’t see him as a threat personally. More of a nuisance that could grow into a threat if remained unchecked
After you explained the whole situation, he still assigned Mammon to you, but he made sure to personally keep an eye on you too
Your presence was seen as a threat at first, but as time passed, he, along with his brothers knew you meant no harm, but the same couldn’t be said for this Sukuna
He wanted to have faith in you, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. After an incident at RAD with another demon attempting to attack you, your powers (or rather Sukuna’s) came out to play
He saw the markings, the extra eyes, the malice spread on your face, and he then realized just how serious this has become. You were able to gain control back, but the damage was already done. You were so distraught, sobbing before you, trying to apologize and swearing that you didn’t mean for this to happen, all the while Sukuna was laughing, morphing a mouth on your cheek
It was so bizarre to see, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for you. You were such a kind person, always going out of the way to spend time and help wherever you could. You essentially became a part of the family, but he knew that you didn’t feel accepted because of him
After that, your “punishment” was to practice holding control over Sukuna with Lucifer, every day after school (which can just be seen as him checking in on you on a daily basis, and trying out different techniques to make sure repeats of this incident doesn’t happen again). Meaning that you trained on manifesting him at will, instead of him completely taking over
Not gonna lie he’s acting like a proud dad when he sees you making progress and Sukuna just sitting in your head tired of all this positivity lol
Lucifer cares for you, he’s accepted you fully even if you hadn’t for yourself. He wants to protect all of his family (including you), and he doesn’t want to think about what could happen if Sukuna becomes a danger to the Devildom or Diavolo...
Mammon
Is impressed but also low key nervous
Humans are not suppose to be like this, ya know!
He’s not the smartest demon in Hell, but he definitely knows that you can’t summon demons without a pact, and he knows your baby face doesn’t have one with the King of Curses
You had to break down the whole deal, and it made him even more confused and distressed
Was still acting annoyed being your designated babysitter, I mean seriously, just how annoying can you be?!
Just kidding! You guys are totally partners in crime in no time and you both make Lucifer get 2x the wrinkles now
“MC, let the Great Mammon show you how’s it done!”
“Mammon, you’re going to be the reason why we’ll be strung up again for the third time this week.”
“It’s going to be both of your idiots’ faults. Such a pathetic display.”
SHIT HE FORGOT YOU GOT A WHOLE CURSE INSIDE YOU
He HATES whenever Sukuna makes an appearance, whether you call on him or he makes his own special appearance. He’s like a gritty and more sadistic version of Lucifer, minus the style and uptight personality (and honestly the finesse too), which made him 10x the more aggravating
He honestly hates Sukuna in general. Here you are, his MC, one of the only people to stand up and defend him always, struggling to live a normal life because of him. It was bad enough that you got sent down here with no warning, but now you got sent with him, and from what Mammon could hear with the conversations between you two, he wasn’t exactly your BFF
Denies being excited about seeing you perform your cursed techniques, but only because it brings him out (and he guesses it’s a little cool that you know how to do it). But human, you don’t need that lame curse, you got the great demon himself to protect you!
On a darker note, you made Mammon swear to you that if Sukuna took over and you for some reason couldn’t gain back control, that he would protect himself and his brothers first before worrying about you. He hated this even coming up, you should be worrying about what’s the next scheme you guys could pull off, not some weird sharpie colored entity causing problems. But you were dead serious, and you made him promise that if the worst case scenario ever happened, he would make sure it’s taken care of
Mammon realized you were the missing piece to their family. It felt nice to have someone depend on him, to actually treat him with respect and care for him truly. He refused to accept Sukuna as a part of you (really he just acted like he didn’t exist, which he didn’t in his mind), and he refused to let him or anyone else harm you
You’re family now, and he wasn’t going to lose anyone else ever again
Leviathan
Oh look, another normie
Wow, you’re such a normie that you’re even talking to yourself through a manifested mouth on your palm-wait WHAT
You broke it down to him, and you just...stared at you, with a blank expression on his face. Until-
“OMG THIS IS JUST LIKE THE ANIME-“
How ironic lol
He practically had a fanboy overload moment whenever you showed off your cursed techniques to him after he begged asked you countless times
You guys remember that vine with the kid saying, “I have the power of God and anime on my side”? Recreate that while doing your moves and he’ll be in awe and dying laughing at the same time
Will post it to his Devilgram and DevilTube
His envy will start to show at first. How is it that someone boring like you get to have all these cool powers and have an actual king reside in you?? You’re living the Shonen dream and not even grateful for it!
But this reality for him would soon shatter after he saw Sukuna for himself, and the way that he behaved towards you. The way that the curse would just look at with disdain in his eyes just made Levi’s skin crawl. He was made well aware that you were in fact not living the anime dream he thought you were. The look in your eyes reminded him of how he would feel whenever he felt like a scummy otaku, and from that point forward he would find ways to cheer you up
You can plan on having anime marathons, game nights, even talking with Henry (I hc that he can talk and understand aquatic animals) when you get into these moods. Anything that helps him get out of his funks he’s hoping it helps you too. You don’t deserve this type of treatment from anyone, especially someone that even he can no doubt eliminate
You were honestly one of the coolest people that he knows, and one of the strongest too! Not just physically, but mentally too. He can’t imagine what could be going on in your head since Sukuna became a part of you, but he knows that you’re strong enough to overcome anything that he throws at you. And if you had moments where you faltered or doubted yourself, that’s okay! Levi would be right beside you the whole way, doing anything he can to keep pushing you forward
Be the teen anime hero that he’s know you can be MC! You wouldn’t be his Henry if he didn’t have any faith in you, you know?
Bonus: you don’t have to worry about your anime nights being ruined after one night when Sukuna somehow found a spoiler to an anime that Levi was really anticipating became a very visual warning for the curse. Levi convinced you to let him take over, and whatever was said resonated with him because you never heard a peep after that, both out loud and in your head
Satan
Oh he was BEYOND fascinated
We all know how much Satan loves to read and how smart he is, so while you look at your condition as a curse (no pun intended), he saw it as an opportunity
Could you feel this curse coursing through your body? Did you feel stronger? Could he see through your eyes all the time or only when you let him? He had so many questions it wasn’t even funny
Very understanding of your situation surprisingly (but still called you dumb for eating Sukuna’s finger)
Satan would be one of the only people you could really trust when dealing with Sukuna. Yes, you trusted all of the brothers, but if you were really in a bind you could count on Satan to come up with a solution quickly
The only issue was his anger. Everyone knows just how angry he can get, and to avoid him ASAP if you even think he’s getting frustrated. Sukuna knows this too, and will be more than happy to taunt him to truly bring out his wrath. While he does need you alive (for now), it wouldn’t hurt to have some type of fun around here. Plus, this could cause your bonds with these brothers to weaken, and the weaker the bond, the weaker the will to help you keep him at bay and defeat him
But Satan knew better, and you did your best in keeping Sukuna away. He may be the Avatar of Wrath but that didn’t mean he was stupid. However, he did have one slip up unfortunately
You see, he was just having a bad day and already got into a spat with Lucifer, and you sensed that he certainly needed his space. So while you slowly backtracked to your room and from his path, Sukuna decided to be the evil ass that he is, and proceed to provoke him. What finally made him snap was his comment that, “You would be a formidable opponent if you weren’t in your older brothers’ shadow, but oh well. Can’t help who you come from I see.”
It took Beel, Mammon, and Lucifer to properly restrain him from ripping Sukuna (really you) limb from limb, with him laughing manically and you scrambling back in fear. Which called for a very long, detailed family meeting (of course after Satan fully calmed down) that resulted in mediated meetings between you and him for the next month. You felt guilty, you should have done better containing him, but you couldn’t predict whenever he decided to pop up!
But after a long talk, Satan didn’t blame you. He blamed himself for losing to his anger and especially blamed Sukuna. He decided that it was time to get rid of this pest once and for all. Be ready MC, cause once he puts his mind to something, there’s no stopping him
Prepare for your bonding time to be deep into books and practicing new hexes and curses. But don’t worry, it’s not always boring and Satan makes sure that you’re having some type of fun. He’s really doing this to have some sort of protection for you: whether it’s against Sukuna or himself. He wants you to know something besides your cursed techniques just in case they fail for some reason
Will shockingly want you to manifest the curse, one main reason is to obviously collect information on him, the other reason is to test said hexes and curses on him
Can a curse be cursed? Let’s find out
You helped Satan with him realizing that anger isn’t the only emotion that you can feel, and with you being so young, he wanted you to experience life as much as you can. And while you had an extra...passenger with you, he will do his best to make sure that it doesn’t get in the way of you enjoying life. It was nice to see a joyous smile on your face
Also you guys did find a hex that made Sukuna meow for the whole day and it was the best thing to ever happen with him lmao
Asmodeus
Honestly wasn’t really bothered with it at first. If anything, he treated it like hot gossip when you told him in the beginning
One thing he will say though: humans can be so revolting at times. I mean you ate a rotten finger, a cursed, aged, sharp, disgusting- you get the point. He did cringe at that, but everything else was pretty normal besides that
Still talked about your daily gossip, painted nails, the works. But recently, Sukuna’s name has been coming up more and more in your recent convos. Asmo, being quite the messy curious demon, wanted to know more about this curse
He really treated Sukuna like he was just your show and tell act and would want you to bring it out to see how he really was. He was amused with your cursed techniques, but he wanted to see more!
He heard you both talking with one another, and he wanted to see him in person! He hasn’t done anything and you’re among the seven strongest in Hell, so what could go wrong?
So much. So much could go wrong
And so much went wrong
After you manifested him, it went downhill from there. The large amount of control you did show caught his attention, but then it moved to the King of Curses himself. He was very delighted to see him up close for more than a couple of seconds, and took his time admiring his physique up close. It was fun for him, but not for you. Sukuna could feel your will slipping since your focus was being divided dealing with Asmo, so he took this as his time to shine
You had an exhausting day, and you were tired, which he used to his advantage. Asmo started to complain when Sukuna suddenly disappeared, but didn’t have a chance to voice it as your arm suddenly gripped the front of his shirt. He felt himself jolt, feeling his heart pumping. He looked into your eyes and realized that this wasn’t you, this was now Sukuna. The black markings that lined your face along with the new eye color (and the extra pair of eyes) came with a grin that stretched across your face
“What’s the matter? You were so eager to be in my presence, is it not to your liking now that the tables have turned? You claim to be one of the strongest, yet I would be able to kill you just being in this form-Ah, the brat is trying to come back, what a shame. Do me a favor, little Asmodeus, don’t insult me like this again. I am a King, and you will remember that. I might have to pay you another visit and take your heart with me next time to make sure you’re aware of that.”
He didn’t give Asmo time to answer, as his grip loosened and you were back. He saw you stumbling, shook out of his own thoughts and reached to catch you. He knew that this curse was an issue, but he didn’t understand just how serious this was, how serious it had gotten so quickly. The thought of Sukuna didn’t scare him, but the promise of him coming back just for him caused some worry. He wasn’t the weakest, but he didn’t want to hurt you! As much as he couldn’t stand his new found scorn of Sukuna, it wasn’t enough for him to take the chance of injuring you
You didn’t strike fear in him, rather the opposite. To see someone he has grown to care about be the one to try and bring his demise was...saddening. He could just feel his heart breaking at the notion. And if this experience taught him one thing is to be more understanding of what you’re going through
You remembered bits and pieces of the incident, and whenever you asked Asmo about it, he would divulge a tad in what happened, but wouldn’t go into too much detail. He didn’t want you blaming yourself, and he didn’t want you to distance yourself from him either. You already proven yourself of formindable you are ever since you gotten down here, and Asmo wasn’t going to let some jealous wannabe demon get in the way of that!
So no more talk of the thing, and whenever it did want to make an unsuspecting visit, Asmo would be ready. The thing was immune to most curses, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be charmed to some extent, right?
Has covered the eye slits up with makeup and other beauty products every morning, becomes both of your favorite bonding activity. Anything to erase any evidence of it existing and to hear your giggles brightens his day everytime!
Beelzebub
Is very sympathetic of your ordeal
Has mad respect for you eating that finger though, even he doesn’t think that he would eat that
Maybe with some sauces and some Hellroast he might
Is another brother that tries to keep an eye on you. If this Sukuna really is as dangerous as you make him out to be, then he would make sure to be prepared if things went south
Beel’s motto: stay ready you ain’t gotta get ready
Will want you to practice your moves with him. Beel’s pretty powerful, and on muscles alone is one of the strongest brothers. He wants to make sure that you can recognize your full potential, and to always do your best. Expect to be in the gym or the HoL’s backyard working out and training majority of the week
Is thoroughly impressed with your cursed techniques
Beel doesn’t understand that while yes, you have a whole curse residing in you, doesn’t make you less of a human. He forgets that you still have some limitations, and you have to remind him at least twice a week. You gotten more powerful yes, but you still weren’t at Beel’s level
“You can do it MC! Don’t give up!”
“Beel this is over 500 pounds...are you forgetting that I’m still HUMAN-”
But you can never stay mad at him, he’s just too sweet and he means well. He genuinely wants you safe and prepared if anything happens with Sukuna, and if getting you buffed up makes him feel somewhat at ease, then you’ll deal with it
Shares his food with you sometimes. He makes sure that you eat properly too, so no skipping out on meals!
Great listener! Whether you’re complaining about class, talking about a new restaurant you’re interested in (he’s definitely tuned in), or venting about Sukuna, he’s all ears. Even gives you advice if you ask for it or if you really need it
Has encountered Sukuna while he took over your body once, and let me tell you, he was not happy at all
Beel is one of the brothers that are in touch with his emotions; he doesn’t really fly off the handle into a rage unless someone has done something to his family or if he’s being denied food. But now that you’re family and vulnerable not only to other demons but to this curse inhabiting your body, he wasn’t taking any chances
He made sure to be very clear when talking with Sukuna. He wouldn’t stand for anything happening to you, and he made sure that the curse would wish he stayed scattered if that boundary was crossed
Beel is a very protective big brother that’s constantly looking out for you all the time. Even if you feel like that you need to bare this burden on your own, he makes sure that you never feel alone.
He already lost Lilith, and he doesn’t want to lose you too. He won’t mess up this time
Belphegor
See, he knew that there was something wrong with humans, and you were living proof of that
How can you trust humans not knowing if they have another creature living within them?!
Whatever, he’s too sleepy to even care about it
And you weren’t one of the worst so...he guesses that you’re tolerable, but don’t push it!
In the beginning, he thought it was easy to manipulate you, but he could just sense that something wasn’t right with you (and no, it wasn’t because you were just human). He would hear you talking aloud to yourself, except that you were...responding to yourself too?
He thought you finally cracked up lmao
He brought it up as a joke once, but the way you reacted was tense and...ashamed? Oh, he just hit a gold mine. This could make things much more interesting. You shared a little bit of your story with this so called “King of Curses”, but he was smart enough to make a plan off of the information. Maybe he could take advantage of Sukuna like he is of you. Kill two birds with one stone
Well his plan backfired swiftly. After he was freed from the attic and went straight in for the kill, things went array. His hands were wrapped around your neck, he could-should see the life leaving your eyes, but instead he was met with Sukuna’s gaze. Belphie thought he planned this right, he made sure that he didn’t give you enough time to manifest him or to use your curse techniques, so how was this-
“You think I don’t recognize the look of bloodlust, you spoiled child? You were foolish enough to believe that you could get rid of me this easily like the brat?!”, and he was sent flying across the room. How was this happening, this wasn’t suppose to happen!-
“As much as I would like to see them die, they’re useful to me for the time being. Once they are of no use anymore, the only one who will be relishing in their demise is me. They’ll be dying by my hand, not by some weakened child.”
Those words still resonated with him still to this day. Honestly, the whole incident did. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that you forgiven him and want to build a real bond together, his mind refused to erase that horrid memory, and he deserved it. When Belphie remembers back to that day, he remembers the horrified and heart breaking looks on his brothers’ faces, the way that your eyes show how betrayed and petrified, and how you were gasping out begging him to stop, before he comes out and puts everyone in danger
He felt disgusting, guilty, mortified, regretful, a disappointment. Those feelings only escalated after having them explain the truth to him, both about yourself and being a descendent of his dead sister. He could see how much you touched his family, and you extended that kindness to him too, and he just exploited it
He stayed far away from you for a very long time. He didn’t try to approach you at all, only staying in the planetarium or even the attic, to avoid crossing paths with you. He didn’t deserve to make a connection with you like his older brothers, as much as he wanted to. He was remorseful, it wasn’t because of the whole Lilith revelation, but because you really didn’t deserve that happening to you
You made the first move to make amends, to have a fresh start, and he couldn’t have been more grateful, albeit nervous. He was so terrified of messing things up again, but you were there to help keep him grounded. “I won’t lie to say that what you did was okay, but I’m willing to move on from it. You aren’t completely forgiven, but we can work towards fixing things, together.”
Belphie was shaken by Sukuna’s words, but he wasn’t necessarily scared of him. In fact, he would personally find a way to cast him out of your body and destroy him permanently as the perfect apology and thank you gift; the thank you for reuniting him with his family, and for helping them develop healthy relationships with one another. They weren’t as separate as before, and it made him feel so warm every time he thought about it
Not that he would ever say that to anyone
You both spent time together either napping or plotting for future LYS (Lucifer You Suck) pranks. And since Belphie is pretty good with magic himself, he would be teaching you some new spells or curses that you could use to protect yourself, even against the curse inside you
Belphie will make sure to not make another huge mistake when it comes to you ever again. He’ll have his little slip ups, but you were never put into harms way because of them. He doesn’t want to sabatoge this bond, and he wants you to truly be happy spending time with him. He’s not the greatest role model (obviously) and may be tight lipped about how he feels most of the time, but he really does have your best interests at heart
#obey me x reader#obey me reader insert#obey me headcanons#mammon x reader#leviathan x reader#lucifer x reader#obey me#satan x reader#obey me asmodeus x reader#asmo x reader#obey me beelzebub x reader#beelzebub x reader#obey me belphegor x reader#belphie x reader#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me levi x reader#obey me swd#obey me satan x reader#jjk
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MC's Family Finds Out that They're Actually Dating a Demon the Hard Way
Demon boys more or less going demon on the MC's family. Bound to happen really. This one ain’t so cuddly guys. Special thanks to @anonimo324 for the inspiration for this one. Literally never would have occurred to me if they hadn't have said something and I love the excuse to revisit this idea. 😄
Check out the Masterlist for more!
IMPORTANT: Continuation to "Demon Brothers Meeting the MC's Family" The general setup to this post is in that one.
Lucifer
You know what they say about things that seem too good to be true, right?
Oh, their MC's new boyfriend was smooth, put together, intelligent…
And prideful. So very prideful.
It radiated off of him like no tomorrow, there was just a subtle but constant air of superiority to everything the man did or said. Some may find it attractive but others? It can drive other people right up the wall.
And that's exactly what it did to some members of the MC's family. Even if he seemed educated and well-spoken what made him think he was so special? What made him think he was just so much better than the rest of the world??
They couldn't have known just how angry he'd get when they confronted him about it.
They couldn't have known that they weren’t questioning an arrogant man, but a prideful demon who'd take offense at the mere thought of being anywhere near their level.
It was only when he stood towering before them, demonic wings and horns in full view, did they learn the folly of their actions.
In their hospital beds, bones broken and bodies bruised, they'd rant and rave to anyone who'd listen "He's a demon! A demon! My child/sibling/etc. is dating a demon!!"
The MC disappeared with Lucifer that night, however. Their family writes them off as either dead or kidnapped for torture purposes.
In truth, they returned to the Devildom and Lucifer will never hear the end of how he lost control and attempted to skewer the MC's family members. Surely such a mighty demon should have better control than that... 🙄😑
Mammon
His dumbass let it slip a couple months in, but not without good reason for once.
He had actually been doing pretty well with their family. Sure he wasn't perfect, but he made it clear enough he was looking out for MC and honestly the rest of them as well.
It was small things. Checking up on them sometimes. Making sure the little ones, if any, were safe. Not stealing anything that isn't nailed down (though that's something the MC notices more than their family of course).
It takes a lot. A lot. A LOT to make Mammon break out his demon form. He's better at keeping it in than Lucifer. But showing him something that’s threatening MC is actually a pretty quick why to do it.
The family was out together on a shopping trip, a giddy Mammon included because he knew that meant he could beg ask the MC to buy him stuff.
They really should have checked before they started strolling down the damn crosswalk, but they didn't, and an impatient taxi went hurtling towards them.
Before they could even open their eyes Mammon was already lecturing them about their stupidity, holding them on the other side of the street. Shirtless because his demon form was out and the dumbass forgot to hide it again. Even though they were in public.
He was quick to change back once he noticed, but the damage was done. You can say their family was a little surprised that he straight up grew wings and horns. Only one of them fainted anyway.
To avoid causing further panic, Mammon just legs it away with MC still in his arms, shouting back an quick expletive laced "apology" over his shoulder.
MC smooths things over with their family later by phone. No one can quite wrap their head around the fact that Mammon is a demon, despite what they had seen, but it helps that he did seem to want to protect them.
The MC is not allowed to come home if they want to bring their demon boyfriend too, but their family isn't as worried about them as they could be. Mammon's looking out for them after all.
Leviathan
Okay. They always knew the boy was a little weird but hot damn did that opinion suddenly go from 0 to 60 real quick.
Levi was distant and off-putting at first but in time it became pretty clear that he was just pretty awkward. He wasn't the best with people, but he seemed harmless enough.
It was the MC's idea to bring him along on a family weekend trip to the beach. They honestly couldn't understand why at first. He never seemed to like being with them...
It DID start to click for them a little more when they saw the guy in the water though. They can say it's probably the first time they'd ever seen him so comfortable in his own skin. He even started smiling!
Things were actually going smoothly for them all for once… until other people started taking notice of MC in their swimsuit and one bold gentleman decided to make a cheeky comment on it.
Now, Levi had always stuck close to MC when he was around them. He was practically a second shadow. But it seemed like the second he took notice of those glances he got extra clingy and after that comment.. he started to have a meltdown.
The once bold gentleman was kindly picked up by the neck and hurdled into the ocean like a Frisbee. It would have been hilarious if it weren't so horrifying.
It was about the time that the lad grew a snake tail that the MC's family peaced out off the beach, screaming in terror. MC and Levi left too, mostly because Levi was hellbent on dragging them back to the Devildom in a jealous rage. Obviously THIS is the kind of shit that happens when he leaves his room!
No plans are ever made to go visit again, which he's very happy about. He hated being out in "the real world" anyway.
Satan
Nice as he could be, that temper was bound to catch up to him eventually…
There would be small incidents. A kid cuts him off on the sidewalk and he'd get a little loud and snippy about it. A dog won't stop barking at him and he'd just glare and send it away with a terrified whimper. These things were… worrisome. But not all that demonic.
Then other red flags started showing up. A person on the street would be rude to him and he'd look honestly ready to kill. It'd take MC physically holding him back to keep him in place. Their family was worried about them… Had they'd fallen victim to a possible abuser...?
MC had never listened to what their family had to say, always claiming that they were perfectly safe with their boyfriend. That he had to listen to what they said. But no one really bought that…
Well if there is one way to piss Satan off (and there are many) probably the fastest and most lethal is to doubt his intelligence. Especially if you're only one of those everyday, average humans...
That poor employee at the bookstore had no idea what kind of mistake they made when he told Satan he wasn't looking for Camus but Kafka then refused to double check. Satan doesn't make mistakes about his authors. Ever.
What was originally just supposed to be a relaxing afternoon with the family turned into a night in the station as everyone was questioned about the employee whose head got flattened against the store counter-top. The police weren't entirely convinced a demon did it, but they would look for a blonde.
Said demon had chucked MC over his shoulder and took off before the police arrived to investigate, which as far as they're concerned also kind of amounts to kidnapping.
Satan's now a fugitive in the MC's hometown and on the FBI's Most Wanted List so safe to say that they won't really be visiting anymore.
Asmodeus
Not as surprised as you might think. There were some signs…
Asmo had a bewitching quality to him that went well into the unnatural. He could soothe and win over right about any person or animal to an… uncomfortable degree.
He also kept bringing up and babbling about nonsense products all the time. He always seemed to have the perfect hair treatment or know the best drinks but no one else had ever heard of any of it. What the heck even is Demonus…?
But the real kicker was, well, just how lustful he was. There were horn dogs and then there was this guy. It felt like he could flirt with a potted plant sometimes.
Though he was nice, no one in their house thought Asmo was faithful to MC. And even if he were, his blatant willingness to tease right about anyone he came across was showing them disrespect.
Unfortunately, they had made the poor decision to confront him about it and claim that he didn't actually "love" MC….
There are few things more brutal and less forgiving than an enraged Asmo. Here he was with these humans, people he had been nothing but nice to, and they were doubting his love for MC?? What gave them the right!?
He had his demon form out and his whip already raised to teach these slanderers a lesson! Even if he had grown to like some of them, his anger took over his reason and he had to vent his displeasure NOW.
The MC stepped in before he could crack the whip and made him stop. Their family was terrified but he charmed them into calming down while he and MC talked things out.
They (by which I mean mostly a fuming Asmo) decided that since their family couldn't understand their love for each other, they didn't deserve to see it.
They leave the house calmly and don't come back. MC still sometimes calls their family, but they refuse to leave the Devildom or their beautiful fallen angel, no matter how much their family pleads for them to come home.
Beelzebub
On the one hand, absolutely no one wants to believe it… But it also does make a lot of things make more sense in hindsight.
Like, he was built like a linebacker so it was sort of understandable just how many calories his body seemed to need but there was a limit.
He. Just. Kept. Eating. Never-endingly hungry. Always poking through the kitchen or ordering a mountain of pizzas. More impressively, he never made any leftovers… Ever.
He was such a sweetheart though… They tried to turn a blind eye for a while. Make excuses and rationalize the impossible… but it couldn't last.
It was only supposed to be one nice dinner out. MC had gone over the rules with him ten times before going, "This is a human restaurant and I'm paying, so you HAVE to stop at thirds. Okay? Okay??"
He tried. But the food was sooo good, he just couldn’t stop! And, like clockwork, here comes the manager to cut him off and there goes an angry Beel. Full demon form, tossing tables and wrecking chairs to everyone's absolute horror.
MC had to use the pact to stop him. They could only leave their family with a quick goodbye before they had to book it from the cops on Beel's back as he flew away.
To say there was a mini-meltdown among the members left behind would be an understatement. What the HELL just happened to the sweet young man they had come to know???
The damages were paid for by Lucifer a "mysterious donor" and everything was explained to their family by MC over video call from the Devildom with a very guilty and apologetic Beel in attendance.
When it was clear that the MC wasn't going to leave him or literal Hell despite their protests, they either had to accept it or never hear from them again. Members made their choices, but it's pretty hard to stay mad at someone they've grown to like so much...
He's no longer allowed to go visit them in the human world (which is probably for the best) but shows up on MC's video calls regularly. They still kind of think of him as family even if he could eat them all. He's just such a nice lad, you know?
Belphegor
…. You know, there was always something kind of off about that kid.
It was always hard to place what made Belphie so… different. It could have been the way he never seemed to take any of them seriously or the kind of amazing lack of energy he brought to things.
It also could have been the fact he kept making comments about being a demon, going to "hell," knowing Satan personally, etc. but always played them off as jokes.
Honestly when it finally came out that yes, he was actually a demon, it was almost a relief because it made waaaay more sense than not.
Still fucking terrifying, though.
One of their family members had made the mistake of waking him up from a nap when he and MC were there for a visit
Now. It's not easy to wake Belphie even on a good day but an airhorn to the face is probably not the way to go about it.
When he sent said family member soaring out the window, one-handed, with his horns and tail on full display and a familiar look of murder in his eyes, MC knew the charade was pretty much up...
True to his word, Belphie doesn't let some humans keep MC away from him. He scooped them up and hopped out the broken window before they could really even protest or explain anything.
Which, I mean, how does one even go about smoothing over the fact your demon boyfriend just yeeted one of your family members out of the house?
Their family is kind of able to put two and two together themselves regardless. Which is good because neither Belphie or MC are probably coming back any time soon. If ever. Hope they enjoy postcards...
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#still too fun to write#satan runnin' from the FBI man#beel would call your parents mom and dad#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios
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The Mandalorian X Male Reader
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|| Masterlist ||
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I FORGOT TO TAG THE REQUESTER 😭😭 IF YOU FIND THIS PLEASE TELL ME SO THAT I CAN FIX IT!!
Requested: Hey can I request engineer!reader x Din Djarin where reader travels with Din and Din just assumed reader can't fight for shit since reader is an engineer and he's seen reader get scared of insects, but then Din is in trouble and reader comes to save him, guns blazing, like "listen you pay me to take care of the ship, not to take care of you"
Warnings: Fluff, language, engineer reader, slight violence, sassy reader, badass reader that din falls in love with!
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It has been a few days since they have landed on Nevaroo, fueling up and getting supplies for their next journey. But, of course, they couldn’t leave yet without repeating the crest. Poor thing was busted up and his partner was in charge of fixing it up.
Din couldn’t asked for some help from Greef but y/n refused the help, saying that he was the personal engineer and it was his job to fix the dam thing.
Thing is, they have been on Nevaroo way too long. They were suppose to head out three days back but because of the crest not working up, they had spent the next few days trying to fix it, but so far no success and y/n still refuses the help they are offered.
“SON OF A BITCH!”
Din is sitting in the cockpit with the child when he is startled by the loud shouting. Grogu too, gets startled, causing him to drop his favorite ball and to turn his head towards the engine room. His ears raise in alarm as he turns to Din and gives him a look. Din can only shake his head with a sign, “Let’s hope you don’t repeat those words one day.” He said as he climbs out of his seat and heads towards the back.
Approaching the engine room he hears the other grumbling to himself as he got closer.
“Stupid piece of junk! Why won’t you work?!” Y/n whispers to hismelf as he works on the wiring, reaching inside to try and fix it but ends up getting shocked instead, causing him to yelp in surprise and pull away, glaring at the thing he kicks the wall.
“I thought you were fixing my ship, not breaking it more.” Said Din, leaning against the wall with arms crossed. Y/n gasps as he turns around to see the Mandalorian. “I’m trying but your ship is a piece of junk.” He says back with a glare.
Din sighs again, he’s dealt with y/n for awhile now so his additude was nothing new to him. The two have grown so close that y/n no longer found the Mandalorian intimidating like before.
“Treat her nice.” He reminds the engineer as he bends down to check the wiring. “Dank ferik.” He can see the wiring but can’t reach it, grunting he tries to reach for it again but slowly gives up after a few seconds. “Any suggestions?” He blurts out.
Y/n hums. “You won’t like it.”
“That’s okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Y/n.”
The two stare at eachother as y/n speaks up quickly. “The hole is small enough for the kid to crawl through.”
Din rasies a brow from underneath the helmet. He was close to regecting the idea until he gave the small space one last look, taking in the size. He looks back to y/n who only grins in return before the two slowly turn their heads towards Grogu who was standing in front of them. Watching them with big curious eyes, giving off a small coo at the two.
—
“—the red wire goes where the blue wire was and the blue wire goes where the red wire was.”Din tries to instruct the kid. The two were able to squeeze the kid inside and Din had explained Grogu what he needed to do and the kid agrees to the idea with a small nod and here they are now.
Din has been trying to guide the kid on what to do but the small gremlin can only give him questionable looks, confused on what he was suppose to do.
“No—you put the red one where the blue used to go.”
Y/n sighs and rolls his eyes at the Mandalorian, suddenly getting frustrated as he crouched down and shoves din aside. “Move over tin can, the kid doesn’t know what he’s doing.” He says as he looks inside the small space and gives Grogu a soft smile.
“Grogu.” The kid tilts his head over to y/n his ears rising at the attention. “Hey kid, We need you to help us fix the wiring, you are the only one who fits and if you can help fix it then maybe we can leave early and explore another planet.” Grogu coos at the idea of exploring a new planet or at least getting to know a new area.
“Good, now listen—“ he tries to guide the child and make the situation a bit more easier for the kid to understand. “Grogu, show me the red wire.” He instructs.
Grogu grunts as he lifts his small arm, holding the red wire towards y/n with a tilt of his head. “Good job! Now, on the board you will see two colors. Blue and red, I need you to put the red one into the blue.”
Grogu huffs and gives off a squeak, questioning himself weather that was right or not? He was a child and had the mind of a child, so of course he’s going to be confused as to why the colors need to be opposite.
Y/n is quickly get the signal of the child. “Grogu, you see the red one has to go inside the blue charge because it’ll make the ship work faster and better. Don’t you want the ship to go fast like last time?” He asks, reminding the child of the time that Din spun the crest around in circles, causing the child to squeal in joy and throw his little arms up.
“He doesn’t know what he’s doing.” Said Din as y/n glares at him and slaps him on the leg before turning back to Grogu with a fake smile.
The kid turns back to the board and looks at the two different cables. Cooing he plugs the red one into the blue charge, “yes! Perfect, now put the blue wire into the red charge!”
Grogu lets out a small huff as he plugs in the red wire, causing the ship to come to life as y/n stands up and cheers. “HA!” He points at Din with a mischievous grin. “Told you that he can do it.” He folds his arms over his chest with a raised brow and a smirk on his face.
Din rolls his eyes under the helmet, “well—“ he walks over to help the kid who was trying to get down from the small height. Taking the kid in his arms he strokes one of his ears. “At least the kid is a better mechanic than you.”
Y/n gasps with a glare. “You take that back.”
“Sorry, but no.” Din shrugs and leaves the area, heading back to the cockpit where he sets the kid down and starts to check on the controllers to see what was functioning correctly this time.
After the checkup, they were ready to head out. They had all of the supplies they needed and could last for a few weeks. “Come on kid,” he nods towards Grogu. He was sitting on top of the boxes while holding his favorite silver ball. He watches Din move the boxes against the wall and straps them in. “Looks like we are good to go—“
He is cut off by a scream coming from the cockpit. Din is quick as he climbs up to the cockpit and rushes inside with blaster in hand, “what’s wrong?” He sees y/n standing by a corner with wide eyes as he points towards the pilots chair. “Kill it.” He says.
Din rasies a brow in confusion as he turns to look at the pilots chair, stepping forward he spins the chair around to see a pretty large spider on the seat. “Oh.” With his blaster he nudges the creature, causing it to move.
Y/n gasps and tries to push hismelf further into the corner. “Are you crazy?! Kill it already! Just kill it!” He shouts. The Mandalorian chuckles at the mans actions and shakes his head. “It’s not going to hurt you, these aren’t poisons like the rest.” He puts his blaster away and turns to y/n. “Didn’t know you were scared of small creatures.”
“Shut up! Spiders and Womp rats are two different things! One can easily kill you and the other just runs away!” He exclaims.
Din shakes his head. “I’m starting to think that you don’t know how to do much.” He mumbles out before turning back to the chair to remove the spider, but once he turned back he sees Grogu holding the creature in his small hands and shoving it in his mouth. A loud crunch can be heard as he chews on the thing.
Y/n gags and covers his mouth. “That’s disgusting.” He groans out and quickly leaves the cockpit to avoid the scene that he just witnessed.
Din chuckles, turning to the kid and with a shrug he says. “At least you ate something.” The kid grins back at his father and laughs.
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Din and y/n say their goodbyes to Greef and Cara, thanking them for the help and for allowing them to stay for a couple of days. Now, they can officially head out and visit another planet.
As din prepares the engines he glanced over to y/n who sat next to Grogu, playing with the kid as the crest slowly lifts off.
“Where too?” Asks y/n with a small smile as he holds one of Grogus tiny hands in his own big ones. “I was thinking that was visit Tatoonie for a bit, I need to visit someone.” Y/n rasies a brow. “Visit someone, who?”
Din smiles. “An old friend.”
The ride to tatooine was long, it took a few hours for them to arrive through hyper space and all in one piece. The crest was flying smoothly and no damage has occurred quiet yet, but hopefully nothing bad happens.
Y/n looks out the window as they arrive, taking in the desert planet as they fly over mountains and a few towns. “It looks lonely here.” He blurts out without thinking.
“Trust me, I’ve seen worse.” Din replied back as he turns the crest around and slowly lands them down in front a big building that y/n didn’t recorgnize.
“Want me to come with?” He asks, holding Grogu in his arms as Din turns off the engines and turns around to face y/n. “Best you stay here, I’ll be back quick.” He gives din a nod and looks down to Grogu who coos back and pats his cheeks, trying to cheer him up.
Din nods at the two before leaving the cockpit.
Y/n is left behind with the kid, holding him close he watches from the cockpit as The front gate is pulled away and Din is allowed inside, he watches the gates close again leaving him alone with the kid. “Alright womp rat, what should we do for the next few minutes?” He asks.
Grogu tilts his head with rasies ears, wanting to know if they’ll do something fun. Y/n laughs and heads towards the ladder, climbing down with the kid in his arms. “Their sand outside, maybe we can play for awhile?” He suggest as he drops down the ramp, allowing them to step outside.
Once y/n step out a blast of heat hits him, causing him to groan. “It’s too hot.” He grumbled out as he sets Grogu down. The child waddles down the ramp and towards the sand.
Y/n makes sure to guide the kid towards a shady area where the sun won’t hit them. After finding a perfect spot he sits down next to the kid who begins to play with the sand, making small hills as he squeals and kicks the sand around in joy.
Y/n was too distract by the kid that he didn’t notice a small pack of anoobas coming towards them. A deep growl pulls him away from his distraction as he looks up ahead to see anoobas slowly making its way towards the two.
Y/n quickly gets on his feet and pulls out his blaster. “Damn desert beasts.” He hissed out. Grogu whines and hides behinds his legs, holding onto his pants as his ears pin down.
“Grogu, get back to the ship and hide just how we taught you.” He instructs the kid who listens carefully and nods. The ramp wasn’t too far from them and as the kid makes a run for it the anoobas are quick to jolt into action. Running towards them as y/n shoots his blaster at the creatures.
Grogu whines as he climbs back inside the crest and quickly hides behind some boxes. Y/n continues to shoot at the creatures, taking one down but still having two more charging at him.
Cursing under his breath and heads back inside the crest, quickly grabbing Mandos beskar staff that he left behind and using it to defend himself. The creature jumps at y/n, he rolls away from it and uses the staff to stab its side causing the creature to scream in pain.
He holds the staff hard in his hands as he glares. “Come on you filthy mutts.” He says as he spins the staff. The two creatures circle him, he follows their footsteps and keeps track of the two, waiting for one to make its first move.
The one behind him attacks first, swinging its claws at him. Y/n is quick to suck the attack and swings the staff under the creatures legs, tripping it over as the other jumps at him. Gasping he steps back and almost trips himself. “Stupid sand.” He mutters out before the creature bounces on him.
Using the staff he holds it up in front of him to stop the creature from digging its teeth into him. Grunting he holds the staff tight as he holds the creatures sharp teeth away from him by. The creature growls and puts its weight on him as y/n screams, trying to push the thing away from him. His arms were starting to tire him out and soon he’ll become this things next meal.
Before his arms could give out a blaster shot it heard and the creature falls limp on its side. He shoves the creature away and pants, standing back up as he turns around to not only see one but two mandalorians, making their way over.
Signing in relief he lets himself relax for bit until he notices the other anoobas approaching the mandalorians from behind. Y/n’s eyes widen in worry, gripping the staff in his hands he glares at the creature. “Mando look out!” He shouts. Using his last strength to throw the spear at the creatures head as it tumbles down into the sand.
Y/n placed his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “You—you—“ he pants out and walks towards the mandalorians. “You took forever!” He points to Din with a small glare. “I almost got killed and then I had to save your life! You almost got killed by that damn thing!” He points at the creature before walking over and yanking the spear out of its head, stumbling back as he looks at the weapon. “It’s all dirty now.” He says.
“So this is who you hired?” He hears the other Mandalorian say.
“He was suppose to be an engineer...didn’t exactly expect this.” The other replied back as he puts his blaster away. “Where Grogu?”
“I told him to stay inside the ship, he’s probably still hiding inside—just like I taught him.”
“You taught him?”
“Hey I just saved your life, you hired me to fix your ship not to be your babysitter.” He shot back with a hand on his hip as he gives him a sass like stand.
The other Mandalorian chuckles under his helmet as he listens to the two argue. Y/n turns to the other and nods towards him, “something funny to you bucket head?”
His laughter dies down but underneath the helmet he is smiling. “Nothing, just impressed by your ways and strength. You could make a good Mandalorian.”
Y/n hums. “Yeah—I’d rather not.” He tosses the staff to din who catches it. He walks passed the two as he sighs, “I’m gonna get the kid.”
The two mandalorians watch y/n walk away and head back towards the crest. “I’m surprised.” Said Boba. Din rasies a brow at him and holds the staff in his hands as he looks at him. Boba turns towards his friend. “Surprised you haven’t married him yet, best you hurry before I decided to take him for myself.” Said boba.
Din glares at his friend who laugh at him before shaking his head and patting his shoulder. Din may have found y/n a bit annoying and tough to handle but after seeing him fight he couldn’t help but fall in love just a little bit more with the man.
#male reader#pedro pascal#din djarin#din djarin x male reader#pedro pascal x male reader#the mandalorain#star wars x male reader#star wars#the mandalorian spoilers#the mandalorian inccorect quotes
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Jumping in head first
Shangqi x Reader
A/N: This was actually written before the others but not sure why I put it at the back. Been writing a bit more platonic imagines but I always welcome a different interpretation when you read it! To give a bit of context, reader is also an Avenger but she joined later and Shangqi is like the older protective brother? Because I just think that trope is neat. Anyways, hope this idea of mine is engaging as it was in my mind and as always, like and comment if you wish! Appreciate the support!
Genre: PG 13
Warning: Profanity, blood, the usual when I attempt to write an action sequence?
A gunshot rang throughout the department store. Shit. You were still in there. Shangqi races inside, battling against the throngs of shoppers who were desperately trying to get out.
You lifted the little boy up, sprinting away from the sound with all your might. Think (y/n), you tell yourself. Frantically gazing around the deserted store, you decided to hide the boy in a changing room that was neatly tucked in a corner. You removed your jacket, wrapping it around the boy. How nice, you and Shangqi had decided to go to the nearby mall to grab burgers from the new burger joint that had opened before heading to the Avengers compound to train and this had to happen.
‘Hey… hey, don’t be afraid ok? I’ll make sure to come back for this.’ You tried to assure the poor boy. It seemed to do the trick as he managed to calm down. Shutting the door, you peeked out into the open to make sure the coast was clear. You had to direct attention away from this floor. As you turned left to the now stationary escalator, you saw a mannequin at the children’s section. Perfect.
You pushed the mannequin down the escalator, resulting in a large crash the level below. That was going to leave some lasting damage. ‘Someone’s downstairs!’ You could hear the pairs of heavy boots going down to the second level. Good. Now you just needed to see how many assholes were there to carry out your attack. Making sure to keep a safe distance, you went into a crouching position behind a wall, whipping out your phone camera.
Two… Four… Five of them. You were pretty tall yourself but these guys had boulders for bodies. You were starting to think if this plan of yours was just straight up reckless. Before you could decide on your next move, a hand clamps on your shoulder, bringing you down. ‘What the-oomph! Shangqi!’ You gasp. ‘The hell you doing here?’
‘Saving your ass clearly! What were you thinking?’ Shangqi glances up to see the assailants before turning to look at you. ‘The boy’s safe. I managed to get him out. We can engage freely. But minimum damage please.’
You rolled my eyes at him, ‘Says the guy who caused a bus to be chopped in half.’
‘You know that wasn’t me!’ He hisses back. Ignoring the noise of indignation he made, you scanned the area again. It was as if higher beings were looking out for the two of you, only two of the assailants remained while the rest spread themselves out within the level. The both of you were thinking the same thing - you and him and to take down each assailant within record time to prevent any unwanted attention.
Signing to Shangqi, the both of you treaded carefully down the escalator, each taking a side of the walkway surrounding a store selling prams. You signaled to him using your fingers. On three, strike immediately. Three…two…one!
You launched at the unsuspecting man in front of you, knocking him off balance. Before he could react, I wrapped myself around his left leg, forearms surrounding his ankle in a tight grip. ‘Don’t move unless you want to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your life boy.’ The masked assailant whimpers, quickly taking of his mask. He was no more than 16. ‘Alright, I surrender! Please don’t hurt me!’
I stare hard at him. He reminds me to much of the kids that I volunteer with at the shelter. What is his story? ‘Fine, tell me who’s your boss and why is he making you do this?’
‘I swear, for real - I don’t know. All I know is that some guy in a suit and sunglasses came to me and my friends and offered us a heck load of cash if we help to pull of some heist.’
I turn to Shangqi as if hoping the had some answers which he did. Being an Avenger didn’t just consist of battling a genocidal titan. It also meant that they were spread out across the country, lending a hand to the local police. ‘It’s probably the local gangs crawling around Chinatown. They gets kids like them to do heist like these and use the money to fund illegal activities.’
‘What kind?’
‘You don’t want to know,’
‘What kind,’ I emphasized again, not taking no for an answer. If kids like the boy were in danger, there needed to be something done. Shangqi sighs, ‘Drug smuggling, prostitution, organ harvesting. This is just the tip of the iceberg.’
My blood ran cold. Grabbing a rope from the mannequin donned in sports climbing gear, I tied the boy to the metal grills. ‘Don’t try anything funny.’
The two us proceeded to follow the remaining assailants. My brain was in overdrive, full of rage. ‘Can’t believe such lowlifes are allowed to run around San Francisco freely,’ I muttered under my breath, ‘don’t try to stop me.’
Shangqi ascends the steps of the escalator together with me, ‘Who said anything about stopping? Just try not to kill them okay? We still need them for interrogation.’
‘Can’t promise you that.’
Exactly an hour later, the two of us are standing together with a rookie officer who was taking Shangqi’s statement. I keep my eyes on the entrance where first responders were wheeling out stretchers of the injured. I happen to see the little boy who gave me a small wave in thanks. At least my injured shoulder was worth it.
‘Fucking bitch!’ The last stretcher rolled out from the shopping mall with one of the assailants who was pointing furiously at me. ‘That bitch broke my ankle!’
I should have been shocked by the outburst and perhaps slightly embarrassed that tons of onlookers were staring at me. To my credit, it was the opposite - a mixture of satisfaction and annoyance at his behavior. My natural instincts were now controlling me. Striding towards his stretcher, I held a hand out to the medic to give me a minute before grabbing him by his bloodied shirt.
‘Listen here you piece of shit,’ I kept my voice low to prevent any onlookers from picking up on the situation but loud enough for Shangqi to hear. ‘I’m willing to break more than just your ankle for what you did to those kids. You better spill everything to the police before I break more than just your ankle.’ To send my point across, my eyes playfully roamed down his body. He definitely left on the ambulance traumatized.
‘Woah don’t burn me,’ Shangqi raises his hands playfully as he approaches me. ‘I don’t have to worry about you anymore huh?’
You rolled your eyes at him, ‘What can I say? I’m looking to outshine you one day!’
On cue, the same rookie officer bounds up to us, out of breath. ‘Mister uh-Shangqi, Miss Y/N, I just got another alert from my officer, there’s another attack in one of the financial buildings - we have reason to believe it’s the same group.’
We gave each other knowing looks. It was going to be a longer day than usual. ‘Well, the trip to the compound just got cancelled,’ Shangqi stretches his arms, as if gearing up for a boxing match.
‘Works for me, I have a lot to say to these assholes.’
‘Always jumping in head first huh?’
‘You know me too well!’
A/N: Wow! Legit came up with this during work hours so I’m not sure if my ending was ok? Hope you didn’t get bored reading up till here but if you did, thank you! It’s mid week and then I just have three more weeks left till this god damn placement ends. Until then, stay tuned!
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hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader
explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.
[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]
Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.
"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"
The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.
Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.
Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.
And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.
Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.
The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.
"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"
Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.
Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.
As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.
"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.
Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.
Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.
The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"
Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.
So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.
The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.
"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.
The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.
Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.
As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.
Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.
"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.
"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."
"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.
Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.
Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."
"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.
A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.
"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.
As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.
Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.
The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.
"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.
The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.
"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.
"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.
The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.
The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.
The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."
Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.
Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.
"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.
"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.
"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.
"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.
"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."
The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.
"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.
"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.
"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.
"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."
Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.
As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.
"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.
"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."
The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"
Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."
Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.
"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."
"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.
Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.
"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.
The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.
A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.
The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.
"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.
The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.
"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.
"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.
Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.
The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.
Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.
Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.
Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.
"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.
Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.
"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.
"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.
"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.
Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.
It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.
The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.
"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.
"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.
Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.
"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.
"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.
The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.
"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.
"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.
No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.
Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.
"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.
Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-
Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):
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you’re someone i just want around: V
“I must admit, I thought I’d like to make you mine
As I went about my business through the warning signs
End up meeting in the hallway every single time
And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
— Only Angel, Harry Styles
A/N: this chapter...it was probably my fav to write, so far!!! i just adore these two clueless morons so much like i just can’t shut up about them. quite a bit happens in this part and it’s all to build that slow burn, friends to lovers shit we all know and love baYBEEEEE!!! and also The Crew make an appearance because hello we love to see it, we truly do 😌😌😌 especially the man, the myth, the legend, Mitch Rowland and honestly?? this is HIS chapter fuck vampirerry!!! but yeah i hope y’all like what’s in store for the Dynamic Duo this time around and remember that feedback is truly, madly, deeply™ appreciated! and if you enjoy it, please reblog it! spreading content keep creators motivated! without further delay, let’s dive in 😼
harry’s condo : ysijwa masterlist : andrea’s masterlist : leyla’s masterlist : ysijwa playlist
word count: 34k
content/warnings: witty banter, some nice fluff, jacuzzi sex, more fluff, a very testing phone call, some face f*cking, a soft shower, rough degradation, the return of The Handcuffs, an unexpected visit from The Three Stooges, more cheeky banter because that’s their brand, and the reveal of jealous asshole Harry
///
Y/N giddly accepts Harry’s offer to stay the weekend and the vampire can confidently say it’s one of the best he’s had in the last decade.
He’d startled even himself when the suggestion had risen abruptly from his mouth, leaving him blinking blankly as a result. He rarely allows anyone to spend more than a day in his condo— his friends being the only exception— because he’s grown to like the quiet solitude that comes with living on his own. He very solemnly has people over whom he hasn’t known for at least a few years, and that rule is reinforced on stricter grounds when it comes to humans. Especially when the only true connection they could possibly carry to him is through the area between their legs.
But Harry has become strangely fond of Y/N in the last four weeks— fond enough to freely refer to her as a friend and endeared enough to bypass the fact that she’s mortal. She just looks so unbelievably cute padding around his apartment barefoot, wearing nothing but a pair of crumpled, sunflower-doodled panties and his Nike olive green jumper, her hair a mangled mess with traces of his cologne smeared across the bruised skin of her neck. Admittedly, it’s a sight he wants to see more often, which is a stab at his ego because he’s never been one to dwell on sentimentality— not for a while. It’s a bit cliche and gross, in his opinion, but when it comes to this one particular girl...well, maybe it’s not too bad. Indulging some soft pastimes can't do much damage, especially when it aids his plan to keep her interested until he himself grows bored.
It can only do good, which is probably what had spurred him into asking her to extend her stay. For once, he found himself not craving his usual silent seclusion. Not when that self-imposed isolation could be filled with her loud laughter, warm lips, and sweet moans instead.
And much to his satisfaction, Harry gets just that.
For the next two days, the creature gets all of his needs and wants attended to, both recreational and intimate. Y/N seems to enjoy it thoroughly, as well, walking— or rather waddling, really, thanks to some of their raunchier activities— around his flat happily, constantly clad in a pair of his boxers and one of his graphic tees. He gets off on it— it’s hard not to, especially with the way she fits his clothes so effortlessly, almost as if she was made to fill them. Or the way the scent of his shampoo is combed through every strand of her hair, his smell slathered all over her as if she’s unconsciously trying to mark herself as his. Or the way new love bites cover the ones his blood had nearly faded, which she dotes shamelessly by pushing all her hair behind her shoulders so Harry can get a perfect view of every welt he’s left behind on her throat. Or the way she unapologetically giggles at all his jokes and crude humor, and how she paddles his witty banter right back at him with that clever gleam in her irises.
He gets off on the way Y/N cuddles into him on the couch while they’re watching some mindless Food Network series, her body heat expelling the stiff coldness from his limbs. The way she kisses tenderly along the underside of his jaw, forefinger tracing over his Adam’s Apple teasingly, a smile spreading against his skin when she feels it bob heavily. The way she’ll sneak her hand between his thighs and palm him over his briefs, taking the shell of his ear between her teeth and hissing lowly when his cock twitches against her fingers, her voice soft as silk but heavy with dirty intentions. “Want to make you feel good again, H. Can I?”
The human girl is a blessing, while simultaneously being a walking, talking sin, and the monster’s never been more willing to damn himself to Hell. And he would gladly do it, if he wasn’t already living it in the form of blood-driven eternity.
It’s an eventful weekend, that’s for sure, and despite the fact that they share an abundance of memorable moments, there are a few that Harry deems especially unforgettable.
The jacuzzi sex sits at the top of that list.
Y/N had practically squealed when she’d laid eyes on the glorified tub in his bathroom, pacing over to it excitedly and leaning down to run her fingers over the control panel along the rim. Her voice had come out whispered, full of child-like wonder. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Harry had walked over to stand beside her, his icy digits pressing on top of her warm own, finagling the buttons into his preferred settings. Hot water begins to shoot out of all the polished jets one by one, slowly filling the pool and covering the dark marble wrap-around ledge used as seating. The vampire quickly fetches the bag of lavender Epsom salts he keeps close by, scooping a couple handfuls into the frothing hot tub, along with pouring in a decent amount of jasmine bubble bath.
His lips jolt when he catches Y/N eyeing the jacuzzi in awe, her hands clasped to her chest in delight as she teeters back and forth ever so slightly on her heels. The water shuts off once it reaches the appropriate level, leaving behind a thick, luxurious sheet of suds that smells of sugary florals and clean linen. The second the jets retract, Harry doesn’t even have time to make a comment before Y/N begins stripping down hurriedly, obviously restless to take on this new experience.
Harry spontaneously jerks to the side out of habit, averting his sight to allow her some privacy. His tone is soft and amused. “Clean towels are in the hamper along the other side of the tub.” He signals blindly towards where he knows the basket is situated. “Call me back in when you need help with the shower knobs. And don’t—”
The immortal spots something streak across his peripheral vision, cocking his head a bit just in time to see her flower-print panties toss onto the tiled floor. He rolls his eyes playfully, scoffing to himself at the innocence of the article. It matches her persona perfectly.
He hears a splash crack through the air behind him, meaning that Y/N has submerged herself in the water and that it is now safe for him to turn around without threatening her decency. However, he doesn’t think she’d mind if he did and he finds himself wondering why he’d looked away in the first place. The answer comes to him simply: it was a residual mannerism from the era he was raised in. His default Victorian etiquette can be so fucking annoying sometimes.
He spins around on his socked heels, lean arms folding casually across his broad chest, naked tattoos glinting under the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. He slinks his head to the side, entertained at the view he finds. Y/N is sitting amidst the blanket of pink bubbles, covered up to her shoulders as she cups soap into her palms, blowing at it and watching the suds float across the air before popping. The adorable smile that breaks across her face makes Harry’s stomach flutter.
The vampire steps forward to catch her attention, leaning a hip against the edge of the tub and pursing his lips to hide an adoring grin. The corners of his mouth betray him as soon as Y/N looks up at him, hair slicked back with water and bubbles, matted to the sides of her neck and across her jaw as she beams up at him.
“Your place is literally an adult playground.” The human states wistfully, her arms floating across the surface of the bath as she drifts closer to him, creating more suds. “You’re gonna have to get me kicked out tomorrow ‘cause I’m not leaving on my own.”
Harry snorts, ducking down and wiping some soap off the tips of her eyelashes. “I don’t think security detail was part of the lease, so I might have to do it myself.”
“I can easily take you.” Y/N remarks jokingly, waving a hand dismissively. “Better make some space, I’m moving in next week.”
“I’d say I would start clearing out my storage room for you,” Harry leans forward, ghosting his lips over hers and thumbing over the curve of her chin, batting his lashes sultrily, “but I think we both know you’d end up in my bed either way. Best leave it as is.”
“Yeah,” Y/N momentarily glimpses down at his mouth, eyes glitzing with the slightest bit of hunger, “I think it's best if we just split the bed.”
“Oh, we’ll definitely split the bed— split it right down the middle.” Harry grips her jaw firmly and locks her into a wet, sloppy kiss for a few elongated heartbeats, tugging at her bottom lip and biting it jestingly before pulling back.
Y/N chases after him, craving more of his taste, but the boy draws back fully and pats at her cheek with smug finality. Her begrudging pout makes him release a boyish giggle. “Anyways, as I was saying before, my last rule: Don’t pee in the tub. Cleaning it is a bitch and that’s the last thing I want to deal with.”
The mortal laughs airily, nodding her head in confirmation that she understands. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
“Thank you.” Her friend huffs, shoulders slumping dramatically in relief. Harry takes on a theatrical ominous edge, quirking his brows warningly. “Didn’t end well for the last person who did.”
“Is that so?” Y/N inquires daringly, lowering herself deeper into the water until it covers her chin. “What happened? Did you have to take on the role of executioner again?”
Harry thinks back to that instance, shaking his head in amusement at the memory. It had been Niall— anything that has to do with testing his patience almost always leads to Niall— and to make a long story short, the Irish bloke had ended up having to regrow an ear. But he can’t necessarily confess that supernatural event to Y/N, no matter how funny it is, so he just shrugs offhandedly and gives her a dark look full of faux mystery, voice adopting the same affect. “I’ve already said too much.”
The young woman casts her eyes up to the ceiling humorously. “Moron.”
“Watch it, love.” Harry tuts, narrowing his eyes at her pointedly in an attempt to suppress the smirk that is about to stem from his next comment. “I’m not the one with the degradation kink here.”
Y/N scrunches her face at him mockingly, trying to hide the way his quip had made her heart hiccup. She mimics his accent, sticking up her middle finger from beneath a mountain of rosy bubbles. “Piss off.”
“Gladly.” Harry bites back cheekily in an American accent. He leans down, retrieving his Nike sweater and her underwear from the rumpled pile on the ground, his intentions set on taking them across the hall to the laundry room with the rest of her clothes. That way, her stuff will be nice and clean for when she needs it again Sunday night. “Just call if you need me, yeah?”
Harry gets about three feet towards the door before Y/N’s soft voice halts him, piping up as gentle and timid as usual. “Wait…”
The vampire glances over his shoulder, eyebrows poised in question as he absentmindedly flips his jumper inside-out in anticipation for the wash.
Y/N swims across the extent of the jacuzzi until she’s right in front of where he’d stopped, resting her forearms along the rim and plopping her chin atop her folded hands. She gazes up at Harry through her lashes and he can see the manner in which she shifts her footing beneath the small waves, almost as preparing to stand up from the water. “Don’t go.”
Harry’s eyes go half-lidded in a flat expression as he hangs his sweatshirt over the inside of his elbow. “Didn’t you literally just tell me to piss off five seconds ago?”
“I changed my mind.”
“Well, that’s just too bad. You already hurt my feelings. No take-backs.”
“Idiot.”
“Try again.”
“What’s that one insult British people say? Oh, yeah! Knobhead.”
“You’re really not helping your case here.”
Y/N sighs in exasperation, using her palms to boost herself up until she’s standing fully inside the hot tub. Water cascades down her shoulders and out of her sopping hair, following the curves of her bare torso and trickling across her jaw. She teeters forward until her face is only a few inches away from Harry’s, lulling her head to the side expectantly with a certain slyness swirling around her pupils. She chews on her lower lip as she gives him a suggestive once-over. “How about now? Does this help my case?”
Harry keeps his eyes pinned to her own, refusing to submit to temptation. He knows exactly what she’s trying to do, and he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of allowing it to work. Not yet, at least. He wants her to beg for it.
The creature twists towards her entirely, irises bright with the excitement of a new challenge. Even with the slight elevation the jacuzzi provides, Harry still towers over Y/N at least a good four inches. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough that she has to tilt her chin up to maintain direct eye contact. The tip of his cold nose brushes over hers, eyebrows shrugging tauntingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that, darling.”
Y/N reaches forward without breaking their stares, taking the clothes from Harry’s grasp and haphazardly chucking them onto the towel hamper. Now with his arms free, the immortal props his hands onto his hips, his biceps and shoulders flexing with the motions. He’s peacocking to try and intimate her, and in any other circumstance, it would probably work, but Y/N knows she has the upper-hand at the moment; she’s naked and wet and docile, and with the way Harry’s handsome features are hardening in determination, she can tell she’s whittling him down. All it would take is one well-coordinated touch here, a lingering stroke there, and maybe a gentle caress of her lips down the valley of his pectorals…
Y/N goes for something better. She reaches upwards to intertwine her fingers around the nape of Harry’s neck, tugging him closer until their chests meld together, the heat from the water radiating off her waxy skin and sinking into his freezing own. His breathing catches as soon as he feels her pert nipples press into his chest and even though he’s keeping his sight trained on her face, he can just barely see the curves of her breasts less than a foot below. Their close proximity is making them swell upwards, urging him to give in and have his way with her however he wants. And fuck, does he want to. But he’s not going to let her bait him that easily— who would he be if he allowed this human girl to toy with him in such a fashion? Harry never lets anyone puppet him— not anymore, not ever again— and especially not when it comes to sex, which is one of his most skilled domains. He certainly isn’t going to let her win.
Harry grabs Y/N’s wrists from where they are perched around his neck, giving her a hard look that lets her know who’s in charge of the situation. He brings her hands up before her face, flipping them over so she gets a proper view of the faint bruising that lines her flesh, leftover from the previous evening’s restraints. When he speaks, it’s low and throaty with a condescending undercurrent. “Remember what happened last time you acted like a brat?”
Images flash by the forefront of Y/N’s mind like a film on fast-forward, recalling the night to which Harry is referring. The young man had tied her to her headboard and fingered her until she was left a teary mess, refusing to let her orgasm each time she got close. Then, he had tossed the girl onto her tummy and rammed into her from behind until her aged bedframe had nearly splintered. If she focuses intently enough, she can still feel the satisfying ache he had left behind, which had haunted her for days afterwards.
The mortal swallows heavily, nodding her head a tad.
Harry raises an eyebrow with an awaiting air. “Remember what I said about using your words?”
Y/N bobs her head again quickly. After a moment, she realizes her repeated mistake, clearing her throat softly in order to fix it. “Yes.”
“Good.” The vampire drops her hands, coasting his palms up her neck to cup either sides of her jaw, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones almost tenderly. “Now let me ask you again. Do you remember what happened last time you acted like a little brat?”
“Y-Yes.”
“Do you want a repeat of that?”
“No, I—” Y/N pauses in hindsight, retracting her previous statement. “Well, actually…”
Harry’s ruby lips string into a coy smirk at her response, well acquainted with where her thoughts are leading. He presses their foreheads together, the damp stickiness of her warm flesh sending a shiver toppling down his spine. “Let me guess. You want a repeat of the part where I shoved your face into a pillow and fucked you until you squirted all over me?”
He can feel blood surge into her cheeks beneath his fingertips as a result of his vulgar words. “Yes, please.”
Harry gnaws along the inside of his cheek as he recalls that event. He can practically feel her gushing around his cock all over again, her walls tightening around him as her whole body trembled in his grasp, her shattered whimpers stinging his ears as he continued to slam into her until she’d completely drenched both of their thighs. His eyelids fall shut in dreamy recollection and an image skims by of his initial rings marked across her ass; it nearly sends his knees out from under him. “Fuck, that was so hot, wasn’t it?”
“So fucking hot.” Y/N sighs shakily, lashes fluttering as his warm breath washes across her tingling mouth. “Harry, I just...I just want to ride you so fucking bad right now.”
“Yeah? Is that what you want?” Harry touches over her quivering bottom lip, somehow managing to feel her pulse. It’s battering so hard, he could probably sense it through any spot on her body, at this point. “You want me to sit in there with you just so you can bounce on my cock, baby?”
“Please…” Y/N sounds as if she’s on the verge of crying, all of her desperate need translating into her wrecked voice. Her next phrase is something she doesn’t think she’s ever spoken before, but the intensity of the moment just feels so right to test it out, and Harry feels like the right person to test it with. After another heavy gulp and a lick at her dry lips, she chimes up once again, bashful and pliant. “Please, Daddy?”
The sound of a sharp inhale echoes off the marble and porcelain walls of the bathroom, stemming from Harry’s garbled throat. It feels like the temperature in the atmosphere has gone up twenty degrees, invisible flames lapping across the muscles of his taut back and across the tendons of his tight shoulders. His entire body seems to go into shock, lungs stuttering and stomach hollowing out. His lashes snap shut without a heartbeat to spare, webs of black veins materializing over the whites of his eyes as a reaction to Y/N’s brazen comment.
He has been indulging fantasies of her calling him that specific name for weeks now, but had never asked out of respect for her boundaries. He figured that if she had an affinity for it, it would eventually make its way out of her mouth during one of their sessions, and he had been willing to be patient enough to wait. It had paid off, it seems.
Harry releases his grip on the girl’s face, reaching down to messily shove his black briefs down his clammy thighs, eyes flickering open now that he has forced some control into his demeanor. He sets his intent on her expression, the jade of his irises bleeding lust as he catches her gawking at him. Y/N gazes down at where he’s occupied, her lips parting slightly with starved awe as his underwear falls away to pool at his feet, revealing the part of him she has grown so addicted to in the last month. It looks so pretty, with a neatly trimmed pubic area, thick girth, and pleasurable length. She never knew cocks could be appealing, considering she always found their appearance so odd and irrelevant. That is, until Harry. It appears she thought a lot of sexual things irrelevant until Harry.
He kicks away his clothes, nudging at her boiling cheeks with his nose to garner attention, his tone low and inexplicably strained. “Say it again.”
Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against his heaving chest as she gathers her bearings, shuddering with a difficult exhale. She says it a bit louder this time, but still inherently weak, almost as if she’s scared their shadows might overhear. “Please, Daddy?”
Harry’s brows furrow with puncurting desire, a broken groan stirring deep in his lungs. “God, that sounds so good coming from your mouth. Been wanting to hear you say it for ages now.”
“Really?”
He nods fervently, nose bumping hers with every movement and he takes this chance to peek down at her naked figure, swallowing thickly at how incredible her breasts look flushed to his pecs. “Think about it constantly. Always wondered what it would take to get it out of you.”
“I wish you’d just told me.” The human mumbles, tracing his cupid’s bow with the crest of her own. “I’ve been wanting to say it for a while now.”
Harry chuckles lightly, humming in amusement as he snakes a strong arm around the dip of her spine, drawing her closer as much as possible. He just wants to feel every inch of her wet, velvety skin. “Well, now you can say it all you want. Over and over and over, while I make your knees shake and your back arch.”
Y/N sputters out a bundle of feathery giggles, looping her arms around his neck and carding her fingers into his shiny curls, pulling his lips down to meet hers in a restless kiss full of quiet whines and snippets of laughter. She talks into his mouth, starting to pant as the pace becomes more passionate, full of eager tongues and nipping teeth. “Now will you please get in and let me fuck you?”
Harry mounts one knee onto the edge of the hot tub, his free hand jutting down against the marble for reinforcement as the other keeps her trapped against his body. “Yeah...Yeah, I think I will.”
He crawls into the heated water, submerging up to his waist due to his height. Once he’s balanced himself within the pool, the palm pressed to the brim slips away, replacing the cold stone with the simmering skin of Y/N’s jaw once again. He tangles his fingers into her hair as he nurses her face to the side, deepening their prolonged kiss, and the whimper she pours into his mouth makes every cell in his body throb with longing. Y/N’s hands ride down his lean stomach and over his pelvic bones, fingers twitching the closer she gets to his cock. She stops right before she reaches his base, wracked with the slightest bit of shy hesitation.
“Go ahead, doll.” Harry murmurs softly, hips bucking forward once against the pads of her digits. “I want you to touch me.”
Y/N’s palm disappears below the mounds of bubbles, cupping over his cock and giving it a rough grope. Harry gasps brokenly against her lips at the sensation, the corners of his mouth ticking upwards into a blissful simper when her breathing throttles just a smidge. Y/N gradually begins to work him below the gentle waves of the water, eyes rolling back when she feels him harden in her hold. She’ll never get used to how erotic it is having Harry shatter under her influence.
“I think it's funny,” she begins, voice delicate and humorous, contradicting the insistent actions she’s partaking below, “how you were threatening me with orgasm denial two minutes ago and now you’re being all nice.”
The vampire thrusts slightly against her strokes, tiny noises escaping his taut throat as a familiar boiling begins to simmer in his veins. His tone is detached and pinched with the effort of maintaining composure. “S’hardly a fair point, considering you caught me off guard with that pet name.”
“Is that so?” The girl inquires playfully, giving the tip of his cock a hard squeeze and scoffing against his mouth when he releases a tight grunt.
“Mm. You always…” Harry draws back from her intoxicating mouth, looking down at her over the crests of his tinted cheekbones to admire the faint imprint of his teeth along her swollen lips. His mind feels like it’s been pumped with syrup, thoughts swishing around lazily, his emotions still somewhat exposed from the mishap that had occurred during their breakfast serenade. It had been over two hours ago, but the wound was still fresh in his subconscious, causing small pinpricks of anxiety to stain his otherwise carefree personality. He feels as if his chest had been cut open with a scalpel, his insides had been rearranged out of order, and the gash had been resewn brutishly; he feels disarrayed and defiled. And because of some simple human girl who’s as fragile and insipidly transparent as glass.
The immortal’s voice comes out as a whisper, carrying the weight of his confused, raw state. “You always catch me off guard.”
Y/N blinks up at him innocently, gnawing on her bottom lip at his sweet compliment, her heart somersaulting within her ribcage. “You catch me off guard, too. Always keep me on my toes, which is something I was never really used to.”
“Do you...” Harry forces down the lump in his throat, allowing himself to be vulnerable for the sake of seeking an answer. Though their problems are vastly different— she’s referring to her small-town, conservative mentality, whereas he’s shouldering two hundred years worth of emotional trauma— he’s more than happy to absorb any advice she could possibly offer. He needs to know how to shut this off; he hates feeling so unsure of himself. It’s like he’s wading through a forest blindfolded, disoriented and uncalibrated with no sense of direction or purpose. He hasn’t felt this helpless since… “Do you hate it?”
The mortal’s eyes fall shut, lashes dusting the apples of her cheeks in a way that Harry deems almost ethereal. She shakes her head lightly in his grasp, a hazy smile adorning her face. “Do I hate that you take me out of my comfort zone? I don’t think I do, actually. I like it. I like that every moment we spend together is something new. I was so used to following the status quo and retracing other’s steps, I never noticed how boring it all was. But you’re never boring. You make everything fun and adventurous, and it’s just so...”
Y/N laughs a tad, trying to come up with a word she can’t quite place, too distracted in how her friend’s thumbs are caressing her jaw. The hand she has below the water has stopped its motions all together, her focus placed solely on the young man’s beautiful features. The copper specks in his eyes glitter in the white light of the bathroom, looking like polished amber gems. “Uhm...It’s...It’s so—”
“Scary...but exhilarating.” Harry finishes her sentence, a quivering sigh coaxing out of his tight chest. He feels like he’s going to vomit.
Y/N bobs her head in agreement, hands drifting to wrap around his dainty wrists, giving them a soft squeeze as if to reassure herself that he’s real. “Yeah, that’s it. It’s...exciting, kind of.”
The creature swallows heavily and releases her face, peeling his eyes away from Y/N’s for fear of letting her see him so defenseless, brows creasing in burning unsettlement. Instead, he lends his attention to outlining the speckling of white strewn into the dark marble of the bathroom wall, using that distraction to calm the raging in his belly. Out of the edge of his vision, he can see Y/N’s face fall, the grip she has on his wrists loosening. A spike of pain shoots through his unbeating heart— similar to what he had endured earlier— at the sadness behind her gesture, but he stifles it with stubborn spite. This isn’t him. It hasn’t been for decades now, and he’d grown to like it as so. In his experience, attachment leads to suffering, and suffering leads to misery. And with all of the centuries he has ahead of him, misery is the last companion he needs.
Harry clears his throat emptily, slashing through the tension that had suspended in the air between them. He glimpses down at her, undoing the knot between his eyebrows and putting as much playful ease into his irises as he can muster, urging the corners of his lips into his signature smirk. “I guess we just excite each other, then. Though that’s become pretty obvious by now, I think.”
Y/N purses her mouth to hide the immature grin his innuendo is attempting to weed out, all awkwardness dissipating from her aura. “I guess we do.”
The monster ducks down to flirt his lips over the human’s, arms tying around her lower back and hiking her upwards. Y/N yelps in surprise, instinctively clamping her legs around his waist and giggling as he lugs her from side to side jokingly, pretending he’s about to drop her into the pool. “Why don’t we go back to exciting one another, hm?”
Y/N’s nose rubs across the bridge of Harry’s and she gasps lightly when she feels the head of his cock prod at her entrance, dipping in a bit to tease her, spreading her open just enough to wheedle a soft hiss. She shivers in his arms despite the heat wafting up from the warm water, a very different type of warmth pouring into the area between her legs. The girl clings to the sides of the English boy’s neck, spinning a damp curl around her forefinger— he’d gotten his hair wet when he’d splashed into the jacuzzi, and the manner in which his ringlets are gluing across his flexing neck and sharp jaw is doing her in.
She gives a small nod, eyes flickering down to his tempting lips and back up at his devious gaze. “Yeah, alright.”
In Harry’s expert opinion, it’s safe to say they definitely excite each other. It’s pretty evident in the way their bodies mold perfectly, satisfying their own desires while simultaneously fulfilling the other’s. The vampire ends up sitting on top of the ledge that circles the inside wall of the pool, his head hanging over the edge with his mouth parted in an open grin, filthy moans and needy whines pouring from his tongue freely as Y/N rocks onto his slick cock. The girl balances herself on her knees, backside crashing down against his thighs in harsh slams full of reckless urgency— she needs this more than she’d ever care to admit. Her nails dig into Harry’s strong shoulders for stability, head thrown back in sheer bliss as her chest bounces with every thrust, the trench of her tummy rippling with contented heat. He just makes her feel so fucking full.
“God, y-you’re so big.” Y/N mewls, swinging her hips in small circles that draw an array of fractured sounds of pleasure from Harry’s taut throat. “You stretch me out so fucking good, Har.”
Harry’s hands tighten into fists against the glossy plastic of the jacuzzi, arms slung casually over the sides of the tub in a relaxed posture. He doesn’t want to bother with taking control at this particular moment; he’s too busy reveling in the ecstasy Y/N is pounding into his system. He jolts with every rough dip of her hips, the corners of his raw lips winking his dimples awake as he looks up at her through barely-cracked eyes, the weight of his mounting orgasm heavy on his lashes. “Love that cock, don’t you? Can tell by the way you always kiss it right before you take it down your throat.”
Y/N grapples onto her friend's neck blindly, one palm grasping the center of his jugular as the other cradles his defined jaw, her thumb smearing across his lips as a result of her choppy movements. Harry cranes his head forward a bit to get a better view, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of her finger as an appreciative thrum rumbles against the hand she has covering his Adam’s Apple. “You look so beautiful when you fuck me all desperate like that.”
Y/N whimpers as she swivels against his lap eagerly, driving herself towards a climax that she knows will leave her utterly ruined. Harry glances down to where their centers meet below the water, worrying his lower lip between his teeth as he peers through the violently sloshing waves and frothy suds, watching Y/N glide over him easily now that she’d gotten used to his size. He leans forward, slowly planting a trail of suckling kisses up the center of his friend’s tummy and over the valley of her chest, looking upwards through his long lashes and smiling lewdly into her flesh every time her walls squeeze at the action. She’s so snug around him, he’s convinced no one could ever fit him this well.
His words come out as a raspy growl. “You’re such a tight little thing. Never get tired of that perfect cunt. S’like you were made to take me this deep.”
Y/N collapses forward, her grip shooting up to trade his face with his drenched curls. She sponges her mouth messily over his, gasping onto his tongue as the motions of the water batter against her sensitive clit. Her brows cinch with hunger, tone pleading. “Touch me. Please? Want— Want your hands on me while I ride you.”
Harry shakes his head tauntingly, licking across her top lip and teething at the crescent above it. “I don’t think so, angel. I like seeing you do all the work, for once. You look so good using me to get yourself off.”
The girl fists at his hair almost cruelly, her sanity gradually slipping. “But I...I like it when you use me, too.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware.” The vampire muses arrogantly, spreading his meaty thighs wider so that her strokes have a more profound impact. His position works as intended, seen in how Y/N slows for a second when she sinks down to the hilt, a breathy, “Fuck, that’s so deep.” scraping past the cracks of her gritted teeth.
Harry bucks upward symbolically, signaling for her to regain her rhythm; one look at his dominantly smug expression has her abiding instantly. He lays his head against his bare shoulder, studying every clench of her belly and every heave of her breasts, etching this picture into his extensive list of memories. His voice flows out as thick and silky as molasses. “I just can’t get enough of watching you make yourself cum around my cock.”
“I j-just want you to fuck me.” Y/N is nearly sobbing, her fingertips carving into his scalp as she kisses over his colored cheeks and tinged nose, trying to swindle him into giving her what she wants. “I’ll do anything you want. Promise.”
“Always so willing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles darkly, groaning lightly when she suddenly tenses around his length. He can feel his nails breaking the skin of his palms as his fists contract. “You want me to make you scream, is that it? Want Daddy to pound you until you can’t stand anymore?”
Hearing him refer to himself that way sends electricity coursing down her spine. “Want it so bad.”
The creature reaches up with his index finger and brushes a sopping strand of hair out of Y/N’s face, tucking it behind her ear and tracing down her cheekbone admiringly. After a few seconds of thought, he appraises her with a decision, licking across his top teeth and pressing his tongue along the inside of his cheek teasingly. “Let’s make a deal, then. How about you get yourself right on the edge for me, and then I’ll flip you around and finish you off. Sound fair?”
Y/N doesn’t need to be told twice. She regains her previous stride with more fervor and speed, hellbent on pushing herself to the seam of climax so she can let Harry take the reins. The young man watches her with sinful intent tainting the emerald of his irises, the golden smudges around his pupils glinting blood red for a single heartbeat. He decides he’ll lend his expertise just once, extending his arm and fiddling with the settings on the control panel of the hot tub, preparing a surprise he knows his guest will thoroughly enjoy.
When the jets suddenly rumble to life, Y/N’s jumps in shock, the loud sound startling her clouded brain. But then two concentrated streams of water hit her right between her legs and she nearly faints as newfound bliss erupts through every fiber of her being. The insistent spray toys with her clit in a fashion that is indescribable, revving her closer to release as the overwhelming sensation pairs with the rapture Harry’s cock is hammering into her. She won’t last long, and he knows it.
The monster eyes her reaction attentively, his forefinger lulling upwards across the water-proof screen of the controls, raising the intensity of the jets. The fragmented moan that betrays the human goes right to his core. He then slides his finger back down, reducing the powerful force to softer bursts. Y/N whines in protest against his mouth, begging him to set it higher like before. And Harry does, giving her exactly what she craves with one easy swoop. Y/N’s forehead falls against his jaw, her shallow breaths puffing down his collarbones and heating his icy skin.
“Shit, that’s so—so— fuck!”
Harry continues to play with the settings, teasing her with waves of strong geysers and gentle trickles. Soon enough, he’s perched behind her, her back sticky against his wet chest as she holds herself up on her knees against the marble seat, hands clamped around the metal railing that runs the circumference of the pool. The pole helps her brace his unforgiving pace, her entire body jerking forward with every ram of his hips as small hiccups of pleasure float across the fogged air of the bathroom. Harry takes the shell of her ear between his teeth, biting down with no remorse as Y/N pushes back to meet his adamant thrusts, his coral-lacquered digits sifting between her own around the polished metal. She gets a bleary glimpse of the cross tattoo inked onto his hand as she can’t help but snort softly at the irony.
“Is something funny, love?” Harry’s deep baritone causes chills to wring down her arms.
“Your cross tattoo,” Y/N chokes out, a soft grunt interrupting her sentence as the head of the boy’s prick nudges the pit of her abdomen, “it’s just so ironic.”
It is ironic. Harry had gotten it for that sole purpose— to mock the fact that he was deceased. He didn’t get to have a tombstone, so this is the next best thing: a symbolic one, of sorts, sketched into his skin for the rest of his undead life. A bit morbid, but he quite fancies dark humor, given what he is.
However, he knows Y/N finds it ironic for much different, much unholier reasons.
“You wanna know what’s really ironic?” Harry quips, bottoming out harshly and cooing into the back of her neck when the mortal’s shoulders give a spasm in response. His tone is a mocking whisper. “That such an innocent-looking thing like you loves the idea of being my shameless little whore.”
Y/N’s cheeks boil at his explicit comment, a delicate whimper striking her vocal chords. One of Harry’s hands leaves its post on top of hers, tangling into her wet locks and giving her hair a ruthless yank. He guides her head into the nook between his shoulder and neck, spitting his next words out against the thundering pulse in her temple.
“You’re nothing but Daddy’s little filthy fucking slut. Isn’t that right, baby?”
Y/N nods frantically in his authoritative grasp, struggling to swallow due to the combination of his unyielding tempo and erotic statements.
Harry twists her hair around his knuckles, drawing a broken mewl from her raw lips as his teeth skim along the top of her cheekbone. “Words. Now.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Say it.”
“I’m...I’m your filthy little slut.”
Harry scoffs in entertained disbelief at how willing she is to submit to him, pecking a kiss to the corner of her eye and tasting a salty tear across his tongue. He redirects her head forward, grinning into the side of her scalp. “You should see the way you smile when you say it.”
Y/N can’t help it. It just feels so right with him— she feels oddly safe, knowing that what they share is something neither of them will ever give to anyone else. Their arrangement is one of a kind; they fit each other so flawlessly, nobody could ever possibly come close. And she doesn’t want anyone to try— doesn’t want anyone attempting to replace him. Harry just fills the gap perfectly, and she wouldn’t dream of letting another man do what he does to her. Not when she has Harry near, willing to mumble as many graphic promises into her ear as she wants, all while he fucks a sweltering throb into the area between her thighs.
The human girl finds herself wishing this could last an eternity. Little does she know that if it wasn’t for her mortal ignorance and Harry’s better judgement, it very well could.
///
Later in the day, Harry vaguely recalls how the week prior he had made a passing joke to Y/N about how her sexual drive matches that of a rabbit. What happens in the evening makes him stand by that comment.
They order in Chinese for dinner, and Y/N insists on eating out on the balcony, wanting to get a perfect view of the sun setting over the city skyline. She has never experienced the phenomenon from such a pristine view.
Harry allows it, but only after parenting her into putting on a jacket to avoid catching a cold, sending her back into the condo in search of one as he sets out their meal atop the multicolored glass table outside. Humans are so sensitive, and the last thing he needs is his booty call nearly dying from a case of the sniffles.
She comes back out clad in his patchwork cardigan, wrapping it around her body snugly as she sits with her legs crossed on the patio chair, fitting her box of takeout into the hole created by her thighs. The fluffy knitwork had been the first coat she had found hanging in his humongous closet, and she’d thrown it on without a second thought, too caught up in the excitement of getting to see such a picturesque sight in real life. It’s warm and smells of Harry’s vanilla tobacco cologne, along with hints of other scents, like his chamomile and mandarin shampoo and spiced deodorant. She’d been more than happy to inhabit it.
Harry isn’t sure why, but seeing her sitting across from him on his balcony in a pair of his maroon plaid Calvin Klein boxers, his Keith Harrington Safe Sex t-shirt, and blanketed within his oversized rainbow cardigan, all while her hair falls across her face and tickles her jaw… It makes a fond smile buckle his cheeks, though he manages to tame it quickly.
They chat casually as they eat, sharing silly stories and experiences as they pick at their stir-fry, taking periodic sips of the cranberry juice Harry keeps stocked in his fridge. He doesn’t know the science behind it— though he highly doubts there’s any valid scientific explanation behind the magic that runs through his supernatural veins— but he’s come to find that cranberries help curb his cravings. It’s why he always has a liter on hand.
Y/N informs Harry on how her work week had gone, and about how one of her friends back home had gotten engaged recently. She says it all seems so surreal and that she doubts the girl will actually go through with it, which makes the monster burst into laughter, much to her confusion. Harry thinks that this is probably the first time he’s ever seen Y/N be so blatantly pessimistic; it’s strangely comical. Just hearing her opinion on the situation is enough to send anyone into a cackle fit, especially when she says it with such a straight face. “Yeah, I just don’t think she’ll do it. She says she loves him, but she always used to complain about his foot fetish, and I’m pretty sure she’d go insane if she had to put up with that for the rest of her life.”
Harry wards off another bundle of giggles, pursing his twitching lips and bobbing his head once in understanding, using his chopsticks to pop a piece of fried duck into his mouth. “That’s a valid reason to abandon anyone at the altar, if I’ve ever seen one.”
“I know, right? She told me he likes sucking whipped cream off her toes and, like, not to kinkshame, because I obviously have my own weird shit going on—”
“Yeah, I can attest to that.” Harry shrugs his eyebrows suggestively, picking a small chunk of broccoli off his utensil and smirking as he chews slowly. “Decently weird, actually.”
Y/N gifts him a deadpan expression, shoving a piece of veggie dumpling into her mouth and choosing to ignore his dig. “Anyways, I feel like that one is just on a whole other level. Like...what the fuck?”
Harry shares an anecdote about his own friends, as well, feeling that if he doesn’t open up at least a smidge, she'll start becoming suspicious. He recounts the time when he and Mitch had snuck into a Fleetwood Mac concert and met Stevie Nicks, though he’s careful enough not to tell her the date the event had occurred. He just lets her deduce it was one of their more recent tours, when in reality, it had been back in the eighties. The other detail Harry leaves off is the fact that he had tried to seduce Stevie, emphasis being on “tried.” It hadn’t stuck, unfortunately, and what had made the experience even more mortifying is that his idol had taken an interest in Mitch instead. Harry’s ego has yet to recover from that blow; first, because Mitch had the sheer gall to reject the celebrity on the grounds that he wasn’t looking to get involved in any public scandals, and secondly because his best friend refuses to ever let him live it down. “Hey, remember when we met Stevie Nicks and she wanted to fuck me instead of you? Good times, man.”
When the sun finally begins to dip over the horizon, their conversation dies off, replaced by the serene sounds of distant traffic and a light wind picking up as the temperature begins to drop for the night. Y/N stares at the sky in childish wonder as the bright blue starts to darken, streaking with mellow oranges, pastel purples, and buttery yellows, the colors painting across the clouds and giving the bustling city a timeless quality that can only be truly appreciated firsthand. A small, dreamy smile spreads across Y/N’s lips as the gorgeous canvas reflects off the glossy surface of her irises, her legs drawn up to her chest with her arms hugging her knees. She gazes wistfully over the place she has now grown to call home, taking in all it has to offer for the first time in two months, feeling oddly at ease despite the fact that she usually feels lonely wandering its streets.
The mixture of drunken hues casts a hazy glow across her skin and hair, dim stars beginning to twinkle in space as the moon makes its debut. Y/N delights herself with watching the scene unfold, surveying the endless stretch of sky and soaking in its natural beauty. And as Y/N stares across Los Angeles during one of its most breath-taking moments, Harry finds himself staring at her instead.
Once darkness has soaked across the skyscrapers and roads of California for the night, Y/N and Harry turn in, as well. They end up splayed across Harry’s leather couch, entertaining a new episode of Sugar Rush on the ninety-inch flat screen mounted on his glass wall; it’s simply in order to take up the last couple of hours left before bed. By some inexplicable miracle, the vampire had managed to actually fall asleep last night after he and his visitor had finished their regularly scheduled activities. He doubts he’ll be that lucky tonight, but he has no choice but to play the part for the sake of keeping up appearances.
Maybe if the universe is feeling exceptionally generous, the human will fall asleep while they’re watching TV and Harry can just carry her up to his room without having to put on an act. It’s a favorable alternative to having to fake sleep until she gives into fatigue; lying awake with his eyes closed for an hour would make him feel as stupid as Niall’s golfing addiction.
However, it appears that for the time being, Y/N has other plans to bring forward some tried and true exhaustion.
There’s nothing particularly sexual about the fashion in which their bodies are pressed together at the moment, given that it’s a pretty innocent snuggling position. Harry is slumped against the backrest of the sofa with his feet propped on his coffee table, comfy in a pair of black jogging shorts and a vintage Rolling Stones tee. Y/N is nestled into his torso beside him, her head burrowed into his chest with his arm slung nonchalantly across her shoulders and down her back, legs intertwined with his. She had done it out of instinct and Harry doesn’t really have an issue with the gesture; she’s warm and soft and the soothing action of her socked foot running up and down his calf helps him unwind from the day’s events. He likes this, he decides. She smells like him— with her usual scent of honey and lavender permeating through— and she’s decked out in his clothes, aimlessly doodling figures onto his tummy as they enjoy the baking show in comfortable silence. It’s strangely mellow.
Y/N is the one who instigates, as usual. Humans are so horny, it’s ridiculous. But he benefits from this specific mortal’s libido, so he’s not complaining.
It starts with her drifting upwards from where she’d been tracing over his butterfly tattoo, her warm fingers stroking over the prominent structure of his clavicle, her eyes flickering up to gauge his reaction. Harry doesn’t move an inch, face maintaining a curtain of calm indifference. He figures she’s just extra touchy, as she normally is. Then the pads of her digits skim across the side of his throat and an impulsive flare of panic pricks the back of his skull, but it quickly dissolves, as it tends to do now around her. She’s the only person in the last two centuries who has managed to touch him there without inciting a rampage.
Y/N coasts across the nape of his neck, twirling a baby curl around her forefinger distractedly, giving it a small tug in the manner she knows he likes. Harry’s body tightens for a split second and she bites into her lower lip to muffle a mischievous grin. She stretches up, dusting a lingering peck to the curve right behind his ear, running her nose across the shell tenderly. The vampire shifts slightly in his seat, the feathery sensation beginning to weigh at the pit of his stomach. She’s teasing him, and it’s working.
The mortal flushes her puckered mouth fully to the side of his jugular, rubbing the ridges of her skin over one of the veins chiseling into existence, right over the area where a heartbeat used to lie. Harry’s hand balls into a fist against the dip of her spine, itching to grip onto something to keep his cool. Preferably, her throat.
When Y/N finally speaks, the hot breath of her words makes his cock twitch against his thigh. “Wanna kiss a bit?”
Harry cranes his head to look at her, eyebrows jumping up in amusement. “You wanna make-out? What are we, fourteen?”
The girl gives him an impassive pout and glances indicatively towards the armrest of the couch, where they had sat the evening prior while admiring his art wall. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night.”
Harry presses his lips together into a playful simper. She makes a valid point. “Well, I was horny last night. Wasn’t in my right mind.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at his juvenile answer.
“And you’re not now?” She prods softly, her gaze slinking down to his spread thighs, almost as if to check if he’s hard. Harry snorts as her action and she bats her lashes up at him with fake innocence, muscling down the sly smirk threatening to emerge across her face.
“Not really, but maybe I could be…” The creature glimpses at her colored mouth for a heartbeat, reaching a hand up and pushing his air-dried ringlets back from his forehead, lips twitching coyly. “Persuaded.”
Y/N leans forward, buttoning their mouths for a fleeting moment. She pulls back a tad, ghosting the crescent of her top lip over his to try and compel him. “Please?”
“Mm,” Harry licks at the corner of his mouth, eyes half-lidded tauntingly, “I don’t think that was enough. Show some team spirit, will you?”
The girl gifts him another kiss, this one longer and more intense, a palm making its way to cup his jaw. “Please, H?”
He’s begun to pant lightly, hand flattening across the small of her back as if to guide her somewhere. He blinks down at her smugly, gnawing into his cheek. “You’re not quite there. Maybe a little more.”
It turns out one more kiss is enough to convince his metaphorical meter. Y/N ends up perched in his lap, both of his large hands groping at her ass as she clutches the back of his neck, their lips sewn together in a filthy kiss full of gentle whines and impatient tongues. It’s going pretty great, and Harry thinks that Y/N is probably one of the most fun people he’s ever had the pleasure of kissing. Her mouth is as sweet as the sugary scent she always dotes, she ebbs and flows to his movements seamlessly, and the enthusiasm she carries makes every nerve in his body fizzle. The noises she makes are incredibly satisfying, as well. All her needy mewls and delicate whimpers string right down to his groin.
After a few minutes of dry humping and jesting bites placed on overzealous lips, Harry boosts himself up from his relaxed position, feet knocking off the coffee table as an arm snakes around her hips. He sits forward, extending his free hand and waving it around blindly, too occupied to willingly break their embrace. He refuses to pull away, especially when she’s gluing such dirty moans to the roof of his mouth. His palm swings across the air stubbornly until it finally slaps down against the marble surface he’d been searching for, his grip tightening around its rim for confirmation. He proceeds to scoot the counter forward, intent on laying Y/N out on top so he can get on his knees against his furry carpet, get his boxers down her velvety legs, and get his head bobbing between her quivering thighs.
Harry’s plan is about to pan out ideally until a high-pitched shriek cuts through the tense ambiance of the room.
Y/N cracks their kiss, gasping and heaving as her head whizzes from side to side, looking for the origin of the annoying trill that had interrupted their playtime. “What—What is that?”
The vampire glances over his back towards where the ruckus is stemming, the insistent chime grating his heightened ears. He spots the culprit immediately, releasing an irritated groan as a result: his phone.
From his spot on the edge of the couch, Mitch’s contact picture blazes across the screen. Harry loves that photo of his best friend— the way his emotionless expression and skinny middle finger are directed towards the camera makes it a wonderful shot— but he really wishes he didn’t have to see it right now. He has other more pressing matters. Literal pressing matters, if the tent in his mesh shorts is any indication.
“Just ignore it.” Harry murmurs, turning back to slam their lips together once again. Y/N obliges without a second thought, happily re-engaging her previous activity of smudging her cupid’s bow across her friend’s as he stretches her out across the table
Ignoring it works the first time. And the second. But by the third call, Harry has no choice but to break away with an exasperated grunt, his brittle patience forcing him to handle the blaring ringtone.
He slides his thumb across the screen roughly, bringing it to his ear as he slumps back into the couch cushions, holding up a finger towards Y/N apologetically and mouthing a quick, “It’ll be just a second.”
His guest nods in understanding, letting her head fall back against the cold marble and distracting herself by counting all of the lightbulbs situated at the peaks of the chandeliers above.
Harry turns his focus to the person on the other end of the phone line, voice snipped with aggravated anger. “What?!”
“Whoa, okay… That’s no way to talk to the elderly. Take it down a notch, Grumpy. Didn’t Snow White teach you any manners?”
The monster takes a deep breath to keep his rage in check, gritting out his words through bared teeth. “I’m fucking busy right now. What do you want?”
“Oh, well, I’m so sorry to be a bother, My Lord. I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you have all your stuff packed for tomorrow. Y’know, like the good friend I am.”
Harry blinks blankly, all indignation flooding out of his system, replaced by utter confusion. “You wanted to check if I’m...? For what? Why would I need to pack?”
There’s a pause on Mitch’s end, as if the man is waiting for Harry to come to the conclusion himself, static filling the speaker. When it’s obvious the younger vampire is clueless, his best friend elaborates slowly. “For the trip. The Vegas trip. The one we take every year around the same time. The one that we all agreed we’d roadtrip in your car tomorrow.”
Harry’s eyes widen in realization, his entire face paling. Fuck.
“The trip.” He mumbles, the fingers of his free hand coming up to rub at his temples worriedly as his mistake dawns on him. “God, I completely forgot about it.”
“You can’t be serious.” Mitch deadpans, a long sigh following his comment. “Harry, you’re the one that booked the hotel this time. How could you possibly forget?”
“I…” Harry glances over at Y/N as guilt weighs into his demeanor. The girl meets his gaze, smiling sweetly and waving, completely unaware of the horrific ordeal he’s gotten himself into by inviting her over. “I got caught up with something.”
A humorless snort crackles through the stereo of his phone, Mitch’s voice tinged with irked disbelief. “Yeah, that’s what you’ve been saying for the last four weeks now every time you bail on us. I just figured you’d get your head out of your ass for this one, but I suppose I spoke too soon.”
Harry drags his palm down his face, gripping his chin in thought. “I’m sorry. Genuinely. I didn’t mean to let it slip, I’ve just been so occupied during the last couple of weekends that—”
“That you forgot about our yearly trip. How nice. Just perfect.”
“Mitch, I know I fucked up, alright? But what if—”
The immortal’s solution gets cut short when out of his peripheral vision, he sees Y/N climb off the coffee table and onto the carpet below. Harry’s words lodge in his throat as he watches the girl crawl on all fours across the ground towards him, a cheeky smile ticking the corners of her lips as her irises glimmer schemingly. Shit.
“‘What if’ what?”
“What if...Uhm…” Harry finds himself struggling to keep his end of the conversation going, the reason being that Y/N has now reached the edge of the sofa where he resides. She sits back onto her heels, walking her fingers teasingly across his knees and grasping them with her palms, parting them open widely. “I…”
“For fuck’s sake, H, what are you trying to say?” Mitch snaps; even through the distance, he can feel its bite.
Y/N nuzzles herself between Harry’s opened legs, a hand riding up one of his thick thigh as she sponges wet kisses to his kneecap, grinning into his skin when her fingers duck under the material of his shorts. His cadence comes out strained with the effort of keeping up an unfazed front. “What if I— what if we switch the reservations?”
“How do you mean?”
The human’s fingers travel up the length of his inner thigh, sneaking below his cotton briefs and giving the tip of his semi-hard cock a gentle caress. Harry writhes in his seat, watching with bated breath as Y/N draws her forearm back out from beneath his clothes, her middle finger covered in a bead of precum— a result of all the grinding they’d done while kissing. She locks eyes with him and pushes the digit past her swollen lips, sucking off the small droplet while her lashes flutter in pleasure. She moans softly, his familiar saltiness always so welcomed. Her next whisper is sultry and needy. “You taste so fucking good.”
Harry swallows down a groan and his voice suffers the consequences, coming out shaky and high. “Like...Like what if we switch out the n-names. I could call the hotel and put the rooms under your info instead.”
Mitch is quiet for a second, mulling over his friend’s offer. The instance is long enough for Harry to reach forward and snatch Y/N’s wrist, giving it a dominant squeeze as a scolding grimace dips the ends of his lips and furrows his brows. He mouths his words slowly with an ominous hue, making sure she interprets the message. “That’s enough.”
Y/N twists herself free of his hold, eyes gleaming in challenge. She talks softly as to not be heard through the phone, but she might as well be screaming thanks to Harry’s supernatural hearing abilities. “I don’t think so.”
“Are you really not going, then?”
The gentle tone of Mitch’s question snaps Harry back into reality. He feels bad for flaking on his crew, but he doesn’t really have a choice at this point. Y/N is already here per his request, and kicking her out would be extremely dickish, even by his standards. “I’m booked the rest of the weekend, mate. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”
Y/N proceeds to grab onto the elastic band of Harry’s shorts, pulling the front down to expose the clothed bulge that lies beneath. A soiled patch has formed over the material of his underwear, and he can see her irises twinkle in satisfaction, which causes the faint burning in his veins to intensify. The girl palms him through the fabric, preening at the low, tight grunt that escapes Harry’s flexing throat. A shiver pin-balls down his spine and he tries to grab at her forearm to wrench it away from between his legs, but Y/N is determined to work him into a mess, simply groping him more intently and giggling lightly when his hips thrash in response.
“Alright, I guess that settles it. I’ll just tell the group we’re taking Niall’s car instead, and that Adam and I will take turns driving. Just get the lodging handled, will you?”
“‘Course, I got it, don’t worry.” Harry chokes out, reaching a hand towards Y/N’s hair in a desperate attempt to get a hold of her, but she ducks to evade him. She tugs down his final layer of protection, her mouth immediately finding its way to his large cock and giving it one long lap from base to tip, staring up at him mockingly from beneath heavy lashes. She grasps it in both of her palms, gifting it a few quick pumps and spitting over the head sloppily, rubbing the slit across her bottom lip as she quirks her brows at him in a dare.
The vampire fails to ward off the fracture in his composure this time. “Christ, you’re such a fucking sl—”
He stops himself before he finishes the graphic statement, remembering that everything he says is being directly broadcast to someone else on the other end of his phone. Someone who’s oblivious to the filth currently taking place on Harry’s side of the call. “I’m on it, yeah? I’ll talk to you later.”
“Wait.”
Harry is at the verge of tearing his hair out, his tone teetering at the cusp of sanity. “Yeah?”
“Would you mind telling me why you’re not going? I feel like everyone at least deserves an explanation, especially since you’re dipping on the plans literally the day before.”
The young man quickly clears his throat, forcing himself to keep control as he watches the mortal stick her entire tongue out to run his cock up and down its expanse. “I’ll—I’ll explain when you come back.”
The textured surface sends zaps of lightning surging through every crevice of Harry’s body, but he somehow enables restraint, as weak as it may be. He silently warns Y/N once again about her actions, carding his fingers into her hair and digging the pads into her scalp. “Stop.”
“Also, why are you breathing so hard? What are you even up to right now?”
The human ignores his command, blowing over the leaking hole of his prick and giving it a playful kiss.
“I’m— fuck— I’m...I’m on the treadmill.”
Mitch goes quiet for a heartbeat. “You don’t have a treadmill.”
Y/N tosses her hair over her shoulder, leaning down to rest her cheek along Harry’s inner thigh, giving him the perfect angle to view what she’s about to do. She presses her head forward, slipping his entire cock down her throat and gagging when it hits a sensitive spot in the back, her nails raking down his twitching tummy. She keeps him there for an elongated moment, allowing her walls to tighten around his length just how he likes it, toying with his swollen balls and moaning quietly around his prick. He can feel the vibrations burrow into the marrow of his bones.
“I told you to stop.” He doesn’t even bother mouthing his words this time, mood dark and cautious. He can hear Mitch exclaim in confusion through his speaker, but it’s the last thing on his mind right now.
Y/N’s watery eyes dance with a devious gleam as she grins around his girth, removing him just enough so she can breath properly, rubbing his bubbling tip along the inside of her silky cheek. Her phrase is muffled, but it’s clear enough to completely shatter him. “Make me, Daddy.”
Harry’s features harden. He’s done playing games.
He directs his attention to the microphone, voice calm and collected to the point where it’s frightening, all the tension and instability crumbling to ash. His brows crease dangerously, accent thicker than she’s ever heard it. “I have to go.”
“Harry—”
“I’ll text you after I fix the booking.”
The device beeps and the call ends, the phone falling face-down onto the couch.
The vampire roughly jerks Y/N back by her hair, sitting forward until their noses brush, his cold touch sending a prickling across her cheeks and ears. He addresses her with the same type of undisturbed patience he’d shown his friend, aura teeming with quiet power.
“Get up. Now.”
Y/N ends up with her back pressed into the couch cushions, Harry suspended above her with his knees on either sides of her hips, his cock ramming down her throat harshly as he guides her head with his knuckles twisted into her roots. He’s thrusting forward to meet her mouth, the emerald around his pupils electric with a type of carnal dominance that makes heat pour into her belly. She’s gazing up at him with water streaming freely out of her eyes and spit dripping down her chin, her hands fisting at the leather of the sofa as he fucks her face unrelentingly.
“You think that little stunt was cute? You think teasing me like that was fun?” He growls as he peers down at her, ramming past her raw lips with no remorse, swimming in the damp choking sounds that bounce back from the furniture in the room. “Open wider. Wider.”
She obeys.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To have me down your throat while you gag around it until you can barely breath? To choke on it while you take that heavy load and swallow every drop?”
Y/N bobs her head feverishly, unable to form any coherent sentences due to his violent pace.
The grip Harry has on the crown of her head tightens, his other hand cupping the back of her skull to push her deeper down his shaft, her nose smearing over his happy trail as his heavy balls bump against her slobbery chin. “Take that fucking cock, then. Take every inch like the filthy fucking brat you are.”
Y/N’s blurry eyes lull shut, the edges of her stinging mouth curving upwards as he hits every single one of her desires with a skill only he possesses. She doesn’t know why— or if it’s even healthy, at this point— but she’s never felt more pleasure than when she’s at Harry’s disposal. She just loves seeing him come undone for her.
“God, you like that, don’t you? Like being my little plaything?” The grin dimpling Harry’s cheeks is so utterly erotic and sinful, Y/N feels like she’s damning her soul just by glimpsing at it. He delicately thumbs tears off her cheekbones, contradicting his other much less tame motions. “Baby just wants to feel Daddy cum down her throat, doesn’t she?”
Stars begin spotting the girl’s vision, her mind vignetting as a fulfilling ache settles into her jugular. She nods her head drunkenly, coughing dryly as her lungs rattle with shallow inhales.
Harry gives an exceptionally hard stroke, holding her in place and feeling her constrict around him, her nails digging into the aged leather of his sofa. He takes a pause, broad chest heaving as his head falls back to hang between his shoulder blades, the golden light of his chandeliers reflecting off the red shade inking his irises. His climax begins to tip into his blood. “Say it. Be a good girl and say, ‘please cum for me, Daddy.’”
Y/N’s voice floats out raspy and trembling as she ogles up at the monster wishfully, her ability to speak absolutely frayed from the exertion she’s been put through. Her sentence is barely comprehensible given her full mouth, but watching her try is what gets Harry off. “P-Please cum for me, Daddy.”
Thick ribbons of warmth suddenly erupt down her throat, coaxing a series of garbled moans to pour from Harry’s chest. His whole body tightens as an orgasm floods his system, the muscles of his back drawing taut, his defined biceps jolting, and his lean abdomen clenching in ecstasy. His fern tattoos ripple over his tanned skin as he gives a few more deep strokes for good measure, milking himself to completion and drinking up the tiny noises of sensitivity Y/N makes. He finishes dishing the punishment she’d earned, delivering burst after burst of cum just as he’d promised, feeling her flex around his slick cock as she eagerly swallows every spurt.
“Every last bit, baby. All of it. Christ, that’s my fucking girl. ”
The boy cranes his neck forward again, taking in her disheveled appearance and humming in needy appreciation. Her hair is a disaster from all of his tugging, her eyes are puffy and red, and her lips are flushed and plump. There’s trails of dried tears tracing her cheeks and across her jaw, the collar of her borrowed shirt is soggy with spit, and he can just barely make out the damp patch she’s stained into his boxers along the insides of her thighs. She’s fiddling with her fingers across her lap, continuously shifting around in her seat and clamping her legs together, and Harry comes to the realization that she’s trying to ride the seam of his briefs in order to get a spoonful of relief.
In his sexually demented opinion, she’s looks like a proper angel.
Harry gradually withdraws himself from her mouth, watching with empty content as she sputters into a coughing fit and gulps down air as if she hasn’t had it for weeks. She wipes at the lower half of her face messily with the back of her hand, staring up at him all moony and soft, feeling her cheeks boil at his conceited simper. The vampire carefully tucks his drenched prick back into his clothes, crouching down to her level and lilting his head to the side, tucking a strand of tangled hair behind her heated ear. The pads of his digits streak down the front of her neck and perch at the hollow between her collarbones, her pulse thundering beneath her sweaty flesh. He taps at the center of her throat for significance, tone fond and almost caring. “Is it sore?”
Y/N struggles to get saliva down, rattling her head in agreement since her vocal chords are refusing to work.
Harry folds the hem of his tee over his fingers, reaching forward to help clean up anything leftover across her chin and jaw. Y/N eyes him with a form of detached admiration, enamored with the way he tends to her so gently now that the session has come to a close.
“You like it, though, right?”
The young woman doesn’t even try to mask the fact that she indeed does, nodding her head once again.
“That’s good to hear, pet.” Harry drops his shirt back over his belly, giving her a chaste peck to the nose. Despite the ever-present coldness of his touch, the action sparks a warm glow that surges from the tips of her ears to the heels of her feet. “Want to make sure I wasn’t being too rough.”
He stands up onto his knees, dismounting the sofa and combing a few rouge curls out of his eyes, nudging at her socked foot jestingly with his. Y/N kicks him in return as she busies herself with combing out the knots from her mussed locks, attempting to distract herself from the gnawing running along the inside of her stomach. She needs to get it sedated, but she’s too timid to ask the vampire outright, which she knows is ironic given what they’d just done.
Harry sits down along the marble counter of the coffee table with his forearms propped along his knees, toying with his lionhead daylight ring (it’s the only one he wears at home, out of necessity) as he watches her tend to the mess he’d created. He smiles to himself in satisfied amusement— she always looks so pretty freshly face-fucked.
The monster then notices how the human is still rubbing her thighs together, reminding him that she had been left unattended. He decides that he should do what any gentleman would and provide assistance to the issue; it’s only fair, according to the unspoken laws of their little mutual arrangement. He hooks his fingers along the rim of the table beneath him, dragging it forward until his knees meet the edge of the couch, knocking hers open slightly. He leans back onto his palms as she gives him a curious glance, the olive tone around his pupils glittering with hunger while his fingers tap knowingly along the surface below.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Harry’s eyebrows kink upward. “Can’t a man look in his own home?”
“Of course he can, but just not at me. Staring’s rude. Especially when I’m covered in spit and bodily fluids.”
The boy gives an exaggerated pout, pairing it with a set of puppy dog eyes and a honeyed drawl. “But you look so cute covered in my bodily fluids.”
Y/N stares at him flatly. “Wow. I’m so flattered. I’ll file that compliment right under the one where you said I look adorable with jizz all over my eyelashes.”
“Well, you do! And that was a great compliment, if you think about it. It’s unique and creative— very avant-garde of me.”
“You need brain cells in order to be avant-garde.”
“Just shut up and get on your hands and knees.”
///
Harry drinks from Y/N that night.
He knows Mitch would scold him for it, considering the quota for draft beverages from mortal taps is strictly once a week, per his orders. But the creature just can’t help himself. She smells so sweet, and her neck looks so tempting when her head is turned to the side in sleep; even in the dark, he can see her veins pumping beneath the taut skin. He justifies it by telling himself that any vampire would give into weakness if they were in his place, and it’s not like he’s some uncultured, unhinged newborn who lacks basic control. He’s spent decades refining his impulses and taming his animalistic instincts to the point where he can walk through a butcher shop and not even bat an eye. He’s more than capable of double-dipping without threatening her life.
However, Harry will admit that he does make some embarrassing sounds while he’s fang-deep in her carotid artery. He can’t be expected to withhold them, especially not with how good she tastes. Y/N’s blood reminds him of so many things that he can’t ever quite place its flavor. Sometimes it reminds him of green grapes and champagne, and others it dawns on him in the form of peaches and cream. There’s instances where she doesn’t even fall into the usual spectrum of taste, but rather reminds him of sensations instead of tangible objects. Sometimes she tastes the way the first breath of spring feels— light and soothing, with hints of fresh florals and dewy mornings. Other times, she tastes like strawberries on a summer evening— warm, tangy, and nostalgic. At the risk of sounding like a brain-dead junky, drinking from Y/N is a magical experience that he wishes could last forever; Harry has never found it more difficult to pull back from someone’s throat than when he has to recede from hers.
After the immortal has had his fill, he pricks his finger along one of his fangs and smears a drop of his blood onto Y/N’s tongue, watching the two gaping holes on her neck heal instantaneously and leave behind a faint bruise that will likely be gone by morning. He spends the rest of the night twirling stands of her hair around his fingers and counting her heartbeats, vaguely wondering what it feels like to have one. It’s been so long since he’s carried a pulse, he’s forgotten what it’s like to have it thumping in his chest. All he has left is a phantom organ and not a day goes by where he doesn’t miss its steady rhythm.
The second the first beam of sunlight filters in through the crack in Harry’s window shades, he’s up on his feet pacing around the kitchen, going through his daily morning routine of preparing breakfast with a lively soundtrack to keep him company. That is, until his actual companion awakens; then he happily replaces his playlist with her groggy voice and tired eyes.
Harry has chosen to prepare parfaits as their first meal of the day, scooping vanilla yogurt into two marbled bowls and setting out an abundant array of toppings, smiling to himself at the way Y/N’s eyes light up the room. She fills her platter to the brim with blueberries, chunks of banana, diced peaches, and crushed walnuts, while Harry loads his with tons of raspberries, slices of mango, scoops of granola, and plenty of honey. He runs into some trouble halfway through squeezing out the last ingredient, proceeding to shake it vigorously to try and get rid of the clump blocking the spout. The bottle refuses to cooperate and Harry turns it towards his face to get a better look at the problem, winking one eye shut to focus better on the cap. He gives it another testing squeeze and much to his luck, the jammed portion squirts loose and he ends up with syrup dripping down his face.
Y/N doesn’t even attempt to stifle her amusement, nearly choking on a spoonful of yogurt as laughter takes over her entire body. The vampire stands rigidly beside her, glaring at the teddy bear-shaped container with so much hatred, she thinks it might melt. When the human finally manages to tame her giggles, she reaches up and uses her index finger to collect honey right off Harry’s cheek, sticking the digit into her mouth and sucking it off with a loud pop.
Her friend gives her a deadpan scowl, to which she simply shrugs her brows playfully while gifting him a bright grin. “Now you know what it feels to have a sticky liquid shot into your eye. Doesn’t feel too good, does it?”
“Fuck off.”
“You look pretty, though. Does that make it better?”
“I will literally pour my yogurt onto your hair.”
“Karma’s a bitch, Winnie the Pooh.”
Harry ends up having to shower in order to successfully get rid of the gooey substance, though it’s hardly a hassle given that Y/N gladly joins him. It doesn’t turn too sexual, surprisingly enough.
The duo stand under the shower panel covered in suds, steam floating around their naked bodies as water pelts down on top of them, matting hair to their necks and jaws. Harry doesn’t know why, but he likes the fact that they’re now comfortable enough to be nude around each other outside of their usual dynamic. It’s fulfilling, for some odd reason.
The girl helps the creature scrub off the honey with some facial cleanser, rubbing at his flushed cheeks with her thumbs and fighting off an endeared giggle when he scrunches his nose in annoyance. His voice comes out as a childish whine. “That hurts.”
“Stop being such a baby.” She huffs, going in along his cheekbones and rolling her eyes when he grumbles. “Lean down.”
Harry abides, ducking down so she can get a better angle, casually coasting his hands onto her hips to keep her from losing her footing to the slippery floor. Y/N leans forward onto the tips of her toes, squinting at him through the foggy air as she continues to wash off the syrup, wanting to make sure she isn’t missing a single spot. Harry watches her quietly with his sopping curls sticking to his forehead and along the nape of his neck, lips twitching fondly at how hellbent she is on getting the mess off. Her brows are creased in concentration and her tongue is peeking out of her mouth; he has to restrain the impulse to surge forward and kiss her.
Once Y/N is satisfied with her work, she falls back onto her heels, washing any remnants away under the stream and pushing her drenched strands out of her face. “All done. Try not to do it again.”
“I make no promises.” Harry tuts as he joins her beneath the water, bare chest a mere inch from hers as he quirks his brows coyly. “It got you naked, so I’ll probably do it again.”
“I won’t help next time.”
“Then I’ll just rub my face against yours and get it all over you. Won’t have much of a choice, then.”
“You’re a literal child.”
Y/N grabs the bottle of chamomile shampoo from the shelf carved into the polished stone wall of the shower, uncapping it and pouring a glob into the palm of her hand. She sets the container back down and beckons Harry forward with the forefinger of her free hand. The vampire drifts towards her once again and wraps his arms across the dip of her back, lightly swaying her from side to side as she begins working the shampoo into his roots, the pads of her fingers massaging his scalp in slow circles. The groan that betrays him is pitiful.
Y/N pretends not to hear it, continuing to work a lather into his curls as the boy trails his fingers up and down the center of her spine, the feathery sensation causing her to shiver despite the hot temperature of the water. Harry leans down to nestle his face into the crook of his friend’s neck, laying his head along her shoulder and cradling her to his body as she combs her fingers through his locks. He can’t remember the last time he took a shower with someone just for the sake of it, with no ulterior motive other than to bask in each other’s presence. It’s nice.
Harry begins sponging his lips across the curve of Y/N’s throat, feeling her tense momentarily before relaxing back into his grasp, the pads of her digits scratching at his scalp.
“God, that feels so good.” Harry mumbles, tone so garbled in bliss, it’s barely understandable.
The mortal slowly coaxes him back under the direct line of the shower, thoroughly rinsing the bubbles out of his hair and making sure to carefully wash any leftover shampoo out of his lashes. She then ties her arms around his broad shoulders, gently running her nails up and down the expanse of his muscular back, feeling the tendons unknot under her guidance. Y/N cranes her head to the side and flushes her lips to Harry’s temple, the pattering of the water camouflaging the fact that the area lacks a pulse. She sighs softly in innocent pleasure, the warm air sending a delightful bristling down the young man’s neck and drawing another drunken whimper from his lungs. This all feels therapeutic, almost. Neither had realized how much they missed domesticity until now.
The human suddenly snorts humorously, talking against Harry’s waxy skin. “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to make a move yet.”
Harry rattles his head sleepily, the ridges of his mouth tickling her jugular as he does so. His voice is distant and tender, but his words send a pang of electricity to her core. “I’ll fuck you afterwards. Just wanna enjoy this right now.”
Y/N lets her eyes lull shut, allowing the sheets of hot water to numb her mind the same way it had his, a certain type of mellowness soaking into her bones. Her tone comes out as soothed and detached as her lover’s, all her attention funneled into how incredible his hard body feels pressed to hers in such an intimate fashion, his strong arms clinging to her like a lifeline. “I’m not complaining.”
Even in his distracted state, Harry still somehow manages to wriggle in a smug quip. “Of course you’re not. I give you nothing to complain about.”
“Dickhead.”
Y/N gives his ringlets a spiteful tug, which he responds to with an airy chuckle and a cheeky smack across her ass. The girl jumps slightly with a small gasp and a handful of select curses, which only causes him to cackle even further. “You love that shit, don’t you?”
“Go back to keeping your mouth shut.”
“Mm. S’what I thought.”
Harry keeps his sensual promise, as he always does.
As soon as they exit the shower, he immediately wanders into the bedroom, the only towel in his possession being the one he’s using to shake out his damp curls. Y/N dries off her body patiently as she stands in front of the clouded mirror, rubbing the linen over her softened skin. She handles her hair second, patting and scrunching the water out as she thinks on what Harry could possibly be doing that is taking him so long. She doubts he’s getting dressed, if his earlier intentions are any indication, and he seemed like he had a plan in motion when he’d walked out, so there must be a method to his prolonged absence.
When the monster pads back into the bathroom, he is just as bare as when he’d left, the towel he’d used on his locks crumpled in his large hands. He chucks it into the linen hamper beside the jacuzzi, sauntering up behind Y/N and she has to force herself not to use the mirror to ogle below his waist. She folds her towel neatly onto the counter, reaching forward and wiping the last bit of condensation off the glass so she can get a proper view of Harry’s face. Maybe it’ll help her deduce what he’s plotting.
The boy presses up against her backside, pushing her forward until her hips are wedged between his torso and the edge of the bathroom counter, moving all her stringy hair onto one shoulder with the back of his hand. Harry locks eyes with her through the mirror, speckling a few sloppy kisses along the back of her neck and grinning into her flesh when a shiver coils down her spine. He looks so fucking good with his damp ringlets glued along his sharp jaw, his jade eyes glossy with lascivious intentions, and his cheeks and chest still colored from the hot water, tattoos looking as alluring as ever. He nuzzles the tip of his nose across the shell of her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth and tugging teasingly, the warm air of his low, dominant tone causing her flinch in anticipation.
“Arms behind your back.”
Y/N obeys without a hitch, bringing her hands together atop the alcove at the bottom of her spine. She feels the unmistakable sensation of cold metal looping around her wrists, tightening with soft clicks and pinching at her skin. The cuffs sift into the designated setting and Harry gives them a quick yank to check for security, tying the excess chain link around his knuckles and pulling down harshly. Y/N’s body contorts to his influence, her arms straightening out as her back arches, chest swelling forward while her hips remain perched to the tabletop, held in place by his own. She can feel the head of his cock dab against the back of her thighs, his irises darkening as he surveys her bust with a type of barely-contained desire that sends heat flooding into her abdomen.
Harry ducks his head further down to glue more kisses along the slope of her shoulder, nipping periodically and leaving behind a neat row of love bites that he’ll admire in detail later. The words he murmurs against her skin deliver a sweltering simmer in their wake. “Do you want it rough?”
Y/N swallows thickly, nodding her head several times and whispering a bashful, “Yes.”
“‘Yes’ what?”
The human licks at her lips tentatively, squeaking a tad when gives the metal hoops an expectant tug, urging a reply. “Yes, sir.”
Harry’s lashes flutter shut for a second, the corners of his lips twitching in arrogant satisfaction. “You’ve got the filthiest tongue, but you know how to make it say the sweetest things, don’t you, baby?”
“Only for you.”
“No one else?”
“No one else.”
The vampire’s eyes open slowly, head tilting to the side to assess her with sly amusement. “You wanna know how I can tell that’s the truth?”
Y/N’s joints are starting to ache due to the position he’s fixed her in, but she doesn’t mind the burn. It feeds into the appeal. “H-How?”
Harry leans forward, brushing his wet lips up her jaw, the tip of his cock spreading her open just a smidge. “Because every time I fuck you, you’re always so bloody tight. Means I’m the only one stretching out that snug little cunt.”
A broken whine escapes Y/N’s sore throat— courtesy of what had occurred the night prior— and she squirms in the brunette’s grip, trying to shimmy her way further down his length. She’s anxious to feel him fill her. “Deeper.”
“Pardon?”
“Go deeper. Want it all.”
Harry raises an eyebrow in impressed curiosity. “You want it all in one go? Don’t want me to prep you first?”
She shakes her head stubbornly, pushing back against him and succeeding in sinking an inch or so. Harry’s entire face hardens as she clenches around the head of his prick, attempting to ride down further to sedate her desperate need. He twists his fist tighter around the chain, his other hand coming up to grip her throat, forearm pressed between her breasts as he gets a decent hold to prepare for what’s to come.
“If it gets to be too much,” Harry dabs a gentle kiss onto her cheek; it’s to communicate the importance of the message amidst the tense atmosphere, “you know to tell me, right?”
“Mmhm.”
“Alright. Ready?”
“Always.”
Y/N nearly passes out. Even though she’s grown accustomed to Harry’s size and girth, it somehow never fails to shock her into a state of unexpected rapture. He just fits so well inside her— hits every nook and crevice like he was meant to touch every single one. That, combined with his unrelinquishing thrusts and sinful dirty talk...It’s enough to render anyone helpless. It’s certainly enough to have her shaking and screaming against his chest, and it’s definitely more than enough to drive her towards an orgasm that she knows will blow out her legs for at least the rest of the day.
Harry fucks into her just how she’d requested— rough and vehement. He presses her bare back to his chest by using the hold he has around her throat, her head falling backwards onto his shoulder as he pounds into her belly from behind. His other hand is braided into the chain between the cuffs, controlling how her body seizes up and gives way. She’s standing on the tips of her toes, legs spread open as much as her weak knees will support, scraggly breaths stuttering from her nose and mouth as shattered noises of ecstasy decorate the space the fading steam has left behind. Her hips are ramming forward against the rim of the counter, the marble knocking against her pubic bone to the point where she knows bruises will develop later on. She doesn’t mind it; she loves seeing the memories Harry brands onto her, whether that be in the form of hickies across her thighs, fingerprints over her waist, or his rings fanned out across the swell of her ass. She’ll take anything he’s willing to give.
The vampire is dismantling just as quickly as she is, obvious in the fractured growls and soft grunts he’s puffing against the side of her face. His pink-polished nails dig into her jugular, fingers twitching as her heartbeat hammers against his palm, sending vibration down his whole nervous system. His cock is slicking into her easily and it’s obvious the anticipation of what he had said during their bath had gotten to her; he can feel how wet she is with every stroke. It’s dripping down her quivering thighs and smearing all over his tiger head tattoo, damp slaps resonating from where her backside hits against his tinted pelvis.
Harry stares down hazily at where he’s spreading her open, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as tiny mewls itch along the back of his raw throat, her own sounds playing across his ears with each buck of his thighs. They float through the heavy air like a lullaby and he can confidently say he’d listen to her moans forever, if time allowed.
“I think it’s funny,” Harry starts with a comedic edge to his strained voice, mimicking the introduction Y/N had used the day before when they’d been in the jacuzzi, “that you’re always so willing to let me use you however I want. That you literally beg me to take you this hard. It’s almost pitiful, really, that you never had anyone fuck you right before I came along.”
The girl squirms in his arms, her hands flat against his abdomen, nails carving into his flesh. Her sentences come out cracked and almost pained. “I-I wish I’d met you sooner.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.” Harry grits against the shell of her ear, smirking when she worries her lower lip beneath her top teeth, trying to keep a tab on what he knows is probably an embarrassingly loud keen. “I bet you wish you’d had me back home, huh? Spent all your time fucking around with those vanilla small-town boys, never had a real man treat you the way you wanted. Bet you didn’t even like those pricks, did you, darling?”
Y/N shakes her head vigorously in response. “They were so boring. You’re so much better.”
She’s working his praise kink like a charm.
“Poor thing.” Harry scoffs sympathetically, running his grasp upwards until his thumb and forefinger rope around her jaw. He maneuvers her head into place, forcing her to look at herself in the mirror, hissing his words lowly. “Eyes up. See how pretty you look taking every last bit of that cock? And the way your tummy’s bulging? That’s how you know the sex is good— that’s how it’s supposed to look.”
Y/N gazes upon the image her friend is referring, her exhales hiccuping in her chest at the way an obvious bump rises in her belly every time he thrusts inside. Not only that, but Harry just looks incredible, as well, with his heavily inked arm flushed between her breasts, the art flexing to life as he yanks her down against his lap by her neck. She can see the sweat beading his hairline, his freshly-washed ringlets jumping to his movements as he groans into her scalp.
Y/N’s lips part in a silent moan and the immortal takes this chance to shove his first two fingers into her mouth, weighing them against her tongue and instructing her with a clear, deep accent. “Suck.”
She does so obediently, her cheeks hollowing as she gasps around the digits, swiveling to match his tempo. Between her glistening body, the needy expression painted across her appearance as she conforms to his every demand, and the way her walls are clinging to him like a vice as she eagerly licks and suckles at him…
Harry loses it.
“Fucking hell.” The monster unclamps the hand he has around her jugular and Y/N drops back down onto her heels, ankles quaking now that she has to carry her own weight. His palm finds refuge along the back of her skull instead, proceeding to shove her head down towards the counter, pulling at the cuffs to finagle her into a folded position. “Bend over.”
Y/N does as told, a small, “mm!” plucking at her vocal chords as Harry pushes her cheek down against the cold marble situated between his two sinks. He pins her head to the surface and she casts her attention upwards to try and get a peek of him through the glass. His eyes look unnaturally dark, though she can’t quite place the shade given her limited view.
The vampire makes sure the chain link is secured around his knuckles, proceeding to use the toy to bounce Y/N against his cock. He yanks her towards his torso until she thunks wetly against his base, using his hips to push her forward harshly and pulling out until his tip is barely grazing her entrance. He repeats this action over and over, weak whimpers spilling shamelessly from his plump ruby lips as he keeps her face fastened down, maintaining some form of consistent stability. Every fiber of his being sparks with bliss as he watches her jerk against the counter, back caving forward and causing her naked chest to bulge against the stone panel. One of these days, she’s going to drive him mental. He swears it.
“There’s a good girl, minx.” Harry’s head tips backwards, bobbing back and forth as his sticky chest heaves with the exertion of keeping him tethered to reality. “Take it just like that, yeah? God, you should see the way you’re so snug around me. Love that cock, don’t you? Say it. Tell me you love it.”
Y/N’s fingers curl into loose fists against the dip of her spine, nails digging into her palms. “I love your cock, Harry. I love it so much. Don’t stop, please don’t fucking— oh!” He prods over her g-spot and she shudders below him. “Shit, keep going! Right there, right there, right there— oh my God!”
“Right here? Is that what’s gonna make my dirty little whore cum?” Harry grinds his teeth, ignoring the rouge curls falling into his furrowed brows, jabbing the spongy area with continuous plunges. “More? Look at how you’re shaking, baby. And you’re just so fucking wet. Absolutely soaked and... and fuck, that’s my sweet girl.”
The boy keeps delivering every plea she chokes out, his climax beginning to froth at the trench of his stomach and along the underside of his balls. A familiar glow starts to pour into his dormant veins. “I’m almost there, dove. Gonna fill you up until it runs down your thighs.”
“Y-You’re so good, I can’t fucking— I’m gonna—”
“Beg for it. Beg for Daddy, princess.”
Y/N does so with no remorse, confessing to him how much she wants his load, telling him that she needs to feel him spill inside her all warm and thick and heavy. A dark, open-mouthed smirk adorns Harry’s features as he fucks a throbbing ache between her thighs, feeling his mind completely slip. He may be damned with eternal life, but in this instant, the immortal feels like he touches heaven.
Then, that moment of pure euphoria is stripped away by the sound of his front door clicking open.
Harry’s eyes snap awake, all his motions coming to an abrupt halt. He shushes a protesting Y/N quietly, tuning his heightened hearing to make sure he hadn’t imagined the sound.
But no, it’s very much real. It’s followed by the noise of the lock clanking back into its hole, and then three pairs of footsteps begin echoing down the hallway that leads to his living room. He recognizes every single one and unhinged rage suddenly flares around his pupils, potent and bright red. If Y/N wasn’t in such a compromisable position, he wouldn’t have gotten away with that slip-up.
“Christ, you’ve got to be fucking shitting me.”
Harry carefully withdraws himself from between the mortal’s legs, wincing a bit at the loss of suction and feeling a spoonful of guilt stem from the disappointed whine Y/N sobs. His swollen, leaking cock sways lightly as he takes a cautious step back, testing to see if he’s capable of moving without face-planting the ground. His mind is misty and he’s obviously drenched in the pungent scent of sex, but other than that, he reckons he can manage just fine. Especially with the newfound anger coursing through his nerves— a direct result of the unexpected trio of intruders chatting nonchalantly on the floor below.
Harry stumbles towards the exit of the bathroom, knees wobbly and head spinning, an unsatisfied gnawing toiling in his groin. He needs to get that taken care of as soon as possible, but he can’t until he gets rid of the three morons milling around his foyer. He snatches his cherry blossom silk robe from the hook on the wall, wrapping it around himself tightly and making sure to cover all his assets to prevent any mishaps.
He glances up at a pouting Y/N as he ties off the ribbon around his waist, walking back and helping her onto her unstable feet, cooing apologetically. “Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I heard some visitors come in downstairs ‘cause, apparently, they don’t understand the concept of privacy. This is the last time I’m trusting anyone with an extra key.”
The girl leans back against one of the sinks, blinking up at him emptily as he thumbs over her chin in comfort. Her voice is hardly audible, raw with exhaustion. “How...How did you know they were here? I didn’t hear them come in...”
Harry pauses for a moment, clearing his throat awkwardly and pecking her on the nose to insert a distraction. He throws some humor into the mix as well, wanting to steer the conversation to safe grounds, opting for using a bit of compulsion to get the job done. His pupils dilate as his sentences swim around her head in a soothing voice, heavy with persuasion. “I heard the door slam shut. I guess you were a little too busy screaming my name to notice.”
Y/N’s pupils expand to match his, her face going slack as the supernatural magic sews into her thoughts and molds her perspective to his story. Her lashes flutter in mild confusion, brows cinching as her brain recalibrates itself. The creases in her forehead dissolve as all of her doubt melts away, the corners of her plump lips quirking at his snarky remark. “I guess so.”
“Can’t blame you, though.” Harry taps at her bottom lip cheekily, shrugging his brows. “I was giving it to you pretty good.”
“Stop being such an arrogant little shit.” Y/N rolls her foggy eyes, but she can’t hide the way her heartbeat spikes— not from him. Then, her face suddenly wracks with embarrassment, eyes shattering with humiliated realization. “Oh my God, that means they probably heard everything…”
Oh, they definitely heard everything, Harry thinks. They’ve got nothing better to do other than pry.
He nurses her downcast face with his cold palm, one shoulder rising and falling casually to show it’s no big deal. “Don’t worry about it, hm? I’m gonna go kick them out, anyways, so you won’t have to deal with it.”
The pet name and his kind gesture eases her woes a bit, but not much. “Still. I’m never showing my face in public ever again.”
Now it’s the vampire’s turn to roll his eyes at her theatrics. “Just stay here, yeah? It’ll only take a second, and then…” Her friend gives her naked body a suggestive once-over, licking at the corner of his mouth. “Then we can finish what we started.”
Y/N kicks at his ankle, jokingly chastising him for his wandering gaze as she fiddles with her fingers within the handcuffs. “Just go.”
The moment Harry’s bare feet step off the last rung of his staircase, he begins spewing venom at the three imbeciles standing around at the mouth of his entrance corridor.
“Are you fucking dense?” He stomps up towards the group of young men with balled fists and bristling irises, all his spite trained on Mitch. “I told you I was busy! That suggests that you should’ve stayed away for the weekend! It meant, ‘leave me alone,’ not ‘come to my flat unannounced.’”
“Yeah, we know you’re busy.” Niall boasts with a loud scoff, shaking his head as an afterthought. “I think the whole building knows, at this point.”
The Irish bloke grabs Xander, who catches onto what the man is doing and happily takes a part in the action. He bends over while Niall grasps onto his shoulders and begins to mimic thrusting, arching his back forward and shaking his ass. He sucks one of his fingers into his mouth, moaning profusely to add authenticity to their vulgar reenactment. “Oh, Harry! Right there, don’t stop!”
Niall drops his voice a few octaves for symbolism, putting on a shitty British accent as he bucks against Xander’s backside. “Yeah, baby, you like that? Like it right there? Tell me how much you love that cock.”
Harry’s jaw clenches as he tries to ignore them, refusing to give rise to their taunting. The two boys break into a puddle of giggles at his expense, nudging each other triumphantly and eventually dying down. Harry isn’t normally the type of person to daydream about violence— why would anyone partake in something so barbaric when dismantling an enemy psychologically is so much better?— but he finds himself fantasizing about tearing Niall and Xander’s hands off and using them as ping-pong paddles.
Mitch shifts his body towards his best friend, arms crossed loosely with an expression of sheer amusement painted across his bearded face, seeming undisturbed by Harry’s rampage and deadly grimace. “It’s nice to see you, too, H.”
The younger vampire takes a measured inhale, swallowing down the urge to rip the older man’s mustache clean off. He directs his next sentence at all of them, glaring intently as his voice comes out flat and harsh. “Get out.”
Niall raises his palms in peaceful surrender, proceeding to use an index finger to signal hastily between his impromptu porno co-star and himself. “Don’t look at us, this was Mitch's idea. We just came along.”
“None of you should have come at all.” Harry spits, tightening his lean arms over his chest, biceps rippling under the thin silk of his elegant robe. “What do you want?”
A soft giggle suddenly bursts from Xander and he momentarily slaps his hand over his mouth to muddle it, but his eyes continue to dance with mirth. “Sorry, I just can’t take you seriously in that.” He juts his chin towards Harry’s pajamas. “I think my grandmother had one just like it.”
“Yeah, I stole this from her place right after I pissed on her grave.” The brunette snaps with an exaggerated smile, feeling a flare of evil satisfaction at the way Xander’s grin immediately plops. Niall snorts loudly and tries to cover it up, but it fails and he is left having to brace the brunt of the other boy’s contempt.
Harry turns back to face Mitch while the other two immortals bicker, now aware that he is the mastermind behind this entire coup. “What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you have left for Vegas already?”
“Yeah, we should have.” He answers pointedly with a soft, dejected sigh. Harry has to keep himself from casting his gaze away in guilt.
The annual trip had been a tradition he and Mitch had started in the nineties, just them two. As their group had expanded, so had the attendant list, and now it was something special their whole clique did together to put some extra excitement— something stable to look forward to— into the endless years they had ahead. No one had missed out on the trip in the last thirty years, especially not willingly, and no one ever thought Harry— the co-founder of the event— would be the one to break that streak. He can tell Mitch is upset.
“I’m sorry.” Harry mumbles, squeezing at the inside of his elbows and putting as much genuine emotion into his demeanor as possible. “It just slipped my mind and I made another commitment that I can’t bail on. But it won’t happen again, I promise. Betsy swear.”
Mitch’s downturned lips jolt slightly at the mention of his old bayonet. He had kept the weapon after the American Revolution had ended, as a tribute to the old life he was leaving behind after he transitioned, naming it fondly after his mother. With all of that history taken into appeal, it’s no wonder the item means a lot to him. That is exactly why the two best friends had developed a dynamic around it.
They would tie an oath to the object in order to ensure it would be kept, and if the promise was broken, the other would get to stab the traitor with it. The game had been something Mitch and Harry had conjured up decades ago while under the influence of some very strong psychedelics, but it had stuck, for some reason. It’s simply a playful inside joke, and though it’s a tad gruesome, it’s hardly an issue considering they both self-heal quickly. Any damage inflicted is equivalent to that of a rubber band snapping against their skin, so in the end, no harm, no foul. At its core, it’s just a vampire’s version of a pinky swear, hence the term, “Betsy swear.” Harry had thought about getting it patented, at one point.
The jade-eyed boy feels a weight lift off his shoulders as Mitch indulges one of his signature quiet chuckles. “Alright, fine. Betsy swear, then. The reason we’re here is ‘cause I wanted to check up on you before we left, and ‘cause I wanted to make sure you switched the reservation. You never got back to me about it.”
“Oh, my bad. I got it done, though. Everything should check out.” Harry reassures, waving away his visitor’s doubt. He’d tended to the job last night after Y/N fell asleep and he meant to send a confirmation text, but forgot when the mortal had begun to stir randomly. He’d had to put away his phone and pretend to be unconscious for a few minutes until her agitation melted away, resulting in the deed going undone, courtesy of the mild panic that had dulled his memory. “Why didn’t you just text me about it?”
Mitch gives him a deadpan look, pursing his lips to fight off an entertained grin. “Oh, I did. Multiple times, actually. But I reckon you were too busy with the treadmill to notice.”
The older creature’s reference works as intended, an irritating flush crawling up Harry’s neck and pouring into his ears, garnering a fit of cackles on his companion’s behalf.
“Fuck off.” Harry grumbles as he shoves Mitch’s shoulder, but the insult is hard to take seriously when he’s wrestling a smirk of his own.
“Is it the girl from the club?” The lanky man inquires curiously, tilting his head to the side with an impressed air. “It’s been, what, four weeks now? That’s a record, I think. You’ve never kept one around that long.”
“What can I say, the sex is good.” Harry shrugs easily, tucking a couple of rebellious curls away from his eyes, which gleam crimson red as a supporting factor to his next comment. “And the blood is even better.”
Mitch rolls his irises playfully. “Alright, Casanova, pipe down.” He glances over his friend’s rumpled appearance, taking in the slightly damp skin, wild hair, and the plethora of faded hickies peeking through the boy’s robe, littering his chest and collarbones. “She’s got you on a tight leash, I see.”
“It’s only fair, considering she spends most of that time in my handcuffs. Quid pro quo and all that.” Harry quips back, bursting into laughter when Mitch gags dramatically.
“You know you could’ve just brought her along, right?” Mitch suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets. “We each have our own rooms, remember? No one would get in the way of your little late night jogs. Though I can’t say the same for the other hotel guests. She’s not necessarily subtle.”
Harry presses his tongue along the inside of his cheek coyly. “It’s not my fault I’m good in bed. It’s a curse, really. Could never get away with dressing room sex.”
He contemplates Mitch's offer for a second. He thinks it could be a fun time, but then he recalls that the trip to Vegas is a week-long party, which Y/N can’t indulge because she works a regular nine-to-five. Plus, a human in a car full of vampires sounds like the introduction to an ominous joke. Something is bound to slip, especially because no one in the crew is used to having humans around outside of meal hours. He doesn’t want the responsibility of constantly having to wipe her brain.
Aside from that, most of the vampires that mill around Vegas aren’t as cultured as Harry’s friends. They lack restraint, a conscience, and fear of consequences, given that the city’s crazy reputation provides the perfect cover for all those dangerous behaviors. That makes them deadly predators to someone as trusting and unsuspecting as Y/N, and having to continuously protect her would be too much of a hassle. It’s supposed to be a vacation; the last thing he needs is for it to turn into an episode of Shark Week. It’s best to stay put.
Harry shakes his head after a minute, clearing his throat. “But I think I’m good. Bringing along a human isn’t worth all the trouble she might cause. Thank you, though.”
Mitch bobs his head in understanding, well aware of the problems Harry is alluding to. “You have a point.” He pauses for a second in thought, shaking his head at the idea of having to deal with the insanity that surrounds their Vegas siblings. “I guess I’ll just see you next week, then, yeah? Better get going.”
The younger vampire mirrors his nod, opening his arms for a hug, which Mitch gladly takes. He’s not one for affection, that much is clear, but he makes certain exceptions here and there, and of course his friends file under that category. And every now and then, Y/N does too.
“See you next week.” He pulls away from the embrace with a hard pat to Mitch’s shoulder, smiling softly. “Send tons of pictures, okay? And videos of Niall getting shitfaced. I need new blackmail content.”
“Will do.” Mitch squeezes his best friend’s shoulders tightly, beaming at him in return. He then cranes towards his two fellow guests, whistling to gain their attention from the passionate conversation they seem to be having about Harry’s robe. “Time to head out, Bonnie and Clyde.”
“Who’s who?” Niall questions childishly, raising an eyebrow. “Because I think I should be Clyde. Xander has Bonnie vibes.”
“No I don’t!”
“Yes, you do.” The Irish boy reasons, cocking his head knowingly. “You seem like the type who would cheat on a murderer with another criminal from the same jail. You’ve got a knack for drama, like most women.”
Xander crosses his arms stubbornly. “No, I don’t.”
“You do, actually.” Harry butts in, eyes twinkling slyly as the group starts to wander towards the exit. He decides to get revenge for the teasing from earlier. “You moan just like one, too.”
Xander blushes bright red, diving into the shadow of the corridor to avoid any more ridicule. “I’m leaving.”
“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”
The other vampires laugh as they follow behind Harry’s ex-fling, waving their final goodbyes. As soon as the front door echoes shut, the immortal turns on his heel and heads back towards the glass stairs, beginning to undo the silk ribbon knotted around his hips.
He’s got his own partner in crime to attend to.
///
That night, Y/N and Harry end up bidding each other farewell in the corridor of his condo.
That seems to be a common theme in their relationship, he’s come to find. It’s usually the entrance to her own apartment instead of his, but the motif is there, nonetheless: They always end up meeting in a hallway, every single time.
“Thanks for having me over.” Y/N murmurs in her signature gentle dialect, smiling delicately as she skids the toe of her sneaker against the ground of the carpet outside his door, trying to keep the butterflies in her tummy tame. It was an incredible two days— maybe the best weekend she’s ever had, if she’s being honest. “I had a lot of fun.”
Harry leans his bare shoulder against his threshold, clad in nothing but a pair of royal blue boxers and black ankle socks, freely showing off the collection of love bites and scratches Y/N had so kindly finished gifting him a few hours ago. She’d gone wild the second he’d unlocked the metal cuffs and he’s more than happy with the results.
The stains speckle his broad chest and the expanse of his taut neck, dark and obvious beneath the complex’s buttery lighting. Bruises trace down his stomach and across his ribs, a neat row of four hickies centered vertically between his two fern inkings. They disappear suggestively under the elastic band of his underwear and she can feel flashes of heat layer across her cheeks, her mind recalling all the filthy sounds he’d made when she had created them.
The human peels away from the artwork that is Harry’s marked torso, glancing around nervously at the fact that some stranger might see the fruit of their actions. The vampire’s lips twitch at her concern; it baffles him how she can be such a devil in between the sheets, but such a shy, reserved angel in every other aspect. It’s cute.
Harry reaches forward and takes her warm fingers into his larger hand, thumbing over her knuckles appreciatively as his irises glitter smugly amidst his lashes, a smirk stringing his pillowy mouth. “We always have a lot of fun.”
Y/N squeezes his palm playfully, gnawing into her cheek and humming in agreement. “That, we do.”
A moment of comfortable silence suspends the air between them, the only sound being the faint footsteps of people on the levels above and below, alongside the light skidding of the elevator as it delivers patrons to their destinations. Harry is the first to speak up again.
“What was your favorite part?”
Y/N blinks up at him blankly, slightly startled at the random question, but moreso at being put on the spot.
“Oh, uh…” She laughs shakily, struggling to recall everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. There had been so much bare skin and desperate tongues involved, she can hardly pick through her memories without her ears prickling. “I think...I think the shower was my favorite. It was nice and relaxing. Helped me unwind.”
Harry nods in recognition, turning through the pages in his mind and skimming through the instance she’s referring. “It was pretty nice, yeah. You look good in a soap beard.”
Y/N scoffs at his joking compliment. “Thanks. I’ll grow it out more often. Just for you.”
The young man reaches up and grips over his chest in fake passion, face contorted into a wistful expression. “That’s all I ask.”
The pair break into childish giggles and the sensation of Harry rubbing across the top of her hand is starting to make her head fuzzy. “What about yours? What was your favorite?”
Harry mulls over his own topic for a few seconds, lips puckering in thought as his eyes narrow pensively. The comically adorable picture makes Y/N’s heart skip.
“I think…” Harry lists his gaze downwards back onto his patiently-awaiting friend, lips spreading into his patented dazzling smile. “I think it was probably the Hamilton reenactment.”
Y/N brows jump, mood slightly unconvinced. “Really?”
The vampire nods confidently, his own eyebrows inching upwards, voice amused. “Why is that so hard to believe?”
Y/N shrugs offhandedly, glimpsing down at where the ridges of his thumb are delivering soothing shots of bliss into her veins. “You’re just so...y’know...you… so I guess I just expected you’d have a preference for the more…” She chooses her next words carefully, not wanting to be so brazen with the risk of someone overhearing, “...intimate parts of the weekend.”
“Wow, okay. Just call me a whore to my face, then. That’s fine.”
Y/N throws her free hand upwards in a fist, slugging Harry on the shoulder with appalled shock overtaking her features. His boyish chuckles echo off the walls of the building as she whips her head around to make sure no one had witnessed his dirty bluntness. “You know what I mean!”
“Yeah.” He purposefully raises his voice, nearly shouting the following sentence just to get on her nerves. “You’re slut-shaming me!”
Y/N surges forward, trying to clamp her hand over his mouth and save herself the embarrassment. “Harry, shut up!”
He easily fights her off, his supernatural strength beating hers tenfold. She ends up wrapped in his embrace, flushed against his hard chest as he sticks his tongue out at her mockingly. He drops his tone back down to normal, his two front teeth digging into his lower lip to keep more laughter from bubbling over. “That’s not nice. You should stop conforming to society’s outdated ‘sex is taboo’ narrative.”
“I wasn’t—” Y/N starts insistently, but then she realizes she’s become almost as loud as him so she forces her voice to taper into an alarmed hiss instead. “I wasn’t slut-shaming you! I was simply expressing—”
“You just see me as a toy, don’t you?” The creature cuts her off, lips dipping downwards into a glorified frown. He proceeds to bat his lashes and sniffle, packing as many theatrics as possible into his mopey act. “I have feelings, y’know? My big dick and cunnilingus skills aren’t my only redeeming qualities! You should be ashamed of yourself for objectifying me like that.”
Y/N presses her lips together to ward off an immature grin, rattling her head to get herself under control. She gives him a stern look, warning him to cut it out. “Stop being a child.”
“Stop using me for sex and making derogatory assumptions about my promiscuity.”
“Oh, hop of it! You use me right back. It’s mutual.”
“Which is why the slut-shaming is such a paradox.”
“For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t fucking— You know what? You can’t even pin me on the objectification part because you do it to me all the time!”
“Oh, is that so?” Harry prods with a humorous tilt of his head, squeezing at her love handles and swimming in the way she wriggles around. “Elaborate.”
“When you slapped my ass in the shower. Or when you put your hand under my shirt to play with my chest while we watch TV.” Y/N debates, poking at the thorax of his butterfly tattoo. “Very objectifying, if you ask me.”
“Mm, not quite, darling.” The vampire shakes his head and draws her closer, ducking down to flirt the tip of his nose along the slope of hers. “There’s a difference.”
“Oh, yeah?” She digs her nails into his pectorals, discreetly savoring the strong muscles. “What is it?”
Harry glimpses down at where she’s carving indents into his flesh, enjoying the minute pain more than he should. He drifts his mouth closer towards her ear, inhaling the scent of his shampoo wafting from her silky strands of hair. “The difference is that you’re usually begging me to do all those things.”
Y/N’s teeth grind in begrudging defeat, her spine giving a surrendered shiver at his crude point. “Whatever.”
Harry releases her body, haughty victory written all over his posture. “I rest my case.”
Y/N’s pride blazes, a threat falling from her tongue sharply, but it holds no true intentions. “Maybe I should just stop asking you to, then.”
“You won’t.” The boy sighs airily, tapping his bare foot against the ground without a care in the world. “You like me too much.”
“Even if I like you, I’d have enough dignity to stop seeing you if I wanted.” Y/N huffs, making a face at him to emphasize her stance. “It’s this little thing called ‘willpower.’”
“Yeah, well, we both know you and your willpower are gonna end up texting my number Friday night, asking me to come over for some more interior design advice.” Harry snarkily dismisses, presenting a scenario where he’s holding an invisible phone in his hands, pretending to tap out a message. His voice comes out high-pitched, mimicking her own. “Hey, one of the rungs on my headboard came loose. Can you come help me fix it?”
Y/N stares at him with eyes half-lidded in pettiness. “I don’t sound like that.”
“You’re right. You’re a tad more nasally.”
“Asshole.”
“I’m just calling it like I see it, love.”
Y/N socks him on the shoulder again as retribution, though it barely has an impact.
After a couple heartbeats full of vengeful silence, Y/N chimes up with a jesting tone, though the manner in which she’s picking at her nails tells Harry she’s slightly anxious. “Hypothetically speaking, if I were to send out a text inviting you to come over Friday...would you?”
A lopsided simper pops the immortal’s dimples awake. He shifts on his feet, crossing his ankles nonchalantly. “Hypothetically speaking, I think I could very well make it.”
Y/N chews on her lower lip as the apples of her cheeks jolt. “Ok, well...Let’s say— once again, hypothetically— that I should be home by eight that day. Would that work for you?”
Harry cocks his head from side to side as if churning the offer around his mind. “I think that, hypothetically, that fits right into my schedule.”
The human’s belly flops in giddy excitement. “Great. It’s booked, then. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”
“Of course.” Harry agrees, the reply accompanied by a teasing furrow of his sculpted brows and a curt nod.
Y/N clasps her hands in front of her thighs with finality, giving him a bright smile. “Alright, then. I’ll see you next week.”
“Next week.” Harry confirms with a cheeky wink, running his tongue along his top teeth to keep from bursting into giggles. “Hypothetically.”
“Hypothetically.” Y/N states with a slight bow of her head, tucking one hand into the back pocket of her dark jeans as she takes a step back from the front door with a small wave. She turns on her heel to face the elevator at the other end of the hall, her foot lifting to take the first step towards the exit.
“Wait.”
The mortal looks back towards her friend, eyebrows poised in question.
Harry scratches at the nape of his neck, smiling softly. “I could really go for a goodbye kiss. Not-so-hypothetically.”
Y/N blinks at him in wonder. He’s never asked for one before.
The awkward aura that quickly fills the space between them becomes suffocating. He considers the option of telling her he was just joking to spare himself the humiliation, but he doesn’t get the chance. Y/N lurches forward, teetering onto the tips of her toes and buttoning her lips to his. The spontaneous action makes him swallow his words.
He fumbles to cup her jaw, kissing her back with just as much fervor and feeling the coldness of his skin fizzle away under her inherent warmth. The gesture isn’t sexual or desperate, but simply sweet and fulfilling. He enjoys it, though it’s not surprising given that he enjoys her lips touching him in any and every way imaginable. He’s not exactly sure why he’d made this particular request— it’s very out of character for him, in every sense of the phrase— but he deduces it’s likely because he wants one more thing to cling onto until he gets to feel her mouth again. It’s not uncommon to want a little something extra to get through the tougher nights, so it’s truly not that big of an occurrence. It’s only reasonable.
Y/N breaks their exchange, eyes glassy and so beautifully clear as she pecks his chin one last time in a polite farewell. “Text me if you need me...And especially if you need me.”
Harry gulps thickly at the suggestive statement, nodding numbly as her body heat slips away. “Will do. Thanks. And thanks for the kiss. Needed it to tide me over until Friday.”
“My pleasure. See you later, Holmes.”
Harry waits patiently until Y/N’s figure disappears behind the gilded doors of the fancy elevator, watching the closed slates of metal glint coldly under the blurry lighting of the condominium’s corridor. He walks back into his apartment, shutting the door gently and slouching into the plush cushions of his leather sofa with a detached sigh. He gazes up at his extravagant chandeliers, once again left in the empty solitude he’d grown so fond of in his extensive lifetime. There’s not a single sound or motion invading his seclusion, not a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his rug, and everything is so still and quiet, it’s almost deafening. But despite every aspect being as it should, he can’t shake the sensation that something is off. Something is wrong. Something’s missing.
And for the first time in years, he finds himself feeling more lonely than alone.
///
It only takes Harry about an hour of uneventful isolation to realize he’s made a grave mistake.
He should have gone on the trip.
Despite the fact that the vampire lives alone, he very rarely spends any time without seeing his friends. Since they all reside in the same building, it’s fairly easy for him to find some entertainment whenever boredom strikes. He’ll either go up a floor to Mitch’s place to watch a movie or mess around with his collection of vintage guitars, or he’ll go a level below to visit Adam and talk about any new art exhibits opening up around the area. He could visit Niall three floors above to play some FIFA on his gaming console and share porn recommendations, or even take the elevator to the twelfth floor to bother Xander and talk some shit while they do each other’s nails. And if Harry’s feeling extra needy for attention, he could always just invite them all over to his place so the group could go out for some Thai food at the restaurant down the street, or go see a movie at the cinema, or take a ride to their favorite local bar.
No matter the circumstances, his friends are always readily available for him when he needs them, so he very solemnly spends his days alone. That is, until now.
The entire crew had left for the Vegas trip and— as a result of his own irresponsibility and immature hormones— had left him all by himself for the next seven days. He would never admit it aloud to spare himself the ridicule of being overly sappy, but he misses the group. He misses Mitch’s soft voice and quiet wittiness, and he misses Adam’s cheeky banter and random fun facts, and he misses Niall’s inappropriate jokes and boisterous laughter, and he even misses Xander’s annoying digs and childish pettiness. He didn’t know how much he took it all for granted until it was gone.
For the rest of the week, Harry is practically miserable. The guys don’t text him much, which can be expected since the whole point of the holiday is to enjoy every second of it; there would be no point in traveling four hours just to sit in their hotel and message him. He talks to Y/N a bit, but she is also occupied most of the time with work, given that she had to take on a few extra shifts on behalf of her co-workers. The earliest she goes in is six A.M., the latest she comes out is nine P.M., and by then, Harry reckons she’s probably falling asleep in the entrance corridor of her home. He understands her exhaustion and therefore doesn’t expect her to humor him; it wouldn’t be fair.
With everyone in his life busy and with his flat feeling colder and emptier than ever, it’s a miracle he doesn’t go mad within its walls. He goes out a handful of times to do some grocery shopping, for a run around a nearby park, and to take a walk along his favorite mall, but that’s it, really. He doesn’t go out to eat simply because he thinks it would be embarrassing having to sit alone at a restaurant; it’s pitiful and sad and he’s not going to subject himself to that. The most stimulating social interaction he has that week is a tie between a bit of flirting with a Target cashier, some suggestive gazing exchanged with a Starbucks barista, and a couple of cheeky caresses from a Gucci store employee taken while measuring his waist for a custom order. None of it satisfies him the way it normally does, though, and he can’t place why.
By the time Friday evening rolls around, Harry is a hair short from letting his regular case of stir-crazy slip into a full-on psychotic break. That’s why he ends up at Y/N’s complex earlier than the agreed-upon hour, stepping out of his Cadillac with twenty minutes left to spare and with a certain desperation eating away at the back of his skull.
The creature casually jogs up the worn steps to her floor, the only sound being the heels of his maroon velvet boots clicking against the cement ground. He whistles softly to the vague tune of a new pop song that had been playing on the radio— Wet Ass something?— as he tucks his phone into his pocket and brushes a few traces of lint off his freshly-ironed button-up.
His outfit for tonight is nothing too spectacular, but it isn’t too lazy, either. It’s a long-sleeve black silk shirt with glass buttons and a pair of large swallows embroidered along either sides of his chest, the threads dyed royal and pastel blue, cherry red, and creamy yellow. The top is cuffed up his elbows and unbuttoned down to his butterfly tattoo, showing off his naturally tanned skin and matching swallow inkings, the cross on his delicate chain centered between his pecs and twinkling under the flickering lights. He’d coupled the loose blouse with some black skinny jeans, a dark leather belt, a small golden hoop earring, and his trusty collection of rings and necklaces. In his opinion, it’s a proper look for a planned-out booty call. Formal, but easy to rip off. Especially in a blind hurry.
Harry figures that he’ll check to see if Y/N is home, just to cover the bases. If she isn’t, he’ll tred back down the stairs and wait for her in his car. If she is, then that’s all the better; there’s no damage in starting a bit earlier than scheduled. It makes for a better recoup period between rounds.
The immortal turns the corner into the familiar hallway where Y/N’s flat is located, one of his hands already forming into a loose fist with the intention of knocking on her door. He makes it about five paces before he’s slapped with an image that causes him to stop cold in his tracks, his whistling coming to an abrupt halt.
Harry blinks repeatedly and lowers the frame of his pink Gucci sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, wanting to make sure the scene before him isn’t a figment of his imagination. Much to his displeasure, it isn’t.
About three meters ahead, situated right in front of her door with her back facing towards him, is Y/N. That isn’t the odd aspect of the picture, though. What’s odd is that her usual grimy work attire is missing, which he had expected to see given that he knows she always goes to the cafe on Fridays. Instead, she is clad in the pastel blue floral sundress she had worn for him all those weeks back, when they had slept together for the second time. And instead of wearing her scuffed up Vans, she is wearing a pair of pretty tan sandals. And instead of having her hair up in a frizzy ponytail, it’s down and fanned around her shoulders in a glossy sheen of tousled curls. And she’s wearing perfume— the same one she had worn the night they met. He can smell it from here and it makes his brows furrow in confusion. She never wears perfume to work; she says it’s forbidden since it can make customers nauseous.
But aside from all of those unorthodox details, there is one specific factor above all that throws Harry for the biggest loop he’s encountered in the last five weeks of knowing her.
Y/N isn’t alone. She’s accompanied by another man.
Harry gives the stranger a calculating once-over, taking in every aspect of the boy’s appearance. He has to keep himself from sputtering into laughter. This has to be some type of fucking joke.
The bloke is fit, he’ll give him that, at least. He’s handsome and somewhat muscular, but in a manner that is painfully cliche and utterly boring. He has sandy blonde hair that falls across his forehead in a shaggy sideways bang, eyes the color of a Malibu beach, and generally soft features with the exception of decent cheekbones. He’s wearing a dull orange polo, khaki pants, Levi sneakers, and an annoyingly giant watch on his wrist that gives the impression he’s trying to show off. Harry nearly vomits in his mouth.
Who the fuck would wear a polo willingly? And how brain dead does he have to be to think khakis are still in style? His fashion sense is obviously stunted. It appears his brain is stuck in his middle school phase, when the Justin Bieber haircut and douchey brands were all the rave amongst snotty pre-teens. Also, his watch is an embarrassment. Harry doesn’t know what the guy is attempting— and failing— to show off, considering the accessory is chunky and ugly and not even Versace or Rolex. It’s a disgrace.
As if the forced posh demeanor isn’t enough, the imbecile actually has the guts to have a fake tan. The vampire isn’t surprised, unfortunately, given that eighty percent of all Los Angeles residents think it’s acceptable to dip-dye themselves into a carrot. He faintly wonders if the man’s balls are colored, as well, or if his ass and sack are as pale as his personality probably is. That would be quite the comedic sight either way. Creamsicles for the win, he supposes.
Harry may not be alarmed by the blonde boy’s get-up, but he is disgusted. Thoroughly disgusted. Horrifically disgusted. What is Y/N doing with this moron?
According to what he’s gathered from her personality and the pillow talks they often share, she hates the California stereotype almost as much as he does, if not more. She hates the fake tans and bleached hair and lack of conscience. She hates the outdated teenage brands, cringey jewelry, and fraternity member aesthetic. She especially hates the fact that some of these people don’t understand the basic principles of boundaries. And the thing is, this dude-bro of a man definitely ticks all of those boxes— especially with how close he’s standing next to her, looming above her frame with one arm extended against the surface of her door, trying to look nonchalant and cool as he drawls on about whatever topic they’re discussing.
He’s practically the poster child for everything the girl despises, from the straightened hair to the alter boy church pants to the stupid forest tattoo on his forearm. So what in the flying fuck is she doing entertaining him? What is she doing standing outside her apartment with this trashy, bacon strip-looking, youth leader knock-off, 2012 Bieber impersonator of a human?
It has to be a joke. It just has to. There’s no other valid explanation, except maybe a plea of insanity.
Harry doesn’t realize he’s scowling until the stranger makes eye contact with him. The boy’s face breaks into an expression of unsettled discomfort at the way the vampire is peering at him over his sunglasses, allowing his end of the conversation to falter to dust. Y/N’s brows cinch at the occurrence, her attention peeling away to follow where her date’s had wandered.
The second her gaze locks with Harry’s intense own, she feels her heart drop to her stomach. Fuck.
Let it be known Y/N didn’t want this. She didn’t want to go on a date with Jacob. In fact, she didn’t know who Jacob was until halfway through this week and she honestly wishes it had stayed that way. She wishes she hadn’t picked up Melissa’s shift with Isabel, she wishes she hadn’t offered to wait that extra table in the back out of the kindness in her heart, and she wishes she hadn’t caught the attention of the customer inhabiting it.
As it turns out, the young man was Isabel’s cousin. He had come to pick her up since the girl’s car had been stuck at the shop for the last few days, and he had arrived a bit earlier than intended, deciding to sit at the back table to wait out the final ten minutes of his relative’s shift. Y/N had simply assumed that he was a regular customer, so she had gone to give him the usual trained introduction in order to follow the golden rule of customer service: Don’t keep a guest waiting.
Jacob had explained the situation to Y/N, to which she responded with a light laugh and an instinctive apology. She had told him she’d go fetch Isabel for him and bid the boy goodbye. In her rational opinion, she had thought that would be it— a simple crossing of two paths that would likely never cross again— but evidently, the visitor had a very different idea.
The human’s shift had continued as planned and everything had been going great until Isabel ducked into the kitchen right before leaving, dancing her way across the room and poking her coworker playfully in the tummy. Apparently, from what Isabel had giddily told her, Jacob had taken an interest in Y/N. It was a bit ridiculous, if you asked her, considering they’d only talked for a total of about thirty seconds before parting routes. But Y/N hadn’t voiced that opinion; she didn’t want to come off as rude.
Jacob had asked his cousin to set them up on a date and that is why Isabel had gone into the back before leaving. Y/N’s immediate impulse had been to decline. She wasn’t interested in seeing anyone at the moment. Other than Harry, of course. He handled all her needs just fine and they got on so well, she’d be crazy to replace him with some random guy she barely knew. She had gone to express this to Isabel in a gentler manner with an apologetic tone, but the words had ended up lodging in her throat. The girl had stared at Y/N with so much excitement, she’d immediately felt a wave of guilt erupt into her chest.
She found it difficult to refuse, given that turning down the offer might come off as bitchy and insensitive. Here Isabel was, trying to innocently play match-maker on behalf of someone she cared about, buzzing with glee and smiling at her so big, her cheeks probably hurt. The last thing Y/N wanted was to upset her by basically telling her that Jacob wasn’t up to par with her standards. Rejecting him could be something her acquaintance took personally and Y/N didn’t want to have to deal with drama in the workplace, especially not with someone whose shifts often mirror her own.
Y/N had reluctantly agreed to the invitation, her only request being that she had to be home by seven thirty. That would give her enough time to prepare for Harry’s visit.
Her compliance had landed her where she is now, standing in front of her apartment door with a boy she has no interest in.
It had been a terrible date, though Jacob took no notice of that. He spent the entire dinner talking about himself, going on and on about his college years, and about how he works at a popular surf shop and could probably get her discounted lessons, and about how he doesn’t think he could survive without his Jeep. How he plays guitar and wants to be a famous actor, how he doesn’t understand why people dislike fake tanning, and how his dad owns a country club in South Carolina. How he loves sports, how he thinks museums are dumb, and how he likes girls who are willing to cook for him after they hookup. How he loves going clubbing and that he misses his ex.
Y/N had nearly groaned out loud at the last two.
It was cruel and unusual torture, in all honestly, and Y/N is just glad it’s over. She’d fulfilled her role— she’d even been nice enough to dress up, to at least finge interest— and could now go free, never having to hear another word about surfboard wax or college football ever again. If only he’d fucking leave.
Jacob had insisted on walking her to the door, which would be sweet if she hadn’t developed a burning hatred for him in the last hour. It came off as annoying and pushy instead, but she allowed it on the grounds of maintaining a polite front.
She shouldn’t have allowed it. As soon as they’d gotten to her door, he’d started talking all over again and Y/N had no choice but to stand there and listen. She couldn’t go anywhere, given that this is her place and she’s expecting someone. She figured she’d give him until seven fifty and then make up an excuse about having to go to the bathroom in order to get him to piss off. That plan had crumbled when Harry had shown up twenty minutes early.
The look of inflamed shock that poses Harry’s handsome features makes her stomach curdle.
She hadn’t meant for him to see this. She’d only gone on the date to spare herself some petty trouble with a coworker. Nothing was bound to come of it, other than a free meal and a guilt-free conscience. It didn’t mean anything and she had no intention of letting it get in between what she and Harry have going. But from an outside perspective, she knows it looks much different.
The agreement they have isn’t exclusive by any means, but over the last five weeks, the pair have grown pretty comfortable with one another and had given connotations that they weren’t kindling other possible relationships. There’s a type of silent agreement between them that if they were to seek out other people, they would share that information with each other on the grounds of courtesy, friendship, and respect. But Y/N hadn’t said a word to spare him the baseless stress and now he’d run into her smack in the middle of what appears to be a very compromising situation; things aren’t looking good at all. It looks like she’s losing interest in Harry and couldn’t be bothered to tell him. It looks like she’s out for a replacement. It looks like she doesn’t care about their connection at all.
This is bad. This is really bad.
Y/N’s voice comes out as a shrill shriek of surprise, her body turning abruptly to fully face his rigid own. “Harry! Uh— hi!”
Harry blinks at her emptily for a moment and she can practically see the gears turning in his head. She can’t read his mind or his expression, but she reckons he’s probably trying to decide if he should follow through on their rendezvous or if he should just leave and never talk to her again. The idea of him choosing the latter makes her mouth go sour.
The vampire’s emerald irises flit back and forth between his friend and the unknown man behind her, trying to interpret the tone and texture of the circumstance. She’s obviously on a date, if her appearance is any indication, and it’s obviously coming to a close right now, exactly when he’s scheduled to arrive.
That’s the determining factor that helps him decide his next move.
Y/N had invited Harry over last Sunday, meaning that she had made their commitment first. This date had to have come into play later in the week, and she had purposefully planned it around their agreed hour in order to give him her undivided attention when the time came. If she had gone out with this guy and then rushed back home to get to him, that must mean she doesn’t plan on indulging another meeting with the stranger. She hadn’t cancelled his visit, either, so that also suggests she isn’t truly interested in this bloke. That makes sense...right?
But that still begs the question: Why had she gone out with him in the first place?
He knows he isn’t owed an explanation, but he also knows that Y/N isn’t the type of person who would just blindside him like this. She isn’t soulless— she’s sweet and caring and generous, so she would never drop him without any warning or consideration for his feelings. She’d never abandon him without telling him why. She’d never do anything that might run a chance of hurting him.
The immortal is more than aware he doesn’t have the right to be upset about it, either. Their arrangement is loose and open on both ends and he likes it that way. He likes that their relationship isn’t weighed down by commitment and monogamy; it gives him a sense of freedom and independence he’s known to thrive off of. It lets him be himself without playing her emotions, and without causing a ruckus in the plans she has for her new life. And he gets the same in return— he gets to have his needs attended without sacrificing his core beliefs. Their friends with benefits trope rides along the wings of an official bond, only giving them what they want and nothing they don’t, which is how it was meant to be. How it should be.
So why does seeing her with someone else make him feel sick to his stomach?
Harry shakes off the ball of contempt writhing in his chest, clearing the tightness from his throat and molding his expression into a facade of calm indifference. Jealousy is for idiots.
The vampire fully wraps his perched fingers around the rim of his sunglasses, removing them from the arch of his nose and tucking the shades along the collar of his shirt. He forces his feet to do their job, his lanky legs lurching forward and falling into a casual stride as he walks towards the two humans awaiting a response.
Harry comes to a stop beside the mortals, clasping his bejeweled hands behind his back and plastering a dazzling grin across his cheeks. He regards his friend with a slight bow of his head, voice airy and carefree as ever. “Hey, Y/N.”
She almost faints in relief. Thank God he’s not mad.
Y/N returns his smile, shoulders visibly relaxing. “It’s nice to see you.”
“S’nice to see you, too. Always such a…” He pauses, licking at the corner of his lips suggestively, giving her a knowing once-over that only she can interpret, “pleasure.”
The girl ignores the heat that immediately floods her cheeks. Of course he’s doing this in front of Jacob. Of course he’s peacocking. “Likewise.”
Harry trains his attention onto the young man before him, pursing his lips into a polite smile. As polite as he can muster, anyways. “And who’s this?”
Y/N blinks herself back into the present, quickly glancing away from Harry’s sharp jaw, though it doesn’t go unnoticed. He feels his ego swell a smidge.
“This is Jacob.” The human comments easily, signaling to him with an upturned palm. “He’s Isabel’s cousin. You remember Isabel, right? You met her at the club.”
“I don’t think I do, actually.” Harry murmurs, glimpsing up towards the ceiling to suggest he’s wracking his thoughts. He has a very vague recollection of the two girls he’d momentarily encountered the day he’d first met Y/N, but it’s hazy and unimportant.
He looks back down at her with sparkling irises, rosy lips twitching with amusement at his next words, knowing they’re going to have a favorable impact. “I guess I was just too distracted by you to pay much attention to anyone else.”
He can hear more blood rush into her face and the ecstasy it brings him is immeasurable. He cranes his sight back onto Jacob, who has the slightest crease in his brows at Harry’s compliment. Good. That’s exactly what he wanted.
The monster unclamps his hands and juts one out stiffly towards the mortal. “M’Harry. Good to meet you, mate.”
Jacob returns the gesture, grasping Harry’s hand firmly in a way the vampire knows is to try and establish dominance. It tickles him when humans try to be tough, especially because Harry could tear his arm right out of its socket as easily as he could lift a sheet of paper. The creature tightens his grip to match the man’s, purposefully putting a tad more strength in to make a silent point. He has to withhold the urge to crunch the boy’s fingers to dust.
They both release from the exchange and a wave of dark satisfaction trickles into Harry’s bones when he sees Jacob curl and stretch his digits in mild pain.
Y/N watches the whole scene with a breath trapped in her lungs. This feels surreal.
The blonde clears his throat softly, mouth jilting into an empty smile and it’s obvious he’s only doing it just to keep things civil. “Good to meet you, too. I take it you’re British?”
“Pure-bred.” Harry remarks proudly, shrugging his shoulders offhandedly as if it’s no big deal. His gaze slinks towards Y/N for a second, tongue pushing along the inside of his cheek smugly. “It works wonders with the ladies.”
A flicker of spite stains the blue in Jacob’s eyes and the vampire feels like his soul is ascending. This is fun.
“I can only imagine.” His opponent responds, voice somewhat strained as he directs his next question to the two friends. “So how do you know each other?”
Harry opens his mouth to make an arrogant comment along the lines of, “A club. A few drinks. Some amazing sex. Y’know, the usual.” but Y/N knows him well enough that she anticipates it, speaking over him loudly before he can even get a syllable out.
“We met at a club and hit it off really well. Been friends ever since.”
The immortal has to keep himself from adding something snarky to the end of her summary. He only does it because he can see a sharp warning flash across Y/N’s eyes. It’s wordless, but stern nonetheless: Don’t.
Harry swallows down his dig and feels it burn a hole in his stomach. Why is she protecting his feelings?
In all honesty, Y/N is only doing it out of kindness and nothing else. As annoying as Jacob may be, he doesn’t deserve to be embarrassed simply because Harry wants to feed his pride. It may be funny, but it’s pretty immature.
“Right.” Harry sighs happily, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Friends. Good friends. Close friends. Intimate friends.”
Y/N presses her lips into a straight line to keep herself in check. He’s trying to work her over and, unfortunately, he’s succeeding.
“That’s nice.” Jacob nods casually, the innuendo luckily going right over his head.
“Yeah, it is.” Harry states, eyes glinting mischievously as he quickly studies the man once again. He can’t help himself, he truly can’t. Not when this terribly-styled buffoon makes it so fucking easy. “I like your tan, by the way.”
The human looks down at his arms for significance, eyes brightening. “Thank you! I got it done at that new place in—”
“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. Looks almost real.”
Jacob blinks blankly at the backhanded compliment. “Oh—?”
“I mean, it’s got a few streaks here and there and your left arm looks a little more orange, but I think—”
“Anyways!” Y/N swiftly cuts in, interrupting her friend’s judgmental spiel and directing her attention towards her date. “Harry and I were actually planning on going to see a movie, which is why I had to be home by seven-thirty— we do it every Friday. And the movie starts at eight and traffic’s a bitch, so that’s why I was in such a hurry to get home.”
Jacob nods slowly, giving her a sweet, understanding smile that makes Harry’s supernatural blood boil. “I see. Well, I—”
The vampire interrupts him once again, condescension flaring in his chest and dancing across the specks of amber surrounding his pupils. “Yeah, Y/N and I go to the theater every Friday. Recently, we’ve been going to the movies every single day of the weekend. And most times, we see several movies a night.”
Y/N’s jaw clenches at Harry’s barely-veiled insinuation. She tries to talk over him, but he beats her to the punch.
“Y’know what I’m talking about, right, Y/N?” He nudges her side playfully with his elbow, ignoring the way her eyes tell him to cut it out. “Remember that time we saw three movies in one night? Or the one that had the jacuzzi in it?”
The girl glimpses over at Jacob, who looks utterly confused and uncomfortable. “Harry—”
“Or what about that crime film, yeah? The one with the handcuffs.” He pinches at her love handle teasingly, reveling in how her entire torso tenses under his touch. “The one where they grabbed the criminal and slammed them up against the mirror? You have to remember that one. It’s hard to forget.”
“Okay, I think that’s enough talk about—”
“Oh, c’mon, dove.” Harry slings an arm around her shoulders nonchalantly, squeezing her into his body and feeling Jacob’s glare pierce the side of his face. He stares intently into Y/N’s irises, dimples winking awake at the needy desperation gradually inking its way into their reflection. His tone comes out soft but heavy with authoritative suggestion— the kind he always uses in bed. “Tell me you remember.”
Y/N gulps quietly, mumbling her words begrudgingly. “Yeah, I...I remember.”
A coy hum runs along the back of the vampire’s throat as he licks across his top teeth slyly. “I think that was your favorite one, wasn’t it? You seemed to have really enjoyed it. Like, properly enjoyed it. Loved every single second, if I recall correctly.”
The human forces herself to cast her intent elsewhere, ears simmering and breathing stuttering ever so slightly. Her sight lands back onto a very frazzled Jacob, who is looking at the pair as if they’d sprouted horns, shifting unsurely across his feet. The expression of innocent befuddlement on his face makes guilt twist into her heart.
The mortal roughly shrugs off Harry’s arm, stepping forward and placing a palm on Jacob’s wrist, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you so much for the date. It was...nice.”
Harry’s fists clench at his sides, though the action goes unnoticed.
The human boy nods giddily at Y/N, glancing down to where she’s touching him so tenderly. “‘Course! I had a great time, too.”
“Make sure to tell Isabel that. Maybe it’ll get her to do some sweeping on my behalf.” The girl jokes, giggling softly right along with the stranger.
Harry can feel his nails threatening to break into his skin.
“We really have to get going, though, so I guess I’ll see you around?” Y/N prods, gifting her date one last beautiful smile to ease the awkwardness that had settled into the atmosphere, courtesy of Harry’s antics.
“Sure!” Jacob bobs his head in agreement, pulling out his phone and swaying it symbolically. “You have my number, just text me whenever.”
“Sounds good.”
Once the young man’s footsteps have faded down the complex’s staircase, Y/N swivels around on her heel to face Harry, arms falling across her chest in an irritated fashion. Her face pinches with annoyance as he leans casually against her door, his own arms folding over his strong chest with his fingers tapping along the inside of his elbows, attitude depicting not a single care in the world.
He crosses his ankles easily, brows quirking at the way she’s blatantly glaring at him. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that people whose names start with a letter ‘J’ are bound to ruin your life?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry!” Y/N snaps, rolling her eyes towards the ceiling as her glossed lips dip into an aggravated grimace. “Are you serious right now?”
He tilts his head curiously, stifling a simper. “What’s wrong, love?”
“What’s wrong?” She retorts with a humorless laugh, astonished at his ability to act so purposefully dense. “You’re a fucking dick, that’s what’s wrong.”
The vampire sputters into a round of boyish cackling, his entire body shaking against the surface below him as his eyes crinkle shut in mirth. Y/N would be further infuriated if it wasn’t so damn cute.
Harry’s laughter slowly dies down and once he has himself composed, his shoulders rise and fall once dismissively. “I was just fucking around. I didn’t think much of it.”
“You didn’t think—?” Y/N chokes out in indignation, stomping over to him and poking him straight in the chest, right over his butterfly tattoo. Her perfume makes his mind swim in the best way imaginable. “You didn’t think for a second, in that big head of yours, that talking about our sex life in front of my date was overstepping?”
Hearing Y/N officially refer to Jacob as her date makes Harry’s mood drop somberly. He tries to push it down and keep up a comical edge, but it’s harder than he’d care to admit. His accent comes out small and almost fragile, much to her surprise. “Well, I didn’t know you were on a date. Maybe if you had told me, I wouldn’t have come.”
His words sting for some unknown reason.
The mortal draws closer to him until he’s hovering above her, arms dropping down to her sides to fiddle with the hem of her dress as she tilts her chin upwards to get a better look at his stoney face. All anger melts right out of her voice, replaced by her usual delicate cadence. “Well, I...I didn’t think you’d care, really.”
“I don’t.” He replies a little too quickly, a small pang of regret pricking his chest when her face immediately falls. “I mean...I mean it as in, like...I’m not keeping tabs on you or anything. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to limit you.”
Y/N looks back up at him from under her lashes, tone unreadable. “I didn’t think you were. Limiting me, that is. You don’t...limit me.”
Harry nods his head sharply in relieved confirmation, coughing a bit. His throat feels drier than usual and he knows it’s not for a blood-driven reason. “Okay, good. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”
“I do.”
“Alright.”
A charged silence befalls the ambiance between them and the vampire comes to the conclusion that getting his neck snapped was less painful than having this conversation. At least that was quick, whereas this is grueling and horribly uncomfortable, ridden with anxiety and too many elongated pauses. They are walking on extremely thin eggshells around one another, which is something they’ve never had to do before. They have always been on the same wavelength about their relationship and not once has such a nerve-inducing instance come to pass. Now a wrench has been thrown into their metaphorical mechanism and the nuts and bolts are dismantling by the handfuls, leaving them barren and closed-off more than ever. He can feel this situation straining their friendship and he hates it more than he hates those stupid tapestries she fancies.
“If you knew you were gonna be busy,” Harry starts carefully, gluing his attention to a random stain on the cement ground as he scuffs the heel of his boot against her dirty welcome mat, “why didn’t you just text me and cancel?”
Y/N takes a shaky inhale, focusing on tracing the faded cursive letters on her rug. “I...I still wanted you to come.”
Harry’s foot halts its motions, gaze jumping to her for a thoughtful second, brows knotting with mild confusion at her confession. If she still wants him in her bed, why was she indulging someone else? “You wanted me to come?...Why?”
“Because Fridays are our days.”
The corners of his mouth twitch. Our days. Their days. Theirs.
The brunette clears his throat to try and saw away at the tension, shifting against the door as the subject delves into heavier territory. He’s never been one to stutter— he’s much too confident in himself to ever have that issue— but it seems to have become a new development whenever Y/N is around. “If...If you want— uhm...If you want to see other people, you obviously don’t need my permission or anything. But I’d like a little heads-up, just so I know where we stand.”
Y/N releases a curt sigh of exasperation and somehow, Harry can tell it’s not aimed towards him. It’s aimed towards herself.
She fidgets with the tips of her fingers, talking to the floor but directing her message towards her friend. “It’s not what you think, H.”
Harry pins his intent back onto her face, intrigue fully peaked. “What do you mean?”
Y/N takes another trembling breath, releasing it through her nose as a tired exhale. She can feel him looming over her, waiting for an appropriate response with his lips set into a detached line, his ever-present aroma of vanilla and tobacco muddling her thoughts. “I...I mean the date. It wasn’t truly a real date, per se.”
The vampire’s eyes bore into her relentlessly as he clings onto every syllable she speaks. He’s clutching to a form of hope that he deems absolutely humiliating. “How so?”
Y/N picks at the chipping lavender polish on her nails and he finds it adorable how the color of the lacquer matches one of the main notes in her scent.
She speaks up softly and honestly, and he thinks he detects a shred of guilt to her explanation. “Isabel was the one who set it up. Her cousin came into the cafe and when he saw me, he asked her to get me to go on a date with him. I have no actual interest in Jacob, but I said yes just to be nice. I didn’t wanna upset Isabel by making her think her cousin wasn’t good enough for me or something. That’s the only reason I went.”
Harry slowly twists his lionhead daylight ring around his middle finger, simultaneously thumbing over the opal on his pinky. The stone is cold to the touch, but not nearly as cold as his skin.
He reiterates her story slowly, wanting to make sure he interpreted correctly. “So...you only went on the date because you felt bad? You don't actually like him?”
Y/N’s hands plop down against her thighs as she tilts her head back up to look at him, her tone and eyes completely deadpan. “Well, when you say it like that, it makes me sound kind of mean.”
Harry snorts softly, mouth buckling into his signature crooked smirk. “It’s pretty cruel, to be honest— giving that poor bloke hope like that. Very malicious of you.”
Y/N kicks at his ankle jokingly, her lips toying with a grin. “Shut up.”
“You should be careful. Something tells me his ego bruises easily.”
“Oh, is that so? What makes you say that?”
The vampire sucks at his teeth, tapping his chin in faux thought as he shrugs his brows tauntingly. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably the overly-tight shirt and fraternity ring. Seems to me like he’s trying to make up for something he lacks. Probably in the intimacy department.”
Y/N chews along her cheek to keep from bursting into giggles. “You are cruel.”
“I prefer the term ‘brutally honest.’ Sounds classier.”
“Right. Because you’re all about class.”
“Heyyyy!” Harry whines in exaggerated insult, face contorting with dramatic offense. “I’m a classy guy! I have the English accent and fancy chandeliers to prove it!”
“Right. Super classy.”
“I’m a proper gentleman.” The monster huffs with begrudging finality, irises glitzing deviously. “That is, until you beg me to behave otherwise.”
“Fuck off.”
He looks down at her over the crests of his sharp cheekbones as she gazes up at him with a humorously flat expression, feeling all the pent-up stress from the previous events dissolve away into nothing. Harry reaches forward, taking a single curled strand of her hair and moving it behind her shoulder to get a better look at her face. The gesture makes Y/N’s heartbeat hiccup. Especially when that same forefinger ends up poised below her chin, his thumb distractedly caressing across her jaw.
The creature’s next sentence comes out low and almost vulnerable. “So it meant nothing, then? Are you sure? Because I don’t want to get in the way of your dating life if you—”
“It meant nothing.” Y/N confirms, bobbing her head once insistently. She cradles her cheek into his icy palm, keeping their eyes locked as she gives it a gentle kiss, her insides fluttering when Harry’s breathing hitches. “I’m not gonna be seeing him again anytime soon. Or ever, probably. And that’s why I didn’t mention it to you— because I knew it wouldn’t change anything between us. You’re the only person I’m interested in right now.”
“Truly?”
“Truly.”
The young man swallows thickly, leaning down to smudge his nose across the girl’s and the action erupts a certain flood of warmth so powerful, it could very well kickstart the dead organ below his ribs. His voice is tumbling down his numb tongue before he can think to stop it. “I’ve been thinking about you all week.”
Y/N’s fingers stretch upwards to wrap around his wrist securely, almost as if to tether him and eliminate the chance of his touch slipping away. Her whisper is trembly and raw. “You have?”
Harry knows he’s allowing this to wade into dangerously grey waters, but he can’t find it in himself to care, at the moment. “Yeah. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Couldn’t stop thinking about how good you felt last time.”
The mortal teeters onto the tips of her toes, flirting her mouth over her friend’s, a prickling sensation stemming from where their cupid’s bows brush. She glimpses at him amidst her lashes, glassy eyes reflecting his need right back at him. “Tell me more. Please?”
The breath of Harry’s words is hot against her mouth, his eyes lulling closed as he recalls all of the memories from the last few days. “I just couldn’t shake it. You were just so tight and warm and the way you were pushing back against my thrusts...the way you were shaking and whimpering...the way you flipped around and slammed your mouth to mine because you wanted me to moan onto your tongue….It was so fucking filthy, I just— I couldn’t—”
His control begins to shatter and the immortal can feel desperation leak through the cracks webbing across his composure. Y/N isn’t helping any, considering she’s started suckling lightly at his bottom lip, her free hand coming up to toy with the curls at the nape of his neck.
“Keep going.”
Harry gulps heavily before continuing. “I touched myself while fantasying about you. Lost count of how many times, honestly. But I came so hard every single one. It was pretty easy to lose myself like that, just sitting there thinking about everything we do. Thinking about how pretty you look with my cock in your mouth, taking it down your throat like such a good fucking girl. How nice your arse feels in my hands, especially when you ask me to spank it. How snug you are when you sink over me, stretching around it like it’s made just for you. How the little noises you make sound so fucking perfect— like a song, really. And...and how good you taste between your thighs. S’like honey. Just so fucking sweet.”
There’s a pause as Harry’s words sink into the air, his dirty confessions pulling passion taut into existence between the two lovers. They’re all over each other in less than a heartbeat.
Y/N begins to fumble with the small purse she has strung across her body, frantically fishing for her keys as Harry delights himself with sponging his lips across the slope of her jaw, grinning into her skin at the little curses escaping her throat. He absolutely adores how whipped she gets for him.
The human manages to retrieve her key, jamming it into the lock blindly as her eyes blur with tears of sheer need, stemming from the tiny shots of bliss Harry is instilling through the sloppy pecks he’s trailing down her jugular. She hastily turns the knob, bumping her full weight into the door and nearly fainting in relief when it swings open. She turns sharply to face him, roping her arms around his strong shoulders and pulling him into her, shuddering at how incredible it feels to have his strong torso flushed to hers so intimately. Harry allows himself to be yanked forward into her apartment, giggling softly when she crashes their mouths together messily, harshly tugging him past the threshold.
The vampire’s lean arms wrap around her waist as the young woman maneuvers their connected bodies into the narrow hallway of her flat, one of her hands waving around wildly until it succeeds in shoving the door shut. Y/N slams Harry up against the closest wall, feverishly fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt and nearly ripping them out of their designated holes. Her hands quiver as she races down the seams, her eyes tinging darker when Harry leans his head back against the panel and smirks down at her smugly.
He gnaws on his bottom lip, his half-lidded gaze mocking her hysteria as his voice comes out deep and melodic as always, slathered with self-assured arrogance. “You’re so cute when you’re this eager to fuck me.”
Y/N pants against his twitching lips, tearing his top down his broad figure and shamelessly groping at his swollen biceps. “Just shut up and kiss me.”
Harry abides, lulling his tongue along her upper lip and thrumming deeply when her digits trickle down his abdomen. He coos into her mouth as she begins fiddling with his belt buckle. “What, no interior design emergency this time? You’re losing your touch, darling.”
The girl pulls the leather strap off his pants in a frenzy, scoffing at his stupid quip and breaking their kiss to speckle her mouth down his bare chest, feeling it stutter below her influence. “I got some new chairs for my dining table. Wanna take a look?”
The boy’s fingers card into her roots as she descends down his stomach with wet pecks, his eyes rolling closed with a strained grunt. She bites along his fern inkings and his hips buck forward in response, his grip on her hair tightening when she palms over the outline of his clothed cock. “You know I’m always a sucker for some good dining chairs.”
As it turns out, Y/N had actually gotten some new chairs, much to Harry’s surprise.
They’re nice, in his opinion. They seem sturdy enough, with metal backrests and legs that are covered in tarnished gold paint that gives a pleasing rustic look. But in the end, Harry doesn’t really much care for the details of the furniture. All he cares about is if they’ll manage to withstand Y/N’s weight as he shoves her onto her knees atop the chair and bends her over the back. Or if they’ll stay put as he pounds into her from behind with a fist in her hair and his letter rings marking across her backside. That’s all that truly matters.
Despite having done this countless of times before, this particular instance feels different. Both of them can tell, but Y/N feels it more prevalently. Specifically, in the bottom of her stomach and in the pain sweltering across her ass.
Harry’s just…rougher. He’s still himself, so he makes sure she’s okay with everything he does before doing it, but when he gets the green light, he doesn’t let it go to waste. His grip on her roots is harsh, with his nails digging into her scalp as he jerks her head back to bring her in for a kiss, her spine arching into a semi-circle. The position is difficult given the amount of flexibility required, but Y/N powers through. She quite likes it, actually— it gives him a deeper range of depth, somehow. She can feel him touching the trench of her tummy and she refuses to do anything that might make that stop.
The kiss is upside down, but the vampire doesn’t let that deter him. It’s still dirty and heedless, with lots of biting and overzealous tongues, broken whines and fractured pleas. Y/N freely moans into his mouth, gasping and mewling to his every thrust with a certain type of helplessness that flogs the flames blistering Harry’s dormant veins. He loves that he makes her feel helpless, especially because she makes him feel the exact same way.
His stride is fast and deep and unapologetic— vengeful, almost, and they both know why. Even though Y/N had told the creature that the date had been nothing but a selfless chore, he can’t seem to let it go as easily as she had. He finds himself wanting to prove to her that he’s better than that insipid stranger. That he can give her everything she wants without a single issue. That he can deliver everything she needs with expert skill and relentless force, just as she prefers. That he can make her entire body tremble in overstimulation and make every fiber of her being tingle with sheer pleasure, just by gifting her a few adamant snaps of his hips and by muttering a couple filthy promises onto her unfeeling tongue.
“Bet he wouldn’t be able to make you feel like this, huh, pet?” Harry growls against her swollen lips, plunging his thick length into her and nudging at that sweet spot that makes her toes curl. “Bet he wouldn’t know how to handle you— how to handle that tight cunt and that sharp tongue. Could never take care of you the way I do, isn’t that right, baby?”
Y/N rattles her head in her friend’s grasp, releasing fragmented noises of bliss as he hikes her dress further up her ass and gives it another brutal spank. She can feel his rings imprinting across her sweaty skin and she strives off it more than she should.
Her voice comes out garbled and weak. “N-No one can make me feel as good as you.”
“Damn straight.” Harry grits out, breaking their prolonged kiss to rest his chin against her damp forehead, looking down at her from over his sharp, tinted cheekbones. “Nobody can fuck you into a begging mess like I can. Whose pretty cunt is this, angel? Who’s the only one who gets to call you their little slut?”
The electricity crackling around his pupils is borderlining on unhinged, but she adores it. The fact that she can drive him to the brink like that feeds the affinity she has to win his praise. “It’s yours, Harry. Just yours— it’s always just you. You’re the only one. Nobody e-else— fuck, oh my God!”
“You got all dolled up for him, though. Why’s that’s, hm?” Harry’s hold releases from her hair and fumbles down to her throat, the pads of his fingers leaving bruises across her jugular as he grunts lowly with every hellbent ram. “If you didn’t care, why’d you get all pretty, then? Why’d you wear perfume? And why’d you wear that dress— my dress?”
Y/N’s lashes flutter as he refers to her outfit, which is the same one she’d had on the day they had officially established their loose arrangement. Hearing him call it his— hearing him claim it as his own with so much dominant confidence— makes the pit of her belly froth. It is his. Sure, she’d worn it for the sake of looking presentable, but it was only to satisfy the basic rules of what a date entails. In truth, under the excuse of inherent kindness, she’d worn it because she knew Harry would see it afterwards. Because she knew he liked it. Because she wanted to please him.
The girl communicates that to him now in the form of a feathery mumble, staring up at his angered eyes with a moony, innocent aura. “I wore it f-for you.”
The intense jealousy present in Harry’s clenched jaw and furrowed brows dissipates, replaced by soft awe at her wispy affirmation. He pants as he absorbs the real meaning behind her entire appearance, feeling sparks ignite in his heaving chest. “You...You did it for me?”
Y/N struggles to swallow in his rough grip, nodding a bit as her fingers tighten around the edge of the chair. “I know you like it and, well…I like making you happy.”
Harry’s lips part in astonished wonder, though he’s not so sure why her admission had caught him off guard. She’s told him plenty of times that she likes giving him what he wants, but this just feels slightly more personal than anything else she’s ever uttered during an orgasmic stupor. It’s tipping along one of the lines they had sworn not to cross.
The vampire hadn’t even realized his strokes had tapered to a halt, and apparently neither had she. They’re both too busy looking into each other’s eyes with expressions that neither can decipher. The tense pause only lasts maybe three seconds at most, but it feels like they manage to fit an eternity of uncertain silence within that short time frame.
Harry cuts through the moment by clearing his throat, intent on changing the subject into something much lighter that will allow them to return to their previous activity. However, the words that rasp out of his raw lips are ones he hadn’t consciously consented to. They come from a sincere nature he’d suppressed for so long, he didn’t think it was possible for it to ever resurface again. “I like making you happy, too.”
Y/N blinks up at him with her usual doe-like air, the corners of her lips twitching fondly at his requited compliment. “I guess we just like making each other happy, then, don’t we?”
The monster has never been more thankful for her witty personality. It gives him the opportunity to stuff his emotions back into the box they belong, allowing him to regain his typical composure and return her banter without a hitch. He bursts into a round of wheezy giggles, tapping at the hollow of her throat playfully. “I guess so. We’ll add that to the list of things we do to each other, right under ‘excite.’”
The rest of the session goes as usual, thankfully. Some more degrading names are exchanged, positions are switched, hickies are stained on fleshy thighs and damp shoulders, and Harry’s array of rings paint an art piece across Y/N’s backside that he thinks is worthy of the Louvre. His initials are signed on it and everything.
The pair end up splayed across her trusty old couch, catching their breaths from the heavy exertion they’d just put each other through. Y/N is still in her dress, though it’s rumpled, damp, and the thin straps are hanging off her shoulders limply. Harry is bare, as he always is after sex, per his raunchy preference. However, Y/N had made him cover himself with a blanket in order to keep at least a shred of decency between them. Plus, she’d said she didn’t want his “limp dick brushing against my dress while we cuddle.”
And that’s what they’re doing now— snuggling on her couch with the human pressed up against the vampire’s side, his arm slung around her shoulders casually as she doodles random shapes across the colored skin of his tummy. She has one leg hooked across his covered hips, which he’s more than happy to allow because he thoroughly enjoys rubbing his palm up and down the back of her thigh; it’s soothing and warm. Y/N entertains herself with nuzzling her head against the crook of his neck, sighing contentedly as he props his chin atop her temple and pets at her frizzy hair with gentle strokes. It’s a nice moment, full of slowly steadying breaths and the hum of the air vent at the other end of the room.
Harry is the first to break the tranquil atmosphere.
“I give the chairs a ten out of ten. IKEA really outsold.”
Y/N slaps her hand down against his naked chest, sputtering into a wave of loud laughter that is unbelievably contagious. “I’m happy you like them ‘cause, uh...they were on clearance. Can’t return them.”
“You lucked out then, didn’t you? Kudos to your ability to pick out decent furniture.” Harry twirls a strand of her tangled locks around his index finger, giving it a playful tug as a grin dimples his flushed cheeks. “Except for when it comes to wall decor.”
“It’s not my fault you're a stuck-up asshole.”
“And it’s not my fault you have a knack for cringey drapery depicting ClipArt images.”
“I’m going to strangle you with one of my tapestries, I really am.”
“Be my guest. At least I won’t have to look at them ever again.” The immortal squeezes her thigh jestingly, his smile widening when she squirms and giggles. “I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been fucking and I accidentally glanced at it and almost went soft.”
“But you didn’t.” She reasons, flicking at one of his nipples in revenge and feeling proud when he hisses softly.
“But I could have.”
“But you didn’t.”
“But I could have.” Harry insists stubbornly, reaching up to push a few wet curls out of his tired eyes. “Have you ever had someone go soft inside you? It’s pretty gross. Highly discourage it.”
“Just close your eyes, then.” Y/N states with finality, pinching at his belly button and cackling in satisfaction when he writhes. “You’re real shitty at solving problems, y’know that? You could never be Sherlock.”
Harry goes quiet for a second and his friend almost looks up to check if he’s alright; he’s too petty to ever back out of anything. But sure enough, his voice comes out a second later, flat and unyielding. “Take down the glorified curtains or I’m never eating you out again.”
“I’ll take down my glorified curtains the day you take down that Stevie Nicks poster on your wall.”
“I refuse to take down Stevie!”
“And I refuse to take down Amanda!”
“You named it?!”
The lovers chat and bicker childishly for a while longer, talking about anything and everything that will keep them entertained. Harry explains to Y/N how his friends had gone on a trip this week (though he makes sure to omit the fact that he had willingly bailed in order to spend time with her) and he’d been alone most of the time. She responds to his story with an incredulous yelp, telling him that he should’ve come over if he wanted some company. She says she would have been more than happy to hang out with him, but he knows she’d been so busy the entire week with work, she probably would have fallen asleep within ten minutes of him arriving. It’s the thought that counts, though, so he thanks her for the belated support, either way.
Y/N talks about a weird customer that had come in and ordered a sandwich with nothing but cucumbers and cheddar cheese on French bread, which she had later recreated to taste-test herself out of curiosity. She can confirm it was abhorrent and the way her nose crinkles with disgust makes Harry snort in endearment. She also tells him about how horribly the date with Jacob had gone, simply because she can tell he’s itching to ask. She recounts everything the young man boasted about, from the annoying college stories to his stupid opinion about clubs. She informs him that she’d never had a more terrible experience in her life and that she wishes she could get that hour of her life back.
Harry can’t help the way his face lights up at how utterly repulsed she sounds. He knew it. He fucking knew she would never insert herself into a romantic situation with such a comedic punchline of a human being. Hearing her confirm his suspicions is almost as pleasurable as what she can do with her mouth. Almost.
The vampire finds himself lost in his thoughts, thinking about how much better the whole event would have gone if it had been him instead. How he would have picked her up from her flat by actually getting out of the car and knocking on her door, rather than just sending her a text to come down. How he would have helped her into his car like a proper gentleman, and how he would’ve aided her back out when the time came. How he would enter the restaurant with his palm resting at the dip of her back, guiding the girl towards their seats and pulling out a chair for her. How they’d make conversation as easily as they always do, and how he’d have her laughing between mouthfuls of food, and how he’d expertly flirt her into a fidgety puddle. How he’d reach over the table to get a bit of sauce off the corner of her mouth with a cloth napkin, and how she’d thank him with that shy smile he’d grown to admire. How he’d wave off her suggestion to split the bill, paying it all himself and smirking as she scolds him for it because she likes being hard-headed and independent. How much fun she would actually have, and how she would probably be willing to go out on a second date.
Harry’s comment topples out of his mouth before he can rethink it.
“I bet I could take you out on a better date.”
Y/N’s head snaps upwards to meet his gaze, eyebrows jumping in utter shock. She hadn’t been expecting that from him at all. Ever.
She talks between airy spurts of glee. “That was random.”
Harry doesn’t return the gesture. In fact, his lips don’t even jolt in the slightest. He simply just stares down at her with seriousness decorating his features, long lashes blinking blankly. He doesn’t know what overcame him to make such a bizarre, uncalled for claim, but he can’t take it back now. And he’s not so sure he wants to, honestly. He knows there’s truth to his belief— he could definitely do a better job of wooing her than that Jesse McCartney wannabe. It’s not like it’s hard.
Aside from that, seeing Y/N out with another man had reminded Harry that their little alliance isn’t anything solid— it’s not bulletproof, and he really shouldn’t be taking it for granted. He’d been so cocky and self-assured about himself and what he has to offer, he’d forgotten that there is always the possibility that Y/N might grow tired of him. It may be a microscopic possibility, but it exists, nonetheless. If he wants to keep her interested, he has to up his game a bit, or she might decide that he isn’t worth keeping around. If he wishes to maintain this favorable arrangement where he gets his intimate tendencies tailored and his supernatural necessities sufficed, he needs to give her a more fulfilling reason to stay.
Good sex is a very convincing factor, sure, but there might come a time in her life when she wants more than just a no-strings-attached affair. There may come a time when she’ll mature out of this stage and seek something sturdier and safe and anchored. There may come a time when she wants a real relationship, and if he doesn’t keep her occupied, that could be sooner rather than later. And it could be with someone else. He doesn’t want this convenience taken away from him— doesn’t want to lose the thing they have going, which keeps him out of annoying clubs, out of random people’s beds, and gives him the best blood he’s tasted in the last twenty decades. It’s too comfortable and satisfying to let go. He has to keep her hooked somehow, and if taking her on a date can assure that this flawless dream remains intact, then he’ll gladly do it.
Harry licks his lips slowly, measuring out his next words with immense precision. “I’m being serious. I can definitely do better.”
A million emotions funnel into Y/N’s eyes at once and he can only pick out a select few: confusion, astonishment, fear, denial, and slight unease. There is the chance that the monster may be interpreting all of the human’s feelings incorrectly because, truth be told, he isn’t the best at gauging or handling sentiments. However, there is one he knows he’s not misjudging— it’s the most evident one of all: Excitement.
“Think about it for a second, yeah?” Harry starts, shifting in his seat to get a better look at her, raising his eyebrows decisively. “I’ve already gotten in your pants. That means I have no ulterior motive, right?”
Y/N’s own brows kink a smidge. “I...I guess.”
Her friend continues his speech. “Because of that, it means I won’t rush the date, I won’t expect anything from you, and we already get on pretty well, as it is. It’d be a proper good time— a genuine good time.”
The girl’s eyes flicker around different points of his face, trying to make sure he’s not pulling some type of cruel prank. Her tone comes out hesitant and slow. “That makes sense, I suppose.”
Harry squeezes the back of her thigh reassuringly. “It’s all in mathematics, love; everything adds up. It’s truly an ideal situation, if you ask me. Practically utopian.”
Y/N takes a deep breath, letting it out shakily. This is all so sudden and unexpected, she feels like Harry might burst into laughter any minute and reveal it’s all just a big joke. It’s just not them. It’s out of bound— it scribbles outside the box drawn around their whole dynamic. They were never meant to date, they were just meant to sleep together; they were meant to provide each other with the satisfaction that comes from a real relationship, without all the trials and tribulations. Harry asking her on a date blurs those sacred boundaries in a way she’s not sure she’s ready to face. It could mess everything up. It could not only ruin the fun little arrangement they have going, but it could potentially destroy their entire friendship. Harry is the only person she’s truly connected with since she moved to Los Angeles and risking that bond on an impulsive decision...That’s something she doesn’t think she can afford to do. She can’t survive her new life on her own. This is just too dangerous. Way too dangerous.
But then again...it’s not like she hasn’t thought about it before. She will admit, there have been instances where she’s pictured her and Harry becoming more than just warm bodies to each other. The two days she spent over at his house the weekend prior had solidified those fantasies and made them more frequent. They just click so well, she knows for a fact they’d make a great team. It’d be like dating a best friend, in a way. They fit one another in a manner she didn’t think was possible, and despite the fact they’ve only been acquainted for just over a month and a half, it feels like they’ve been friends for years. She feels like these types of connections are rare to create and she finds herself wishing it could develop into more.
But could it really be worth the potential grievance?
Y/N tunes back into reality, gazing up at Harry with reluctant eyes. She’s surprised to find his are full of confident clarity, as if he’s already sold on the idea and had begun planning their outing. He’s simply awaiting her response at this point, thumbing over her knee gently while tucking her hair behind her ear, lips poised into that lopsided simper that makes her heart skip and her nerves glitch. How could she possibly find it in herself to say no to him?
The mortal clears her throat lightly, gnawing into her cheek as she speaks her next words with airy humor. “So is that your official way of asking me out? ‘Cause if so, that’s not enough. You’re gonna have to do better, love.”
Harry hesitates for a split second, but it’s so fast, his friend doesn’t even take notice. He prays he doesn’t grow to regret this decision.
The boy nods, pursing his mouth into a small smile.
“I’m sorry, I don't think I heard you? Must be the AC.”
Harry rolls his eyes grandly at the stolen joke, which is identical to one he had made two weeks ago when he’d come over for their usual adult pastime and had brought a special toy in tow.
His mood comes out theatrical, accent heavily exaggerated. “Dear fair maiden, would you be so kind as to do me the impeccable honor of allowing me to bask in your presence by attending a luncheon with me, preferably sometime in the near future? Thank you so much for your consideration. Sincerely signed...” The creature takes a pause, proceeding to sing his next words to the tune of a song they are both familiar with, given their interest in the Hamilton play. “Your Obedient Servant, H dot Styles.”
Y/N explodes into a series of giggles, shaking her head as she reaches up to peck at his grinning lips.
“It would be my pleasure.”
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Ateez: Breaking The Bed During Sex (Rated)
Contains NSFW content. Read at your own discretion.
Kim Hongjoong:
Ok, maybe you and Hongjoong were going at it a little too rough one day when you had the dorms to yourselves. Honestly it was quite funny to you both, once the shock died down. However you didn't want him to get in trouble, so you both lied about what happened, claiming ignorance. Hongjoong really wanted to say what happened, it was seriously such an ego booster, but he always held back....
Until one day when the other members were teasing him once again, calling him short and weak.
"I'm not weak." Hongjoong said confidently.
"You're the weakest one out of all of us!" Mingi pointed out.
Hongjoong was so done at this point that he ended up blurting out:
"I'm actually so strong that I broke the bed when I was fucking Y/N into the sheets!"
Everyone had a shocked face, some even covering their ears at such a revelation.
"If you don't believe me, ask her! But can any of you brag about something like that?!" Hongjoong continued.
The rest of the member's faces turned red.
"Wait! So you lied about not knowing what happened?" Seonghwa suddenly realized.
"Bitch! You even told our manager that you suspected it was me and Yunho!" San cried out, offended that he was a victim of the whole incident.
Ok, so maybe Hongjoong was definitely going to get scolded, but he does not regret anything.
Park Seonghwa:
As usual, Seonghwa was completely in his Dom persona, holding your legs open as he slammed his cock deep inside you. Only your pants and heavy breathing could be heard.
"F-fuck Seonghwa!" You cried out as you felt your orgasm coming.
"Cum for me baby, I want you to let it all out." He ordered you.
Order that you never got to fulfill since the front legs of the bed snapped out of place, sending you both falling to the front, your head hitting the wall. Dom Seonghwa was switched instantly to Mom Seonghwa.
"Oh my God! Are you all right?!" He exclaimed as he quickly got off you and examined the damage done.
"I'm fine, really." Although it did hurt, you didn't want him to go overboard with this.
"Are you sure? Do you want an ice pack? Do you want to go to the hospital? I'll put some clothes on and take you there right now."
He quickly got up and started pulling out something to wear for him and you. You honestly were just giggling at the situation right now. You both literally just broke the bed cause you were having sex and suddenly Seonghwa is freaking out.
"I think we have bigger problems than my head. How are you going to explain this to the others?" You asked him.
Seonghwa stopped when he realized you were right.
"Shit!" He cursed when he thought about what would happen when the others found out.
They were never going to let him live it down, that was for sure.
Jeong Yunho:
Yunho definitely got carried away and it backfired most inconveniently and at the worst possible moment.
You were currently on top of him, rolling your hips against his as you tried to chase your orgasm. Yunho could definitely tell you were about to explode anytime soon and that's just what he was waiting for, waiting for you to reach your high because he wanted to try something.
With a loud moan, you came all over him, your movements stopping as you were too sensitive to the touch. Yunho knew this, but that didn't stop him from suddenly gripping your hips in place and suddenly thrusting up into you at an animalistic speed.
"Y-Yunho- please! Don't! I-I can't!" You whimpered out from the overstimulation.
"Yes you can, and you will. I know you can take it." He groaned as his hand snaked up your neck.
You never got to find out if you could since suddenly the bed collapsed underneath you both, halting both of your actions.
"Did the bed just...?" Yunho couldn't even finish his sentence.
You nodded. "Yeah.....it really did."
You both sat there for a good minute or two, wondering what to do. That's when you playfully smacked his shoulder.
"This is why you shouldn't try things without telling me first!"
Kang Yeosang:
Yeosang tried to act as normal as possible, knowing it was only a matter of time before-
"Ahhhhhh! My bed is broken!!" Wooyoung screeched out, his arms flailing around the air as he ran to where the other members were.
"Say what?" Seonghwa asked.
"What did you do?" Hongjoong could already feel a headache coming.
"I didn't do anything! Seriously!" Wooyoung exclaimed.
"Then why is your bed broken? What happened?" Hongjoong asked.
"I don't know! That's what I want to know! All I did was come back today from my trip with my family, I sit my butt on my bed and suddenly the headboard falls off!" Wooyoung explained.
Yeosang tried to avoid eye contact with Wooyoung, knowing full well that the reason why the headboard was busted was because he fucked you on his best friend's bed since it was illogical for you two to use his bed given he had the top bunk.
"Yeosang, do you have any idea what might have happened?" Seonghwa asked him.
Putting on his best poker face, he simply shrugged.
"No idea."
Choi San:
You had already cum for the 6th time, but you still had 2 more to go since San wasn't quite finished with punishing you for trying to make him jealous earlier.
"San! Please!" You begged as his pace didn't slow down one bit, even after your 7th orgasm washed over you.
You were met with a slap to your ass, adding to the overstimulation.
"Shut up you little slut! If you're going to act like a whore, you'll get fucked like one." He growled as he kept ramming his cock inside you, rearranging your guts.
Your fingers clutched the sheets, face hidden in the pillow next to you as you tried not to scream so much, but even then your neighbors could prove hear you. They definitely heard though when your bed cracked and collapsed right underneath you. You looked up as San pulled himself off you, inspecting the damage.
"Well it's definitely broken." San said.
You face palmed. "No way? Really?"
You got up to clean yourself but San grabbed your wrist.
"Where are you going? Your punishment isn't over, and I'm adding more for using your sarcastic voice with me." San was already pushing you down on the floor.
"Really Choi San?! You broke my bed and you're still thinking of getting your dick wet?" He was unbelievable.
"I'll buy you a new bed later. One where we can fuck all day and it won't break."
Song Mingi:
Mingi had asked you if he could try being the Dom for once and you agreed, it could be a nice change for once and you did not regret it. He made you lay down and pleasured you for hours before he even lined himself up and started thrusting inside you.
"Oh my God!" You gasped when he put one of your legs around his shoulder, hitting at an angle that would send you cumming in seconds.
"Right there baby?" He smirked when he realized he hit your sweet spot and he began increasing his speed.
You came soon after, your walls clenching tight around him, making him get close to his own orgasm. He pulled out of you to cum all over your stomach and thighs, but as soon as his weight shifted on the bed, a cracking sound was heard and one of the legs broke.
"What just happened?" You asked him.
"Uh..... I think we broke the bed..." Mingi responded.
You both got up to make sure you weren't imagining things. Mingi started freaking out.
"Oh my God! I broke the bed! Hongjoong is going to kill me!" He began exclaiming, already imagining the older member grabbing him by the ear and taking him to his room.
"Sweetie calm down." You tried comforting him.
"I can't calm down! I broke the bed! And-" He paused as he thought about it for a second.
"Oh my god...."
"What?" You asked him.
His face suddenly donned the brightest smile ever.
"I broke the bed and it was cause I was fucking you so hard! How awesome is that?!"
Jung Wooyoung:
It was definitely risky for Wooyoung and you to get naughty while the other members were in the living room watching a movie, but Wooyoung didn't care. Besides, they were watching horror films so the loud noise and their screams would drown out any noises you two made. It's not like they didn't know what you two did anyways.
You two were going like rabbits, enjoying your time together since you hadn't seen each other in a long time. Your moment was ruined by a loud crashing sound that resonated throughout the dorm.
"Jung Wooyoung!?" Seonghwa shouted from the living room.
"What did you do?!" Yeosang called out, worried about any damage done to the room that was also his.
"Shit! They heard!" Wooyoung sighed as he looked at the broken ladder on the bunk bed.
"You have 5 seconds to come out." Hongjoong warned.
Wooyoung told you to stay in the room, while he threw on a pair of sweatpants and went to the living room. He then proceeded to explain what happened.
"You broke my bed?!" Yeosang screeched out.
"Relax! It was only the ladder! Geez! But guys! I broke the bed cause I'm a sex god!" He was honestly so proud of himself.
"I sleep on the top bunk! How am I supposed to get up there now?!" Yeosang asked.
Wooyoung snorted. "I'm sure Yunho or Mingi wouldn't mind giving you a lift."
"That's it! I will murder you! Let me at him! Let me go!" Yeosang thrashed around as Yunho and Mingi held him back from committing murder.
Choi Jongho:
"Why are we here again?" Mingi whined for the 20th time.
"To buy a new bed for Jongho." San answered.
As if it wasn't clear enough given they were looking at the furniture section of a store.
"Seriously Jongho. How did you even break it?" Yunho asked the younger member.
Jongho's mind flashed back at the memory at what happened:
"Jongho!" You called out underneath him.
"Yes love?"
"Pp-please faster! I need m-more." You begged him.
He smirked at your request.
"Are you sure baby? I won't be able to control myself. I might break you."
"Break me Jongho!" You gave him the ok.
Well he definitely didn't break you, but the bed did break. However the others could never find that out.
"I told you! I got angry and took it out on the bed! You know I can't control my strength!" He exclaimed. Technically it wasn't a full lie either.
"Ok ok! Geez calm down! No need to get so defensive about it!" Wooyoung shouted.
"Let's just get his bed and be done with it. I have leftover chicken in the fridge and it's missing me." Yeosang said, annoyed at having being dragged there in the first place.
Jongho smiled to himself when all of them had their backs turned. He actually got away with it and they'll never find out.
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.
#ateez#ateez reactions#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez smut
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⤑ made-up love song drabbles
Seokjin tells his therapist he might have a little crush on you
kim seokjin x reader
warnings; this drabble takes place during a therapy session but it entails a light hearted conversation
words; 1,773 words
↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here
“It definitely seems like a crush, Seokjin,” Mrs. Shin nodded, the slightest of smiles lifting her lips as she looked across at him, her glasses perched a little way down the bridge of her nose. She was teasing him. He knew her well enough by now. He’d been having a session a week for the past three years.
Admittedly at first he’d been sceptical. It was policy at the company. With such a stressful and demanding position he needed to have someone on hand to talk to regularly, just in case it all became too much, so he was unable to turn it down even if he had wanted to at first. He’d never been one for talking about his feelings, choosing to deal with them himself. He wasn’t a fan of sharing, not wanting to be a burden or risk unloading his troubles onto someone who didn’t really want to hear it but didn’t have the heart to tell him. He was still like that now in ways, but he figured this was Mrs. Shin’s – Chaewon’s – job, so she had to have a passion for it, right? Helping people…
And helped him she had. He didn’t know where he’d be if it wasn’t for her. She’d been there for him tremendously over the years, especially with his divorce and the strains of being apart from Arin. He was a busy man so these visits couldn’t be in person most of the time, usually done over phone call, sometimes video, but today he’d felt like getting out of the office. Taking a long lunch to confess something he hadn’t even had the balls to tell Namjoon, his best friend of twenty years.
See, the thing was, he had found himself in a bind. It had been two weeks since he’d backed out into your car. Two weeks since he’d embarrassingly taken it upon himself to take said car and pay his mechanic to fix the damage. Two weeks since he’d last seen you, waving you off at the subway station he’d driven you to, and two weeks since he’d been unable to stop thinking about you. He had it bad, and he had no idea if he was deluding himself or not. I might have a little crush, had been his opening line, and it made him want the floor to open up and swallow him whole.
He groaned quite loudly (definitely dramatically), throwing his head back. “But it sounds so juvenile.”
He wasn’t in high school. He was a near forty year old man, with a child. Crushes were for teenagers. In fact, the last time he’d had one he’d been in 9th grade. Moon Dabin, the daughter of one of his father’s friends. It hadn’t ended well, his feelings left unrequited which he feared was happening this time around too. Not that they were feelings per se. That would be foolish. He didn’t even know you properly. This was just an… attraction?
“Well, what else would you call it?” Chaewon chuckled, now not even bothering to try and hide her amusement.
“I have no idea.” He admitted. “I’m just…” he trailed off, feeling like an idiot having to say the words aloud. “I’m just very attracted to her, and I feel this sense of…” – another pause as he tried to think of the correct word – “admiration towards her?”
That didn’t seem right, or it sounded weird, something like that. You were dedicated to your job. The parent teacher meeting had made it obvious just how much you loved teaching. You also had this… tenacity about you. You were feisty, scrappy. He felt out of his depth around you, but oddly relaxed at the same time. He respected you. Not that he didn’t respect everyone, but well – God, what was going on with him? He liked you. It was plain and simple. It didn’t matter if you were virtually a stranger.
“I just like her.”
“What do you like about her?” Chaewon pressed, smiling innocently. “You know, other than her face.”
Seokjin shook his head with a slight chuckle. “She just has this way about her.” You made him laugh. You made him awkward. You made him flirty, as embarrassing as that was to admit. “I mean, I’ve seen her a grand total of three times but each time has been…fun.”
The older woman in front of him raised an eyebrow. “Fun?”
“Different.” He explained with a nod. “There was something there, possibly.” He didn’t want to delude himself after all. “I think we built up some kind of rapport.”
“You mean you were flirting.”
“Possibly.” That word again. “I mean, it’s been a long time since I tried, so I may have been doing it very wrong.”
Chaewon stifled a laugh as she shrugged. “Well, if she was flirting back.”
“I don’t know if she was.” He replied unsurely. “She was kind of annoyed at me, because I wouldn’t let her pay me back for the car but I think it was in a playful way.” He paused, thinking some more. “She let me give her a ride to the subway so she can’t think I’m that bad, right?”
Chaewon hummed in consideration. “Maybe it beat getting lost.” The look of horror on his face made her laugh. “I’m just kidding, Seokjin.” She didn’t give him time to reply, lacing her fingers together as she viewed him. “I say, why don’t you ask her out for dinner.”
“D-dinner?” He more of less spluttered, his shirt collar now feeling dangerously tight against his neck. “Like some kind of date?”
“Mm hm.”
He shook his head, “I can’t.” He was adamant. “It just seems… I’m not – I haven’t dated in a while, and besides, she’s Arin’s teacher.” It would be completely unprofessional. He couldn’t.
“Not for long though, right?”
Seokjin pursed his lips. “Correct.” Damn him for being too easy with the information he’d already handed out. Chaewon had been pushing him to date for the longest time. She was loving this, the chance perfect.
“I’m too busy.” He insisted, but he knew it was an excuse. “What with work and Arin living with me now. It’s just not very plausible.”
“I’m sure you can make time for one little date. Unless…” Chaewon paused to look at him pointedly, “you’re holding out for more?”
“No!” His exclamation was loud. “I just… If things – Never mind,” he ended with a groan, flustered now. His face felt hot. His ears too.
Chaewon sighed gently. “Seokjin, you deserve some time for yourself too. I think dating will do you some good.”
There she went again.
“It’s been what, two years?” Seokjin answered her question with a nod, knowing what she was alluding to. “Don’t you think it’s time to put yourself out there?”
He hesitated. Deep down he knew she was talking sense. While not exactly minding the fact he was single, a companionship sounded nice. A romantic one at that. But who would want a divorced father? He wasn’t exactly a catch now was he?
“What could go wrong?” Chaewon prompted, sensing his reluctance.
“What if she’s married?”
He may or may not have already looked for a ring that Saturday afternoon you’d dropped off his car… Was that a strange thing to do? He hadn’t seen one, but that didn’t mean anything.
“Then she’ll simply tell you that and you’ll have to get over your little crush.”
If you were married, he’d feel like such a fool getting his hopes up like this, and if you weren’t, chances were you were already in a relationship. “What if she’s not interested in going for dinner?” He figured they were valid concerns. He hadn’t asked out a woman in near a decade, and even then it wasn’t comparable because he had known Nana was interested already.
“Again, she’ll let you know,” Chaewon smiled.
“Do you think she might be interested?” The thought of getting turned down would not only dent his ego, but he’d be extremely disappointed too. He really did like you. Maybe getting another woman’s perspective would do him good. “You know, from what I’ve told you,” he added.
Chaewon’s smile grew, gaze casting downwards as she began to tease him. “Well, with the rapport you’ve built up, and the way she was annoyed at you but playfully, then maybe.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, rubbing his fingers back and forth along his jaw. “Shit, you’re setting me up for failure.”
“I don’t think I am,” she said, shaking her head to turn serious. “From what you’ve told me, and granted she’s single, I think you’re in with a fighting chance.”
Seokjin liked the sound of that. “So you don’t think she’s still holding a grudge against me?”
“For what, stealing her car?”
“If you want to call it that.” He didn’t even try to fight it today. He already knew Chaewon’s views on the matter. She’d been appalled to find out that he’d just gotten his mechanic to tow away your car like that. Of course, he understood his mistake now, but back then he was blindsided, hellbent on sorting out the mess he’d caused.
“I guess possibly she can hold a grudge and be attracted to you at the same time,” Chaewon replied almost cryptically, but Seokjin was too distracted by the latter half. He hoped you were attracted to him, just as much as he was attracted to you.
“That reminds me,” Chaewon clapped her hands suddenly, gaining his attention back. “We should probably use some of this session to go over that impulsiveness you sometimes struggle with.”
Psychoanalysing himself did not sound like fun right now. Not when he had to make a decision about asking you out for dinner or not. Maybe he needed that impulsiveness right now…
“However, from the look on your face, I see you want to keep talking about Y/N.”
The sound of your name made him grin. It was such a pretty name, suited you well. Maybe he could do this. Date. It didn’t have to be a big deal. It didn’t have to be scary.
“Chaewon, do you think I’m ready to start dating?” He asked in all seriousness, as if he didn’t know her answer.
“I have been saying it for months now, yes,” his therapist nodded, but her voice was gentle. She understood his hesitance, she knew him very well.
“Right,” he murmured, lowering his head feeling a little bashful.
“So,” she nudged softly, “you better hurry, or you’ll be all out of chances. You did say the summer fate is tomorrow, didn’t you?”
Shit. He definitely told her too much.
Written 2020 - 2021.
Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed.
© floralseokjin 2021
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Verin + artificer S/O? Essek (begrudgingly) brings him to meet the Nein and while everyone is say hi they hear a loud boom and out stumbles from their room/lab S/O cover in ash and soot. They say hi to Verin and he just looks over to Essek and is like 'why didn't you bring me here sooner?!' thank you!
Once upon a time I was taught chemistry. I recall next to nothing but hey, maybe someone will recognise the chemicals and reaction causing the boom. I hope this turned out the way you wanted! 😘
“Essek will be here any minute! Hurry up!” You hear Jester shout as you almost spill the contents you’re mixing. Luckily you avoid burning a hole in the table of the lab. Nott might have your head if you ruined her alchemy equipment again.
“I’ll be there in a minute! Just finishing up here and then I’ll clean up and join you!” You shout back putting the vial back in the stand as you watch the fluids mix and swirl together. Taking out your tools you us it to heat up the vial carefully. You don’t need to set up a proper flame. Besides, it doesn’t even need to boil. Arcane flame. Much quicker.
The divines must be looking over you as the vial does not shatter. You set it at the burner to keep the contents at a constant temperature and move on to the next part of your experiment. Time for some powders. Now it’s key they do not come into contact with the liquids in the vial so you set that one out of the way in a safe place before you grab the powders you’ll need.
Goggles and gloves on, tools at the ready you set two beakers apart. With your tools you scoop some grey powder from one container and put it in the one beaker. You close the container and put it to the side before moving onto the next one containing bright yellow pebbles. You take a few and get ready to powder them when-
“Hurry up they’re here! They’re here! They’re here!” Shouting and violent knocking on your door makes you jump out of your skin, the yellow rocks dropping into the beaker with the grey powder, your elbow knocks over the vial from the burning spilling the contents on the desk, ignited by the burner like a fuel trail. You try to snatch the beaker from the desk but it’s already too late.
“Oh shit-“ You take cover casting a quick spell to protect yourself from the blast shattering the beaker in an explosion that should be audible a blocks away. When you get up your goggles are covered in dust and ash from whatever the flames reached. Yep… Nott’s gonna kill you if Caleb doesn’t get to you first… Hope he didn’t have any of his precious books laying around here….
Your ears still ringing you lift the goggles from your eyes giving you visual of the carnage left. You take off the gloves and quickly put out the remaining flames. Oh shit! you’re having guests! Rubbing at your ears trying to get your hearing back to what it’s supposed to be, you stumble to the door slightly disoriented. Opening the door you’re met with some familiar faces, and a new one.
Caduceus had already put aside whatever tray of tea or food he had been carrying and got ready to heal. Caleb is trying to contain the urge to run in and make sure his precious books are alright. Nott’s already screaming her equipment better be fine or you not just owe her a new set but also several fluffernutters to make up for the emotional damages you’ve caused, whatever that’s supposed to mean. Jester joins her at the mentions of receiving fluffernutters. Beau’s laughing her ass off and upon seeing you’re alright Fjord joins her with a light chuckle. Essek looks completely unfazed if not a little worried.
Then you see the other drow. There’s definitely similarities between him and Essek so you feel safe to assume this must be Verin Thelyss. Damn. He’s handsome too… And just your luck you just fell victim to the carnage of your experiment. So much for first impressions. Here you stand covered in ash, dust and sooth probably looking like a maniac or some sort of mad scientist. Oh god… You’re staring. Can he see your staring? Oh no…
You quickly brush off your clothes trying to get rid of the worst of the mess and walk up to the two drow with a bright smile offering a hand to Verin.
“Hello. You must be Verin! Pleasure to meet you.” You look down at your outstretched hand to see it also covered in the grime from your desperate attempt to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You’re about to retract your hand but Verin takes it anyway and shakes it to your surprise. There’s a bit of a mischievous grin visible.
“It’s my pleasure. You must be the artificer my brother neglected to mention dabbles in alchemy. The pleasure is all mine.” Verin certainly expresses an interest in you, or your work. You’re not entirely sure if it’s both or either and you don’t dare to assume.
“Brother dear, you have no excuses for not introducing me to your friend before.” He directs at Essek as he takes your held hand and links it through his arm.
“Not to be rude but I’ve found myself with a special interest in alchemy. Would you mind sharing your work?” Verin asks you and you look at the others. Some raised eyebrows but before you know it you’re pushed into the lab by a little blue tiefling.
“Yes yes! They’d love nothing more than show you all their work and other things!” Jester wiggles her eyebrows and makes a face as you look behind you in confusion.
“You’ll owe me a fluffernutter.” She whispers at you as the door is closed behind you and Verin and you’re left in the mess that is the laboratory.
Verin certainly expresses an interest in your work and has some basic understanding of alchemy. You catch him stare at your more than once, enthralled by you going of on a rant about storing components properly as to avoid situations like this happen.
“-and you see, it’s so difficult to get these specific components here I’m certain I’ve bought up the stocks of every seller in the city at this point yet I still do not have enough to complete this.”
“I happen to have some connections outside of the city. Perhaps I can help you find some or persuade the kind professor to allow you access to their stocks.” Your eyes light up at the offer.
“That would be absolutely amazing! You’d really do that for me? I mean no offence but we’ve only just met like an hour and a half ago?” You’re looking for the loophole or the strings attached to his offer. Usually this stuff doesn’t come for free. Especially not something so generous.
“See it as an opportunity to get to know you better. With your consent of course.” Maybe you should be glad there’s still the remains of sooth you couldn’t wipe away just yet hiding an onset blush. Jeeze. You feel like a school girl what’s going on and how does this man know exactly how to woo you. Charming, intelligent, nice, a good listener that actually shows interest in your passions? You’re not going to pass on that opportunity.
“With an offer like that; consent, permission and attention. You got it all, handsome.” You laugh only half joking. Does this count as flirting? Maybe it does… This is why you’re not the charismatic one.
“It’s settled then and maybe we can discuss your work more thoroughly in the future. I fear I’ve been a terrible guest to your friends.”
“I’m sure they don’t mind.” The two of you begin making your way back to the rest of the Nein and Essek, the latter of which seems relieved no further disasters occurred when letting his brother leave his supervision with you.
By the time Essek and Verin had to take their leave to return to their duties again you bid them farewell. Before departing Verin stops in front of you and clasps your hands between his.
“I’ll see you soon to make good on my promise?” A little caught off guard you can already see the plot spinning in in Jester’s head and Caleb wonder how you’d managed to charm your Thelyss quicker than he had.
“Yeah. See you soon.” He squeezes your hands before letting go and bidding the rest of the Nein farewell. You’re left there standing watching the Thelyss brother go until the door closes.
“Oh. My. Goodness!” Jester’s halfway through planning yours and Verin’s wedding already. Beau pats you on the shoulder for getting in the pants of another hot-boi. You assure her that’s not how you spent your time with Verin. Not yet, she assures you.
“I-uh should just go clean up the mess now…” You try to excuse yourself and for the first time you’re happy Nott’s still upset about her equipment as she begins dragging you off to the lab.
“Yeah! You better!” The goblin screeches.
#critical role#critical role x reader#critrole x reader#essek thelyss x reader#essek x reader#essek#mighty nein x reader#mighty nein
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Prompt! After seeing that ball gag in the basketball hoop in their room, I’m hilariously imagining Franny wandering downstairs with it during breakfast or something and everyone freaks out about it, or something similar lol
Forewarning: As you could’ve guessed, this one is pretty dirty. In fact, I’ll probably never recover from writing some of these words. You’ll know which ones I mean. Damn it, Shameless, why are these things canon?!
---
They were talking again. Loud, like they didn’t give two shits who could hear them, even though the house was full of people.
Lately, it’d become almost nonstop, and Debbie had just about enough of it – and them.
“Take it, you insatiable slut!”
“Yes, fuckin’ impale me with your monster cock!”
As she stood behind the closed accordion door, which frankly did nothing to silence all the bizarre exclamations and assorted sex noises, she scrunched her face in disgust. Thankfully, her ears only felt like they were bleeding, and the real damage was happening just to her inner calm.
This time, Ian and Mickey were going at it at half past seven on a Sunday, throwing around words that would make even the creators of bad pornos cringe.
They’d been on her shitlist ever since she found several dried come stains on her lilac bath robe, and really, her frustration with them only grew stronger from there. It was one thing that they apparently made sex into a full-time hobby; sounding like absolute perverts throughout their daily (and nightly) numerous rounds was another.
Debbie could take it no more. She was long past the point of finding it funny. There were now very specific, lewd details about her older brother forever embedded in her mind – and she fondly looked back at the days when Ian was still behind bars and dearly missed.
Checking that her palm was covering Franny’s eyes, she squeezed her own eyes tightly before getting a blind hold on the accordion door. She yanked it open, immediately causing the verbal vomit to stop.
“The actual fuck, Debbie!”
She heard scrambling and annoyed groans and, eventually, to what sounded like a fight over the comforter, the bed creaked as someone got off it. She took that as her cue and secured her hold on Franny, who started to dig her little fingers into Debbie’s palm.
“I’ve had it with you two assholes!” she raged, using her free hand to gesticulate wildly. “I was fine with the exaggerated moans and the fact that seeing your ugly naked asses around on a daily basis was now a given, but if I have to hear the words uber-masculine slut and dom top daddy one more time, I’m gonna make sure you won’t be able to stick your dicks anywhere. For a long time.”
She paused, becoming faintly aware that someone was hurriedly trying to get dressed somewhere to her left.
“Now, I’m gonna go back to bed,” she continued, much calmer, satisfied that her case was being heard without protests, “and you’re gonna watch Franny because you both owe me. Big time.”
The room was silent, the atmosphere tense. Debbie let out a frustrated huff.
“Just tell me when,” she prompted, too scared to open her eyes.
For a second, it seemed like Ian and Mickey argued without saying a thing out loud. Then, settling on whatever, Ian cleared his throat.
“Yeah.”
Debbie immediately regretted not leaving without sparing them another glance. Because while Ian was at least dressed, standing in front of her in his boxers and a T-shirt that was both too tight and inside-out, Mickey sat on the bed only with the comforter bunched in his lap.
They were both sweaty and out of breath, and Debbie felt herself flush when she noticed the visible handprints on Mickey’s neck.
Still, she recovered fast, piercing them both alternately with a hard stare. “Can’t believe I even have to say this, but no fucking in front of my kid!” she warned, pointing her finger at them.
---
The slam of Debbie’s bedroom door successfully burst the strange bubble they got themselves caught up in. Their eyes instantly snapped to each other.
“I call shower,” Ian announced plainly.
“Fuck you, I call shower first,” Mickey countered. “I was about to bust a nut anyway.”
“What’s bustanut?”
It was the first thing they heard Franny say, and, yeah, Debbie was definitely going to break both of their dicks after this, wasn’t she?
“Well, Franny,” Ian started as he leaned down to her, maneuvering her a little so that she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of Mickey’s naked form as he untangled himself from the comforter, “that’s a thing adults say when they have to brush their teeth. And your Uncle Mickey has a really stinky breath this morning.”
“Like you’re one to talk, bitch.”
Ian looked up to Mickey poking his tongue in his cheek, his loosely curled fist moving in front of his face in a rather obvious motion. He shot him a glare, but Mickey just pulled his boxers up and left the room, chuckling.
The good news was that Franny seemed content with that. Shrugging her shoulders, she hopped on their rumpled bed and started jumping on it. Ian decided it was better than having to crack the ol’ concept of male ejaculation to her on an early Sunday morning and went about his routine as usual.
It didn’t take long until something else caught Franny’s attention and she started making low frustrated noises.
Putting on his deodorant, Ian watched in the mirror as she struggled with the cap of their lube.
“Is this a special sauce?” she asked, all bright-eyed and curious.
Ian snickered. Franny knew all about special sauces ever since Liam started experimenting with making his own in the kitchen a few weeks ago.
“Yeah, I guess it kinda is a special sauce, in a way,” he replied amusedly. “Uncle Mickey says he doesn’t like it, but he’s a filthy liar.”
“Smells like strawberries.”
“Yeah, it does.” He turned, grinning at her. “Nice, huh?”
She held the tube out for him. “Can I try?”
Instead of opening it for her like she probably expected, Ian took it from her and shoved it in the closest drawer.
“Maybe in a few years.”
Franny sighed dramatically, and Ian observed in real-time as he started losing his fun uncle points with her. But it didn’t matter how pouty she got; he couldn’t actually let her play with their lube. Mickey was right – that shit was expensive.
It only took about a minute this time before she got bored again. Kicking the bed involuntarily with her feet hanging over its edge, she scanned the messy room. Finally, her eyes fell on a black leathery thing laid on top of the laundry basket by the bed.
“What’s that?”
Ian pursed his lips as he thought of the best answer, but before he could give her any, he got interrupted.
“It’s a ball gag,” Mickey supplied as he strode into the room with only a towel around his hips. His hair was wet, and the unashamedly self-satisfied smirk on his face had Ian roll his eyes.
“What’s a ball gag?”
“It’s—”
“A toy!” Ian said, a little panicky. “A toy that Uncle Ian and Uncle Mickey like to play with. Especially Uncle Mickey.”
Pausing on his way to their closet, Mickey smacked Ian’s ass. Waggling his eyebrows, he then leaned in to lightly peck his cheek.
“You betcha.”
Franny’s eyes widened with excitement. “Can I play, too?”
She got her hands on the contraption at the same time as Ian, who at first tried to scare her off with a stern look. Failing that, he started pulling on the strap, giving out a somewhat tentative laugh.
“Really not a good idea.”
“I wanna play, too! Please!”
“Franny—”
With an ear-splitting screech, she slipped the ball gag from Ian’s grasp and set off running out of the room.
“Crap,” Ian muttered, slapping hard at Mickey’s arm when he had the nerve to chuckle. “Dumbass, your dick’s on the line here, too, you know?”
In the kitchen, he found Franny making rounds around the table; the sex toy held over her head victoriously like a golden trophy. Thankfully, the only person sitting there was Lip, who seemed genuinely entertained by the sudden spectacle.
“Uncle Lip, Uncle Lip, do you wanna play with my ball gag?” Franny asked mid-run.
“Uh, maybe later?” Still smiling, Lip shot his brother a look, pointedly raising a brow.
“Franny?” Ian tried playing nice with a sing-song voice. When the kid slipped past him over and over again, he decided to change his tactics. “Franny! Gimme that!”
“No!” she yelled stubbornly as she took off toward the living room. Unluckily for her, that’s where Mickey, having come down the other set of stairs, caught her.
As he walked back with her, he held her under his arm so that her tiny legs kicked the air behind his back as she tried to wiggle free. “Sorry, kid, but Uncle Mickey doesn’t share his toys,” he told her as he settled her down in the kitchen.
Lip sniggered into his mug.
“So, breakfast?” Mickey suggested after he passed the ball gag to Ian. “I’m fuckin’ starving.”
While Ian hid the sex toy upstairs, Mickey made Pop-Tarts. And Franny, being the good girl she was, sat there through all that and quietly sulked.
Then, after nibbling on her breakfast for some time, she stood up resolutely.
“I’m gonna go bustanut,” she stated loudly, nearly prompting Lip to choke on his coffee.
He watched as Mickey cackled, and shook his head.
“Debbie’s gonna kill you both, you know?”
Mickey just smirked. “Can’t wait to see her try.”
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Romanced!companions react to their precious fem!sole survivor getting slapped or strikes by an npc right in front of them? Can we categorize this; who would be the violent/threatening/just angry group? >:^0
omg, i’m pretty sure none of them would be remotely calm if that happened... but damn imagine the outcome of that poor npc. they lived a good life. this was a short request while i work on like 7 other ones, LOL.
thank you for requesting and please enjoy!
the next request i’m posting is gonna be a react that turned out a little longer than i expected so buckle up. 🤠
-
Danse:
violent/threatening
danse would for sure fall under the violent criteria of this situation. he already has one foot in the door once someone dares to go too close to sole, but hit her? that’s a totally different story for another day. that person better be praying to some god out there to give them mercy cause danse knows he won’t. the minute he hears that slap on soles face, it will trigger him to attack without a word. and to answer the question; does danse need a gun to do the job? absolutely not. those muscles are not just for show after all. no matter how many people hold him back, he will always fight his way through the crowd of people and beat the living fuck out of the person, even if they’re begging for him to stop. he won’t even realize the damage he’s done until after and won’t regret it either way, knowing that it was well deserved on their case. now if it was a situation where it was shoving or showing signs of starting a fight with his beloved, he’d step right in front of them and stare them down angrily with the biggest scowl ever. in some cases, that’s more than enough to scare most people off towards the other direction but in a few, he’s forced to threaten them. “i advise you step away unless you desire for this situation to escalate into something that involves solely you and i.” no one will ever be a threat to sole on his watch and he will make sure that nothing will stop him from protecting her.
Deacon:
threatening mixed with violence (depending the intensity of the situation)
deacons nice. he’s really laid back in most situations and is more than willing to let things go if he feels like it’s not worth the trouble. following that, deacons nice to a certain point and if you cross that point? consider yourself on his hitlist for the rest of your life. the intensity of the situation will determine how he’ll react towards it. if the person were to do as simple as shove sole, he’d keep an eye on them and say something within the lines of, “woah, woah, take it easy.” now if it was something like a slap or a punch, he wouldn’t even let it happen, not while he’s around. deacon would have fast enough reflexes to catch their wrist and he’d grip it enough to leave a mark, a displeased expression on his face. he’d even go as far as making jokes with an evil smile, such as, “oops my hand slipped,” or “oh you dropped this,” and proceed to deck the person as hard as he can with his free hand, not caring whether or not he knocks them unconscious. after that incident, he’d constantly terrorize the poor individual, often pulling pranks on them without any breaks. sometimes, he’d even go near them and speak in a happy tone while patting their back in a manner where it seemed a little too friendly.
Maccready:
threatening
mac is aware he’s not muscular nor is he made for fighting, which is why he sticks with guns during most situations. hes a lanky man and gets intimidated a little easier than most people, knowing that many of them could take him down with something as simple as a punch. it’s easier to say he’s more confident with a gun in his hand in these instances. despite his weaknesses, he would not hesitate to step up, knowing that hes unable to control his anger. he’d immediately point the gun at the persons temple and cock it just for intimidation purposes, but knows that he’s more than willing to pull the trigger if he needs to. it benefits him and the commonwealth more than damages it, seeing that this world needs one less asshole living it in, so who is he to care if this person dies or not? he’d slowly press it harder against the persons head, angrily speaking, “back away now.” if the person does so, he’ll gladly let them walk away without an injury and instead tend to sole. he wouldn’t let them go without some snarky comment like, “yeah keep walking and please let the door hit you on the way out.” if they refuse to move away from sole though, he’d gladly take the butt of his gun and smack it against their temple within seconds, completely ignoring the persons body knocked out on the floor. mac would get sole up and out of there as soon as he can, complaining under his breath about how much of that guy was an asshole and how he shouldve shot him.
Hancock:
violent group
consider one thing; that this person who fucked over his lover is beyond dead in his eyes. no one touches his sunshine, and if they dared to? theyll be wishing they hadn’t. hancock can quickly become someone’s friend, but the same can be said if it were an enemy. if he’s willing to stab someone for getting even a little too chummy and touchy with sole, imagine what he’d do if they dared to inflict pain on them. depending on where they are, like a bar for instance, he’d grab a glass bottle and crack it on the guys head, pushing him down on the floor without another word. using his shotgun, he’d make sure he’d put a few bullets through his body before he decides he’s completely satisfied with the new makeover he’s given them. now if he was in a more violent mood and was definitely not having it, he’d want to have their blood on his hands and wouldn’t care if it stained his clothes or not. he wants to send the message to everyone watching that if anyone dares to fucking cross his line, they’re gonna learn it the hard way and he will make it very known how the outcome of the situation will be. for example, he has a knife and what better way to use it than to stab the fuck out of someone for pissing him off? in some cases (depending on the severity of the situation), he’ll shank them in a place where he knows it’ll hurt the most and leave them there to suffer so they’ll get the idea that if they fuck with the people he treasures, they have another thing coming.
Nick Valentine:
mix of threatening and just angry.
honestly, nick is very civil about most cases and he won’t get violent unless absolutely necessary. he will definitely be beyond angry and give the person so much fucking shit for their actions. nick almost never yells but in this case, he’d yell so loud, it would fill up the silence of the room. nick also uses a lot of profanities when doing so, unable to maintain his professional attitude and his usual cool. “now what the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” he’d even go as far as shoving them back, keeping a distance between sole and the person who deemed themselves as a threat to her presence. he’d try to minimize the possibility of violence arising, knowing that both him and sole are not as replaceable as they seem. he’d sneer at the person who striked sole, talking in the most irritated tone possible, “if i wasn’t here controlling her anger, you would’ve been dead on the pavement just a few minutes back, pal. consider yourself lucky that you were spared.” regardless if the person continued talking or not, nick would casually take soles hand and pull her away from the scene as he let out a remark loud enough for them to hear; “we don’t have time for the likes of you anyway, so take your trouble elsewhere.” nick has like zero shame when it comes to back talking or insulting someone he’s not fond of, so you best believe he won’t shut up until you both are out of sight.
Preston:
honestly, just angry.
preston will avoid violence at all costs, considering he doesn’t favor the idea and as much as he hates seeing sole get hurt, he doesn’t want to risk starting another issue. sole has a reputation amongst the commonwealth and the last thing he wants is to taint it or fuck it up, so he lets sole decide whether or not violence should be pursued. also considering that she has more than enough on her plate, he doesn’t want to add on to the list of problems she already has. so unless this guy is literally on the verge of gravely injuring his other half, he won’t do much besides step in front of sole to protect her from any further hits. he’d rather take the hits than to let someone as important as her take them firsthand. he wouldn’t forgive himself if such a thing happened. even if sole did most of the work in the end, he’d still send them the dirtiest look he’s ever given anyone and his hand would already be on the trigger of his laser musket, ready to fire at the guy anytime just in case. before officially leaving the person to do their own thing and bidding them goodbye, he’d get a little up close and personal, talking in the most threatening tone possible (even if he’s not the greatest at it); “once you mess with the general, you mess with the minutemen. i’d suggest you choose your battles a little better next time around.”
Sturges:
just angry
we all know by now sturges is a huge pacifist and will refuse to resort to violence unless he has no absolute choice but to do so. sturges is a very kind man and just like deacon, he’s willing to let most cases go but he respects sole too much to let violent situations like this slide. even if he’s very afraid to get into a violent situation head on, he’ll try to keep it as calm as possible, not wanting to escalate the situation more. being the considerate lover he is, he will ask sole to stay back and keep away from the person as much as possible as he tries to handle the situation himself. even if sturges doesn’t show it, he does get very angry in these instances and will not allow it to happen regardless of the reason. he’ll probably talk to the person with a firm tone and an irate expression but do nothing further than that unless the individual wants blood spilled, which in this case, sole is brought back into the situation. knowing sturges, he’d probably tell the person something like, “hey buddy, i really don’t appreciate what ya just did to my girl. ya need to quit it cause it ain’t right.” or, “if we got a problem, you can always just come to me instead of strikin’ that beautiful lady of mine. i’m willin’ to fix it with ya and if not, then i’m willin’ to take the hit.. though i’m sure my girl wouldn’ appreciate such a motive.” he knew she really wouldn’t. sole would shoot them down before he could let out a soft, “told ya so.”
Gage:
the ceo of violent
even if the raider life consists of injuries, blood, dirty work, and violence, he will never allow sole to get hurt under his watch. even if he tells her to toughen up and get used to it, he truly wants to protect her from the world and anything that could run as a potential hazard. that being said, he doesn’t care who the fuck strikes sole- it could be a man, woman, the highest and most royal person in the planet and it’d still have the same result in the end. gage wouldn’t even give them a chance to explain themselves and would simply let out a small, “oh fuck no, you ain’t.” and shoot them down himself before sole could give him an order. he would take the situation into his own hands with or without soles persmission, knowing that they crossed gages line of comfort. if he’s not satisfied with that or feels as if that’s too much of an easy way out, he’ll shoot their leg and come closer to them to step on their chest to block any chance of escaping. “wanna act tough, huh? show me how tough ya are, why dontcha? be my guest and apologize to the overboss. i’ll let her decide if it’s good enough to let ya go.” if sole were to deny every apology, he’d continue to shoot them limb by limb until he decides to put them down completely. now if sole decides their apology is more than enough, he’ll willfully let them go but let her decide their fate on whether they should be put down or not. in the end, if he had his way with that bastard, they wouldn’t be seeing the light for a long while.
#fallout#fallout 4#fallout 4 companions react#fallout 4 companions#fallout 4 reacts#fallout+4+companions+reaction#fallout fanfiction#fallout reacts#fallout 4 reactions#fallout reactions#fo4 reacts#fo4#paladin danse#danse#deacon#maccready#robert joseph maccready#john hancock#hancock#sturges#preston garvey#preston#gage#porter gage#angst#react#fluff
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original post/idea came from @memes-saved-me
and thank you for encouraging me to write it! i had lots of fun <3
———
Steve Harrington’s parents weren’t around often. People knew that, they were aware. Now, they weren’t home much, yes, but they weren’t not home enough for it to be a worrying case of neglect. They still called in, had the neighbor keep tabs, and came home at least three times a month.
When you asked Steve about his family he’d simply shrug his shoulders and tell you that his father had a firm in the city. When someone asked Mr. and Mrs. Harrington about their son they’d wave a hand and mention how ‘he’s just on his way to graduating’ and then change the subject. Was Steve Harrington the perfect son? Maybe not. Were the senior Harrington’s good parents to begin with? Debatable. But they had something close to functional. They digress.
And so, as children who didn’t have prominent leaders in their life usually turn out, Steve was a lost cause when it came to actually living on his own. He had the money for food and his parents kept up with the bills. But he was horrendous when it came to actually keeping the house up to shape.
Until he had to figure it out to save his own ass.
The first instance was messy.
His first party had been wild. Junior year. Half his grade and then some had shown up. He’d gone all out. The long, fancy dining table had been loaded with foods all fatty and desirable. Kegs had been placed outside for peoples free flow. The expensive stereo which had been installed that spring blasted music from a collection of mixtapes. And by the end of the night, the party had been raging. Raging as in fights broke out, people got reckless, everyone started getting destructive.
That was when Steve regretted not having a plan, he was too sober to just let it go and deal with it in the morning. He knew that wasn’t a good idea. Multiple things happened all at once. Someone dragged a keg in from the backyard, too drunk to find the strength to carry it. And apparently too deaf to hear it scratch up the maple wood floorboards. Then, two seniors bashed their heads into the wall. Successfully denting two very noticeable holes in the drywall. But, oh, that wasn’t all the destruction. Some junior (Steve vaguely registered his name as Jake) was thrown into the wall, actively also breaking a shelf there too.
He had turned off the music and then clanged pots together to get them all out. It worked. A little surprisingly.
And then he’d been left with a damaged house to deal with.
He picked up all the litter both indoors and outdoors, put the little leftover food into the fridge, vacuumed, and then went to bed in exhaustion.
===
The next day he’d then been overwhelmed with many worries over the destruction caused to his home. He was just thankful it had been Saturday. He had the weekend to figure this shit out. He went around the house and made a list of everything that needed repair.
1.) The floor
2.) The holes in the walls
3.) That shelf (REPLACEMENT)
4.) The table
Oh yes, the table. His family’s long, fancy table had an abundant number of scratches engraved into it. Something no amount of waxing could fix.
His first thought was to look for all the tools his prestigious father had to offer. So, he looked everywhere. The basement, the attic, the closets, the offices, the shed. And he did find some. A hammer, two screwdrivers with different points, a tape measure, a wrench, a measuring level, and exactly 28 screws. But even that wasn’t enough and he knew. Next stop was the local hardware store.
Mr. Jimmy was the local handyman and he was nice enough to everyone. But not so much to the Harrington’s.
“What’re you doing here, boy? You know, son,” Jimmy’s neglected beard rustled when he spoke and his shop smelled of anchovies and cheese doodles. “I used to know yer Mama. Back in the day. She was a purdy thing, that woman.” He sighed something fond, “I miss that there woman. She’s not the same. Barely see her nowadays.” Steve was used to Mr. Jimmy’s delays, wasn’t subsided too much.
“Hey, Mr. Jimmy,” he stepped through the threshold of the old shop. “I’m looking for some tools today. Think you could help me?”
Mr. Jimmy regarded him with squinted eyes, “You using yer Daddy’s money?”
Steve blinked, “Yeah?” Mr. Jimmy folded his arms impassively. He had obvious tan lines that peaked out through his sleeveless shirt. Skin red over age.
“I don’t want no money from that bastard’s account!”
“But—“
“I’ll have none of it,” the bulky man stepped forward and Steve’s back hit the cold glass door.
“But, Mr. Jimmy, you’d be taking from him. Wouldn’t that be better than just letting him keep all that money for himself?” Steve reasoned. Adding the suggestive and innocent lilt to his tone, worked his bystander charm.
The scornful eyes grew with joy, “Why—“ he laughed suddenly, loud and invasive just as he was. “You’re a rotten little junior, aren’t yeh!” he galloped over to his counter with the same joyous lilt. Steve stood still in case the man swerved into another decision. He watched as Mr. Jimmy himself walked around his shelves, searching. “What kinda stuff you lookin for anyways?”
Steve struggled to find his voice, “Er- Uhm- Hah. W—Well I have to replace some wood flooring, fix a scratched table, replace a shelf, and patch up some holes in the wall?” He received a raised eyebrow before the man started hurriedly piling supplies throughout the shop into the counter by the cash register. Steve didn’t even want to think about how much it would cost. Although, if he thought about it, replacing everything and then paying someone else to do it all was probably more of a hole. Sure, the emergency cash that had added up over time would be gone, but at least he wouldn’t be disowned for the ruined furniture.
“That’ll be $78.75,” Mr. Jimmy pressed some buttons and Steve startled a little when the loud clang of it opening echoed. He pulled out his wallet anyway and dug around for the cash. He handed over four twenties only a smidge reluctantly.
Mr. Jimmy was giddy at least, “This here money will do me some good,” he nodded to himself as he stored the greens away and started packing the supplies in tightly within big paper bags.
“I’m sure my father will miss it,” Steve fibbed, “Keep the change.” And carried the three hefty loads up and out the door.
===
He had Queen playing the speakers and a crow bar in hand. What he was supposed to do now that he supposedly had all of the materials was a toss up to him. But he had to try.
He got down on all fours and began prying between the first ruined board and one of the unscarred ones. It lifted with a creak and he watched it carefully as he moved the bar up and down repeatedly. At one point it didn’t peel off any more and so he went side to side with it. Still nothing. He tried to push forward but there was too much resistance.
“What the hell? Come on you pathetic piece of wood!” he muttered exasperatedly. He pulled back a little and then slammed the bar back under the board. There was a sharp snapping sound that made him freeze. But the board was unstuck. And, oh would you look at that. He was unceremoniously proud. The floor board popped off. He saw that there was some dried up white lines underneath. He decided that it looked like that stuff in the bottle labeled ‘liquid nail’ and placed the board to the side.
He spent the rest of the late morning tearing up floorboards. By the time a late lunch break was approaching, he had accomplished removing all the damaged floor. He went into the kitchen to wash his hands quick before calling for a pizza when he realized the water accumulation in the sink. And it wouldn’t go down.
“Okay!” he cried in frustration, “What the actual hell now?” He got down again and opened the cupboard doors to the pipes coming down from the sink. There were steel pipes that started from the sink and curved around down into the bottom of the cabinet. There were rings that Steve assumed connected them. So to see what was backing up the sink he’d have to unscrew a couple. Right? He got up and dusted his pants off (a lost cause by this point) and went over to the pile of tools by the front door.
He grabbed a wrench, or at least what looked like one the plumber had used when he’d visited once or twice when Steve was a kid. It took him a minute but he finally loosened the mouth of it and fitted the groves over the ring of the pipe. He twisted and some water started dropping down. It started making a puddle so he hurried and grabbed a pot, placing it right underneath. He twisted again and again and again.
He sputtered as some sprayed into his face, “Awe hell! Disgusting!” but he kept twisting anyway.
Eventually it came off. But the water was quickly overflowing. Not to mention rancid. He yelped in shock and ran all around the kitchen trying to find more bowls. He found one, a china bowl that was his mother’s great aunt’s. He yelled out as he saw the grey water streaming down onto the kitchen floor at that point. He ran back and held the fancy ceramic serving bowl up to the open pipe. He sighed in relief as it worked and when it stopped, finally, just barely brimming the bowl, he saw tons of little pieces of orange.
“Who the hell put orange peels in my sink?” he muttered as he carefully waddled out to the back yard. It was cold out and he didn’t have shoes nor socks on. He jogged on his toes all the way back to the tree line and tossed the gross contents into the bushes there. He ran back shivering with a tight hold onto the rim of the china bowl. When inside he set it on the counter and fluttered about gathering towels. He mopped up the rest of the water mess and went to turn on the sink to check his work.
“Wait!” he jumped down in panic just as he turned the water on and off in the same second. The water inevitably dripped down through the open pipe but it was only a little. He leaned his head tiredly against the open cupboard door, face sweaty and hairline damp. He took the wrench and attached the rings back on snugly. Then, he turned the water on with a quick flick at the knob. He laughed happily as nothing leaked and the water trickled down without blockage. He leaned back against the counter and panted as the slight adrenaline rush flowed away.
===
Some time later he figured that he should probably work on the holes in the wall. He had some sort of paper roll made of one thick strip and a big bucket of smooth and pale mud textured stuff. He took the wide spatula thing that Mr. Jimmy had instructed of him to use and stared at the two dents in the white accent wall.
“Ummm,” Steve looked from his full hands, roll of paper stuff around his wrist and mud bucket in one and the spatula in the other. “Well what the hell do I do now?” he asked himself. He could really use Mr. Jimmy’s insight right now. Or Tommy. Tommy knew this stuff his uncle was one of the local handymen. But Tommy had also been the one to drag the keg in so maybe not him. He stepped up to the biggest of the damages and pulled off a piece of the thick paper. He held it up to the wall and blocked off the hole.
“Oh!” he realized excitedly, “I see,” Steve nodded to himself proudly and crouched to set the bucket on the floor. He stuck the spatula in and took some up with it. “Like paste,” he mumbled to himself and started smoothing the mud stuff on one side of the tape strip he’d measured out. He grinned and stuck it to the wall over the hole so that the top and bottom connected to the uncracked wall. He did that same thing until the whole hole was patched up. He looked at the pale ‘paste’ and looked back at the wall thoughtfully.
He started, then, to slather more joint compound (he’d finally read the bucket) on top of the tape (he had also then remembered the rushed instructions Mr. Jimmy had thrown out). He smoothed it out tediously and left it be to repeat on the other hole. When he’d finished with that task he found his arms and pants speckled with clumps of dried and crumbly spackle. Steve didn’t think it would be this messy. He picked it off his arms as he walked back to the upturned floor. He winced as the dried beads pulled at his arm hair.
Now, to get the new flooring in, Steve grabbed the hammer and the cylinder with the glue stuff. He really had no clue what it was supposed to be. But he did have an idea of what he had to do. So, he laid out all the new flooring, which he was happy to note was just about a perfect match to the old floor, and started patching the right lengths in place. When he had the puzzle figured out he stared at the tube thoughtfully. He scratched at the tip to see if it would give and when it didn’t he went to the kitchen for scissors.
He snipped off the cap and held it upright as he ran back to his station. Steve turned over one of the boards and pushed in the bottom to get the contents out. Which proved more difficult than he’d hoped. A spurt squirted out but then it stopped.
“Okay,” he sighed defeatedly, “What the fuck?” he set it down and went back to his pile of hardware supplies. There was an odd contraption that did have a base with the same diameter of the cylinder canister. He shrugged a grabbed it, “Worth a try.” He fitted it in and adjusted it so it looked somewhat how he assumed it should. He set the point on the board plank and pulled the trigger a few slow times until the glue came out. He laughed a loud ‘AH-HA’ and swirled it around. He flipped it over after setting down the canister and contraption and fitted and locked it in as best he could with the hammer. Sure, there was about two dents because he hit it a little bit too hard. But it was in and he only had five more boards to fit in. He felt happy enough.
Throughout the rest of the installment he had managed to not get the ‘liquid nail’ on his hands and there weren’t any too obvious dents in the floor, nor anymore scratches. He went back to his list to cross things out and check his progress.
1.) The floor
2.) The holes in the walls
3.) That shelf (REPLACEMENT)
4.) The table
He knew he had to use that block thing to sand down the dried compound. and then he had to repaint the wall white. But that would be simple. The shelf though, that was something else. He had seven wood planks that Mr. Jimmy had cut down for him already. He just had to screw them together and sand them down. Mr. Jimmy had said something about stain or wax but Steve waved it off, the only thing that went on the old shelf was little boxes that held his great great great grandmother’s spoon collection (something he had stored away before his party).
He went outside to the patio with the small hand drill, the 3x4’s, and the thin screws that he’d bought from the store. He sat criss-cross on the concrete and set up the little shelf. It took fifty six minutes and a couple minor slivers and scrapes, but he had the shelf put together with the screws just barely noticeable. He inspected the wood and decided that it was fine as it was. A close enough replica. He went back inside with it, not bothering to sand all the little nooks, and placed it against the wall experimentally. If he put it down a little the holes from before would be concealed just fine.
He drew two little lines with a pencil down the line where the original screws had been. He knew he needed a post to screw into, that the drywall wouldn’t hold. See? He was learning. He lined up the backing plank and placed the level on top, shifting the shelf just so the bubble was in the middle of the lines. He then drilled a screw through it and into the wall. Before he let it go he drilled in the second with some struggle since the he kept loosing balance. But eventually, it was in the wall. His arms were sore and he felt a headache coming on but he had the new shelf up and if his mother was kind enough to not go inspecting it, it would pass just fine. He laughed victoriously and skipped a little around joyously. He was almost done.
“Just a few more things, just a couple,” he consoled his aching limbs. Drills were hefty little things and reminded him of those wild horses in movies that always tried to buck the cowboys off. He groaned a little as he spotted the mess of a table on his way to grab a snack.
He turned his nose to the visual reminder, “I’ll be back to deal with you,” he grumbled. “I need a damn Jell-O cup.”
===
It was actually the next day that he finally got to it. His parents would be back home Monday and he still had a few things left to do. So much for an easygoing weekend. Tommy had called that morning and asked him to go with him to a neighborhood baseball scrimmage, but he’d said he was busy and hung up. He had been mid-sanding down the dining table. And after three hours of perfecting and perfecting it all again. After so much time getting sore and sweaty and coughing from dust. The table was finally flat and there was no more sign of scratches. He got the cloth that Mr. Jimmy had thrown at his face the day before and opened the strong chemically smelling can. He gagged but dipped it in and started applying the wood stain carefully, following the lines of the wood on pure instinct. It made sense too even if he wasn’t totally sure if it was actually right. But, either way, within that hour he had the table back to its original color and left it to dry completely.
He stared at the bumpy wall of compound. He knew this would be bad. If the wood dust was bad, this mud stuff was going to be worse. He wasn’t that naive.
And he was right. By the time it was smooth he was coughing and in dire need of a glass of water. He was never having a damn party at his own house again. Tammy and Sara could continue to host them, people didn’t react well to the spaciousness in the Harrington house apparently. In a rush and loss of interest in his work, Steve quickly painted over the patches with white and left it to dry. He got the can of wax and rubbed it on around the table in his final task.
He was tired as hell and he still had to go to school tomorrow. And he really needed to speak with the person who put orange peels down the damn sink.
===
On Monday morning, at approximately 5:48 AM, Steve Harrington sat in the living room watching I Love Lucy while eating toast as his parents bustled inside.
“Hello!” he heard his mother chirp tiredly as she entered through the foyer. She hurried over and he gave her as welcoming of an embrace as he could. “How are you, dear? Foods in good supply?” she pulled away to inspect him with her hazel eyes, “Heating system still working alright?”
Steve nodded and smiled, “Everything’s just fine. But I have to go and meet Tommy before school, that alright?” he stepped to the side and towards the stairs.
“Of cour—“ his mother was cut off by the monotone cords of his father.
“Stephano, what is up with this mess!” In that moment, Steve Harrington didn’t think he’d ever felt as much fear as he had in that moment. He bolted to the kitchen.
“What mess?”
His father pointed to the wrench, screw driver, and tape measure on the island counter, “Away with this mess, Steve. Clutter is nothing to approve of. It accumulates and it’s unprofessional.” If he only knew.
===
Years later, when he was in everlasting love with Billy Hargrove and they had their shared, small and cozy Chicago apartment, his handyman skills came back to great use.
“Steve! Steve!” Billy shouted in a panic.
Steve rushed from the bedroom to the kitchen, socks skidding on the floors, “What is it? What happened?” he flocked around his boyfriend and checked for any injuries.
Billy pointed rigidly to the sink, “Somethings up with the pipes or something.”
Steve rose his brows in bewilderment, “You don’t know how to unclog pipes?”
Billy furrowed his, “You do?” Steve nodded and opened the cupboard, kneeling to check the pipes.
“Okay so there’s PVC pipes here, I don’t even need a wrench!” he peaked back up at Billy’s wide eyes. “Can you get me that bucket I usually give you when you get hungover?” Billy nodded and jogged out of the room. Steve got a hand towel and placed it down, “What did you put down the drain anyway?” Billy almost hit him in the face with the bucket when he turned back. He froze and took it from the nervous man.
“Uhm. Potato peels,” he answered.
Steve scoffed, “It’s always peels isn’t it?”
Billy stepped back when Steve started turning the rings, “What?”
“Nothin’.” He twisted it quick and managed to not get sprayed in the face while the murky water and loads of potato peel flowed out into the large bucket. When the flow stopped he reattached the pipes together and hefted the bucket out to Billy. “Put that down the toilet, Tiger.” He turned back and heard the sloshing in the bucket and the grunts from Billy as he went through the hallway. Steve chuckled to himself and wiped up the small water spillage.
When Billy returned he had opinions.
“First of all, that shit was gross as hell,” he left the bucket by the front door before returning into the kitchen. “Second of all,” he boxed Steve in with a smirk in his face, “I didn’t know you were so good at pluming.”
Steve rolled his eyes, “Finish making the calzones, Bill, and maybe I’ll show you how to fix that hole in the wall behind Max’s photo hanging in the living room. It’s suspiciously shaped like that baseball I told you not to throw around.”
Billy fumbled for his words.
Steve shook his head, “Don’t think you can hide that shit from me, Tiger, I’m the one that dusts.”
===
The next time was when Max and Lucas visited.
“William, do not throw that!” Steve scolded as he held a pan with tomato sauce in it. Lucas dropped his hands that had been ready to try and catch the ball and Max turned a page of her book from where she was on the sofa boredly.
Billy grinned and threw the football anyway, of course. Steve sighed and then grew furious as the same football smashed instantly into the rickety bookshelf and the sad, old thing crumbled on impact. It fell over from Billy’s uncalculated, rebellious force and the shelves snapped apart from the sides. Books strewn out in a messy wave. Steve stomped over and only lowered his near growl of scolding when Billy showed himself already terrified. Max grinned and set her book in her lap to watch.
“What did I say?” Steve demanded while whacking Billy’s shoulder with the oven mitt. The other flapped his hands back to stop the assault.
“I’m sorry!” he yelped, “I’m sorry! We’ll just buy another one!” Steve glared and whacked his head, lighter than before, but still with vigor.
“We don’t have the money, William! We bought the last one at Goodwill for $14!” He bustled back to the kitchen and put the pan into the oven to cook the sauce the rest of the way. “I’ll just have to go down and ask Jeffery to use his wood scraps and nail gun. He’s always kind enough.”
Billy, who had followed him in, looked skeptical, “Jeffery Jeffery or creepy Jeffery?”
Steve rolled his eyes, “Old man Jeffery. And Jeff isn’t creepy, he’s just anti-social.”
Billy went unswayed, “I want to go with you. Let’s go,” he went to the coat closet and Steve sighed, unsurprised.
Steve took his coat and boots from Billy and called to the kids, “Lucas, Max, the sauce will be done in a couple hours. If we’re not back by then just take it out and let it cool please!”
“Sorry, Steve!” he heard Lucas say sincerely.
“Got it, Boss!” Max answered with another flutter of a page in her book.
===
While Steve attached the air hose to the nail gun Billy watched with creases in his forehead.
“What are you ogling, Tiger?” Steve asked as he applied wood glue to a piece.
Billy stooped forward, “Can I help?” he was almost eager sounding.
Steve grinned, “I was hoping you’d ask.” He lifted his own hands from holding the planks together, “Hold that as I nail it together would ya?” Billy nodded a bit unsurely but placed his hands and pushed just as Steve had. Steve lined up the gun, pushed down, and pulled the trigger. Billy flinched at the loud noise and Steve set the gun down and stood up from his focused crouch.
“Are you alright,” he cupped Billy’s cheeks, thumbs gently smoothed the corner eye crinkles.
The other nodded and pecked Steve’s forehead before shrugging it off, “Was just surprised is all.” Steve nodded back and smiled kindly before returning as he was before and finished the line of nails.
Not too long later, the book shelf was put together and Steve handed Billy a piece of sand paper. He showed Billy how to use it and he got complaints in return due to the uncomfortable noise it made.
But they did return home with a lovely new bookshelf. And they’d made it together so it was all that extra bit of special.
Maybe Steve didn’t disapprove of that party all those years ago after all. Look what he got out of it?
The smile Billy got whenever he looked at that shelf filled with Steve’s mystery romance and his own horror thrillers, that fond and euphoric smile was enough for Steve Harrington in the long run.
#steve harrington#handyman steve harrington#billy hargrove#stranger things#harringrove#btw that is not actually the correct way to put compound on#just mentioning#and idk why i added a random mr. jimmy but he’s there so oh well#steve harrington’s parents make an actual appearance too#max mayfield and lucas sinclair#don’t mind me sprinkling in more italian backgrounds#hope this was alright!
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Night Explosions (KRBK)
Kiribaku Writing. There will be a part 2 here and I will post it here as soon as I'm done with it. Hope you enjoy this! TW: Self Harm
Bakugo Katsuki, his one and only, was like the sun to him. He’d do anything for the sun to continue shining throughout his life. But what happens if the sun’s light tends to lose that light? Kirishima had never seen Bakugo shed any tears around others or any emotion that wasn’t anything but anger and annoyance. He had seen him happy, even smiling when he’s alone with him. This was the first time he had ever seen him cry. Right in front of him was Bakugo with tears running down his face as he looked at the redhead with a pained expression.
Kirishima was playing a few games on his phone at 2 in the morning. He shouldn’t be up this late and he knows a certain blonde will lecture him tomorrow morning if he ever dozes off in class. He was beginning to feel a bit tired, as he stopped playing and got ready to go to bed until he heard a loud bang coming from the next door. It sounded like Bakugo’s explosions going off in his room but he wasn’t sure if it was that. He decided to head out and go in his dorm to find out what exactly set off that noise.
Kirishima went outside of his dorm, wearing his unmatched pajamas and shark slippers, as he goes up to Bakugo’s dorm and knocks twice. “Bakubro, are you okay? I heard a noise. Can I come in?” he asked. He waits for a response but hears nothing but silence. Did he even hear him? A few minutes passed and he had heard nothing from Bakugo. He was getting worried so without even thinking, he went into the room to see Bakugo on his bed, with his arms covered in bruises.
“What- what the fuck you doing in here? Leave me alone, shitty hair.” he heard from the male but how could he just leave him there in pain. He slowly approaches him, already seated on the bed as he gently wraps his arms onto him, trying not to place any weight onto Bakugo’s arms so as to not to hurt him. He leaned in closer to his ear and whispered, “It’s alright.. I’m here. You can let it all out and I won’t judge you for it. I promise. What stays in this room will stay here.” As he said this, the blonde hugged back letting his snot and teared covered face on his shoulder.
Kirishima had never known that he could cry like the rest of us. He shouldn’t assume that in the first place. Bakugo was human too and that means he is capable of showing every emotion by the book. Even when in tears he couldn’t help but feel his chest ache. He didn’t like seeing him hurt, especially the fact those bruises were caused by him.
A couple of moments of hugging, Bakugo eventually pulled away from him. His red eyes wander elsewhere as he takes a few glances at Kirishima. The redhead notices this and places his hands on the blonde’s cheek, cupping it while wiping the tears away from his eyes. “Bakugo, I’m here if you want to talk. Whatever that’s upsetting you, we can go through it slowly. You don’t need to tell me, I’ll just be here. Also, I need to tend to your bruises if it’s alright?” he said, as he reassured him.
Bakugo nodded, as he then went to lay down on his bed. Kirishima stood up and headed to the kitchen to get an ice pack from the fridge. They always have an ice pack prepared due to training, and luckily there was one more left. After grabbing an ice pack, he also grabs a water bottle and goes back to Bakugo’s dorm.
He went inside into Bakugo’s room, still in the same position in which he had left him. He sits down beside him and lightly taps his leg. “I’m here now, can you sit up? I’ll just press up this ice pack on the bruises.” He says. “Oh, have a drink!” he hands him the bottle of water and lets him drink. A nice glass or bottle of cold water sure hits right when you’re upset.
Something tells him this is gonna be a long night.
Two pairs of red eyes, staring into each other as the room’s atmosphere grew thick. Both sitting on the edge of the bed, as the tension grew between them. Oh, how Katsuki wanted to cry again and be held by the redhead’s arms. Wait, him in Kirishima’s arms? No fucking way will he let himself do that. If it were someone other than Kirishima, he wouldn't hesitate to throw them out of his room. What was different about him than other people? Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s the way he looks at him, the way he was smiling at him, or the fact that he stayed despite being so difficult. He had friends before, but none like Kirishima. Everyone was nothing but an extra to him, someone that he looks down on but when it comes to Kirishima, he had come to terms that he might not be just another extra in his life.
As much as Kirishima worshiped him, he too had been seeing him as someone who was higher, not as a hero but as a person in his life. Kirishima, someone who he was comfortable with. The way he talks to people, creating connections was really something he admired. He was never good at talking and it came off as rude but the redhead made it look so easy, that he at least tried to be closer despite not wanting to have anything to do with them. Days turned to weeks of trying and he had made a few more friends, gaining at least some respect in class while he had fun. It was nice. He really was missing out. Back in middle school, the people he once called friends were only friends with him out of fear or great admiration. It was all he knew.
Everything he experienced in U.A was different. Everyone was on his level and he wasn't always going to be the top student in his class. He has to work hard for it more than he ever thought of. Not really a big deal, until a certain green-haired nerd entered, U.A. How others thought of him wasn't really affecting him until after the kidnapping incident.
“How could he ever be a hero when he got captured by those villains?”
“Did he cry? I bet he did.”
“He ain’t strong enough to be a hero! Just look at him! He got captured by villains because of how weak he is.”
“His attitude doesn’t scream out heroic. Like, seriously why is he still here?”
These were the voices that kept echoing through his head. Even if he doesn’t seem affected by it, it hits him hard like a punch to the gut. As much as he wants to convince himself that he was fine, he wasn’t. The nightmares came by every night, with these voices and the whole kidnapping. It was painful, but as days went by the feelings grew numb. He was restless, tired and stressed. Always seemed angry which made the class grow a bit more distant with him, but Kirishima didn’t. He always was there for him even when he was tired and no matter how many times he told him to ‘fuck off’, he didn’t but sometimes if he seriously wants him to fuck off he would respect that and leave.
Now, face to face with him. The redhead seeing his ruined face, really damages his pride. What does he think of him now? A weakling, he is. But then, Kirishima had to say those sweet words. Those sweet fucking words, that left him in his arms, crying. He was being this nice, sweet, goofball that he always was in class and he was still treating him like an equal rather than a weakling.
Even after pouring his eyes out, being soft and shit, it felt right. It felt so right to cry into his arms. The warmth that emits from the redhead's arms, the gentle and soft touch of his hands that were rubbing his back and caressing his hair. As much as he hates to admit this, he likes this. No. He fucking loves this. Being comforted, a friend to cry on, and the warm feeling that emitted from both their bodies. Everything. If only time could just stop, he wouldn't have to continue worrying. He wouldn't have to think about anyone's opinion. Just him and Kirishima, cuddling, showing him the affection he never received as a child.
He never admitted this to anyone, but when it comes to family, he never received that much affection. The expectations, a father who wasn't always there for him and a mom who verbally abuses him. All this pride and anger he has was all from his mother. Maybe if his mother didn't compare him to a certain nerd, he wouldn't have told him to take a swan dive off the roof.
It was all too much. He was so glad that he moved into the U.A dorms. He couldn't endure another nagging of how weak he was during the kidnapping incident or the sports festival. He is never good enough for his mom and his dad doesn't do anything but let his mom nag at him. Home wasn't what others thought it would be.
The love, comfort and acceptance wasn't present. If it was then he wouldn't have to be burdened by all the problems he has. He wouldn't have to hide what he feels and act the way he does. Right now, he's getting what he had always secretly wanted to feel. The feeling that made his heart ignite and melt into a mess. It felt foreign to feel such things but it wasn't bad. It was good.
He got an ice pack and a bottle of water, brought by the redhead. Grateful, he drinks the whole bottle in a matter of seconds, which proves how parched he was. Done with said bottle, he places it on his nightstand and diverts his gaze anywhere from Kirishima. One more look into his bright red eyes was enough for him to retort back, due to how embarrassed he was of the whole 'hugging' situation. Despite that, he can feel his stare. The stare that was burning through his mind, seeing right past everything he wanted to hide. His hands were shaking, his whole body was just shivering from what Kirishima would say next. But nothing was said. They sat there for what felt like hours beyond end, which made him uncomfortable. Who wouldn't be, when you're being stared at without the other saying a thing. It was pure torture. Agitated by the sound of silence, he decides to break it with the courage he had left.
“What are you lookin’ at?"
“What are you lookin’ at?” he heard the blonde uttered, making him snap out of his own thoughts. He didn’t expect himself to zone out like that in front of him.
Kirishima was a bit occupied with his own thoughts, to even notice the atmosphere around him. The silence was nonexistent due to the voices that kept echoing in his head. Those voices were clashing against each other. One side was asking him to talk to him while the other was thinking it was a bad idea and that he should wait for him to speak up. Those voices of his were weighing pros and cons in the situation he’s in but thankfully Bakugo had said something for him to snap out.
Upon hearing his words, he smiles nervously, “Oh, sorry! I zoned out a little bit there.. So Bakugo, you okay? No need to tell me and all but I wanted to ask if you were.” he asked, reassuring him that he won’t force him to open up with him, if he didn’t want to. He would like him to open up, due to how concerned he was for him. He was worried, and wanted to know what has been bothering him all this time.
It has been some weeks since he’s noticed his behaviour. His demeanor, and attitude have changed slightly. He was sluggish and had caught the blonde almost drifting away in class. His loud and explosive attitude was there but more so whenever he shouts at one of his classmates, he had this tired tone which was faint and barely noticeable. Some teasing where he didn’t even try to fight back and just sit there unresponsive. It was like he was in a world of his own.
Kirishima had a lot of good times with Bakugo, despite their personalities clashing against each other. People question how Kirishima was able to be friends with a guy like him. Look, he wasn’t just any guy to him. He admires his quirk, his aspiration and how he strives to become the No. 1 Hero. Not only that, sometimes he can find his personality unique. His personality isn’t ideal but he makes up for his intelligence, confident, talented, and honest friend. He is really great despite how rude and harsh he is to others, unless you gain his respect. He knows that he means well and he does care despite the “Idgaf” attitude. If they ever speak trash about his bro, he would totally prove them wrong.
Kirishima mostly puts others first than himself. As he said to his classmates, if he doesn't act now, forget being a hero, he’s not even a man. With his strong sense of righteousness and chivalry, he fears not being able to do anything. Being a hero is a person who does the job whether he is scared or not. All of them have their strengths and weaknesses, but that doesn’t stop them from doing what’s right. Kirishima strives to become a hero to protect. A hero that can protect the people he can reach. People like the normal citizens that roam throughout the streets, his classmates, and especially his friends. Everyone mattered, especially people who have gone astray from the path of righteousness. He’d help everyone who needs saving, for the reason he doesn’t want anyone to feel helpless in their own situation. He strives to protect. He has always cared about others and nothing will ever change that.
Kirishima now sits on his bed, as he awaits for him to speak up once again. Letting his eyes stare deeply into those bright red orbs of his, which shined just like stars. He hopes that his friend, his manly bro, will open up to him without feeling he had to by force.
Bakugo wanted to tell him but he couldn’t get the right words to come out of his mouth. Tongue tied, and a little distraught he decides that he didn’t want the redhead to think of him as weak. He was embarrassed. Why did he let him see that side of him? He should have kicked him out earlier but he didn’t. He wanted him to stay, letting his own body get wrapped up by him as he spouts out comforting words to him. His sense of pride was slowly coming together giving him the ability to do what he had to.
Standing up, he heads towards the door, opening it as he looks back at the redhead once again. "Thank you for the sentiment, but I want you to leave." In a cold tone, he asked Kirishima to leave. Pride intact and a change of heart, he didn’t want to let the redhead know more than he'd let him."Also.. don't go off and tell this to anyone or I'll fucking blow your face off." he threatens.
Bakugo has always pushed away people, especially when he’s at his lowest. The expectations and standards of people and also his views and perception on himself, greatly affects on what others think whenever he is at his lowest. That aggression was all but a mask to shield himself from the hurt he was hiding. He never would let anyone see his weaknesses unless you’re lucky enough to catch him during those times.
He never liked being vulnerable, especially in front of him.
Kirishima nodded, as he stood up from the bed and headed his way out. It wasn’t even his business in the first place but he deeply cared for him. He respected the blonde’s decision but as he made his way out, he looked back. His red eyes looking back at him, a small smile plastered on his face as he opens his mouth.
“If you ever need someone to talk to, give me a text and I’ll be at your room in a matter of seconds. Hope you’re okay, there.. Whatever stays in this room is just between me and you, so no need to worry. I'm not a snitch.” he says as he then heads out, uttering a small goodnight before he heads to his room.
The following day, Kirishima couldn’t help but lay down on his bed, wondering if there will be another explosion tonight. Earlier that day, he had been glancing at Bakugo, which didn’t help the blonde’s mind at all. Despite Bakugo noticing this, he lets him as he was too drained to even call him out for it.
Bakugo was too drained to even bother what people say or tease at him. He did his best to continue working on his studies and assignments rather than wasting any energy on any extras that bothered him. Just a normal boring day, until at night it happened again.
He woke up, with cold sweat dripping down from his forehead. 'Another one', he thought as he looked at the palms of his hands. They were covered in sweat. The smell of burning sugar filled the air as he ignited his quirk ever so slightly on one hand.
A loud sharp pop went out causing the blonde to hiss in pain. “Shit...” he cursed quietly, as droplets of blood began to hit the cold, hard floor. It wasn’t that big of a deal. He was used to it despite the sharp burning pain. Other than overworking himself down to the bone, this was his way of relieving himself. Sleep, Eat, Workout and training was mostly everyday to him with a few interactions with his so called ‘friends’ (if he was even considered as a friend).
After that loud pop, little did he know Kirishima was at the other end of the door.
#kiribaku#mha writings#kirishima x bakugou#kirishima eijirou#bakugou katsuki#tw nightmares#self harrrm#Poor bakugo ;-;#Kiri trying to help
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