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sunflowervolvimp3 · 4 years ago

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you’re someone i just want around: II

“You can call me when you feel like

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

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

Let me be your goodnight”

-Temporary Fix, One Direction

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

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

word count: 15.8k

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s waiting for an invitation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take off your clothes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

Harry is bored.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and give me a minute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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nomsugayoongi · 3 years ago

Text

Off My Face.

Pairing: Jungkook X OC female (nameless)

Tags: fluff, slight angst, eventual smutty smut, softJK.

Disclaimer: So, I literally created a Tumblr to post this mess. There are already a bunch more parts written which I can post if wanted. Haven't written anything in ages so be nice and forgive my overwhelming JK softness. :p

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Who's that?" She asked, leaning against the wall next to Namjoon. He raised an eyebrow as he scanned the room, clearly confused. "Who?" He replied. "The purple haired dude that just walked in. Over there by the door. Black jacket." She muttered, squinting through the darkness. Namjoon chuckled and looked at her like she was crazy. "What do you mean? It's Jungkook." He said.

She gasped and squinted even harder. "Eh??" She squeaked. "That's not Jungkook. Look at the hair. It's...long, and there's way more tattoos there than Jungkook has and..." Her rebuttal died mid sentence as Mystery Purple Hair moved out of the shadows of the doorway and she saw him clearly. It was indeed Jungkook but he looked...different. She'd only been gone a couple of months but apparently that was all it took for Jungkook to transform himself. He looked...older. He appeared to have shed his "puppy" look and what was stood across the room from her was nothing but man. Hot man. Jungkook scanned the room, stopping to talk briefly to Jin before he caught sight of her. His face broke into its token bunny smile and he said something to Jin who nodded before he made his way across the room. "You're back!" He grinned. She gulped quickly, paying absolutely no attention to the nose dive her stomach was currently doing into her shoes as he approached her. "I'm back" she confirmed, returning his smile. He strode straight over, scooping her up into a bear hug. "How was England? Did you miss us? Are you happy to be back?" Jungkook asked, setting her back on the floor and pulling back. She nodded. "Massively. England was...England. Cold, wet, grey, joyless. But nevermind that, what happened to you? Someone leave you alone with a Sharpie?" She teased, pulling his right arm out by then wrist and turning it over to indicate his new ink. He chuckled. "I like them" he shrugged. She glanced up, catching his big brown eyes then gasped again. A silver bar now pierced his eyebrow. "And you've poked holes in your face. Was nobody watching the maknae while I was away?" She teased. Jungkook rolled his eyes and grinned. "Welcome home" he said, pulling her into another hug. She spent the evening catching up with her boys. Laughing riotously, eating great food, regluing herself to Suga's side and wondering why she ever felt the need to go back to England. If anything, the trip back to her country of origin had done nothing more than cement the fact that there was nothing there for her anymore. Her life was here. Her family was here. Her family was the people all gathered in this house. She felt utterly content and beyond happy to be back. However, there was a niggling little something that was putting a crimp on her perfect homecoming. She could not, for the life of her, pry her mind off Jungkook. And as the evening drew to a close and one by one, the guys started retreating to their rooms, the noise died down and her thoughts got louder. What had happened to him? What had happened to her that she couldn't focus on anything but him. He was just Jungkook. She'd known him years. He was one of her family. He meant the same to her as the others. But her mind was screaming and his name was the only thing it was saying. It was approaching 3am. Suga had passed out hours ago and was fast asleep sprawled along one side.of the corner sofa next to her. The room was in total darkness except for the flicker of light from the TV screen. Namjoon was half asleep on her other side. Hobi, Jin, and Jimin had gone to bed already. V was sat at a table opposite tucking into some Ramen with Jungkook. Both engrossed in their conversation and their noodles, she allowed herself to study him in the flickering light. His hair was considerably longer than when she last saw him and now coloured a deep purple, Contrasting strongly against his flawless skin and framing his face perfectly, then resting just above his shoulders. Her urge to run her fingers though it was making her hands restless and she fidgeted uncomfortably on the sofa. She swallowed hard, her eyes skipping over his features. Pretty brown eyes, newly pierced eyebrow which really suited him, cute nose, sensual, slightly pouty lips that broke into the most disarming smile, strong jawline, slender neck. She tried to swallow past her increasingly dry mouth as she became painfully aware of her heartbeat, thudding more and more erratically the longer she looked at him. She reprimanded herself silently, arguing in

her mind that this was ridiculous. He was Jungkook. It didn't matter that her stomach rolled uncomfortably every time he looked at her. It didn't matter that she wanted to trace every line of the dark ink that snaked his arm with her fingertips. It didn't matter that all she could think about was running her nose slowly along his jawline, inhaling the scent of his skin as she clenched his soft, long hair in her fingers. It didn't matter that there was nothing she wanted more than to disappear in him. Her nose brushing his, close enough to feel his warm breath between them, his lips parted, hers skimming gently along his, hot, heavy breath, the pressure of his soft lips yielding to hers, the taste of his tongue. His hands, strong, firm, sliding slowly down her back, hitching up her shirt to touch skin as he pulled her closer. Her eyes fluttered, her breath caught in her throat, stomach churning. What the hell? It was Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. This couldn't be happening. She snapped back into herself so suddenly she wondered if she'd actually fallen asleep. Her heart was racing. Tae and Jungkook were looking at her when her eyes finally focused on a solid object. "Bad dream?" Tae asked with an amused smile. "Did I fall asleep?" She muttered, genuinely confused. She kept her gaze locked firmly on Tae. She could see Jungkook out of the corner of her eye but was terrified that whatever had just happened to her was written all over her face. "Well you just jumped out of your skin so I figured you had." He replied. Her face was burning. She could practically still feel Jungkook, smell him, taste him. She needed to get out of here. She jumped up, causing Suga whose head had been resting against her knee to flop unceremoniously back onto the sofa, waking him with a start. "HUH? He yelped. "Erm....sorry Shugs" she muttered, ruffling her hair and trying to get her bearings while still carefully avoiding looking at Jungkook at all. "I need to go...pass out" she grumbled, heading straight for the stairs without looking back. She knew that exit was highly suspicious but once into the safety of her room, she didn't care. She leaned against the door, bracing it with her body as though she expected someone to try kick it in. The air was cool and refreshing thanks to the open window and she breathed steadily, trying to return her thumping heart to a regular rhythm. "Oh this is not good!" She whispered. --------------------------------------------------------------------- The following morning came far too quickly after a restless night. She just couldn't settle. Her stomach was in knots. What the hell had happened last night? What was that half awake fantasy business and why was it replaying in her mind like an iMax movie with full surround sound and smell-o-vision. She dreaded leaving the confines of her room for fear of running into him. Just the thought of seeing him made her stomach churn. "This is stupid!" She grumbled to herself, throwing her legs off the bed defiantly. "I will not be a prisoner in this god damn room for nothing. Last night was...a one off. Everything is fine. I will go downstairs, I will see Jungkook and he will just be Jungkook. No weird romance movie slideshow, no flutterings, thoughts or desires of any kind. Just...normal" Even she didn't really believe her whispered self pep talk but she feigned conviction anyway. She slid out of bed, pulled on ripped jeans and a hoodie and approached her bedroom door. With a deep breath, she reached for the handle and practically threw herself out of her room. Her determination was not only building by the second but she was also flooded with a sense of defiance. She jogged down the stairs, ready for the day ahead. Looking forward to hanging out with the boys and having a lazy day. She could hear the faint murmer of chatter as she approached the kitchen. Hobi was up for sure and maybe Namjoon. She strode into the kitchen with a bright smile. "Morning guys!" She was greeted with a chorus of responses and scanned the room. Hobi making coffee. Namjoon leaning on the

counter. Suga slumped at the kitchen table. Jimin and Tae chatting as they poured orange juice. No Jungkook. She ignored the wave of relief and made a beeline for Suga, ruffling his hair as he grumbled sleepily against the table top. "Morning Shugs" she grinned. Namjoon was looking at her quizically. "You seem...better today" he mused. She raised a questioning eyebrow at him as she squeezed passed Hobi for the coffee pot. "Better?" He nodded with a look of amusement. "You were...weird yesterday. Not yourself. You seemed...distracted." he said. She shrugged and shook her head. "Jetlag probably. I felt kind of out of it to be honest. Just needed to be home and sleep" she replied, nonchalantly. Namjoon wasn't buying it at all and she could tell by the look on his face but he nodded as though he accepted her reasoning. She stayed in the kitchen with the guys, filling them in on her trip back to England and what had happened during the 3 months away. She got so caught up in it that she didn't think about Jungkook at all. That was, until he came down. She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when he padded into the kitchen. Barefoot in black shorts and an oversized white t shirt showing off his tattoos. His long hair deliciously tousled. He was still sleepy eyed but he looked warm and...inviting. She dropped her spoon, clattering loudly against the table making everyone turn and look at her. "Whoops. Butter fingers" she mumbled sheepisly. Everyone carried on with what they were doing apart from Namjoon who was looking from her to Jungkook with a smirk. "Jetlag come back?" He teased. She could feel the heat rising to her face and hoped to every deity under the sun that she wasn't blushing. "Never dropped anything before?" She questioned. He shrugged and chuckled playfully. His gaze was casual but she felt like he could see every thought in her head. She pushed her half eaten cereal bowl away from her and leaned back in her chair. She was trying to look casual but had an inkling that she was failing miserably. Suddenly Jungkook was right behind her, leaning over the back of her chair to reach for her unfinished cereal. His hair tickled the side of her face and the faint fruity smell she associated with him flooded over her. Her breath caught sharply. Her heart kicking into double time. It lasted literally seconds but it seemed like an age before he straightened up with his stolen breakfast. He flashed her a bunny smile and wandered over to the fridge to grab milk. She realised she'd been holding her breath the entire time and let out a quiet huff. Namjoon's smirk had turned into a full blown grin. Flustered, she stood from the table and exited the kitchen. Maybe she'd find some solace in the lounge. She flopped wearily onto the sofa, closing her eyes and exhaling slowly. Damn. It didn't make any sense. How in the hell had Jungkook turned from bunny to honey overnight. A few more tattoos, an eyebrow piercing and slightly longer hair didn't change him that dramatically. He was still the exact same Jungkook she'd known for years. But...he wasn't. He was hot. Like...painfully, sinfully, stomach clenchingly hot. Had he always been this hot and she'd just not noticed? She knew he was attractive in the general sense. She worked for BTS. She saw the effect he had on women every day of her life. But... she'd never been one of them. He was just...adorable, sweet, regular Jungkook. Now one trip to England had turned the world on its head and there was nothing regular about him. She groaned with annoyance, closing her eyes. She was going to be objective about this if it killed her. She'd always been close to all the guys. Each one had a different facet to their personality that made them so very dear to her. Yoongi was a part of her. She loved him completely. Namjoon was her confidante. She could talk about anything with him and absolutely trust that he'd never give her anything back but honesty and understanding. Jimin was her sunshine. He could brighten the darkest of days with no effort. Tae was her sweetheart. One of the most

genuine, lovely people she'd ever known. Hobi and Jin made her laugh until she couldn't breathe on days when laughter seemed a million miles away. And Jungkook was a bunny. Sweet, playful, easy going, her gaming buddy. They were all integral to her. But NEVER in a romantic sense. It seemed almost laughable to her to put romance and any one of them in the same place. It just wasn't that thing. Ever. They were family. More than simple, fleeting romance. They were her ride or die. None of the others had changed a bit. She still loved them completely. She'd still die for any one of them. But now Jungkook wasn't so much tiptoeing as stomping in huge obnoxious boots into a whole new territory for her. Him and romance seemed intrinsically linked. They went together like water and ...more water. She couldn't even look at him without her mind throwing up a million different scenarios, none of which were located even remotely near the friend zone. She pictured him as he was when he walked into the kitchen. Objectively, that was just early morning after not a lot of sleep Jungkook. Not like she hadn't seen him like that a thousand times before. But this morning he was different. Sleepy, disheveled, soft and warm, relaxed, comforting and so so sexy. Jungkook and sexy were not two words that went together. Now she couldn't separate the two if her life depended on it. God, he was sexy. Like, lose all thought, toe curling, scream into a pillow sexy. Her mind raced, presenting her with thoughts to only fuel the fire. Him laid in bed, languid and comfortable, snuggling into him, feeling his body heat, legs entwined, burying her face into the back of his neck, smelling his hair as he grumbles happily, rolling towards her with a sleepy smile, his eyes still closed, skimming his fingertips up her arm until they stop on her neck, his thumb slowly stroking along her jaw, his lips meet hers in a lazy kiss, still halfway between sleep and waking, sweet to begin with, gentle, his lips brushing softly as he's pulled from his sleep, then teasing as he realises what's going on, his lips part, his tongue tickling her lips, asking for entry which is happily granted. His hand moves from her neck back down her arm until he finds her hand. Their fingers entwine as he rolls her onto her back and straddles her, lifting her hands to pin them either side of her head. He's more forceful now, tongues brushing together, his kiss deep and heady. A soft moan of contentment rumbles in his throat. He breaks the kiss, her eyes flutter open to see him on top of her, hair falling into his eyes as he scrunches his nose up in a wide smile. "Good morning" he whispers. "Everything ok?" A voice broke her from her daydream and her eyes snapped open. Namjoon was stood in the doorway of the lounge with the same grin he'd been sporting when she'd left the kitchen. "Peachy. Why?" She responded with a tight smile. "You're being weird again. If I didn't know better I'd think you and Jungkook hooked up" he shrugged. "WHAT?" she squeeked. Her attempt at casual fell completely flat. She sounded more like she'd just been stung by a bee. Namjoon laughed heartily. "Something's going on. What it is?" He questioned. She considered brushing it off but this was Namjoon. He could read her like a children's book. She swallowed hard, suddenly needing to say everything in her head out loud to a human person. Maybe that would make her realise how dumb it was and restore her sanity. She sighed heavily and noticing the expression on her face, Namjoons grin faded into a look of concern. "Can we talk?" She muttered. He frowned, nodding. "Of course. What is it?" He asked. She looked around and ran her fingers though her hair. "Not here. Outside?"

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jjk #bts namjoon #bts fanfic #bts #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts ot7

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guqin-and-flute · 4 years ago

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please tell me everything about yanxiyao. i am invested. nay, i am obsessed. an ot3 made up entirely of people who Deserved Better and they are GETTING IT. i don’t care if it’s deep, agonizing 3AM thoughts that make me question how i think about life and love and the mortifying ordeal of being known or if it’s pointless fluffbits scrounged up from your daydreams. GIVE THEM TO ME

AHA, this delighted me, I’m so glad!! [rubs hands] Okay, you have unlocked the avalanche, stream of consciousness, here we go. Boy howdy this got long, so full rambling under the cut.

So I’ve already outlined how it starts with JGY, but you’ve probably seen that and I’m probably going to actually write a getting together fic at some point if the scenes start falling out of the sky into my head, so I’ll skip past that for the time being and start with the beginning of the triad. It begins in a most definite V with JGY as the hinge--Xichen and Yanli are very careful and considerate about each other’s time with him and try very hard not to overlap. Most things are separate--sex times, dates, meals (unless it’s everyone [siblings, et. al] eating together), sleepovers.

However, something happens. Perhaps JGY starts asking to spend a day with both of them, perhaps the greeting conversations when Xichen visits grow longer and warmer and bleed into sitting together over tea, laughing, and forgetting the days plans. Perhaps the way Xichen delights in holding their daughter and playing so very patiently with her begins to completely charm Yanli.

Perhaps it’s when Yanli and JGY leave the toddler with Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng to go for a nice leisurely trip together to Gusu but the weather turns and they have to stay in an inn in the middle of nowhere overnight and Yanli’s health takes a sharp dive all of a sudden and JGY sends a Jin butterfly to tell Xichen the situation and that they’re going to be late. And it’s only after he’s sent it that it comes to his attention that this rinky-dink village’s doctor actually lives in the next city over and is out of town for his daughter’s wedding or something idiotic and won’t be back for days--he has learned this after a slog through the rain to said doctor’s empty house in said next-city-over and then returned to demand of the innkeeper what exactly he’s playing at, sending him out like that when he knew the doctor wasn’t there. And he’s in the process of not strangling the innkeeper when the door bursts open and it’s Xichen, completely waterlogged and anxious and JGY is appalled that he’s just flown through a thunderstorm but secretly very, very relieved he is here.

And so they go upstairs and Yanli is incredibly happy to see both of them, especially since her fever has gotten worse and she is freezing. She wants snuggles and JGY reasons that they should both get in on it, because more body heat, y’know (he’s only trying to help, there are limited options, here) but he and Xichen both are completely soaked from traveling in the rain and they hesitate. Yanli is very much, ‘Oh noooo, the 2 hot men who need to snuggle me are covered in wet cloooothes?? Whatever shall we doooo?’ And the both of them are very seriously trying to tell her that Xichen will need to take off his robes if they’re going to be in bed together and is she okay with that and she’s like, ‘WhaAaaAaat? 😲 Holy cow, I guess I’ll suffer through :3c’ And they laugh and snuggle and sleep and the next few days is them taking care of her while she apologizes for getting sick and ruining the trip while they maintain that this is very nice, actually, minus her feeling terrible. They don’t actually visit Gusu and just end up spending time together in the inn while she recovers.

So, after that, Yanli and Xichen’s relationship becomes a lot more physically affectionate--they hug when they see each other, they kiss each other on the cheek, Yanli and JGY both snuggle up to his sides when they sit alone on the pavilion with the curtains drawn. The both of them have talked separately with JGY about whether this is okay, whether they’re overstepping any boundaries, and his response was basically an incredulous, ‘Are you joking? This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.’ And so the 3 of them spend more and more time together, and maybe there’s a night where they’re all in Xichen’s guest room at Lotus Pier, maybe having a few drinks, and they get onto the subject of how good of a kisser their A-Yao is and he protests saying that they’re biased because they haven’t kissed anyone else, so how could they know. And Xichen flushes and grins, “Aren’t you sly?” and JGY blinks innocently and says, “I don’t know what on earth you could mean 😇!” and Yanli is biting back a laugh and also a little pink but tilts her chin up invitingly and they do kiss and it’s lovely and JGY realizes exactly how much he enjoys that. And from then on, the Xichen’s guest room is more of a formality/decoy than anything else and their suite just so happens to get updated with a bigger bed because, y’know, reasons.

✨Vibes✨:

-WangXian matchmaking happens in earnest when YanXiYao first start their arrangement because now JGY has a concrete reason to find more excuses for more frequent visits from the Twin Jades

-Something about the 2 of them together makes it so that JGY can break down more easily--when it’s just Yanli, he still feels very protective and it’s hard to show his anger. When it’s just Xichen, he doesn’t want to cause him pain, and it’s hard to show when he’s hurting and despairing. When the three are together he is able to let them hold him more easily instead of withdrawing and isolating himself, and it frustrates him, but is also very good for him.

-Xichen and Yanli have a very intense and deep affection for each other that rides the fuzzy line of romantic and alterous; they enjoy cuddling, kissing, they definitely aren’t averse to having sex with each other but it usually happens when JGY is involved in some way, whether everyone participates or it’s a voyeuristic situation in whatever capacity (though this may be impacted by the fact that he doesn’t live with them and most days, Yanli is pleasantly lukewarm about sexual activity in general, so who’s to say it wouldn’t happen naturally, in time?)

-Xichen and Yanli have a relationship that has grown beyond just what they have with JGY and have a wonderful time talking together, giving each other gifts, and exchanging letters. There is a shared exasperation for JGY’s treatment of his health and often look to each other as back up (JGY is annoyed. They simply smile.) They don’t feel the need to really categorize their relationship besides the fact that they love each other, consider the other their best friend, are deeply fond of one another, and plan to all stay as they are for the rest of their lives. (Maybe, eventually, this will lead to a secret marriage ceremony, just for the 3 of them).

-It was after the inn/fever incident that she insisted Xichen call her A-Li

-All 3 have a devious streak and it makes for some very sweet 2 ganging up on 1 and showering them with kisses and affection.

-JGY and Yanli write him joint letters as well as individual ones of their own

-JGY and Yanli view Xichen as an equal status, commuter sort of parent and ask for his opinions and advice on parenting things. Xichen loves the kids like his own and gets to essentially have a kid without the complicated feelings of them being his heir and going through the Lan’s strict practices and corporal punishment. He takes them at Cloud Recesses for a few weeks every year.

-Each of the men have their own guilt attacks, now and again, Xichen about his involvement being selfish (Heirs! Propriety! His uncle!) and JGY over wanting too much (Infidelity! Reputation! A-Li!), and Yanli--who has done enough soul searching and has very comfortably decided that, no, she is quite fine being happy--calmly sits them down, gives them tea, kisses their foreheads, and makes them hold hands with her as they watch their kids play.

#yanxiyao #peony to lotus #my stuff #ahhh this was a nice little exploration 😊#surprisingly there isn't a ton of angst #I'm sure I could make some but this is just generally fluffy and nice!#ask #ask spam #Anonymous

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myelocin · 4 years ago

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To Us, A Love Story Unwritten | Kuroo T., Miya A.

Hello!! Before you begin reading, THIS STORY IS A PART TWO to Redefining You , which I highly recommend you read first because a lot of things are connected! :D

Part 1 | Part 2 | Epilogue | Bonus

Synopsis: Time away from Tetsurou leads you to the serendipity that is Miya Atsumu.

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou, You, Miya Atsumu

Genre/Warnings/Tags: None! Angst, HEALING, Hurt & Comfort, surfer!Atsumu, tattooed!Kuroo, Fluff

WC: 7600+

a/n: here’s a word dump of my feelings bcos i made an oopsie and projected real ppl in 2d characters again

*playlist if u want maximum feelies: Blue (Elina), Miles Apart (Nick Wilson)

The thought of healing didn’t cross your mind until some months later.

In the mornings after that morning, you stood in your balcony, leaning against the railing with a mug of coffee, your thoughts wandering. Sometimes you thought of what kind of coffee you liked, and other times you caught yourself wondering how Tetsurou moved through his six AMs. Morning thoughts were reserved for the things you prefer to keep out of your head during the day. Tetsurou, of course, had always been an exception. He somehow always flowed in your train of thought whether the numbers on your watch flashed 3am or 3pm.

Or now, you thought after taking a quick peek at the time in your phone, 6:19 AM; all you could think about was how sad his golden eyes looked against the black of Tokyo’s backdrop.

Tetsurou making his way into your thoughts has always how it’s been for almost a decade, and habits are a little hard to break. At least, that’s what you say to reason with yourself.

Thinking back to your words that night, the “I love you” just kind of slipped out. But you know you meant it. Shifting your wrist to the side, you studied the tattoo again, then closed your eyes to remember the expression on your best friend’s features.

You meant the I love you, you told yourself again. Towards yourself that was for sure; towards Tetsurou.

And that’s always going to be the case, taunted the voice in the back of your head.

After that night, Tetsurou had broken up with his long term girlfriend for good. Though he didn’t necessarily ruin himself over the breakup—there were changes.

He still texted you at odd hours to show you a video he thought was funny, still showed up to your apartment for movie nights, and more or less was still present. But it was during the particularly sentimental scenes in the movie where he’d choose to refill the popcorn or grab another soda, and you could see that his can was still half full. You noticing that Tetsurou always chose to pick the other boba shop that was on the other side of town never flew past you either. You knew that that was the shop he always used to take her after classes—so even seeing how his hands never failed to tighten against the steering wheel when the two of you would drive by, you always pretended not to notice. Even though four months had passed, you know that for him, the wound was still fresh.

And remembering how sad he looked that night, you couldn’t help yourself to feel for his pain. At the end of the day, weren’t you just two people who yearned for the love that couldn’t be yours?

So you sigh and take a sip of coffee from the mug; it had grown a little cold. The digital clock on your phone read 6:31 AM next to a text from Tetsurou asking if you had time for lunch later.

Replying a quick ‘yep. meet u at the usual :)’, did nothing for you trying to have a more productive day off today and thus the morning felt a little slower than normal, so you sigh. Again.

It was going to be one of those days.

Tetsurou always made it a point to look gorgeous. Was he trying? Probably not, but that son a bitch knew people gave him looks that lingered a bit too long to be considered just a passing glance. You nearly snort in laughter at the way he opens the door to the café a little too, for better words, extravagantly, and walk to you purposely taking his time because you could tell he felt the way the young mom sitting at the table near the counter was giving him the look.

Then again, you don’t blame her. You weren’t too far from her reaction, albeit you actually had the decency to not openly gawk at him. Tetsurou plopped down in the chair opposite from you and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows and propping them up the table before grabbing the menu from the middle of the table.

Already knowing your order, and his even though he still looks through the menu every time, you sit in your seat waiting for him to settle on the same thing he ordered the last time you ate there.

“Tetsu, why do you have to be so extra every time you see someone looking at you for more than three seconds?”

He cocked his head to the side and peeked at you from behind the menu, “Because I’m hot, tree.”

Though you rolled your eyes at the nickname, you still smiled at the familiar banter, “I still don’t get why you call me tree when you’re the literal beanpole in this friendship.”

“That’s rich coming from you, considering you told people you knew a talking rooster in highschool,” he deadpanned, but you knew he was on the edge of a chuckle from the way he emphasized his words.

“Hey,” you raised your arms up in defense, “people thought you were interesting that way so…”

Tetsurou set the menu down and rolled his eyes at your response as the waiter greeted the two of you. Before Tetsurou could open his mouth to say what he wanted, you spoke, “I’ll get the carbonara and he’ll get the tonkatsu ramen—“

“Oi-“ he interrupted from the side, still, you continued, “we’ll also get iced tea, extra sugar for him, and a little less for me.”

The waiter looked between the two of you waiting for Tetsurou to finish speaking but he only leans back huffing out a, “She’s right.”

You smirked. “You get the same thing every time.”

“Well what if I want something else one day?” he replied to which you rolled your eyes as a reply.

In between bites, Tetsurou looks up from his meal, “Any plans?”

You twirled the straw of your drink around the liquid and looked at him, “I was thinking of traveling somewhere. My boss is letting me take some time off, and season’s kind of slow, so might as well.”

He nods, and then points his chopsticks at you, sighing, “Oh to be young and employed with an employer who doesn’t want to kill you with work.”

“We’re literally seven months apart,” you deadpan.

He huffs in his seat and continues eating.

“Have you decided where you’re going?”

You look to your left at Tetsurou who’s facing you, no longer paying attention to the movie playing in the TV. Smoothing out the blanket on your lap, you sigh and tilt your head. “Kinda? I’m thinking somewhere warm. Kinda miss the sea.”

At this point the movie you two settled on a few hours ago had been completely forgotten, so you shift your body and face him. He offers you your third (or was it the fourth?) can of beer for that night, which you take and pop open immediately.

“(Y/n), can you even swim?” he laughs.

You glare at him from behind your drink. “I can go and look pretty in the beach while sipping my margaritas thank you very much.”

Tetsurou clinks his can against yours and leans back against the couch, shifting to a more comfortable position. When he finally settles, he positions his head in a way that’s still facing you.

Draping your legs across his lap, you rearrange the blanket so that it covers the both of you. You feel the weight of his hands leaning against your legs and then hear him speak, “How long are you gonna be gone?”

You shrug. “I don’t know, a month? Two months? Haven’t even got the ticket yet.”

He gives you a look you can’t decipher, and then his voice becomes a little quiet, “What if I want to go with you?”

“Tetsu, you know your job won’t let you off that long,” you reply.

He lets out an exaggerated sigh and pout at you, “You’re going to go and find a new surfer best friend who’ll buy you margaritas that flips his hair and you’ll forget about me.”

You chuckle. “Like that’s gonna happen.”

At this point the alcohol must have hit the both of you because you suddenly look at him, eyes soft in the way you usually would mask in the hours you were sober. He looks at you, equally as deep in the state of inebriation as you are because his eyes are as hazy as the slur in his tone when he says, “Nope! Because you looooove me (y/n).”

And he laughs at his own joke, tilting his head back to take another swig of beer. The comedic undertone flies past you anyway, because you fiddle with the edge of your sweater and sadly nod, “Yeah. I do”

In front of you, Tetsurou raises his hand, smiling, then hollers, “High five! Love you too.”

If it wasn’t for the liquid confidence, you would’ve laughed along to his joke and take another gulp of your beer to swallow the confession—but you’re four cans in and Tetsurou saying that he loves you too clouds the usual boundaries swimming in your head.

He doesn’t notice you when you take another heavy gulp from your can, or bite your lip afterwards, but he hears you when you say, “I do, you dumb fuck, I love you.”

And as soon as you say it, you feel him look at you. You choose to keep your head down. A few beats of silence passes before he speaks, “I know, (y/n),” he reaches forward to grab your hand, taking it into his. He traces the lining of the tattoo before continuing, “I know your tattoo story. And I’m still proud of-“

“I love you, Tetsurou,” you could almost wince at how loud it echoed in the silence, and the alcohol is still swimming in your system so you take another gulp hoping to dive deeper.

You feel him stop tracing the lines on your wrist so you take your hand back to your lap. He let the quiet envelop the room again before he spoke, and you could tell he was careful with his words.

“That time in the balcony, when you said you loved someone…” he trailed off so you look up and catch his stare. His eyes were still glassy; your head was still swimming, the rational thoughts further muffled by liquid confidence.

“I meant you,” you say, and try to fight the urge to break eye contact.

And because Tetsurou chooses to reply with a hushed ‘I’m sorry.’, you tell him ‘it’s okay, Tetsu.’ and retreat to your bedroom with a mumbled excuse of sleeping off a headache.

You lie in the dark with one hand over your eyes and sniffle quietly. You hear his “I’m sorry,” echo in the silence, but you try to ignore the thought at how immediate the apology was. He always had a habit of thinking about his answers in uncertain situations.

But you know him more than you give yourself credit for, you realize, so you shut your eyes and ignore the sting of the tears because you know. You’ve always known everything you felt for him had been on the unrequited side for the most part.

The certainty in his apology still hurt none the less.

That morning you wake up with a slight pound in your head and an empty apartment. At least he didn’t stick around, you thought, fully aware that the conversation afterwards would have most likely been too awkward to sit through.

Sighing as you rounded the corner to enter the kitchen, you paused in your track to look at the table where a plate of omurice lay in the middle next to a glass of sweet tea, the condensation still a little fresh on the glass.

Taking a seat and whispering a soft, “Itadakimasu”, you picked up the glass and took a sip. It didn’t taste as sweet as his.

Your eyes still stung, but you couldn’t help but smile at the taste. Looks like he remembers how you like your tea too.

After that night, there never really came a talk about where the two of you stood. Two days after the not so sober confession, Tetsurou showed up at your door with a bag of donuts demanding your company to picnic at this new spot he found recently. So you played along and pretended like nothing happened. The rational thoughts were back, your head no longer cloudy so this time, you laughed along with Tetsurou.

Though you could tell this time around his gaze towards you lingered a little longer, and he began to have moments where it looked like he was contemplating to start a conversation then ultimately deciding against it at the very last second. It was fine, though. You weren’t sure if you were ready to have that conversation just yet.

So the next few weeks flowed like how it always did. Movie nights, playful banters, small talk, and beer—only this time you never drank more than two.

“Have you decided where you’re going?” he asks.

“Yeah, there’s this island in the Philippines. Siargao. My flight’s next week. The place looks sunny enough, but I might hop around the other islands if I stay long enough,” you reply.

“Don’t drown,” he laughs, and sets his beer down. You turn your focus back to the movie after chuckling at his reply and ignore how he never picked up a third can this time. And unlike before, he didn’t ask if he could come along this time.

Tetsurou drops you off with a half hug and a request that you update him as often as you can.

After a final wave at the gate, you board the plane with a return ticket to Japan slotted for two months later down the year.

The island of Siargao is as beautiful as the pictures you always see on social media. Outside the unit you rented, was a stretch of untouched beach that was some ways from the main square of the city. And true to your words, for the first week of your arrival, you spent your days kicking the sand, lounging by the water and sipping on margaritas.

Tetsurou sent you multiple messages during the first few days, to which you replied through selfies with your margaritas. He’d send you a photo of himself rolling his eyes with the caption “off to work, because I have a job. Like some people.” , or something along similar lines.

You tried to think this wasn’t some random trip you took just because of Tetsurou. It had been a long time since you last took a vacation for yourself; work was lenient, you saved up enough, and frankly, you missed the beach. Tetsurou was just the icing on top of the cake that helped you make your decision, you rationalized.

Plus, you thought, this place is paradise.

And you held on to that thought because a few days later came the knock on your door at six in the morning that introduced you to the serendipity you never could have predicted. Your little summer serendipity came in the form of a six foot one, and totally ripped blonde named Miya Atsumu.

He knocked at your door asking if you knew any places that rented out surfboards and scooters. By the time he was at the third word of his sentence, you knew he was Japanese because of the accent that lingered after he spoke. By the fourth sentence, he smiled in a way that had his eyes crinkling. And by the end of the conversation, by whatever being possessed you in that moment, probably that extra margarita, you had agreed to go to the main square in the city with him.

Atsumu knocks on your door for the second time that day at five in the afternoon wearing a loose white button shirt and another eye crinkling smile. Dangling a set of keys in one hand he nodded behind him and said, “Ready to go? I got the scooter from the place you told me.”

This time, you voiced out your hesitation, “Ahh, it’s alright. You don’t have to get dinner for me tonight. I just happened to know a place.”

He smiles and blinks at you laughing, “Ya travelin’ alone?” You nod then he continues, “Same here. Might as well know someone in the area. Heard the food here’s good, so let’s go.”

You open your mouth to protest but he turns and walks towards his scooter so you huff and follow after him. He did have a point. You were going to be there for two months so might as well actually take the time to know some people.

After Atsumu helps you fasten the belt on the helmet, he tells you to ‘feel free to hold on to my waist if ya need to balance.’ and then backs to the main street. Your hands rest on his shoulders as he drives along a road parallel to the stretch of water on your far left. It must have been close to seven, you take note, because as you glance up the colors in the sky begin to blend into mellow hues of orange and red.

You look forward and glance at Atsumu’s reflection in the side mirror before briefly catching his eye. From the mirror, you could see an expression that was somewhere between a smirk and a smile.

“Ya like what ya see?” he yells over the wind.

You squeeze his shoulder, then lean closer saying, “Just drive. I’m not in the mood to die.”

He laughs over the holler of the open air and you can’t help but smile along to how his laugh lingers in the air.

Soon enough, the two of you settle into a restobar by the beach, one close enough to the water where you could ditch your flip flops and let your feet sink in the sand.

This has got to be the fifth margarita I’m drinking today, you think to yourself before taking a sip. Still good though, you inwardly snort. Atsumu sits across you from the table nursing his own choice of drink.

The atmosphere was nice, the live musician strumming his first song in the background. Then Atsumu speaks from across you, “So,” he begins, “How long ya stayin’?”

You fiddle with the straw of your drink, facing him, “Two months. You?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know yet. Off season and there’s not much to do back home, so might as well be bored somewhere a little more scenic.”

“Indefinite vacation,” you nod—impressed, “Must be hella loaded.”

He laughs again, “I’m comfortable.”

The silence envelops the two of you again, but as the musician begins another song, from the corner of your eye you see Atsumu listen, clap, and smile so you decide maybe befriending this stranger won’t be so bad after all.

The next night you head for go for drinks, Tetsurou messages you with a picture of him and Kenma in the car with a caption, “movie night minus the traitor who left the country >:((“ and you reply with your signature margarita selfie with Atsumu throwing a peace sign to your right. Tetsurou replies with a smiley face and you don’t hear from him for the rest of the night.

The next few weeks consisted of waking up shy of the sunrise and walks along the trail where the waves crept towards the sand. Atsumu liked to join you in the mornings, of course, the days he actually wakes up before ten AM. Some days you’d watch him peddle out into the water catching wave after wave as you sat in the sand, under a shade. You didn’t really go out into the water and preferred to just sit in the sun, so the times Atsumu would catch a break, he’d lay out a towel next to you and sit to talk.

He was talkative. Extremely talkative. But it was welcome, you suppose. He asked aimless questions during conversations. Conversations with him usually sounded like this: “(y/n)?” “Yep?” “Whadda ya think about riceballs?” “They’re…okay, I guess.” “Good to know.”

It was endearing, you suppose. Atsumu respected your boundaries and never pried, that fact was for sure. Though, he chose to fill in the beats of silence with little facts about his life. Over the course of the next month, in the moments you’d spend with Atsumu during the day, you’ve learned that he was playing for a professional volleyball team, he’s originally not from Tokyo, he tripped during a fan meeting, has a twin brother who’s darn good at cookin’ (he emphasized), and that his favorite food is fatty tuna. You don’t remember specifically asking, but he talks anyway you can’t bring yourself to mind one bit.

During the past month and some, Tetsurou sporadically texts you a greeting to which you reply to—but this time, it wasn’t until much, much later that you realize you didn’t think too much about the change of tone and much hastier conversations. You usually ended the phone call this time around, too.

Nearing the last few stretches of golden hour, Atsumu would routinely knock at your door and drag you out to walk around the beach only retreating to your respective units hours after the sunset.

It was during this one night where Atsumu sits you down and stars a small bonfire. He excused himself for a brief moment then came back with a Tupperware of what you assumed to be snacks, a blanket, and a hoodie which he lent you (that up to now you still haven’t returned). You smile as he takes his seat next to you, comfortable in his hoodie.

“So,” Atsumu breaks the silence, “how come yer runnin’ away for two months?”

“That’s kinda sudden,” you reply.

He knocks your shoulder with his lightly before speaking again, “You don’t have ta’ share if you don’t wanna.”

“No pressure,” he says again and his eyes crinkle at his smile so you press your shoulder against his and say, “I just wanted time for myself I guess.”

He nods, so you continue, “It’s nothing dramatic, really. For a big part of my life I just…lived according to how people placed me in their lives. I guess I just wanted the space where I had to make decisions from nothing if that even makes any sense.”

“Depends. How many margaritas did ya have today?” he jokes.

“Atsumu! You were with me the whole day, I haven’t even had one yet,” you laugh out.

“But I understand what ya’ mean. Yer all good, I just thought you were gonna say you were soul searchin’ cause of a boy that broke ya’ heart back home.”

You look at him and wince. “In a way, that was a factor as well.”

Half expecting a sympathetic reply, you find yourself rolling your eyes and laughing because Atsumu suddenly yells, “Bingo!” and flicks your forehead.

He faces you and holds his hands up, “Hey, we all got a reason to do stuff so I ain’t gonna judge ya’.”

You smile and lean against his shoulder because you know he’s sincere.

“Atsumu?” you call out.

“Yeah?” he replies as he turns his head looking at you.

The red of the flames flicker as a glassy reflection against the brown in his eyes and your thoughts become jumbled for a second.

“If I find out you’re here because you got dumped I’m never letting you live it down.”

His eyes crinkle along with his laugh and you find yourself missing the pools of brown, but the echo of his laugh resonates clear in your ears as compensation so you decide you’re satiated.

“I swear I just got bored back home!”

Atsumu spends the next few hours by telling you stories and giving you soft smiles, and you don’t notice the absence of Tetsurou’s message that night.

On the afternoon after some weeks more, Atsumu comes to you by knocking at your door at five in the afternoon (which doesn’t even surprise you at this point), demanding you put on swimwear because he was going to teach you how to swim. At first, you stare at him with a blank look—wherein he stares at you right back with equal intensity, so after some time, you sigh and shoo him out, telling him you’ll meet him outside after you get ready.

After tugging on some shorts and a bikini top, you walk outside and glance around looking for the telltale blonde of Atsumu’s head. It doesn’t really surprise you when you hear your name being hollered from some distance, so as you look to the direction of the water—you see Atsumu waving his arms wildly, already waist deep out in sea.

The water was warm, at least, and you carefully wade in the water towards Atsumu. He lets you grab his arms to help you find balance against the waves knocking against you.

“You know you’re going to fail if you try to teach me right?” you say.

“Just needed an excuse to get you in the water,” he chuckles.

You respond by splashing him with a handful of water. And somewhere in between splashes of water and playful banter, you find yourself wading chest deep into warm water, Atsumu’s arms acting as your anchor against the push and pull of the waves. The two of you stay like that for some time and you allow the woosh of the water and distant sounds of the children on shore fill the silence.

“Golden hour’s almost up, ‘Tsumu, we should go back.” you say after some time.

He stands behind you and leans down a bit, then surprises you as he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back to his chest. Your breath hitches, then his voice sounds low near your ear, “Look at the sky.”

And so you do. The sky in front of you lights itself in bursting shades of oranges, reds, and touches of violets. You turn your face to the side but stop because you see Atsumu staring at you, the expression on his face soft.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” his lips part to say, and you nod because you see licks of the sky’s painting reflected in the glassy brown pools of Atsumu’s eyes.

He blinks and smiles in a softer way that only the corners crinkle up, and you don’t notice how your hand eventually found its way to wrap around his because you’re gravitating towards him—face angling closer until you felt his lips press against your forehead.

“Did you know,” you begin, “when you feel deja vu that means the universe is telling you you’re going down the right path?”

Atsumu looks as you, “Does this feel familiar?”

“In a way,” you respond and smile.

Turning to face him, Atsumu’s hands cradle yours as he presses his lips towards the side of your lips, then back to the side of your head feeling him smiling into the kiss. “You’re somethin’ else, (y/n).”

You look at him wearing a smile mirroring his, “Something good I hope.”

It’s something good, you decide later that night as you settle in bed after dinner with Atsumu. The past few hours flew by in a mirage of good conversation, light hearted jokes and even more eye crinkling smiles from Atsumu.

Settling into the comforter, you grab your laptop just in time as Tetsurou’s face pops up on screen, requesting a video call. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you hit the accept button and wave hello as Tetsuou’s face appears on the screen. He holds a can of beer as a greeting and leans forward. His eyes look glassy.

“(Y/n)..” His voice trails off before slowly continuing, “—how are you?”

You don’t notice his tone from the high you’re still feeling from the day so you beam at him, “I’m good! Atsumu and I are really hitting it off! You’d love him Tetsu!”

He stares at you through the webcam and then he sighs deep. Finally catching a drift of the atmosphere he’s giving off, you watch him crack another beer open and slowly speak, “You okay? Did something happen?”

He sets the can down at the table in front of him and places his face in his hands. You notice the new ink around his forearms. “I miss you, (y/n).”

“I’ll be home next week, Tetsu,” you say

“I—“ he pauses to look up at you with glassy eyes, “I think we should give us a try.”

Your heart clenches. “Tetsurou, you’re drunk. We can talk when I get home.” He shakes his head, and his movement is a little sluggish, so you continue to speak before he could, “I saw the photo your ex posted earlier. You’re still not okay, Tetsu.”

He leans back to his chair with a little force, “And suddenly you are? After being in love with me for eight years, (y/n), you expect me to believe that you’re suddenly okay? Bullshit.”

Your face grimaces, and you feel anger bubble up, the emotion seeping into your words, “I don’t think you’re ever going to go away, Tetsurou. For years I watched you fall in and out of love with someone who was never me. I’m not suddenly okay but I accepted that this—“ you pause to gesture between the two of you, “—isn’t going to happen and I’m moving on. I watched you when you were at your happiest and I deserve that too, Tetsu. I deserve to be at my happiest whether it be by myself or with Atsu-“

“We can try, (y/n),” he cuts you off softly.

“But I don’t deserve someone who isn’t sure about me,” you reply.

And maybe it’s the liquid confidence that riles him up, but he suddenly straightens his back and looks at you with the same glare you stare at him with, “And are you sure about Atsumu? You told me none of us are saints, (y/n), you’re not better off than I am here.”

You open your mouth, but the silence remains; the atmosphere suddenly heavy.

Then Tetsurou slumps before he he speaks, “(Y/n), I—“

“It’s okay, Kuroo,” you watch as he winces at his surname, “It’s late and I really want to get some sleep. You should too. Take care.”

You catch the last second of him parting his lips at an attempt to reply before you promptly ended the call and shut off your laptop.

His words ring in your ear the entire night, and you think of Atsumu the entire night. You watch the second hand of the clock on your bedside table tick slowly. Your hand comes to rest against your eyes as you try to let sleep pull you in.

You think of Tetsurou who looked at you with glassy eyes that told you all the reasons why his heart was still hurting, then you think of Atsumu—of how the sunset looked better reflected in his eyes than it did painted across the sky.

“I really hope this is something good,” you echo your words from earlier as you let sleep finally succumb into slumber.

The night before your flight, Atsumu seats you outside for a bonfire, with the same blankets, snacks, and hoodie fitted around you. The first few hours he jokes about little stories that happened throughout his life and listens patiently when you’d share a snippet of yours.

At this point, you weren’t sure where the two of you stood. You look at him from the corner of your eye as he blows against an extremely burnt marshmallow before sheepishly offering the stick to you.

“When we’re back in Japan I’m lettin’ ya taste ‘Samu’s cookin’ to make up for this I swear.”

You lean your head against his arm and blow on the charred marshmallow, “Have you decided when you’re coming back?”

“Yes, but I’m not tellin ya,” Atsumu chuckles.

“What!” You exclaim, suddenly sitting up, “You already have a ticket?”

“That’s also a secret, doll.”

You sigh and move to lightly punch his shoulder, but instead, he catches your hand midway and envelops it in his own. Atsumu looks at the tattoo on your wrist peeking out, so tentatively, he pushes down the sleeve and looks at it.

“Baby’s breath means eternal love, right?” he asks, voice hushed.

“I’m surprised a big, buff, man like you knows,” you reply.

“Oi, big buff men can be sentimental too,” Atsumu quips.

“(Y/n),” he begins then looks at you in a way that suddenly has your stomach churning, “Should we give us a go at this?”

He asks the same question as Tetsurou did a few nights back and your head is swimming. Tetsurou’s words muddle the thoughts in your head as you turn to face Atsumu who is looking at you with eyes that always held the same softness that remained unchanged from two months ago.

Is this even fair for Atsumu? is the thought that you circle around.

“I don’t want to give you only half of me, ‘Tsumu,” you cradle his cheek in your palm and your heart stirs when he leans in.

“You’re too good for me,” you confess.

He closes his eyes and you find yourself missing the dancing specks of scarlet flames reflected in his orbs.

“You’re killin’ me, doll,” he sighs, his face still warm against your palm. Atsumu’s hand trails up and cups your hand that’s still flush against his cheek.

“Is this the part where we say we’re the right people who met at the wrong time?” he jokes quietly. Atsumu looks at you with a smile contrasting against the somber expression in his face, and you feel your heart clench.

Your thoughts momentarily flicker back to the night you talked to Tetsurou in your balcony some months ago and remember the feeling of déjà vu hinting that you were heading in the right direction with your decision.

Staring back at him, you look at your own reflection in darkened pools of brown and don’t feel déjà vu’s familiar push. Atsumu’s other hand trails up your face and his thumb rubs against your cheek. You stay silent when he sighs again and your heart clenches in the way that hurts, and your brain scrambles for a reason why.

Atsumu angles your hand in a way that lets him press a kiss to the tattoo on your wrist. “Hope ya heal in time, (y/n).”

You’re still quiet, thoughts still muddled as your rationality wrestles to string words to convey to Atsumu. “We can stay in contact, ‘Tsumu. I still want you to be in my life,” you slowly say.

“I don’t wanna be hurtin’ you while you’re still tryin’ to find yourself,” he says, and you nod. Déjà vu never comes and your heart still aches.

And your heart remains heavy as the two of you stand up to retreat for the night. Against the door of your room you look at him and press a kiss on his cheek. He smiles at you.

“Well, I guess,” you initiate, “see you around?”

He smiles and crosses the short distance between the two of you, then presses a chaste kiss on your forehead. “If the universe wills it, doll.”

The feeling of déjà vu is absent for the rest of the night.

After the first few days of your arrival back in Japan, you stay in your apartment cursing the winter. This particular winter was a little harsh for Tokyo and the sudden temperature change you needed to adjust to didn’t help with your traitor immune system. Kenma had waited for you at the arrival area of the airport instead of Tetsurou that day. Then again, you weren’t complaining—you didn’t have any plans to talk to him immediately after coming back home.

You didn’t need to report back to your job until the next week so the first few days, you loitered around your apartment mindlessly passing the time. Some mornings, you’d drag a chair by the balcony and sip your morning coffee. The snow accumulating on the rails and the gloomy morning light was a far cry from the little island you explored with Atsumu back in the Philippines, but your thoughts still ghosted around him from time to time.

The morning you left for the airport, he slept in, but that didn’t stop you from leaving a sticky note in his front door with your contact details neatly printed in the paper. Throughout your day, your eyes constantly flickered to sneak glimpses at your phone’s notification bar, but there was never an unknown number. So you sighed, and instead scrolled through the photos you managed to capture with him. The image of Atsumu stared back at you through the screen, expression beaming with unfiltered happiness and you find yourself smiling along every time.

A knock on your door one morning brings you out of your haze. Before you could look through the peep hole, another knock comes and then a voice, “Ah, (y/n), I think you’re home now,” your hand on the door knob loosens, “It’s Tetsurou. Can we please talk?”

You must have stayed quiet too long because he speaks again, “I got you donuts.”

And you sigh, because he’s right, the two of you need to talk. But you still tell yourself you’re only opening the door because it’s six in the morning and you can’t be bothered to make breakfast so the donuts are the only reason you’re letting him in.

Tetsurou sits on the opposite side of the dining table gripping the handle of his mug with one hand before he clears his throat and looks at you, “I’m sorry.”

“Tetsurou,” you begin, “You’re someone that I don’t think will ever leave my system.” His eyes are a little clearer now that you return his stare. “You’re still the person who grew up with me even if time difference existed you know. You’ve had so many roles in my life and that’s never going to change.”

He looks at you, suddenly looking like a teenager again. His golden eyes stare at you and gleam of something unspoken. “I think somewhere along the years I really did fall in love with you, (y/n). And it just sucks how we never met at the same page. I really do love you, (y/n).”

“Maybe in the next life, Tetsu,” you say suddenly choked up. “We both deserve-“

“A fresh start.” He cuts you off, smiling. “A fresh start.” You affirm.

Before you knew it, Tetsurou rolls his sleeve to his elbows and angles his arm showing you a small outline of the sun peeking out behind some buildings. You look at him just in time for his explanation, “It’s not as sentimental as your baby’s breath tattoo, but sunrises remind me of you.”

You feel your eyes water when you look at the amber of his eyes growing glassier, “You got a tattoo that reminds you of me?”

“You’ve always been a constant in my life, (y/n). I shared so many sunrises with you. And I mean it when I say that I want you to find what makes you happy.” He tells you as you smile and lean forward, tracing the lining of his tattoo. The moment feels a little like déjà vu that doesn’t disappear when Tetsurou speaking again, “I love you enough to realize that kind of happiness won’t be with me, (y/n).”

He looks at you and everything feels so familiar. You choke out a sob that sounded a little like a laugh and Tetsurou does the same.

“You’re never getting rid of me, you lunatic,” you say, and Tetsurou laughs—eyes glassy from the pricks of tears fighting to slide down his cheeks. “We’re okay, right?” He asks you. And you nod, because your heart constricts in a way that doesn’t hurt, the knot in your stomach gone and Tetsurou looking so beautiful from the morning light that filtered in feels so familiar.

“Always, Tetsu.”

And after some moments of comfortable silence, he looks to the window on his left saying, “So, surfer dude slash volleyball player, huh? I think you got a type going on, (y/n).”

You roll your eyes and finally grab a donut from the box. “Yeah.”

Tetsurou chuckles, “Tell me about him. He’s the first guy who makes you look dopey in love.” So you smile and look out the window thinking about the boy who spoke of the little moments and showed you worlds under the sun and feel your heart mellow to a gentle beat, “He’s something good.”

Atsumu’s number doesn’t show up on your phone for the next month, but you try to keep yourself from doing your own research, or as Tetsurou pointed out, stalking, for his presence in social media. If he didn’t want to be found, you’d just leave him to it.

Tetsurou sits across from you at the arrival gate in Haneda airport later that month, scrolling through his phone and mumbling curses because Bokuto, his friend, had told him the wrong time for his arrival and won’t be arriving until a few hours later. Instead of driving back home, wasting gas, and sitting through traffic, you suggest to pass the time at a café instead.

“I swear to god, (y/n), remind me to end my friendship with him the second he lands,” Tetsurou huffs from across you.

“You’re being dramatic again,” You roll your eyes, laughing.

“He’s gonna be here in a bit,” you pause and stand up, grabbing your phone, “I’ll go check the board so stay here.”

“Since you left your wallet here, I’m treating myself to another frapp, thanks (y/n)!” you hear him call from behind you, so you turn to flick him off as you keep walking.

Looking at the board above the gate, your eyes scan to look for information regarding Bokuto’s flight. Under said flight, you smile looking at SIARGAO listed within the board. Briefly, your thought wonders off to Atsumu; you hoped he was doing well.

A flow of people begin to trail out of the gate and into the lobby. Assuming that it must be from Bokuto’s flight, you stand on your tip toes from your little corner to look for the telltale monochromatic palette of his hair.

Grabbing your phone, you hastily press call to Tetsurou’s contact name, to which he answers with a drawled out “Heeelllloo?” along with an exaggerated slurp to the Frappuccino he bought with your card.

You open your mouth to tell him to come over, except that you don’t because standing a few meters in front of you is a familiar blonde.

From the phone in your ear, you hear Tetsurou call your name, so through the haze in your thoughts, you mumble a quick “Never mind.” and hang up. You don’t think Atsumu notices you just yet because he’s pulled his luggage to the side, a little closer to you this time, and pulled out his phone to what you could guess was him texting somebody.

You don’t speak for the first few beats of silence because, holy shit this is fanfiction material—is this actually happening? Eventually he pockets his phone and looks around, before his eyes spots you, who at this point, is still openly gawking at him some distance away.

Then three things happen in succession; first, Atsumu’s eyes widen, second, he blinks really fast, and then finally, third, cracks a smile.

And as soon as his smile pushes the crinkle in his eyes, you feel yourself release the breath you’ve unconsciously held in. He pushes his luggage with him as he walks towards you, hand held up in greeting and the smile still plastered wide on his face.

“Yo,” he says and your heart bursts with your reply that came out a little more breathless than you’d expected, “Hi.”

Tetsurou stands some distance away from the two of you, holding your wallet and his Frappuccino. He spots the blonde mop of head you’re staring at, really you should chill out (he thinks), and immediately recognizes his features as Miya Atsumu, the same guy who’s been a part of your daily margarita selfie for the two months you were in the Philippines.

The bedhead watches you walk towards Atsumu, and he to you before you both met somewhat in the middle, then looks at you, finding himself smile because of how happy you looked. He stands in his spot and can’t help but feel some sort of déjà vu as he stops himself from approaching the two of you. His heart, he realizes, clenches in a way that sort of hurts but sort of doesn’t, but because this is the first time looking at you with a smile so unabashed, he settles with the thought that because he loves you—you deserve nothing short of the happiness you’re feeling now.

And you can’t help but feel the same as Atsumu laughs out a comment about how the universe must really want the two of you together. His arms circle your figure after exchanging a few pleasantries and inside jokes and you smile into the crook of his neck.

“This feels a little like that déjà vu thing ya talked about before, ya know.” He mumbles. And for the brief moment you see Tetsurou’s text on the screen of your phone reading, “whipped.”, you laugh in a way that has you feeling dizzy and light. You feel like you could cry when Atsumu kisses the side of your head, because this moment feels so familiar.

Atsumu feels so familiar. So when you break the embrace and look at the reflection of your watering eyes in the warm pools of his, more than ever, you were sure that this is exactly where the gods meant for you to be.

a/n: *i’m aware there’s no direct flight from haneda/siargao but pls bear w me ;A;

proceed to Epilogue :D

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theultimatecrabcake · 4 years ago

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Some Danganronpa spoilers ahead for the entire franchise so please don't read if you don't want spoilers, serious topics will be discussed

Ok so a while back me and a discord friend had this au-ish idea where the entirety of danganronpa is just Tsumugi's trauma fanfiction based off of people she knows irl and online as a way to cope because she was abused and neglected at home

These are the main details of the au under the cut, there will be no in depth details about the abuse but it is mentioned, I sincerely apologize if I inaccurately portray these issues just in case I did

Tsumugi cosplays at home and that's why she calls herself the ultimate cosplayer, and she makes herself the mastermind because she likes being the villain to cope with her trauma

All the characters from dr1 and sdr2 and the dr3 anime are all based off of people online that she looks up to (or despises in some cases), and characters with alternate versions of themselves are the combinations of their siblings (ex. Toko and Syo are twins and Izuru, Hajime, and super saiyan Hajime are triplets), with the exception of Junko who is an actress who mainly plays villains but irl is really sweet

Monokuma is Tsumugi's homeroom teacher who occasionally lets his sister substitute and the monokubs are his young children that Tsumugi really hates, he's also Junko and Mukuro's uncle and he and Tsumugi have a father-daughter relationship

Junko helps Tsumugi with her cosplays and makeup which is why Tsumugi idolizes her so much and wants to be like her

A lot of the poor writing in dr is due to Tsumugi not having the proper writing experience or knowledge on certain subjects which is why they come off so poorly

The Love Hotel scenes are Tsumugi trying to work through her own sexuality crisis alone (albeit poorly), and her own LH scene is her projecting what she believes is the only relationship she'd ever be loved in even if it's really messed up

All of the blackened and antagonistic characters in dr are people Tsumugi either hates or fears, and those with redeeming motives are the ones Tsumugi fears but recognizes that they are good people

Most characters in dr are cosplayers irl, streamers/youtubers, or social media influencers, aside from in v3 where everyone is a classmate of hers

The survivors of v3 are Tsumugi's irl friends, and the survivors of the prior games just came down to process of elimination mixed with who she liked

Her insistence of being "plain" in the games is because her parents always called her useless, and a part of the reason she hates Monokuma's kids is because she envies them for having the happy childhood she never had

She made monokuma the mascot because he’s known for his brutal punishments to kids who severely break school rules

All of the backstories for the dr1 and sdr2 characters are based off of one of the following: their main cosplay, their favorite game that they’ve played, or their aesthetic on their main social media account

Tsumugi works a lot of part time jobs to pay for her cosplays and her clothes and food

At some point Tsumugi posted her trauma/vent fanfics online under a different pen name and renaming all of the characters so they couldn’t be tracked (each of the games and the anime were posted as their separate fanfics and each chapter in the games is a chapter in the fanfic) and the fanfic blew up super fast, which she didn’t expect, and then people started cosplaying it for the irony and when she’s asked about if she’ll cosplay from it she says she’s not in it for the irony, she also got jaw-dropped when the cosplayers she turned into some of the characters from dr1 and sdr2 started cosplaying from it

One time Kokichi found her fanfic for v3 and commented about how his character seemed super familiar and she responded “no reason :)” and blocked him because his username was super obvious, he soon makes confused posts about it on tiktok

Eventually during Tsumugi’s 3rd year she reposted all of the fanfics but with much better writing and character arcs because she took online writing classes and the internet BLEW UP EVEN HARDER and so many people geeked out over it

Eventually Tsumugi tells her close friends about how she wrote the fics but it accidentally gets out to the whole class and when anyone tries to bully her about it all of her friends fight the bullies

The Love Hotel scenes were completely separate fanfics she impulsively wrote and posted at 3am when her sexuality crisis hit too hard, even she hates them and deleted them a year after they were posted because she just can’t believe she wrote them, let alone post them, and never rewrote them

The following are her relationships with the characters in V3 since she has no real relationships with the characters in dr1 and sdr2

All of the character’s ultimates are in fact based on actual skills they each have, and if they don’t have a distinct skill Tsumugi deep dives and tries to think of one, Junko was mostly inspired by her ability to analyze super well, which helped with her makeup ability, and because she played villain characters who caused despair

Edit: forgot to mention, but when Tsumugi kills her self insert at the end of v3, it's her essentially venting out how if all the important people in her life leave her she has nothing to live for anymore

Shuichi: They met after being some of the few kids in class who had nowhere to sit during lunch so they sat next to each other, after talking some more and realizing they had a lot in common, they became really close and he would sometimes cosplay with her, he also has a crush on Kaede even though it’s only from afar due to his social anxiety, Tsumugi however feels as though she’s a burden to him which is why she has him hate her in the last trial, when she told him she wrote the fanfic he constantly reassured her that she’s not a burden and was super embarrassed that he was made the protag after kaede, though he did find pregame him a bit odd

Himiko: Himiko is also an outsider due to her depression and general tired personality, she’s one of the few people who don’t judge Tsumugi for her cosplaying and anime interests and they’re both in anime club and will occasionally cosplay together, she was the one who accidentally let it slip about the fanfic thing but Tsumugi couldn’t bring herself to be mad

Maki: Another outsider but on purpose, she met Tsumugi after she found Tsumugi getting bullied and pushed around by some older kids, and afterwards she hung around Tsumugi to protect her and they eventually got pretty close even though Maki is generally socially dead, she also helps get Tsumugi food when Tsumugi’s parents are too neglectful to feed her, she also is the main protector of Tsumugi from her bullies, before and after the fic

Kiibo: An exchange student from being homeschooled, he and Tsumugi used to be pretty close, he was pretty famous on social media so sometimes they would go and do influencer stuff together and he’d cosplay with her, eventually he started dating Miu and they got a bit more distant due to Tsumugi not being a big fan of Miu, but they have no harsh feelings towards each other, even though Tsumugi thinks he hates her, he’s also a top student, he was a little weirded out by how both he and Miu were portrayed in the original fic but after talking it out with Tsumugi he let it slide and they talk more often because of that

Kaede: She met Kaede in secondary school and they got fairly close up until Kaede met Rantaro, after they met Kaede started hanging out with him more (romantic or platonic is up for interpretation) and Tsumugi was really hurt and jealous which is why she has Kaede kill Rantaro, she and Tsumugi reignited a relationship after the fanfic thing came out because she was super concerned about how Tsumugi was doing since you don’t just write that stuff without having some sort of trauma, they became closer afterwards and told Tsumugi she was flattered she was made into such a nice girl but also kinda freaked out that Tsumugi technically killed her but they also talked that out, she didn’t hold pregame Kaede against her because Kaede did in fact act like that when she was younger

Rantaro: Him and Tsumugi knew each other in middle school but didn’t like each other, she envied him because of how easy of a time he had making friends, and later on hated him for “stealing” Kaede from her, he is on ok terms with Tsumugi after the fanfic incident because Kaede and Tsumugi reignited a friendship and they tolerate each other

Kirumi: Tsumugi fears and looks up to Kirumi, as Kirumi is head of the student council and class rep but also very strict, one time Tsumugi got pushed down before school and was forced to come with a dirty uniform and Kirumi ripped into her for it and made her cry (although Kirumi quickly apologized and tried to comfort her but the trauma already set in), after she learned about the fic she talked to Tsumugi and gave her a singular pass for it because she did a fairly good job capturing Kirumi’s determination and sophistication

Ryoma: She’s never talked to Ryoma personally but she knows he has a criminal record for some minor crime and that scares her alongside how he one time suplexed a student three times his size after the student tried to pick on him for being short

Korekiyo: He freaks her out and she really hates his sister, and one time he psychoanalyzed her and it hit way too close to home so now she both doesn’t like him and respects him, which is why she just has his sister be the motive/his abuser because she full on just hates her cause she’s a “normie” who made fun of her one time in public, after he learned about the fic he tried to talk to her about the original version of the v3 fic to talk it through because he knew about her issues and now they’re on good terms

Angie: Funny enough she just is way too afraid to talk to Angie because she is a foreign exchange student and Tsumugi was really confused by her religion which is why it’s handled so poorly and why Angie is so focused on Atua, Angie also is super confident in herself and extroverted and that intimidated Tsumugi so much she just never talked to her, after the fic Angie sat her down and educated her on the details of her religion so Tsumugi could fix any accidental misconceptions about the religion and culture

Tenko: With Tsumugi’s constant sexuality crisis, she also has internalized homophobia which is why Tenko, an open women lover, scares her so much, Tsumugi can’t comprehend it so she made Tenko really creepy and oddly violent towards men even though the actual Tenko only beats up men who harass her or other women and not just every single man, she’s also really nice to Himiko and because Tsumugi fears Tenko she warped it

Miu: Miu is also a woman confident in her sexuality, she just comes off a lot more strongly than Tenko and is even more intimidating to Tsumugi, Tsumugi also thinks she’s gross because she’s open about her kinks and her gross ways of making sure she’s healthy, after she and Kiibo started dating she started to resent Miu, but regardless of this she still acknowledges that Miu is a top student, she only really likes Miu because she and Kokichi hate each other, but after it got out that Tsumugi wrote the fic Miu tried to pick on her but Maki scared her off

Gonta: She really loves Gonta and at some point had a crush on him, but he turned her down after Kokichi spread rumors that she was afraid of bugs and Gonta didn’t want to freak her out due to the fact he lives in an area full of bugs and has a few pet bugs, she has no harsh feelings towards him however and still likes him, though not as a crush, Gonta was still super nice to her after the fic thing and doesn’t think any less of her

Kokichi: She absolutely despises him and everything he does, they’ve known each other since they were kids and he’s always picked on her, though to him he’s only friendly teasing and thinks they have a friendly rivalry, he does everything out of childish amusement and doesn’t actually think he’s doing any harm to her even though she actively hates him and has gotten punched on several occasions by Maki for teasing Tsumugi too much, he also is purposely controversial online and has tried to be cancelled way too many times but somehow finds a way to find dirt on the people cancelling him and now everyone is too scared to cancel him, he also “bullies” cosplayers on tiktok by dueting them and mocking them but to him it’s ironic but to everyone else it isn’t, he has done this to Tsumugi on multiple occasions and she hates it, he tried to tease her about writing the fic and blocking him but Maki punches him in the throat, he makes a tiktok about that as well but keeps her identity a secret

Kaito: He became Maki’s boyfriend sometime after she met Maki and, in his stupidity, accidentally insulted Tsumugi’s comfort cosplay and she hated him after that, his death and illness was inspired by the one time he got the flu and gave it to everyone and it ruined one of her wigs, after a while they began talking more and she began to realize he wasn’t a jerk, just really stupid, so she made him a nicer character, after it got out that she wrote the fanfics she asked if he was mad he died but instead he was like “nah man that was a super cool way to go”, he was confused on pregame Kaito until Tsumugi explained that that’s how she used to see him

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Take it Slow - Part Eighty-One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff and smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Harry woke up by himself the next morning. He had to remember where he was, and that he couldn’t just go down the stairs in his boxers. Well he probably could, but he didn’t wanna hear the girls hooting and hollering. He throws a graphic T and workout shorts on. When he opens the door he smells eggs, bacon, and toast..and hears a lot of giggling. It was only 8:30, how fucking early did they get up. He sees Niall in the hallway.

“How fuckin’ early did they get up?”

“Sarah got out of bed at 3AM, I think they watched a movie downstairs.”

“I didn’t even hear Y/N get up…”

The boys go downstairs. There were mimosas in flutes ready to go, and a ton of food. You smile at Harry. You had a long t-shirt on and some spandex shorts. You grab a mimosa and hand it to him.

“Morning! I made you some vegan sausages and there’s toast too. Here, mimosas are perfect for hangovers, oh! I made hashbrowns too.”

“Uh, thanks sweetie.” He takes a sip. “I didn’t hear you get up last night.”

“Yeah, I passed out for a few hours and then I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep so I went downstairs, and Sarah was already down there and then Rachel came down so we just hung out and then we went to the store the second it opened.”

Harry and Niall make plates. Mariah was already sitting at the table, sipping on some coffee.

“Did you go to the store with them?” Harry asks.

“No, I woke up just as confused as you did. I came down to make coffee and they come rushing in with so much fucking food.”

You and the girls sit down.

“So, we’re doin’ the beach today?” Niall asks.

“Yup! And we already packed up all our lunches and everything else we could need. Just need to change into swimsuits.” Sarah says.

“How…how are you all functioning?”

“Three words.” Rachel says. “Boot and rally.” Harry looks at you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You got sick?”

“No…well, only once, but I was fine after. I actually felt a lot better after. Drank a bunch of water.”

“How did we not hear you all pukin’?” Niall asks.

“Can we not talk about puke, please?” Mariah asks.

You all laugh and continue eating. You leave the boys to clean up since you all cooked. You were just picking your bathing suit out when Harry comes into the room. He comes up from behind you to hug you.

“I didn’t get to return the favor last night.” He whispers in your ear and you smile. You turn around to face him. “That was also one hell of a blow job.”

“Oh, yeah? You liked that?”

“Loved it.” He kisses you. Just as he’s about to take your shirt off you hear Rachel scream from down the hall.

“What the….” You run to the door and open in it. You see Rachel on the floor laughing and you run to her. “What happened?!” You look to where she’s pointing and start laughing too. Harry runs down the hall and looks at Mariah, then into Sarah and Niall’s room.

“I’ve never seen a whiter ass in my life! You better make sure he puts some sunscreen on!” Rachel laughs harder.

“Now who were you saying couldn’t keep their hands off each other? All the doors lock you idiot!”

“Stop it! Can you all please, just stop!” Sarah had tugged her robe on, and Niall was wrapped in a blanket, also laughing. “What were you even doing just walking into our room?!”

“You have my cover up!”

“You could have knocked!”

“Oi! Let’s move on, clearly they wanna get it on before we go to the beach, I saw we let them. You dirty little animals!”

Sarah groans loudly and slams the door shut, everyone hears her lock it. You help Rachel up off the ground.

“The whitest ass I’ve ever seen.” She mouths to you and you giggle.

“It’s that Irish skin, love.” Harry winks at her and leads you back down the hall to your room.

“I am so glad our room is farther away. Least now she knows what it’s like.”

“Yup, so let’s lock our door, and-“

“Get dressed? Yeah, I was thinking the same thing.”

“Oh, come on, I was just about to-“

“The moment has passed, I’m sorry baby.”

You grab your bathing suit and go into the bathroom to change and do your hair. Harry silently screams and then calms down and grabs his yellow trunks to change into. You come out in a strapless black top, and a high waisted black bottom.

“Jesus.”

“Could you actually tie the back tighter for me? I feel like I’m gonna fall out of this thing.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He unties the flimsy knot you made and ties at it, make it nice and tight. Then he ties it into a nice bow.

“Thanks sweetie.” You grab your blue coverup dress and throw it on. You bend over and put your hair into a ponytail. You feel a smack to your ass and you stand up after putting your hair up. You turn to look at Harry. “You really wanna play that game with me right now?”

“If you’re gonna deprive me, yeah.”

“Deprive you!” You laugh, and there’s a knock at the door. You open it and see Rachel and Mariah.

“You guys ready? Sarah’s in the car already.” Rachel says.

“She’s psychotic.” You laugh. “Come on, Harry.”

You all cram into Sarah’s car. Harry pulls you onto his lap, and off you go to the beach. It was a beautiful day out, not a cloud in the sky. When you get out of the car you fix your hair so it’s up in a bun. You all find a spot away from the more crowded areas, and spread out. You spread out a large towel and so do the girls. Harry and Niall both brought chairs to sit in. Niall sets an umbrella up to put the coolers under. You take your cover up off.

“Oh, Y/N! What a cute two piece.” Rachel says to you.

“Thanks! I got it to wear in Aruba since my ass is a little more covered, you know?”

Mariah had a cute, teal one piece on with a little cute out on the upper stomach. Rachel was in a pink two piece, and Sarah was wearing a floral, strapless two piece.

“Okay, let’s pictures before we all get sweaty and gross.” Sarah says.

“Good idea.” You say. “Let’s go down near the water.”

“Do you want me to take pictures for you?” Mariah asks.

“That’d be great, babe!” Rachel kisses her on the cheek and the four go down towards the water.

Harry and Niall continue setting up, but they can’t help but look at their girlfriends.

“Look at them pose.” Niall chuckles.

You all take silly photos. The three of you turn around and look over your shoulders and pout towards the camera. You all looked cute with your sunglasses on. You jump onto Rachel’s back and Mariah gets a great shot of Sarah laughing at the two of you. The three of you come back up, and you sit on Harry’s lap.

“So cute.” Mariah takes your picture with him.

“Would you put some sunscreen on my back?” Harry asks.

“Mhm.”

You both stand up and you spray the lotion on him, rubbing it in good to his shoulders and the back of his neck.

“I think I’m gonna lay on my stomach for a bit.” You say.

“Oh, me too. Do that for a little while then we’ll be hot enough to go for a swim.” Sarah says.

The three of you all lay on your stomachs on your towels, and the three of you reach simultaneously for the ties on your suits.

“Woah! What are yeh doin’?” Niall asks. You turn to look at him, and dip your sunglasses so you can really make eye contact.

“Do you know how annoying these tan lines would be, everybody does this.” You look over at Harry. “Could you get my back for me please?”

He swallows hard. He truly thinks the three of you are crazy to so easily expose yourselves. One wrong move and a boob could pop out. But the three of you clearly didn’t care. He looks over at Mariah who was already rubbing lotion on Rachel, and Niall was doing the same for Sarah. He decides that if you’re going to torture him like this, he may as well have some fun. He takes a seat on your bum and you gasp.

“You’re too heavy!”

“Am not, relax.” He sprays the lotion in his hands and works it up and down your back. He’d feel terrible if you burned, even if you did seem to have a decent tan already. “Want me to get the backs of your legs too.”

“Yes please.”

He does so and gets off of you.

“Come lay next to me for a bit.” You smile at him and he gets on his stomach next to you.

Your eyes feel droopy and you slowly start to drift off. Harry eventually gets up to sit in his chair. He grabs his glasses and takes his book out. You wake up to the feeling of more sunscreen being sprayed on your back.

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you…” Harry says.

“That’s okay.” You grab your top and sit up.

“Jesus, Y/N!”

“I’m covered, relax. Can you tie me up please?” Harry kneels behind you and ties your top back up. “Thank you.” You look over and see Rachel and Sarah still asleep. “Wanna go into the water, baby?”

“Yeah.” He smiles and helps you up. You walk hand in hand down to the water. “Are you having fun so far?”

“Mhm, lots.” You dip your toe in. “Wow, it’s actually warm.” You look up at him. “Please don’t throw me in again, I don’t wanna wash my hair later.”

“Alright.”

You both wade into the water and get about hip deep. Harry dives in and gets his hair all wet. You giggle when he comes back up and you run your hand through it. He pulls you close and down slightly so you’ll swim with him.

“Oh, Niall, grab Harry’s phone, take a picture of them.” Mariah says.

“Good idea.” He takes a couple snaps of you two in the water.

You wrap your arms and legs around Harry and he carries you in just a little deeper. You put your sunglasses on the top of your head and kiss him. You tug at his hair slightly and his tongue enters your mouth. You moan quietly against him. You let go and look around, there weren’t any people around you.

“Do you think anyone would see…if…” You start blushing, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“If we what, angel?” He kisses on your neck.

“If we, if you just…stick it in.” You look up at him.

“You want have sex in the water?”

“Where else can we sneak off to? I’m certainly not fucking you in the bathroom, that’s gross, and I think Sarah would kill me if fucked in her car, and I…I want you.”

“Alright, I’ll, uh, I’ll just finger you, yeah?”

“Okay.”

He goes in just a little deeper to make sure most of your bodies were covered. He holds you close with one arm and you cling to him will his other hand moves your bathing suit bottom to the side. He brushes over you at first, but doesn’t waste time being cute. Two fingers are being pushed inside you before you know it. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, and grab at his hair.

“Where are Harry and Y/N?” Rachel asks with a yawn.

“They went for a dip.” Niall points. Sarah gets up and sits in his lap. He ties up the back of her suit for her.

“What are they doing?” Sarah asks, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

Niall squints and then his eyes grow wide.

“Uhhh, just looks like they’re uh havin’ a quick snog.”

“Snog?” Sarah laughs.

“Probably didn’t wanna, um, makeout right in front of us.”

Niall had an idea that more was going on, but didn’t want to draw attention to it.

“Harry.” You whisper into his ear.

“Doin’ so good bein’ quiet.” He says as his fingers curl up inside you.

“I need you to kiss me.” You groan.

You move your face to his and your lips slot over his. He knew you were close. You were tightening and pulsating around him. His thumb rubs over your clit and you gasp.

“Shhh, come back to me.” Your lips find his again and you bite down on his bottom lip to stifle yourself.

He pumps in and out of you faster, and your legs tighten around his waist. You tug harshly at his hair, and then your body goes slack. Waves of pleasure coming over you. Harry holds you up, and slowly retracts his fingers from you. You rest your head against his chest as you catch your breath. You drop your legs from his waist and look up at him. He cups your cheeks and kisses you tenderly.

“What can I do for you?” You say against his lips.

“Just need a sec, I’ll be alright.” You giggle as he swims around trying to get rid of his boner.

You swim around a bit yourself and you both work your way back towards the shore. Your friends were starting to sip on drinks and eat snacks when you get back to your spot.

“Here’s Y/N.” Sarah tosses you a hard seltzer.

“Thanks!” You crack it open and slide your sunglasses back down. Harry sits in his chair and pulls you to sit on him.

“You two have fun in the water?” Niall asks.

“Mhm.” You say sipping your drink. “Water feels great, actually. You all should go for a swim.”

After chilling for a bit, and listening to music you feel a little bored.

“Rach, do you wanna go in the water and toss the tennis ball around with me?”

“Yeah!”

You give Harry a kiss on the cheek and walk down to the water with Rachel. Harry settles back in with his glasses and book.

“Harry, I have to say, you look so adorable with your glasses.” Sarah says.

“Thanks.” He chuckles.

“You don’t wear them often.”

“Just need ‘em for readin’ like Niall does.”

“Babe.” She says to Niall. “I’m gonna go play catch with them.”

“Alright.” He smiles and puckers his lips, and she kisses him. The three watch you all toss the tennis ball around. “This is like way more chill than I thought would be, it’s great.”

“Yeah, I thought they’d be hammered.” Harry says.

“That’ll happen tonight I’m sure.” Mariah says.

You all come back up for lunch. You hand Harry a lettuce wrap, and sit on your towel.

“So when is your actual birthday, Y/N?” Mariah asks.

“Sunday.” Harry says, and you smile at him.

“So we’ll go to an actual club tomorrow night.” You explain.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Niall asks. You look at Rachel and Sarah.

“Well, we have some stuff planned. There’s a carnival along the peer. Thought after dinner we could pregame a little, and then check out some of the rides and stuff.” Sarah says.

“Oh that sounds like fun! Then we can get that fire pit up and running after get back.” You say.

“Then Sunday we were thinking of taking the ferry to the Vineyard.” Rachel says.

“Yes! We can go to that ice cream place, and that house with all the Betty Boop stuff out front.”

“And Sunday night we’ll go out for a nice dinner.” Sarah says.

“Wow, you guys really got it all figured out.” Niall smirks.

“Oh, we don’t fuck around when it comes to birthdays.” Rachel says.

As the afternoon sun gets stronger, you go back and forth between water and hard seltzer. You were itching to actually have sex with Harry. Around 4PM you all pack everything up and get into the car.

“Think I’m gonna shower when we back.” You announce. “What are we doing for dinner?”

“Niall, wanna get the grill goin’?” Harry asks.

“Sure! We can do a little BBQ.”

You all get into the house. Everyone wanted to get out of their bathing suits, so Harry followed you upstairs. You close your door and lock it behind you. He helps you untie the knot on your swim suit and you sigh with relief.

“Shit, you got a little pink, babe.”

You look down at yourself and see the small patches.

“It’s alright, it’ll fade. Besides, you can just rub some aloe on me.” You wink. You bite your bottom. “Wanna hop in the shower with me?”

“Yes.”

He follows you in, and you turn the water on. You get the rest of your suit off and so does he. You both giggle as you get in. He was pressed right against you.

“Tight squeeze, yeah?” He chuckles.

“Just a little. We might need to get creative. Do you have room to lift me?”

“Let’s find out.”

Rachel was in the bathroom attached to her room, washing her face off when she heard something. She didn’t think much of it until she heard it again.

“Oh my god, Mariah.” She says giggle. Mariah was just getting into a t-shirt and shorts.

“Yeah?”

“Come here and tell me if you’re hearing what I’m hearing.”

Mariah smirks and comes into the bathroom.

“Fuck, Harry.” You moan.

Harry had lifted you, and gotten your legs hooked under his arms. He was getting in so deep. He lets one of your legs drop and you pout. He puts a hand over your mouth to signal you needed to be a little quieter. He keeps it there as you moan out again. You try to say something so he takes his hand away.

“Please, wrap your hand around my throat, need it.”

Everything was muffled, but Mariah heard it. Her jaw drops and she looks at Rachel. They quietly leave the bathroom and start laughing.

“They’re wild.” Rachel says.

“Jesus, I thought they got enough in the water.”

“What do you mean?”

“When they were swimming earlier, he for sure was diddling her, why do you think they were wrapped up so close?”

“Damn, good for them.”

“Come on, let’s see if Niall needs some help with the grill.” She kisses Rachel quick and they head downstairs.

Harry had his hand around your throat as you requested, not as hard as you would have liked, but he didn’t want to leave any new marks. He didn’t want anyone giving you a tough time this weekend. He gives you another squeeze and then he lets go of you, bringing his hand down to rub your clit. Your head rolls back against the tile. Your nails dig into his shoulders and you release. His comes shortly after, long overdue. He fills you up, and then watches it drip out of you.

“I hate when you watch.” You whine.

“Can’t help it. Pass me the bodywash.”

You both finish up and get out. You pick out a pair of shorts, a tank top, and a cardigan.

“Babe, if you grab your brush and some elastics, I’ll braid yeh hair downstairs.”

“Really?!” You squeal and grab your things. You loved when Harry did your hair.

You both head downstairs. Niall and Sarah were outside with the grill while Mariah and Rachel were preparing a salad. Harry sits on the couch and you sit in front of him on the floor. He takes your hair out of your bun and runs his hands through your hair.

“How do yeh want it?”

Rachel nearly chokes on her drink when she hears him ask you the question.

“Are you okay?” You say to her.

“Yeah, um, what are you guys doing?”

“Harry’s gonna braid my hair.” You smile. “He’s really good at it.”

“How do you know how to braid hair?”

“My hair used to be, like, really long, so I just learned.” He shrugs.

You roll your head back to look at him. He raises his eyebrows at you, still waiting for an answer.

“Could you do a big one down the middle and then put it up into a pony?”

“Yup.” He kisses your forehead and you face forward again.

You close your eyes as his fingers rake through your hair and starts his work.

“This I have to see.” Rachel comes over and sits next to Harry, and watches his fingers move with intricacy.

“Oi! Do you two want veggie burgers?” Niall shouts.

“Yes please!” You shout back.

Harry finishes your hair, and taps you on the shoulders.

“How’s it look?” You ask Rachel.

“Really good! Nice work, Harry.”

“What can I say? I have a gift.”

You kiss him on the cheek. You all head outside to eat dinner. The house had a nice patio and large glass table to fit everyone. Sarah had set everything up buffet style. You make up a plate for Harry and kiss him on the top of his head as you set it down in front of him. You all enjoy fun conversations and tell jokes while you eat.

Once dinner is cleaned up, the blender is broken out for frozen margaritas. Someone puts music on and you all are just being goofy having a good time. You change into a pair of jeans and some sneakers before you walk out to go to the carnival. The peer was only a short distance from the house. Harry keeps an arm hooked around your waist as you walk. You all get wrist bands so you don’t have to worry about tickets.

“Okay, I’m telling you now, I do not like roller coasters, so I won’t be doing any of the crazy rides.” You tell Harry. He laughs and nods his head.

“So are we splitting up, staying together, what’s the game plan?” Mariah asks.

“Let’s stay together.” You say. “We’re in even number so all the rides we agree on should work out.”

You all head towards the tilta whirl first. You white knuckle the bar as the ride starts to move forward. Harry throws an arm around your shoulders. The ride goes faster and you start screaming. You look up at Harry and your screams turn into laughter. He’s laughing too. The rides slows and you catch your breath, but you remember it goes backwards just as fast.

“Holy shit!” You scream, laugh.

The rides ends and you all get off. You and the girls take some selfies, and you take one with Harry.

“Y/N, take one with Niall.” Sarah says.

You and Niall press back to back and cross your arms, looking oh so cool. You giggle at each other and he hugs you, Sarah snapping another cute picture. You go on another couple of rides, and let the boys go on some of the more vigorous ones. Eventually you all start walking around to where you can win prizes. You do a ring toss, but don’t win. Harry plays the bottle game and manages to knock them down, winning you a teddy bear.

“Oh my god!” You squeal and wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss him on the cheek and take the bear.

You and the girls split some fried dough before heading back to the house. Niall and Harry get the fire going while Mariah finds some blankets, and you and the girls get the chairs set up.

Rachel and Mariah sit in a wicker love-seat, and snuggle up under a blanket. Harry pulls you into his lap and Sarah sits on Niall’s.

“This was the perfect day.” You say, nestling in further to Harry. He was practically cradling you.

You were all sipping on beers, just shooting the shit. The conversation had turned a little more serious, but in a good way. Rachel was talking about how her parents were going to move to Florida soon.

“They’re leaving in November, can you believe that? Right before Thanksgiving. They said I could come down for the holidays, as if plane tickets don’t cost an arm and a leg.” She sighs. “I’m happy for them…my brother and I don’t exactly need them close by anymore, but now we have to like pack up our childhood home, it sucks.” Mariah squeezes her shoulder.

“Do you need any help? We can be there for you.” You say.

“Thanks, that’s sweet. I’m gonna take some time at the end of the month to go there, I’ll let you guys know.”

A few beers later, and Niall goes inside to use the bathroom. Harry needed to pee too, so you let him get up to go. Sarah couldn’t contain herself anymore.

“Okay, so do you guys wanna know why Niall and I got busy this morning?” She grins.

“Yes!” You say. “Spill.”

“He invited me to go to Ireland with him at the end of the month!”

You all squeal, even Mariah joins in.

“That’s amazing!” Rachel exclaims. “He just asked you this morning, out of the blue?”

“He said he wanted to ask me sooner, but he wanted to make it special, and then he was like what am I even freaking out about, and then…this morning…he just put two plane tickets on the bed…that he made himself, cause obviously you can’t print the boarding passes.”

“Wait, so he had already gotten everything together?” You ask.

“Yes! It was so romantic, and then fucking Rachel ruined it!” She laughs.

“Lock the fucking door tonight then, bitch!”

“What are yeh all yellin’ about out here?” Niall asks, coming back out with more drinks and Harry. You move so you can continues sitting in his lap.

“You, you little softy.” You say.

“What did I do? Oh!” He looks at Sarah, and holds her a little tighter. “You told them?”

“Mhm.” She kisses him.

This was a big deal for Niall. He had never brought a girl home before, not like this anyways. He loved Sarah, and she loved him. He also planned to ask her to move in with him soon, but that will come later.

“You’re gonna love Niall’s mum and brothers, they’re awesome.” Harry says.

“I’m really excited! I went to Ireland in high school on a class trip, and have always wanted to go back.” She looks at him. “This’ll be much more special though.”

You’re exhausted by the time you head up to bed. You flop onto your back and sigh.

“Can’t sleep in your clothes love.”

“But I’m too lazy to take them off.”

Harry grabs you by the ankles and brings you closer to the edge of the bed. You giggle as he undoes your jeans and drags them down your legs. You kick them off and he tugs at your panties.

“You better not fall asleep on me tonight.” He smirks as you lift your hips to help him get your underwear off.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. I’ll be your good girl.” You giggle.

Both of his eyebrows raise. “How drunk are you?”

“Only a little.” You prop up on your elbows and open your legs for him. “Come on baby.” You pout. “Know you want a taste.”

Harry licks his lips. He loves when you’re like this. You move back on the bed so he can get on too. He kisses from your knee to your inner thigh. His thumb brushes over one of the mark he left from the other day. He sucks on a spot right next to it. He had gotten really into leaving love bites on your inner thighs for some reason. For the most part, they were easier to hide. Harry had always liked leaving marks out in the open for anyone to see, but lately it really turned him on to leave marks where only he’d be able to see them.

You gasp when you feel the skin break, and he licks over it to soothe you. He swipes a stripe up your center without warning. He does this a few times, looking up at you, you looking right back at him. His eyes flutter closed when his tongue goes up inside you, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit. You tug at his hair and he groans against you.

“Don’t, don’t come in your pants, I’m gonna want that.”

He gives you a thumbs up as his lips wrap around your clit and two of his fingers are plunging inside you. You gasp as your head rolls back into the pillow.

“Bite down on somethin’.” He says against you, still driving his fingers in and out.

“No, don’t wanna.”

“I don’t want them to hear you.”

“Harry, I don’t wanna be-“

He yanks his fingers out of you and gives you a stern look.

“Now, it’s your birthday weekend, so I really wanna be nice and sweet to you, but I can’t do that if you don’t listen to me.” Your cheeks flush. You can’t remember the last time he was so…dominant with you. Daddy was in town, not that you would ever fucking say that to him. “I won’t let you come if you don’t do as I say.” You swear you felt your pussy throb. “We clear?”

“Yes.”

He smiles at you and you place your forearm over your mouth. He inserts his fingers back into you. He was knuckle deep and hitting just where you needed him to. You clasp both hands over your mouth and your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your chest was heaving, and you watch Harry sucks his fingers into his mouth. You sit up and take your shirt off, along with your bra. Harry takes all of his clothes off and hovers over you.

He kisses you deeply while you line him up with yourself. He pushes in and you both groan. You felt like you had been fucking all day…probably because technically you had. Harry gives you a good thrust and the bed makes a sound against the wall. You both ignore it until it happens a few more times.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.” He sighs. “It’s too loud.” He looks at you.

“Floor.”

“What?”

“Fuck me on the floor, or push me up against the wall, or I don’t give a fuck.”

He pulls out of you and throws a blanket on the floor. He didn’t want to hurt your back. You lay down and tug him to the floor. He thrusts back inside of you.

“Are you comfortable like this? You could ride me instead…”

“No, actually, it’s fine.” You smile warmly. “It’s like when we were in that field in the countryside…” Harry’s cock twitches and he starts rocking in and out of you. “Ngh, I had never done anything like that before, it was so spontaneous.”

“We could have, fuck, easily just gone into the car too.” He plants wet kisses on your neck as you wrap your legs around him.

“But we were having such a nice picnic…”

“And you were wearing that light blue dress with the buttons down the front.” He kisses you and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth.

The hand not propping himself up kneads one of your breasts and you moan out.

“You got those buttons open so fast.”

“Yeah, I did.” He smirks. “You took it so well that day too, you really let me give it to you.” He gives you a sharp thrust and you bite into his shoulder.

“We could be as loud as we wanted that day.”

He sits up and throws your legs over his shoulders. Now he just wasn’t playing fair, but so could you. You knew how to be quiet, you knew how to turn it off. The only sound filling the room was his skin slapping against yours. You were making really intense eye contact. He was actually surprised at how cool your composure was. You grin at him deviously and clench around him.

“Jesus, shit.” He groans.

“Gotta be quiet baby.” You say mockingly.

He leans in and wraps his hand around your throat, you reach up and do the same to him. You were equally matched at the moment. You rock your hips along with his and you both just fucking lose it. Your orgasm floods over you and he fills you to the brim. He pulls out and sticks his middle finger right in. He pulls it from you and you open your mouth to suck on. Your eyes close as your tongue laps around it.

Harry helps you up off the floor and you both go do your nightly routines in the bathroom. You throw one of his t-shirts on, and get into bed with him. You both face each other and get your legs nice and tangled up. He rubs your back and pulls you closer to him. You kiss him and turn over so he can spoon you. You both fall asleep in minutes.

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #fluff #smut #another longish one!#beach day baby!!!

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imanes · 3 years ago

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this is so weird but i also read the farseer trilogies when i was like 12/13 and felt weirdly scarred by them cause i felt i was way too young to read them!! i never ended up finishing robin hobbs last trilogy she wrote a few years back bc i wanted to to do a reread but never got around to it.

omg i love the parallel of our existences and relationship with these books. if that makes u feel any better my sister read them when she was in her late teens/early 20s and she was also very much in a constant state of emotional turmoil bc of the books aljdldgfjd robin hobb was like "i will leave a deep mark in everyone's soul" and then she did that. it's like when you care about something so much that it consumes you and anything tragic that happens feels like a personal attack... when (redacted) died in the second trilogy i was bawling at 3am in my room like i felt like i had actually lost someone myself bc of my grief for a made-up character T^T. i hope we both get to enjoy these books as older people now! i got the collector's editions with illustrations from magali villeneuve and they are so gorgeous and the scenes and characters are so beautifully rendered that it gives me the intense urge to dive into them even tho i'm scared and scarred... just letting u know they exist in case u want to look into them! have u read the other spin-off series in the realm of the elderlings like ship of magic and stuff? i have to admit i was so engrossed by fitz and the fool's stories that i just full-on skipped anything that did not include them lmao. also same i'm still gearing up for the final trilogy, u know i don't think we'll ever be ready but also if i die before i get to them i'll come back to life just to slap myself and then die again lmao

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spnfanficpond · 5 years ago

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March Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE MARCH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @wingedcatninja

Static (series) by @peridottea91

peridottea91 is going to single-handedly convert me to like series. I just re-read this gem and had to share it. In another life, she could have been a writer on the show, she’s so good at getting the characterization right for our boys. This OC, too, is an intiguing, layered personality that adds an extra dimension of mystery. And the whole story is perfectly woven in with canon. Two thumbs up. A must read.

Wish (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

It’s just a drabble, but it made me feel so many things in so few words. I don’t even know what to say about it, other than it’s brilliant and if you love Dean Winchester, you have to read it.

Bad Medicine (oneshot) by @deanwandamons

This was lovely, and hot, and it made me giggle.

Nominated by @risingphoenix761

Because You’re Worth It (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

I love a good crack fic, and I love some good Samwena content, so this is right up my alley. And a great mix of funny and fluffy!

Kings Don’t Kneel (oneshot) by @slytherkins

Few things in fic give me as much joy as Tara writing Crowley, and she hits all my favorite spots in under a thousand words. Struggling with emotion is hard enough for an unfeeling demon, but grief and loss–and the pain of knowing those emotions are unacknowledged��are enough to bring anyone to their knees. Beautiful and succinct, and all the angst!

Nominated by @peridottea91

Heaven (oneshot) by @evansrogerskitten

This fic is so beautifully written and just really captures Dean’s personality while still smacking you in the face with the most amazing “and then I saw her” moment!! Best still my heart!!! And the whole SamxEileen subplot!! The whole fic is just *chef’s kiss*

Nominated by @impala-dreamer

The Sun (oneshot) by @crashdevlin

It’s just amazingly beautiful. Short, sweet, and full of wonderful emotion. I loved every single word.

Nominated by anonymous

Dive In With Me (oneshot) by @sp-oops

This was a gorgeous, genuine account of the reader and Sam finally, FINALLY crossing that hurtle.

Coming Home (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

Lou builds us a story with such detail and precise ache that we forget to breathe. She teaches Dean, repeatedly, that he deserves to be happy.

Shackled (series) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

Val started her Demon!Dean x OFC series like a building storm. Miriam Bard is a fellow hunter, another older sibling with more internal demons than she cares to name. Sam calls her in on an old favor. Before long she doesn’t know if anything is real or who she can trust. Dark fic, so good!

Shattered Breaths (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

Nicole dove deep for this kink bingo fill, and it is well worth every word. See how the Omega reader learns to trust the Winchesters and just what it takes for them to give up protecting themselves and lean into possibility.

Nominated by @the-girl-who-runs-with-winchesters

Devil May Care (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

This was such an interesting plot idea and amazing storytelling. Not that I had expected anything less from this talented author, of course.

Rough Ride (oneshot) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

A fun quick and very heated oneshot that made me smile at the end :)

All About Lovin’ You (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons

You know me, I can never let a month pass without diving into some angst, nor can I resist praising a fellow guppy for their amazing work. And this one’s got both! I got sucked in right from the start. It goes from heartbreaking to heartwarming, and from hot right back to sweet.

It’s About Time (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

I randomly came across this one and it made me smile so much. Probably one of the most inventive ways to play matchmaker that I’ve heard so far.

Nominated by @dontshootmespence

For Better or For Worst (series) by @stusbunker

She does intrigue like no one else and doesn’t get the love she deserves!

Marked (series) by @there-must-be-a-lock

This is so fucking vivid it's ridiculous. There's smut, there's angst, there's sweetness and it's all maddeningly good.

Nominated by @negans-lucille-tblr

Desire (onsehot) by @princessmisery666

This fic is the very definition of smangst and I loved every second of it. The fact Stacey claims she can’t write smut baffles me when I read this fic 😍

Dirty Little Secret (series) by @pink1031

Whenever I’m asked what my all time favourite fic is it’s this one. I didn’t read rpf before this but it pulled me in and I’m so glad it did! It was just incredible and gave me my obsession with the idea of dating J2.

Nominated by @lovetusk

Me Likey & We are real (oneshots) by @impala-dreamer

They were both fantastic and on point. Drunk Dean is a rare and beautiful sight, and there’s nothing I love more than comforting a down and out Sammy. Well done.

Nominated by @impalaimagining

Currently Thinking About Jensen... (oneshot) by @negans-lucille-tblr

This is such a short and effective little piece of smut. The way it teeters on the edge of absolutely and filthily inappropriate puts it on a whole new level of dirty. I am a huge fan of last-line punches to the face no matter what the genre is, and that’s exactly what this is. It leaves you begging for more in the most desperate way. It’s a quick read but it gets the job done.

Midnight Confessions (oneshot) by @katymacsupernatural

I love the way this fic has the reader second guessing herself even though she has no recollection of doing anything to upset the guys. I’m always here for an appearance from Sam to push his stubborn brother and their bunkmate in the right direction. Admittedly, I am a sleep-talker, and I’ve said my fair share of embarrassing things (including yelling at my husband about wanting a grilled cheese at 3am), but if I could just once have something I said in my sleep get me a kiss from Dean Winchester? Hell yes.

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

Coming Home (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

This is a beautiful heart wrenching story showcasing Dean’s desire for love and need affection and how few times he actually receives it. Denying himself of what he needs, until he doesn’t.

Unspoken (oneshot) by @deanscherrypie

A wonderful little drabble about how Dean lets you know he loves you without saying anything at all. Such a beautiful line… “All his broken pieces matched yours with mosaic complexity, and somehow you found a new kind of home within each other.”

Don’t Need An Excuse (oneshot) by @amanda-teaches

A beautifully crafted story from Dean’s POV about his girl and the tender loving moments in time that couples share. And, damn that ending, my poor heart.

Nominated by @there-must-be-a-lock

Anything And Everything (oneshot) by @rockhoochie

This fic honestly just took my breath away. You can feel the longing and wistfulness, and the writing is superb. There’s so much depth and detail here, it feels real and vibrant and lived-in, in a way that very few fics do. AND I love she writes Dean’s POV.

He Is, Therefore I am (oneshot) by @stusbunker

All I can say about this one is BROTHERS BEING BROTHERS. It's totally stream-of-consciousness, and it really does feel like you're in their heads.

Leaving Heaven (series) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Such a badass, snarky narrator with a distinctive voice, and her Demon Dean is dark and awful and sexy as hell, and there's so much depth and nuance in their interactions.

Golden Hour (oneshot) by @fangirlxwritesx67

It's straight-up wish fulfillment, fluffy comforting goodness, and I think everybody needs a little bit of that in their lives right now.

Nominated by @princessmisery666

The Question (oneshot) by @girl-next-door-writes

Death by fluff and it was so worth it !! This was perfect, of course Sam has some grand plan to propose and of course it doesn’t go to plan but ended up perfect anyway!! Was fun and sweet, loved it!!

Carry On (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

I love Rhi. I swear everything she writes, even AU’s, could be canon!! Characterizations are always on point, stories are engaging and make me feel something every time. This one is no exception. If I could I would send it to the writers to show them this is how the show should end!!

Kings Don’t Kneel (oneshot) by @slytherkins

A small drabble from Tara and as always it gave me all the feels. It could be canon, if anyone asks me I will tell them this is exactly how Crowley felt. This made me sad and I totally wanted to hug Crowley and tell him it would all be okay.

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Cocky (oneshot) by @stusbunker

Sexy, fun, and real. I love your Dean, Stuie!

Golden Hour (oneshot) by @fangirlxwritesx67

Comforting and cozy and swoony!

Nominated by @littlehotmess26

Until The Day I Die Again (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Mel writes Dean x Benny amazingly and this fic is one of my favorites.

Happy Birthday, Baby (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

This was a birthday gift to me and it was soo good. Mel did a great job.

This Isn’t One Of Mine (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

Dawn stepped out of her comfort zone for this one and it turned out phenomenal.

Goodbye, Sweetheart (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

This fic is heartbreaking and I absolutely love it.

Nominated by @kate-huntington

While You Sleep (oneshot) by @foreverwayward

A heartwarming little fic about Dean living the domesticated life we all wish for him. The writer has a very clever way of storytelling and the end might come as a surprise, only adding to the emotion it already brought along.

Findings (seires) by @kathaswings

This is one of my favorite series out there and I revisited it recently. The overall story arc is a mystery I just had to unravel and I couldn’t put it down if I wanted to. The bond between Dean and Mackenzie is so precious. Writing a child isn’t easy. I’ve read plenty of books and seen plenty of films in which the maturity that was added wasn’t natural, but this author handles the Mac’s dialogue amazingly well. What’s also interesting is the jumps from point of view between Dean and Y/N, giving very personal perspectives on the gripping story.

Heartbeats (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

I’ll start by saying that I don’t ship Dean and Cas together, but I do appreciate the people who do. What this little piece of art does is incredible, however, because while I was reading, I found myself rooting for them. The writer does a great job by using the literal human heart as a backbone of this story. Intriguing and very well executed.

Everything That’s Yet To Come (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

The author took me by the hand through this moving little one shot, which feels like a collection of greatest hits and wishes come true. It offers peace and closure not only for the older Winchester brother, but for the reader as well. Beautiful piece of writing.

Take A Drunk Girl Home (oneshot) by @amanda-teaches

Dean taking care of others; it’s his nature and shows what a kind soul he truly is. The situation sketched here is no exception, and it’s softer than one can imagine. The pace is steady and the balance between fluff and comedy is just right. A lovely read.

The Demon Inside Of You (oneshot) by @foreverwayward

Curing Dean from the demon that he has become proves to be difficult when he’s so hard to resist. What else is hard to resist, is this beautiful pitch black one shot. I don’t read Demon!Dean fiction often, because it still feels foreign to see the character that I love so much turn into something so evil. This however, is so gripping and well written, that the darkness swallows up the beholder. Rough, hot, sad, narcissistic, all these ingredients packed up in one hell of a story.

Curves And Edges (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

This equally sweet, sexy, funny and sad story is a big shout out to all women who think they don’t meet the beauty standards and feel like they will never be good enough to get noticed. It is one thing to replace a name with Y/N and call it a reader’s insert; it’s a gift to make every person reading this feel like they are the character in this story. The author handles every woman’s insecurities with grace, making her words both relatable and soothing. Her spot on version of Dean reminds us that we are beautiful, desired and unique.

Watch Your Fcking Mouth (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Dean falls under a frustrating curse, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I was wheezing, couldn’t breathe and died laughing. It’s astonishing how the writer can juggle comedy and sex without the two ruling each other out. An uplifting read.

Life For Rent (series) by @winchest09

Conspiracies, deceit, crime. A strong family bond, blossoming love, oh, not to mention the sex. This series is intriguing beyond imagination and certainly not just another mobster fanfiction. The writing is smart and I could tell from the first paragraph that it’s loaded with hints and foreshadowing, but I couldn’t pick them out. This triggers a curiosity like an itch I can’t quite scratch away until I finish reading this story. And so I wait eagerly and drop everything the second a new chapter comes out. An absolute must read!

When You Least Expect It (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer

Talking about an epic love story, but it’s so much more than that. The music that plays such an important factor, the setting that is Seaside. The fabulous supporting characters Bri, Rob, Jason and Jared, the wardrobe, not to mention the wonderful little gems and details that this author weaved into the story, showing how much love she has put into it. This is without a shadow of a doubt my favorite RPF I’ve come across.

Nominated by @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

The Unexpected (oneshot) by @impalaimagining

The desperation and neediness between characters is just…I can almost feel through the screen. And the gif at the top of the post is the closest thing to porn Tumblr allows now is HOT.

Criminal Love (series) by @kalesrebellion

This mob fic has a lot of things going for it: mob!Dean, big brother Benny (which I didn’t know I needed in my life, but apparently I do), mystery, and a unique way of incorporating a lot of familiar faces from the SPN world. It’s 6 chapters in and I am DYING to see what happens next because the last chapter left me shook!

Unplanned Parenthood (oneshot) by @erins-culinary-service

This fic makes me long for more canon dad!Dean because he’s just so good at it and it feels like it would fit in so well. The author nailed the family vibes and I love that she found a way to make it canon plausible (something I just can’t seem to grasp in my own writing); well done, doll.

Changes (series) by @katehuntington

This fic is super unique as it is like a series rewrite, but rather than using “Pilot, Wendigo, Dead in the Water” etc., Kate is writing her own episodes! Episode 1 just wrapped up, with my personal favorite being part 10 because the characterization of both Winchester brothers felt so spot on to me. Zoe, the amazing OFC and star of this fic, might be the coolest person ever and I wish she was my best friend. Heads up though, this is not your CW Supernatural; it’s darker, dirtier, and probably a lot closer to what the Winchesters’ lives are actually like.

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

The Man on the Side of the Road (seires) by @supernatural-jackles

This is a seriously awesome Dean AU fic! Both Dean and the reader have so much baggage, but they’re working together to fix each other and it’s just BEAUTIFUL. It’s a series, and I can’t wait to see how it ends!!!

Nominated by @emoryhemsworth

Never Alone Again (oneshot) by @dissect-me

This author was kind enough to take the time to write about a recent trauma I discovered happened to me as a child and how Dean would react/comfort me. It’s powerful and really helped me. ❤️

Nominated by @fangirlxwritesx67

Laissez Les Bons Temp Rouler (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

M is the kind of author that is the reason you have the “four recs per author” rule because otherwise I would just be submitting her entire masterlist every month. For a talent like MJ, all it takes is a photo to spark an entire story. This photo of Jensen was particularly inspiring, and MJ did it justice. Hot, drunk, sexy, just UGH.

Where Is My Shiny Gun (oneshot) by thoughtslikeaminefield

Do you love Dean? Do you love Donna? Do you love Sam? Does your mouth water and your knees go weak just a little thinking about all 3 of them together? Do you need some generous, consensual, sunshiney, smutty love? Then check this out.

Leaving Heaven (series) by thoughtslikeaminefield

Demon Dean meets his match in the most compelling OFC I’ve ever read, bounty hunter Tazi. Where to start with this series? MJ works some of her best magic yet, seamlessly weaving the story into the show we know so well. Her Dean is brilliant, as always, every supporting character spot on. The action is tight, the murder wrenching, the sex smoking. And as good as it is, as perfect as Dean and Sam are, as impatient I am for every chapter .. I would read it all just for Tazi. Tazi is an OFC worthy of novelization: tough, sarcastic, sexy, and fully realized. She’s so beautiful and broken that you can’t help falling in love with her as you read. If I could ask everyone to read just one SPN FF ever, it would be this one.

Three Bad Ideas (series) by @there-must-be-a-lock

She’s just getting started on her Everything prequels but, by every indicator they will be JUST as filthy as the original, with even more emotional depth and character development. Frankly it’s HOT and heartbreaking and her voice for Jared is so, so good, and so is Jensen, and I’m just all over this love story. I screamed at her when she published, that if I didn’t know what came next, I would be HEARATBROKENED (that’s how excited I got, that I forgot how to speak.)

Ocean Eyes (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

The ocean is my Happy Place and I’m a sucker for Sam so this fic just hit all my sweet spots. A lot of us are looking for comfort fics right now and this is uniquely heartwarming.

Shackled (series) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

I KNOW this was nominated last month but there are more chapters and it just keeps getting better! For every question that the story answers, it asks two more. Also, it’s started getting smutty and whoooooooo boy.

Anything And Everything (oneshot) by @rockhoochie

I don’t even remember why this lovely lady was asking for prompts but I sent one that I think was, listening to records, first kiss. I had long since forgotten when she dropped this 8K word MASTERPIECE on all of us.

It’s such a sweet in-character Dean, but a relaxed side of Dean that he deserves and we don’t really get to see. It’s soft and sensual and just… you can feel it while you read.

Nominated by @manawhaat

Sex Ed (oneshot) by @cleighwrites

This is a type of wincest I’m not sure I’ve experienced before, but I can say without a doubt that I fucking love it! It’s your classic little brother Sammy looking up to Dean. It’s the show. It’s their relationship to a T, but with that little bit of helplessness that makes Sam feel like such a fucking kid! I don’t even know if my normal wincest loving self would call this actual Wincest, but wherever it falls on the radar, it’s wonderful!

Passion (oneshot) by @bohowitch

This is poetry in motion, just like Sam is. This is a beautiful, firery, perfect ode to all that is Sam Winchester!

Neptune Rising (oneshot) by @atc74

This is such a clever and refreshing AU! I don’t think I’ve ever read one like this and both characters are nuanced in such believable ways. It’s not too long, so you should definitely take a sec to check it out!

Shackled (series) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

What can I say about this series other than HOLY FUCK!! It’s got twists and turns and secrets and guilt and worry and drama and excitement and passion and fucking everything you want in a good, juicy, keep you on the edge of your seat kind of story!

There’s a feral brutality to the way she portrays Demon!Dean in this that is actually scary and makes me nervous in real life. I find myself looking around the room when I read this, pulling my feet in from off the side of the couch as if this version of Deanmon is gonna snatch me up if I’m not careful. It’s intense and SO. DAMN. COMPELLING. And it’s not even a fucking reader insert. I find myself worrying about Miriam (the ofc) at random parts of the day long after I’ve finished reading the latest chapters...

This series is a fucking MUST READ!

Celibacy, Interrupted (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Any fic with Jody x a Winchester is my jam, but this one is like, no bullshit, just fantastic interaction and sultry, perfect ‘smut’. Goddamn. This leaves me in a pile of goo not even for myself, but FOR JODY!

Let Go (oneshot) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

So bdsm seems to have been a theme in my life for the past month and I don’t know why, but this fucking fits the bill. I recently dodged a bullet with a ‘dom’ (read: a bossy guy who wanted nudes who ignored care and consent) and this fic is like, the complete opposite of what I experienced. I’ve read and done research and talked to enough people to know what real bdsm looks like and that saved me, and this fic only reinforces that proper bdsm lifestyle.

It’s gentle yet firm, and it forces you to let go of control even when you feel like you HAVE to hold onto it. That force caught me off guard when I read it, but it makes so much sense, and every aspect of this really, truly is well thought out and spot on, good, caring bdsm. If you’re interested in it, this is a great place to start your reading and research!

When 2 Is Better Than 1 (oneshot) by @wi-deangirl77

Not only is the smut fucking glorious in this, but Ketch’s gentle nature is 100% what makes this for me! I’m not used to reading him as gentle or caring and having him work with Dean in this to help the reader, not to fill his own needs, but truly coming at it from a place of care and worry, melts me into a pile of gooey feels.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

#afa masterlist #angel fish awards #spnfanficpond #spn fanfiction #spn fic rec

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shiningstages · 4 years ago

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meet the mun

NAME: Kaitlyn / Kitkat! Kit or Kat are default nicknames I usually go by if you prefer those~

PRONOUNS: She / Her

ZODIAC SIGN: Taurus

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single and looking respectively from afar while I finish college~

——— THREE FACTS!

I probably would have a completely different life right now if I didn’t discover Love Live and decided on rping Kotori ( I can also say similarly about wanting to reconnect with friends via GBF and picking up Diantha as a muse! ).

I will always default to the idol-type as my first fav character in a game ( hence my love for Diantha and my current love for Barbara in Genshin ); if no idol-types are present or they’re all idols, I default to the “trying to lock away negative feelings and/or root for their friends’ dreams as the best friend cinnamon roll” types *points at my best girls*

I accidentally mis-tapped and spent money on Revue Starlight Re:Live the day it came out, because it was 3am and it shoved the level up buying things pop-up in my face, and I wanted to click away but instead paid for Whaling. ( Added fun fact - The only games I’ve knowingly spent my own money on have been Love Live ( SIF and AS ) and GBF, and even then I’ve never Whaled. All my other money things were from free money doing Google Rewards surveys~ )

——— EXPERIENCE!

PLATFORMS USED: Tumblr, twitter, discord (newest > oldest)

——— MUSE PREFERENCE!

GENDER : Females. There’s not a solid concrete reason I can say as to why besides I just feel like I can represent them better, get a bit more attached to muses I can see myself as and most of those were just girls for awhile, and also early in my second era of rp I was just into idol anime and Idolmaster SideM wasn’t a glimmer in my eye then, nor had any other male idol-types caught my eye, so *shrugs*.

LEAST FAVOURITE FACE(S) : *points at hentai* Though in seriousness, I don’t think I have a least favorite face? If you’re just super generic I probably won’t remember you, but that doesn’t make me dislike it either? Only if it looks like the artists have lost all consistency and hope will I then dislike something.

MULTI OR SINGLE: Both? I feel there are a lot of elemental factors, especially in what fandoms you’re rping and what groups of rping you meet and/or become friends with. I find both my stand alone Diantha blog and this multi very nice, and I understand the pros and cons of both, from exposure of muses to keeping up with threads. Those pros and cons led me to putting Kotori and Lillian ( my oldest rp blog and first ever OC if you don’t start at the Very very beginning --- ) on this multi, and also why Diantha is her own thing. And in terms of interacting I’m fine with both there as well!

——— FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT.

FLUFF : We love her; yes great content *chef kiss*. Too much of it, or it feeling just like A Lot of sugar with not a lot of substance ( like a candy sugar skull cookie except it’s not a cookie it’s literally just sugar formed into the shape of a skull, and you never thought you’d grimace or get so tired of sugar until you ate that --- true story ) can get a bit dry, which was one of my main problems with some of my previous blogs, even though I do just love mindless fluff sometimes too. Now you may look at my threads right now and think “Hey but wait, there’s just so much fluff here?”, and yes, but there’s Substance and Character to make this a real cookie! I feel that also does just come from what I seek to write as a writer and what I want from another; I want to bake a cookie with friends, not marvel at sugar on a sheet.

ANGST : See cookie analogy above, but instead of sugar it’s the flour and baking soda; the weighty stuff that can really weigh down a cookie...Or mind, if you rp too much of it or if the cookie is a bit too dry. You could also see both angst and fluff as the oven, where it can be very warm and lovely, but too much of it can burn you out ( and possibly burn cookies; boo ). I actually used to do a lot of angst when I was younger, but I basically learned to write novella / multi-para style from when I first started using blogs to really flesh out characters and thoughts, and also fluff was sprinkled in, either with the angst to create hurt / comfort or in different threads to keep up variety. So I could never really get bored of angst ( i used to call myself the queen of angst; i was very funny ) because I kind of developed my style through it and had other things and feelings to bounce off of. And I’d like to say that’s how my writing still is, though I do more so lean into fluff territory when starting threads and leave angst for drabbles, and dabble in hurt / comfort in between. So I just have a soft spot for both, and my cookie analogies still stand~

SMUT : I have never smutted; not once; I’m a puritan at heart. ( That said I have wanted to attempt actual smut threads on occasion, and have made some choice headcanons with some muses, some not even my own! ).

PLOT / MEMES : I think everyone loves a good lil meme and a good lil idea to start things off, or to just write out something in general~ They vary from writing exercises to deep dives of either character or writing style for me ( as at least Wars can attest, i can go Hard on a drabble prompt ), and I love them so much ( so much so that even i make them now follow that blog for content if you wanna~ )

———–

Tagged by: @kjeragwarlord

Tagging: you!!! you seeing this!!! ( only if you want to though~ )

#;big bubble blowing baby! ( ooc )#( very fun one of these!#when was the last time i actually did an angst thread.................wowza dxgfcghfcgj )

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96percentdone · 5 years ago

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The Moonlit Prince and the Lying Thief (Part 4)

@oumasaiweek I’m a day late I’m so sorry! I couldn’t finish this chapter on time yesterday I got burnt out and it hit like 3am and I was dying inside. I’ll try my best to keep the daily schedule from here on out though!

But Happy birthday Ouma! This is the fourth entry in a series. If you’re interested, go on my blog and check the tag v3 tangled AU. Thanks!

“I have so many regrets,” Shuuichi groans, voice muffled. His face is starting to hurt a little from the way he flopped right on top of a hedge, leaves and twigs poking and digging into his cheeks, but the darkness the bush provides matches his emotional state, so he stays. If Tsumugi ever found out about this she would be so hurt. He’d never earn her trust back. She’d probably punish him for years, and he’d deserve it. “Why did I do this.”

“Beats me.” Doukeshi leans on a nearby tree, tossing a grey stone up and down. At this rate this side-quest of his will be over sooner than he thought. “Guess you can’t handle this after all, huh?”

“I can do it!” Shuuichi jumps back up, determination in his stance. “It’ll be fine! She’ll just never find out!”

“She?”

“My aunt.” And with that Shuuichi whines again, and falls back to sitting on the floor. “She’ll totally find out…” He’s in so much trouble if he does this. If he goes back right now, he can probably dodge it, right? He’ll tell her he jumped out the window, regretted it, and ran right back in. Does he leave the thief part in?

“You could just lie.” Doukeshi points out. Lying has gotten him out of so many conundrums. There seems to be just a whole lot of backstory here, and while he’s curious, he’s not planning on diving into it. He just wants to get this over with as soon as possible, so he can go home.

“I can’t just lie to her! She’d find me out, and it’d be wrong.” Never mind that Shuuichi is a poor liar, but to betray and then deceive her? No, absolutely not. He needs to just tell the truth, and go back, and this whole thing was a mistake. “I’m going back.”

“Suit yourself.” Doukeshi keeps tossing that rock, staring blankly up at the sky. “Toss me my satchel while you’re up there, will ya?”

“No!” At that, Shuuichi bolts up, and starts marching away from the tower. “We’re not doing that. I’m—I’m going to see those lanterns. You’re not getting out of it that easily.”

“Okay~” Tossing the rock aside, Doukeshi strolls along behind him. He doesn’t point out that this is the wrong direction, just watches as Shuuichi walks several more feet and abruptly stopping.

“I don’t know which way we’re supposed to go,” Shuuichi says, and Doukeshi can’t stifle his snorting, which earns him an embarrassed glare. “Very funny. Lead the way.”

“As you wish, detective-chan.”

They don’t get very far, maybe another few feet, before something rustles nearby. “What was that?” Shuuichi asks, eyes darting around before landing on the bush up ahead.

“I dunno.” Doukeshi shrugs. “Bandits?”

“Bandits?!” The rustling continues. Frying pan armed in sweaty hands, he freezes, eyes glued to the bush.

“Thugs?” Realizing that Shuuichi stopped moving, Doukeshi turns around.

“Thugs?!” Shuuichi takes a small step backward, eyes never leaving the bush.

“Axe murderers?”

“Mur—murderers?”

Something jumps out of the bush, and Shuuichi finds himself hovering behind the thief. After a few seconds, he peers over Doukeshi’s smaller, vest clad shoulder, to see—“It’s just a rabbit.” Small, and furry, and brown. Oh. That…that’s perfectly normal and harmless. He puts the frying pan away.

“You do know we’re outside, right?” Doukeshi asks, glancing behind him, and they both resume walking. “Maybe you can’t handle this.”

“I’ll be fine!” Of course, he knows that. He knows about animals too, but there’s so many other things out here besides just those. Even so, “It was just because you scared me.”

“Nishishi~ Sorry! I can’t help myself!” So Shuuichi is easily scared, huh? Maybe that works in his favor. They only just started but it might be time for a small detour. “Hey, you hungry? Cause I seriously need something to eat!”

“Um, sure.” Beyond the cave, there’s a seemingly endless array of trees. Every tree passed takes Shuuichi one step closer to his dream.

Tsumugi stops in her tracks, scanning the forest for the seventh time in the past half hour. There’s something off about these woods. She’s never been truly alone here—there’s that tavern on the way to town, and there’s always been the occasional child playing dangerous games—but there’s too many people out today. What happened?

The sound of hooves galloping across dirt approaches from behind, and on instinct she hides behind a large maple tree. Citizen? Or worse? A black mare flies past her. Tsumugi only manages to get a brief glimpse at the woman riding it, but the shining chestplate tells all. “No.”

What is a royal guard doing out this deep in her woods? The crown was stolen by someone, but if they’re this far in, they might find him! The trees blur together as she tears through the woods, knocking aside any stray branches or vines in her way. She has to go back. She has to go back!

There it is. The tower. “Shuuichi?” No response. “Shuuichi, let down your hair!” Still nothing. Where is he? Did they find him? She needs to get inside now. Wrenching away at the stones that make up the backside of the tower reveals a hidden stairwell. As soon as there’s enough space for her to crawl through, she does, sprinting up the stairs.

But there’s no one in the main room. “Shuuichi?” And there’s no one in his room. “This just plain isn’t funny!” And there’s no one in her room. No matter where she looks, there’s no sign of silver anywhere in the dark tower. She’s alone.

The noon sun shines through the window, and something shimmers under the stairs to her missing “nephew’s” room. What is that? Pulling the stair reveals a bag containing the stolen crown. But that’s not all. Slowly, Tsumugi pulls out a mask, black and red and resembling a joker’s hat. So Doukeshi took Shuuichi away.

Opening a nearby drawer reveals a glimmering dagger. She’ll find him. She’ll find them both.

“To your right, as previously stated, is more trees,” Shuuichi rolls his eyes as Doukeshi narrates their same-y surroundings. He’s been doing this for at least 20 minutes now, for reasons Shuuichi can’t understand. “But to your left is, voila!” With a grand gesture, the thief showcases a quiet trail that leads to a small building. “Our destination, Saishuu Tavern.”

“Final Tavern…?” What an ominous name. “What happened to the other taverns?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?” What does he mean by that? Did something happen? What could have possibly—“Are you messing with me again?”

“Nishishi~ You make it so easy.” Doukeshi pushes and holds the door open as Shuuichi makes a whining noise in response. “After you.”

“Thank…you…” Shuuichi trails off upon seeing the interior of the pub. It’s…a lot to process. There’s a hodgepodge of stuff furnishing the somewhat-circular room. Some of it is innocent (a portrait or two, a piano), some of it is strange (the steering wheel of a boat, a racket), and some of it…terrifying. The array of knives and spears, a taxidermy deer head, a guillotine, and god there are just so many people. All their eyes are on him. Shuuichi freezes in place.

Except they’re not on him, but on the purple vested man behind him. “Doesn’t that gremlin by the door look familiar to anyone?” Miu wipes her messy blond hair away from her goggles and squints.

“Hmm…Tenko agrees, but she just can’t quite place it,” says Tenko, walking up past Shuuichi to Doukeshi. He’s just glad a woman that buff doesn’t have those threatening eyes on him.

“Who, me? Nah, I’m no one,” Doukeshi waves her off, strolling into the tavern without worry. He takes a seat in a nearby rickety wooden chair. “Sides I think my partner here is the weirder one.”

And everyone is staring at Shuuichi. This time for real. Nobody says anything, they just look dumbstruck at the sheer amount of hair. Until Rantarou pipes up, pressing a finger to his lips revealing the anchor tattoo running down the length of his arm. “No, I know who that is. That’s that thief. Doukeshi.”

“With the hair?” Miu shouts.

“He’s talking about the short one,” says Ryouma who isn’t much taller than the wooden table he’s standing around.

“You don’t get to call me short, dwarf-chan!” Doukeshi pouts, folding his arms and turning away. He looks like a petulant child when he does this, but despite this, is entirely unconcerned about being called out. He’s been in worse situations.

“Nyehh, shouldn’t someone get the guards then?” Himiko says, uncaring that her cape and hat are getting in the way of her attempt to nap on the table.

“It would seem like a logical source of progression,” says Kirumi from behind the bar. Without even looking, she catches the empty glass sliding back her way in her gloved hands.

“I’ll go get them! They should still be nearby!” Kiibo jumps up, one leg made of metal.

“Um—” Shuuichi starts, but the boy is already out the door. Great. He just got here, and he’s already going to lose his guide.

“Heyyy, barmaid-chan, can you get me the most disgustingly sweet drink you have?” Doukeshi waves his arm from his corner table, but she just ignores him. Even better: the thief doesn’t care at all.

“Um, Doukeshi-san, maybe we should—”

“Relaaaax, Detective-chan. I’m not getting caught. ‘Sides,” Doukeshi looks around the room with an easy-going grin, and Shuuichi is once again reminded of the weaponry on the wall. What kind of place is this? Is he in danger? “Don’t you wanna take in the experience? This is a five-star joint!”

“Actually, I think I really don’t—”

“Excuse me,” blue eyes bore directly into Shuuichi’s own, cutting off his line of thought, “but Angie was wondering why you’re with a wanted thief?”

“Gonta wants to know that too.” Lumbering over from the back, Gonta stares curiously at Shuuichi’s hair. “Also, why do you have so much hair?”

“Is it not possible that this menace is one of the accomplices to the crime?” Tenko says.

Ryouma scans Shuuichi briefly, and says, “Doesn’t seem practical with this much hair.”

“Obviously it’s a fuckin’ wig,” Miu says. “They’re both just trying shitty disguises.”

“They definitely don’t make wigs that long…” Himiko mumbles.

“Even if they did, I heard there were two accomplices,” Rantarou says.

The debate goes on around Shuuichi, with numerous voices piping in with their theories or suspicions. He wants to take Doukeshi and leave, but the thief shows no sign of leaving, kicking his feet back on the table and even egging them on. Not helping! The room is stifling. It’s so hard to breathe. Why did he leave the tower? He wants to go home. This was a mistake. There are so many people, and they’re all getting closer, and arguing, and arguing, about him, and Doukeshi, and his hair, and him and him and him—

“Hey guys, maybe we should let him talk,” Kaede says. She gets up from her seat at the piano, and walks over to Shuuichi, who all this time was still paralyzed at the door. With a gentle smile, she asks, “What’s your name?”

Deep breaths. Shuuichi exhales, slow and long, before finally speaking up. “I’m um, Shuuichi. Just Shuuichi.”

“Shuuichi-kun then. Then you can call me Kaede.” Her voice is warm and reassuring, like Shuuichi always imagined his mother would be like. He nods. “Do you want to explain why you’re here?”

“Well…” How does he begin with this? Obviously, Shuuichi can’t say anything about the hair, but the rest? Can he tell them about the deal? Probably not. So all that’s left is his dream. Are they really going to accept something so simple? So childish? It’s worth a shot. “I wanted to see the lantern festival. I’ve never gone, well…anywhere, before, so I need him to take me.”

“And the hair?” Miu asks. Crap he’s not out of this after all. What does he say? Does he lie? Can he lie? Should he lie? The longer he stays silent, the more suspicious this looks. But he doesn’t know what to say! What should he do—?

“He’s going for a world record,” Doukeshi answers. He’s not looking at Miu, but Shuuichi, and winks. A rescue; thank god. “I want in on the cash prize, so I struck a deal with him.” It’s a lie, but it saved him. Shuuichi will have to thank him for that.

“Stealing the crown wasn’t enough?” Gonta exclaims.

“Is the lantern festival really that important to you?” Kirumi asks. Nobody says it, but the question is implied: is it worth getting tangled up with a thief for this?

But to Shuuichi, that’s something he doesn’t even have to think about. “Yes.” It’s resolute, something he hasn’t been since he arrived. Maybe even before that. “I’ve been dreaming about them my entire life, so now that I have that chance, I need to take it.” And maybe he’s working with a thief, but he thinks that Doukeshi isn’t all that evil. He didn’t have to help. In fact, he could have probably snuck out while they all focused on him, and ran back to the tower, but he stayed. He’s risked a lot just to be here.

But they’re going to turn him in if Kiibo gets back before they can leave. Shuuichi’s chance ends right here, unless he does something. He can’t let that happen. “So…I need you to let us leave.”

Doukeshi raises an eyebrow. Is he serious? Does he really think they’re just going to let him leave? Let Shuuichi go, maybe, but not him. Doukeshi is pretty sure he’s going to have to think fast to get out. Is he really that naïve?

“You can tell the guards where we went, if you want,” Shuuichi continues, looking around at the skeptical group, “I think that’s perfectly fair, but please just let us go. I’m sure all of you have dreams, right?”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” Angie asks, leaning over to the side. On her belt he can see a bunch of painting supplies.

“All of the stuff in the room,” Shuuichi explains. He’s been wondering about the eclectic collection this whole time. The knives, and spears, and taxidermy, all scream ‘thug bar’, and so do the tattoos some of the patrons have, but the other things? “Like Angie-san, you painted all the portraits hanging here, right?”

Angie lights up. “I did!”

“Kaede-san plays that piano.”

Kaede nods.

“And I think you—” Shuuichi points to the green-haired man.

“Amami Rantarou. You can call me Rantarou.”

“Rantarou-san’s a sailor. That wheel on the wall was your idea, right?”

One by one, Shuuichi wanders through the tavern, going through all the items in the room. He matches them from person to person, based on things they’re wearing, or things nearby where they were. Even for Kiibo, who is no longer in the room. And one by one, he captures the interests and names and hearts of every single person he figures out. He thought for sure that if Shuuichi came here, he’d be so overwhelmed he’d want to go back home, and yet. It’s kind of amazing, Doukeshi thinks, that someone so naïve is still so capable. Despite himself, he finds himself a little impressed.

“What about his dream?” Kaede asks, pointing to Doukeshi, and once again everyone’s attention is on him.

“Eh, don’t bother,” Doukeshi says, getting up from his seat. “It’s to be insanely rich so I can lord it over everyone else.” That’s a lie, of course, but nobody here needs to know that.

“That’s horrible,” Tenko says, and everyone nods in agreement, making their own judgmental remarks amongst themselves.

In that instant, the door bursts open, and Kiibo returns with around five or six guards. “I found them!”

And just as suddenly, he’s being grabbed, dragged behind the bar along with Shuuichi. He looks around bewildered, just in time to see Kirumi pull a lever, and the wooden floor beneath them lowers into a ramp, leading into a tunnel. An escape route. So all that touchy-feely stuff paid off. “Go. And don’t come back, or we’ll have to turn you in,” she says, with a stern gaze.

“Thank you, Kirumi-san.” Shuuichi bows a little from his spot on the floor. He didn’t think he’d be able to sway them, but he did. Somehow.

Her stern gaze turns soft, and she smiles at him. “Make your dream come true, Shuuichi-san. I hope it’s everything you’ve imagined.”

“Where is he?” Kaito is talking to the patrons about their disappeared thief while the other guards patrol outside, but they seem to be giving mixed stories. Maki tunes them out.

Those stories never mattered, because he definitely didn’t leave through the door. She has her own witness confirming it. So how did he escape? She’s examined every square inch of this room, but she doesn’t see that pesky thief at all. There has to be some trick. Going up to the bar, she runs her hands along the taps, until she finds one that moves. A lever. A yank, and the floor opens up to reveal a tunnel. “So that’s where he went. Momota. Get everyone. We’re leaving.”

“Harumaki—” But she’s already gone. Kaito sighs. “Fine, I’ll get them.”

Tsumugi watches from the window as Maki storms into the tunnel. It was quite easy to manipulate such an impulsive guard. She needs someone to catch that thief, after all, and dealing with a pest is their job. But she has to get to Shuuichi first, before they do.

He was traipsing around this tavern—carelessly—happily. She saw him. He had the audacity to betray her like this? Oh no. She’s not having that. He’ll have to be punished too.

“Oh, hello Miss.” She finds herself being addressed by a young boy with a metal leg. “Can I do anything for you?”

“You can actually,” Tsumugi replies with a plastic grin, before pointing the dagger right between his eyes. “Tell me where that tunnel lets out.”

Shuuichi will get his punishment, she just has to catch him first.

#oumasaiweek #oumasai #saiouma #Ouma Kokichi #Saihara Shuuichi #hope.txt #v3 Tangled AU #my fic #dangan ronpa #ndrv3 #I feel bad I'm late #I'm so sorry y'all #I fucked it up #BUT HERE IT IS #I HOPE ITS WORTH IT

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