#but on the other hand realizes its not good to put all your needy eggs in one basket

[thriftdyke]

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[potatoes-is-are-food]

are you comfortable doing ovipostion? moth jealous shigaraki have my heart ♥️ (if not, its ok) thank u

Am I comfortable? Am I COMFORTABLE???? Nonny I have been waiting for this ask, I’m absolutely thrilled!!! Mothura has a very special place in my monster fucking heart <3

| NSFW, fem reader (no pronouns used although “good girl” is), feat. Is it Mindbreak or Love?(tm)

Leaves crunched under your feet with every step, making you wince at the sound. It added to the fear, causing waves of adrenaline to course through your body. You weren’t sure how long you’d been walking, the battery on your phone slowly draining from your reliance the flashlight to trudge through the darkness. Panic surged through you as it went out, your phone finally dead and entirely useless.

When your car broke down in the middle of nowhere you assumed you could call for help, only to be deterred by the complete lack of signal. Out of options, you’d decided to walk down the road until you could get your phone to work. You didn’t understand how it happened; one second you were walking on the road, and the next you were deep in the woods, hopelessly lost. The sun had fallen shortly after, dropping the temperature and making you painfully aware of how under-dressed you were. And now you had no light, either.

You trembled, stumbling in the dark as you started to sob, completely overwhelmed. You tripped and fell to the ground, your phone slung into the leaves somewhere. You frantically searched, feeling through the leaves and dirt for it. You crumpled, curling into a ball as you started to hyperventilate.

Thunder rolled in the distance, and when you looked up you realized you couldn’t see the stars. It was going to rain on you. You cried harder, trying to take shelter against a tree as the wind whipped at your skin and clothes.

Then, you heard something heavy thud into the leaves not fifteen feet away. Your eyes went wide, darting around futilely as you struggled to see anything in the dark. Leaves and twigs broke, the sounds approaching you as you started to slowly back away. Rain started to fall and the sound of drops hitting the leaves disoriented you further, now unable to tell which direction you should go. You sank slowly to the ground, hoping whatever it was would either overlook you or perceive you as not a threat.

You weren’t sure how, but you knew it was in front of you. Your breath hitched and you clenched your eyes shut, whimpering when you felt breath on your face. You felt something brush your cheek and flinched, trying to curl into a defensive position with your hands up.

“You smell good,” a raspy voice spoke softly, no more than a few centimeters from your face. Too stunned to move, you froze as several hands caressed you, cupping your tear-stained face and stroking your arms. A sickly sweet smell permeated the air, making you lightheaded and dizzy.

“I’ll help you.” You felt his face press into your neck and he inhaled deeply, shuddering as he exhaled against your skin. The hazy feeling intensified, causing an oddly needy feeling to build in your chest. You could feel your self-control slipping away as you fell forward onto him, four strong arms easily supporting you as he rose. He cradled you against his chest, an odd purr sounding in his chest as you snuggled against him, losing consciousness quickly due to the combined exhaustion and stress.

When you woke you were dry, your bare back pressed against a warm chest and something soft covering your otherwise naked body. Your vision was hazy, but as it cleared you noticed it was a gigantic moth wing blanketing you. Two pale arms draped over you, one over your waist and the other resting a hand on your hip.

You were in some kind of makeshift nest surrounded by a random assortment of objects. Forks, old shoes and other articles of clothing, some pairs of glasses, and other things littered the floors and shelves around the room. The space itself looked like part of an old castle or something, made up of stone and dilapidated, no doubt abandoned a long time ago. There were enough gaps in the walls for sunlight to stream in, illuminating everything enough for you to see.

You rolled onto your stomach, turning to face the creature. You nearly gasped, looking into his bright red eyes for the first time. He stared at you intensely, as though unsure of what to do. You felt your face burn, suddenly very aware of your lack of clothes. You brought your knees up to your chest as you sat up in a panic, trying to cover yourself from his very human-like gaze.

“Where am I?” you bunched yourself up tighter, shaking without the warmth of his wing on top of you. His antennae stiffened and he sat up too, leaning closer to you as he spoke.

“Our nest,” he said softly, approaching you cautiously as though you were a wild animal. Under different circumstances you might have laughed at the role reversal, but as is, you were just concerned about the word “our.” He slowly reached out and rested his hand on your arm, lightly stroking your skin.

“Don’t be scared,” he eased forward, “would never hurt mate.” His scent took the same sweet turn it had in the woods, and you relaxed a bit, still covering yourself but allowing him to trail his fingers along your arms and shoulders. Unconsciously you leaned closer, warmth starting to spread throughout your body and pool low in your stomach. His antennae twitched and he leaned his head back, letting his pale blue hair fall behind his shoulders. Before you could stop yourself you were sniffing at his neck, eyes rolling back at the delightful intensity.

He embraced you, pushing your chest against his and stroking your back. You tentatively brushed your lips against his skin, unsure if it was by your own volition or an effect of his scent. The purr he gave you in response made you decide you didn’t care, and you let yourself ease into his touch. He pulled away, looking you over as you crossed your arms over your chest once more and clenched your thighs together. The heat overtaking you made you pant and wish he’d keep holding you. His hand cupped your face for a moment before trailing down, gliding across the skin of your neck and pulling at your arm when he reached it. You did what he wanted, bringing your arms around his neck, only minimally embarrassed when he leered at your breasts.

“So pretty,” he hummed, the sound soothing your nerves. You pressed against him, kissing his lips as his hands roamed your body. He didn’t reciprocate at first, unsure what you were doing. He caught on fast, though, moving his lips against yours softly, his upper set of hands stroking up and down your back while the lower ones gripped gently at your thighs. His movements were hesitant and gentle, like he didn’t know how to touch you. The scent he was putting off only increased in intensity, though, making you squirm. You leaned back, breaking the kiss to look down at your slick-coated thighs. Oh. The druggy sweet scent suddenly made more sense.

“Breed with me,” he breathed, peering down at the mess your leaking cunt was making and nodding to himself as if confirming the command. You nervously watched as cock twitched and grew to full size, the sheer mass of it intimidating enough to briefly make you consider running. One look at his face, now tinged a light pink across his cheeks, had you abandoning all thoughts of leaving. He pushed you back against the nest, hovering over you as he rutted his thick girth against your thighs.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, watching his face as he lined himself up. He met your stare and opened his mouth, unconsciously prompting you to do the same as his saliva dripped down and into it. The taste was sweet like his scent, and you nearly climaxed right then from the overwhelming pleasure ingesting it gave you. Unable to resist, you pulled him closer to drink it from the source as he pressed in, breaching your entrance and stretching you around him.

He buried himself to the hilt inside you, pressing firmly against your cervix and allowing you to pant against his mouth as his tongue flicked uncertainly against yours. A strange feeling overtook you and you came suddenly, head falling back against the nest as convulsions shook your body. The entrance to your womb opened and you could feel lots of small, gelatinous objects flood your insides. It prolonged your orgasm, making you whimper and shake against him as he gave you his eggs. As you started to come down, you registered him cooing softly to you, his organ retracting from your walls.

You went limp under him and he waited as your breathing returned to normal, stroking your face and humming softly. He tried to mimic your kissing, pressing his lips flatly to your skin and intermittently licking your cheeks and lips. You sought out his hand and held it tightly, craving more of his touch.

He gripped your hand, purring excitedly as he readied himself again, swiping his tip against your folds before pressing in. You whined into his mouth as he began to thrust, quickly getting excited and throwing his previous caution to the wind. His hips slammed and ground against yours, thick hair at his base stimulating your clit.

You held onto him tightly, chests pressing together as you came again around him. He shuddered at the feeling of you clamping him so tightly, speeding up as his pace got more and more erratic. His length twitched and he started to leak copious amounts of precum, the excessive amount quickly filling you until it flowed out and created a sticky mess on your skin. Its warmth only served to push you over the edge again, your cunt spasming and creaming as you cried out.

Tears streamed down your face as you came again and again, constantly kept in a state of orgasm from his fluids. He groaned and purred, odd little chirps sounding from his throat as he mercilessly fucked you deeper into his nest, spurred on by your sounds and tears and the incessant clinging of your pussy.

“Good girl,” he panted, nearly thrashing with how violently he took you, “good mate,” he drooled, eyes rolling back as his words devolved into nonsense. If you’d been more coherent you’d have thought it was cute. His antennae twitched and he groaned loudly, slamming himself in as hard and deep as possible as he spilled his seed into your open, already flooded womb. His whole body jerked and then he went limp, still filling you as you milked him with a final orgasm so intense your vision was lost for a moment.

You both trembled, holding each other close as you took shaky breaths. He was still buried deep inside, his overstimulated cock resting soft in the mess he’d made of your innards. Stuck together with sweat and spit and cum, you reciprocated his clinging the best your spent body was able. He slowly peeled his face out of your neck and “kissed” you, pressing his slightly ajar mouth over yours. You took his face in your hands as you returned the gesture, trying to teach him how as your tongues tangled together.

With his soft demeanor returned, he gently slid himself out of you, both of you softly whimpering at the sensitive touch. You pushed back some of his sweat-slicked hair from his forehead and he smiled at you. The sound of his purr and the soft movements of his antennae made you less and less concerned about your car and everything else left behind if you stayed. The scent of his skin and the soft, breathy kisses he gave you added to the insignificance of your life before, until you didn’t care about anything besides him.

Well him, but also the babies you’d give him.

[plutonianrising]

while the cat’s away a.k/k.k

pairing: akaashi x kenma x f!reader

wc: 4.5k

description: akaashi shouldn’t have left his two brats home alone for so long

a/n: this was v much inspired by that “i think you deserve two boyfriends” tiktok so thank that guy for this

cw: fem!reader, dom!akaashi, switch!reader, switch!kenma, established poly relationship, safe word check-ins, rules, overstimulation, degradation, humiliation, threesome, cum-eating, aftercare implied

MINORS DNI PLS

Sometimes it can get boring when it’s just you and Kenma at home for the day. You know he’s usually busy streaming and it's usually fine since Keiji keeps you entertained. However, this morning Keiji insisted on handling the grocery shopping alone, saying it’d just be a quick in-and-out trip and he didn’t want Kenma to wake up left by himself. It was hours later now and Kenma had kissed you good morning and swiftly turned to his games. Even on his “day off” he’s playing with some of his friends. You’re kicking yourself now for having recently bought his current fixation. 

“Kyaaannmaaaa” you whine loudly and flop onto his lap. He doesn’t even acknowledge you as he moves his controller closer to his face. It’s almost like you’re not even there. You wouldn’t even be sure that he noticed you if it weren’t for the faint furrow in his brows and grimace on his lips. 

“Kenma you’ve been playing since you woke up. Can’t you take a little break? I don’t even think I’ve seen you eat yet,” you try to command even just a bit of his attention.

“I’m not hungry.” He grumbles. “And can’t you see I’m in the middle of a match? I can’t just leave whenever.” 

Your pouting turns to a full-blown scowl as his eyes leave his game for a moment to peek down at you; he realizes how quickly you’re reaching the threshold of your patience.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry. I know you hate when I play on my days off. Just sit in my lap and we’ll go do something else once this round finishes.” He backtracks. You roll your eyes but maneuver yourself so that you're straddling him with his arms around your waist and yours around his shoulders. You lean your head in the crook of his neck, gaining comfort from the smell of his shampoo even while your boyfriend is annoying the shit out of you. 

“You said one more match like 3 matches ago. I thought we had a rule about lying.” You say even though you know he really isn’t listening to you. You can faintly hear one of his friends talking in his headset. You thread your fingers through his grown-out hair absent-mindedly and open your phone with your other hand to text Keiji.

Kenma broke a rule. I’m gonna punish him. See you when you get home x

You’ve barely sent the message before you’re pressing down on his lap a little harder. You wiggle your ass as if feigning trying to get comfortable. You shift Kenma’s headset so that he can hear you whisper in his ear.

“Kenmaaa…” You trail off. “What happened to no lying hmm?” He stiffens and a cruel smile creeps its way onto your face. You place a hand on his chest and continue playing with his hair with the other, trying to coax him. You both know he can’t say anything with his friends on the other side and you relish in the fiery glare he shoots you.

You love how easy Kenma is to fluster. A breathy whisper against his neck. A sharp nip at his neck. It takes little to nothing to set him off. Even when you’re being punished and are forced to simply watch Keiji take him relentlessly. Kenma is breathtaking to you. When he’s annoying you. When he’s shyly grabbing your hand or Keiji’s to fall asleep. When he’s fucked out beyond recognition. At this point you’re probably obsessed over even the red that tints his ears when he begins getting overwhelmed. 

Sometimes you have to pay for your teasing but you know today at least, you’re fully in command. You know Kenma is too stubborn to shut off his game in the middle of a match with everyone on. After 3 years with him and Keiji, you know he’s a high-risk-high-reward kind of person. He was going to try his hardest to get through whatever you put him through without making a sound. Double or nothing.

“You remember how to tell me to stop, right?” You whisper again and press a kiss to his ear. Kenma nods.

“Hmm I wonder if I should make you say it out loud with everyone on call? Yea they’d think it’s random but better safe than sorry right?” You tease him. He shivers and goosebumps appear on his skin as you lightly drag your nails up his neck. He grunts softly and rolls his hips up to press against you. His eyes are begging you to drop that idea. Your wicked smile grows and you peck his lips. 

“You’re right baby. There’s already plenty of time to embarrass you. Don’t forget to talk to your friends on call Kenma. Wouldn’t want them thinking something happened to you.” You chuckle darkly.

You place your hands under his shirt and slowly slide up until you reach his nipples. They’re already hard from the chill of your room paired with his thin t-shirt. You press against one, softly toying with it with the pad of your finger. You watch as he tries to remain stone faced. His ears are a dead giveaway, though. You kiss all over his neck as he responds to someone. They’re feather-soft teases. You want him to have to beg to be marked by you.

“Kenma you’re so greedy..” You growl and pinch his nipple. He startles a bit at the surprise but quickly regains his composure. “You wanted this didn’t you? Too shy to say outright you wanted me to fuck you while you played?”

 “Or is it that you just like riling me up?” You tease him by grinding down onto his hardening dick. You roll both his nipples between your fingertips now, occasionally pinching them.

“Wanted the best of both worlds and even while I’m giving it to you, you can’t even be bothered to make those cute sounds you know I like so much.” You sigh, feigning sadness. You grind against him harder as you play with his nipples. You tease him further by kissing up his neck. It’s hard not to relish in his slight trembles when you blow cool air against his ear. While your focus is mostly on pleasuring Kenma, you cannot help the soft sighs that escape you. Seeing him struggle to control the stuttering of his hips only eggs you on. 

“How loud do you think I can be before they can all hear me?” You smirk and let out a quiet moan. Kenma’s eyes widen in panic and he slaps a hand over your mouth quickly. You slowly lick his palm while you maintain eye contact. His golden eyes are transfixed on yours, searching for any measure of mercy. He was kidding himself thinking he would find any. Many sessions with Keiji had trained you to follow through when you committed to something. 

Kenma slowly pulls his hand away from your face and you lean in closer. Your lips are just barely brushing against his as you mutter “Either you beg for me with everyone on the call. Or I just keep cumming by myself.”

He knows it’s a promise and not a threat. In terms of stamina, you have always had him beat, making over stimulating him a pretty frequent occurrence. At the beginning he and Keiji would switch out when it got to be too much for him but you two quickly learned that even with tears streaming down his face, his one thought is to satisfy you. You grab his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks a little. With the other you cover his mic. “What’s our word so I know you know it?” 

“It’s peaches. I’m ok. I want this,” he rushes out quietly, growing even redder. It’s this neediness that you so deeply craved. Kenma was quiet but he wasn’t exactly shy. When he really wanted something, he would push past his reservations to get it. And finally, right now, he wants you more than anything else. 

You finally kiss him deeply and Kenma reciprocates eagerly. To your content, his hips roll harder against you when your tongue enters his mouth. 

“Kenma? Why aren’t you moving, let’s go!” You hear someone say. You pull away from Kenma so that he can answer and he furrows his brow, obviously not ready for it to be over.

“Lev maybe if you quit worrying about what I’m doing you’d get more kills.” He quietly snips. You wince and giggle at his harsh tone, almost feeling bad about being the reason behind his expression. You lean close so you can speak into Kenma’s mic and as you talk you’re also taking a beat to fully appreciate how flushed and pretty Kenma looks. His mouth is wet and slightly pink and though his eyes are half-lidded he’s looking at you with full expectancy. It’s enough to pierce your heart. You aren’t sure if you’re actually punishing him or spoiling him rotten.

“Sorry about that boys” You giggle into the mic. Kenma’s mouth twitches downward a little when he hears how his friends’ react to your voice on mic. “Please forgive Kenma, I distracted him a little.” 

You don’t really pay attention to how they respond, turning your focus to slipping off Kenma’s boxers and your panties. You toss them somewhere across the room. As you slick Kenma’s dick with your wetness, it crosses your mind that Keiji could come home at any moment. You haven’t even looked to see how Keiji responded to your text. You’re probably screwed if he told you to wait until he gets back but you can’t focus on that with Kenma looking at you so eagerly, using every inch of his self-control to not fuck up into you.

Placing him at your entrance, you hold his gaze as you slide onto him. You take him all the way, forcing yourself to be just as quiet as he is. You let him try and focus on his game as you slowly roll your hips, silently screaming at how full he makes you feel. You fixate on the way his brows furrow and his breath quietly hitches. Kenma’s face is fully flushed as you ride him, not willing to give in or lose his game. You smirk and turn around slightly to look at his game. It brings you a weird sense of satisfaction that, even though he’s playing like normal, his dick is already twitching like he’s close. 

“Kyanma when’d you get so sensitive?” you tease quietly. “You been secretly touching yourself recently? Huh?”

“I-I” he begins to stutter out indignantly, trying not to pant too loudly. You cover the mic one more time. “I w-wouldn’t dare. J-just feels too good.”

You continue rolling your hips, reaching up with your other hand to palm your own breast. You don’t even try to resist the tightness building inside you. You let out a low moan as you shudder around him, your walls clenching around Kenma’s dick so deliciously that you can see the air choked in his throat as he stifles his own moans. As promised, you fuck him through your orgasm. His trembling makes it so much harder for you to relent. You want him to cum so badly, forcing you to turn off his game and fuck him until he’s a sobbing mess. 

He does so almost as soon as the almost obsessive thought crosses your mind. He holds you tight against him and buries his face in your collar, biting down hard in a final act of defiance. You yank Kenma’s head back by his hair and he’s glaring at you like his face and chest aren’t completely flushed and his pupils aren’t blown out. You let go of his hair and simply smirk and your anger makes it so much more fun to force shut down his computer. 

You wrap a hand around his neck and squeeze. “Kenma’s been such a naughty fucking kitty today haven’t you?” 

You slam down on his dick again and Kenma moans loudly this time. You aren’t sure if it’s from the pain of being overstimulated or simply the fact that he no longer faces the threat of embarrassment. Regardless, you know he’s going to be begging for that feeling again by the time you’re through with him.

You hear the front door of your apartment open and the familiar jangle of Keiji’s keys and soft footsteps. Keiji’s home but he puts the groceries away first. You know this is him giving you both time to collect yourselves and be on your knees somewhere for punishments. You know this but Kenma doesn’t look keen on moving and your heart is already beating in anticipation at how much further you could take this.

You hear Keiji’s footsteps grow louder and in seconds he’s right in front of you, analyzing what he’s seeing: an unplugged computer, Kenma slowly regaining his composure, and you right in his lap, lazily looking over at him with a smug little smile on your face. 

“Hey baby.” You can tell from one look what Keiji told you in response to your text. You can't help the way your body shudders in expectancy as he stares at you sternly. You kiss Kenma’s neck gently as you meet Keiji’s gaze, knowing full well you won’t be ready for the punishments he will be handing out.

“You had no intention of listening to me, did you?” Keiji says fondly as he walks over and stands behind you. He slides his hands around you: one pulling your against him, the other guiding your head up. His touch is gentle, his fingers moving you more so as a suggestion than a command. You struggle to keep your eyes open and on his beautiful features. Dark hair that curls in the strangest spots fell slightly forward. The sharpness in his deep blue eyes contrasts the loving way he strokes your cheek.

“Mmm… not really. Mmsorry ‘Kaashi but it’s so… much easier to just ask you for forgiveness. You’re so sweet to us.” Your words slur a bit and you smile up at your other boyfriend. You secretly wonder if you’re making the right call by pushing his buttons further. But oh well.

“Oh it's so much easier is it?” Keiji asks, his voice takes on an icy tone. He finally glances towards Kenma, slightly dazed as he watches you both. “Kenma do you agree?” 

You all know that no matter what Kenma says, he’s already in deep shit for going along with you. However, there is still a right and wrong answer. He could either a) agree and punish you with Keiji and receive a lighter punishment or b) side with you. The two of you make eye contact as he weighs his options. Memories of you sandwiched between them, mind hazy as they treated you like little more than a toy flood you. You vividly remember the time Keiji sent you over the edge repeatedly while you choked on Kenma’s dick, tears forming from how desperate for air you were. And the way they gazed down at you with your panties shoved in your mouth, so fully focused on making you scream that you feel like you’d been caught by two beasts.

You would never openly admit how much option A makes your mouth water but you don’t have to. Kenma doesn’t miss the way your thighs try to squeeze together, only to be met by his in between. Or the way your breathing has slightly picked up again. Or how you tightened around his still-sensitive dick the moment the thought crossed your mind.

“Yea ‘Kaashi… you’ve been really nice lately.” Kenma looks between you both and smiles before pressing close and embracing you. He holds onto part of your shirt and nuzzles into your neck. You don’t care if he was saying we’re in this together or I'm not letting you get all the attention after you ruined my game. Regardless, you still get to see Kenma trembling right next to you with puffy lips slightly parted, ready to beg, ready to need, ready to please.

Keiji stifles a laugh behind you, covering it quickly before petting both you and Kenma’s hairs. “I didn’t realize I’d been so gracious to my little brats. I guess that means you think it’s finally my turn for a reward?”

“What do you want us to do Master?” You ask coyly. 

“Well for one I want you two properly seated somewhere on the floor.” Keiji says coldly. He moves away and you and Kenma quickly take your places. On your knees. Eyes expectant.

“Kitty you look like she put you through hell” Keiji coos at Kenma, looking down at him while he strokes his cheek. You huff.

“I didn’t even-”

“Did I say you could speak sweetheart?” Keiji cuts off your attempt to explain and you know better to try any further. He doesn’t even need to look towards you to keep you in check “Kenma. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened.”

“S-she got mad at me for being on my game so long that she rode me while my mic was on and wouldn’t let me c-cum unless I… begged with everyone on the line.” Kenma looks up at Keiji pleadingly. 

“And did you?” Keiji prods. 

“D-did I?” Kenma splutters in surprise. The red flush on his body seems permanent at this point.

“Well you obviously came. I can still see it leaking out of her all over our floor. So. Did you beg?” Keiji doesn’t let Kenma avoid his gaze, leaning forward with a firm grip on his cheeks.

“N-no.” 

“No. Instead you bit her.” 

Of course he noticed that.

“So let me see if I got this right. Instead of accepting your punishment like a good boy or conceding… you decided to take advantage of her kindness and my absence. God it’s like you want that pretty ass of yours lashed until you can’t even sit in your gaming chair.”

Kenma takes in a sharp inhale, trembling slightly. You gulp in turn, knowing that even though Kenma was worse, you aren’t safe from reprimand either.

Keiji fixes his sharp gaze on you and finally acknowledges you. “Did I agree to letting you punish Kenma?”

“No Sir.” You answer quietly, trying to keep the shivers threatening to expose your excitement at bay. 

“Take off your shirt and lie on the bed.” He sighs and begins unbuttoning his shirt. You do as you’re told, removing your oversized sweater as you climb onto the king-sized mattress.

“It seems that I’ve been too lenient with the both of you so really the fault lies with me. Allow me to take responsibility for that now.” Keiji says. He stands before you and takes in your form, surely noting how much you’re quivering before lifting and spreading your knees, leaving you on full display. He turns back to Kenma. 

“Kitty you should take this chance to properly apologize. Come clean up the mess you made.”

Kenma is just as compliant, quick to kneel where Keiji orders him right in front of your dripping pussy. He can’t even attempt a front, immediately capturing your clit in his mouth. You moan and buck a little at the sudden sensation.

“Easy there Kitty. Take your time.” Keiji chides softly. Kenma hums in response and opts to lick a long stripe against you instead. He tries his hardest to pace himself as he mouths you, gently pushing his tongue in between your folds. 

Keiji opens your bedside table and grabs a bottle of lube, squirting some on his own hand and onto Kenma’s ass. You feel the shiver that rips through Kenma as the cold gel runs down him. He takes a quick second to let out a shuddering breath but doesn’t dare look back. You, however, fully stare as Keiji gingerly begins fucking Kenma with his middle finger. Kenma quakes at the feeling and Keiji revels at the sight of you two and how your moans and his combine in the air and fill the room. 

“Baby you’re so shameless” Keiji mewls “taking so much pleasure from all the chaos you caused.”

You can’t even argue his point. Every thought of disagreeing had left your head the moment Kenma’s lips had touched your throbbing pussy. All you can do is whine in response.

Keiji doesn’t take his eyes off of you when puts his hand on the back of Kenma’s head and presses him down further. “Make sure you get all the way inside. Only bad boys leave someone else to clean up after them.”

Kenma simply whimpers in response and thrusts his tongue inside you, trying his hardest to move his hips to meet Keiji’s pace at the same time. You can tell Keiji’s purposely changing it to make it harder for him. You continue to tense up helplessly and barely contain your writhing with the very last bits of control over yourself. You know better than to cum right now but the waves of pleasure rushing over you and the sight Keiji fingering Kenma open are quickly clouding your brain.

“Please...” you beg, aching for release. Keiji looks up at you and smiles softly, an utter betrayal when his next words leave his lips.

“Kenma, stop now.” 

You both whine and turn your attention to Keiji, facial expressions mirroring each other. He pets Kenma’s hair and plants two quick kisses on his wet mouth. You sit up and pout.

“Keiji, Sir, please, I wanna cum so badly.” You beg, head spinning a bit from the sudden loss.

“Oh so now you acknowledge that I’m in charge.” He says and moves to kiss your cheek next, He places feather light kisses against your jaw as you whine and whimper in protest. Drawing close to your ear, he whispers icily “I have half the mind to fuck your pretty little throat so raw you wouldn’t be able to speak for weeks without regretting testing me. But I’m sweet, remember? So listen before I forget that.”

All your dissent dies in your throat and you stiffen. 

“Ready to be a good little girl for me now?” He inquires in his normal tone. It’s almost scary how easily he can flip between the two. All you can do is nod and accept the deep kiss he offers as a reward, moaning into his mouth. “Good, now get on the floor next to Kenma. Wanna see you two suck me off.”

You quickly do as you’re told and sit on your knees next to Kenma while Keiji slides off his pants and underwear. With Keiji sitting on the bed in between you, you let a thick glob of spit fall on his dick and work it down with your hand, slowly stroking him. Kenma positions himself and takes Keiji’s head in between his lips, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks him down.

“You two have been so naughty today and now look at you..” Keiji says breathily and pushes your hair back away from your faces. “Sharing my dick so nicely with each other.” 

You and Kenma kiss sloppily around the head of his dick, letting your tongues coat Keiji further in spit. Even though you and Kenma bicker more often, the one thing you two agree on without fail is that Keiji looks the hottest when you service him together. It’s how his eyes focus fully on the looks you give him, full of trust and devotion. How he’s always sure to praise equally as he grips whatever or whoever is nearest to gain some kind of grounding. 

“Neither of you is getting my dick today... but you can make each other cum. Should be enough, right? Since you two were so impatient you couldn’t even wait for me.” Keiji teases in between his groans. You try to shove down your disappointment as you use your free hand to reach for Kenma’s dick. You pump him in time with the rhythm you manage to form with Keiji’s large dick in your throat. Your eyes burn but you try to keep down your gags and moans as Kenma starts rubbing your clit fervently, wanting instead to clearly hear how he and Keiji sound. His touch is vengeful, a punishment for putting him in this mess and you nearly see stars from the feeling of his sticky fingers circling your most sensitive spots.

“P-please Sir, t-this time I really can’t hold it,” Kenma whimpers, looking utterly destroyed with tears clinging to his lashes and a trail of spit still connecting him to Keiji’s dick. 

“If you think you can keep servicing us while you cum then go ahead baby, but you better keep moving.” Keiji permits and it’s all Kenma needs to cry out and shoot out ropes of his cum all over your hand. He continues his ministrations against you and Keiji and soon it’s your own hips that are stuttering. You do not have Kenma’s level of control so you try to shove down your incoming orgasm. 

“I need you to cum Sir please, please please. I-I won’t last. Please I want you to cover us with your sticky cum” you beg. You look up at him from under your lashes as you go back to mouthing him and feel him throb in between your lips.

“Yes Sir pleaseee. Want your cum all over.” Kenma adds, his words slurring together. If he couldn’t focus on both speaking and pleasuring his partners he would simply put his all into the latter.

“Want my cum? Want Sir to make a mess all over those pretty little faces?” Keiji groans, bucking his hips into your mouth.

“God yes please.. Please!” Kenma continues and Keiji takes his dick out of his mouth to stroke himself over your faces. Kenma is steadily bringing you to your own edge and you both can’t help but open your mouths in hopes to catch Keiji’s cum on your tongue while you orgasm. With a shout, Keiji begins cumming, spurting all over you and Kenma. 

“Go ahead sweetheart, fucking cum right now” Keiji hisses and you convulse as you finally let go, holding onto his leg as your orgasm rips through you. It’s hard to focus on anything besides how easily Keiji and Kenma make you feel like you’re in heaven. 

“Now.. have we all learned our lessons?” Keiji utters once he’s down from his high. The sight of Kenma and you leaning against his legs for support makes his heart swell. 

“Yes.. Sir.” You two manage to get the words out. 

“See I knew my little ones were smart.” He coos gingerly moves to first pick you up and place you onto the bed and then Kenma before grabbing wet wipes. “Now let’s get you all cleaned up.”

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

you’re someone i just want around: IV

“I had a few, got drunk on you

And now I’m wasted

And when I sleep, I’m gonna dream of 

How you tasted.”

— Medicine, Harry Styles

A/N: if i said i’m apologizing for the way i left off ch3, yes i did ❤️ no i didn’t ❤️ it was fun ❤️ as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! and if you enjoy the piece, please reblog it!!! it keeps content creators motivated!! without further delay, hope you enjoy what’s in store for Sherlock and Watson this chapter cause it’s uhhhh quite a bit of uhhhh ~stuff~ 😌

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

word count: 26.4k

content/warnings: a mild addiction to sexting, some pretty sparkly lingerie, a very interesting photo, a strange but satisfying gift, rough sex and degradation, pillow talk about the validity of the men in Twilight, the satisfying gift being put to even more good use, Y/N going over to Harry’s apartment for the first time, mild mentions of blood, and an impromptu Hamilton re-enactment amidst more lemon blueberry pancakes

///

For the next three days, the sexting grows more frequent. 

Harry feels somewhat humiliated by it, really. He’s an adult— a full-grown, two hundred and nine year old man— and trading nudes with a simple girl shouldn’t be getting him as worked up as it does. He should know how to handle his hormones better, and the thing is, he usually does. But no one in the last few centuries has made him feel as desperate as Y/N does; he hasn’t felt this helpless for someone since he was alive. The vampire just wasn’t prepared to handle the needy responses she so easily yields from his body and he’s horribly rusty on how to skate this thin sheet of metaphorical ice. It’s like he can feel it cracking and crunching beneath his feet, but he has absolutely no power over how to stop it. Any minute, it’s bound to take him under, and he has no choice but to allow himself to drown in it. 

The following seventy two hours are full of so many dirty promises and explicit images, his phone might as well be a porno hard drive.

After coaxing Y/N into a few orgasms through the phone and receiving just as many in return, a dangerous game is set into motion that Harry knows is probably unhealthy not only for his self-worth, but for the sensitivity of his anatomy. He can only get off so many times before his joints are begging for a break. 

He wakes up Wednesday morning with a stiff ache running along his inner thighs and ebbing across the underside of his balls, but there’s an undeniable contentment stewing behind it. He doesn’t truly mind the throb, comforted by the fact that Y/N is probably facing similar issues at the moment. He finds himself smiling coyly as he flips an omelette onto one of his marble-print platters, recalling the events from the night before. 

According to what he’d heard on the other end of the phone, present throughout the array of shaky gasps, cracked whimpers, and wet sounds of pleasure that had echoed from the speaker, Harry had made Y/N squirt. 

That was a tremendous stroke to his already huge ego. The idea that he’d been able to make her cum so hard that she’d soiled her brand new sheets had been circling around his head for the last couple of hours, fluffing his confidence. It’s a milestone achievement, to be honest. He’d done something that very few men have the skill to achieve in person, meanwhile he’d done it just by using his voice and extensive imagination. The arrogance he’s sporting right now is more than justified. His cheeks are starting to ache from how hard he’s grinning.

The vampire is so lost in his recollections that he nearly misses the chime of his phone, the unique ringtone that beeps out being as welcomed as ever. 

Harry scoops up his device while spooning a piece of his green pepper and mushroom egg dish into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully as he swipes into Y/N’s text conversation. He smoothers the giddiness fluttering in his stomach; he’s not a child. 

As it turns out, he’d killed those butterflies for no solid reason because the instant her message pops up, they come right back to life. 

Morning! Thought I’d show you what I’m planning on wearing to work today. 

Harry roughly swallows down his breakfast at the attachment following the caption, a shiver coiling down his spine. “Fucking hell.”

The photo is a mirror shot, taken in her tiny bathroom. It’s a full body image where she’s clad in a matching set of bra and panties, the material sparkly bright red lace. The bottoms are high-waisted, hugging her tummy and hips in a way he deems perfect, the lace decorating her skin beautifully. The bra is see-through, so he has an unrestrained view of her chest and he doesn’t know why, but he thinks he might love the way her breasts look in lingerie more than without it. Make no mistake, he’ll willingly drool over her no matter what, but there’s just such a refined beauty in seeing her figure in such an elegant piece. She’s like a present set out for him to unwrap, preferably with his teeth. 

Then he notices the garters and the next forkful of food lodges in his throat. They hug around her legs deliciously, the bands settled midway down her thighs as the straps run up the sides and clip onto the hem of her panties. Yeah, he would definitely use his teeth. 

After gawking at the artwork for a minute, Harry finally gathers himself enough to type back a decent reaction.

I’m pretty sure that outfit doesn’t apply to the workspace dress code. 

Y/N shakes her head in amusement at his response, giggling softly as she finishes shimmying into her black skinny jeans, buttoning them over the skimpy lace. 

I’ll cover up for the sake of the customers. But it’s just such a nice set, I figured someone else should get to appreciate it with me.  

Harry sets his utensil down on top of his plate, omelet only half eaten. His appetite has molded into a very different type of hunger. He pads out of the kitchen, feeling the ten AM sunlight filter through the glass wall of his living room and warm his bare chest and back. He heads for the bathroom that branches out of the entrance corridor, coming to a stop right in front of its mirror. He begins to clean up his appearance, combing his bed head into a presentable state (he hadn’t slept, per usual, but rolling around his pillows last night while he indulged fantasies about Y/N had done his curls in something fierce), fixing his royal blue briefs along his hips and dragging the waistband down to show off the dip of his prominent pelvic bones.

Once the immortal is done, he taps back with eager strokes of his thumbs. 

I can’t believe you’ve never worn that for me. That’s a criminal offense. Literally worth capital punishment. 

Oh, really? Capital punishment? And who are you to decide my verdict?

I’m the executioner, obviously. I’m in charge of dispensing the verdict and I promise you, I’ll see to it that you get what you deserve. It’s my civic duty.

Y/N scoffs at his quip, tugging her navy polo shirt over her torso and quickly running a brush through her hair. She puts it up into a neat ponytail, sighing lightly as she stares at her tired reflection. She wishes she could ditch work for the day and entertain more conversation with Harry, but she literally can’t afford to.

Well, you’re gonna have to wait while I go perform my own type of civic duty. Making the world a better place, one grilled panini at a time. 

Harry’s lips jolt. She’s so clever and witty, he doesn’t know how she could possibly be from such a dull, monochrome town. 

I understand. Justice calls. But before you go, can I send you a picture of what I’M wearing today? Could use a few style tips. 

That’s pretty ironic coming from someone whose last name is literally ‘Styles.’

I know, I know. But even fashion icons have their insecurities sometimes. 

Fair point, nobody’s perfect. Lemme see your OOTD, then.

The outfit of the day appears to be no outfit at all, according to Harry’s picture. It’s taken on a mirror, like her own, and it depicts him standing with one hand holding his phone in front of his face while the other seems to be doing jazz hands down his body playfully. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of deep blue briefs (probably because he’d completely ruined the maroon pair he was wearing last night, if his broken moans and heavy panting had been any indication) and they hug his frame flawlessly. The fabric is bunched around his lean thighs, tiger head tattoo peeking out to accompany the rest of the collection, which includes all the inkings running the length of his left arm as well as the butterfly and swallows across his torso. His v-line is evident as ever, dipping below the elastic band teasingly. His chest is broad and his biceps are taut, despite the fact that he’s not even flexing. He looks like a Greek statue and Y/N is positive the higher powers designed Harry with that specific thought in mind.

Y/N doesn’t realize drool is gathering in her mouth until it tickles the inside of her bottom lip. She snaps her jaw closed, clearing her throat sheepishly. Over a minute has passed of her just ogling and she can feel heat layering across her cheeks. She knows Harry probably has the cockiest expression on his face at the moment, obvious in the tone of the next comment he delivers. 

Damn, it’s that bad, huh? Guess I’ll have to change. 

No, it’s perfect. Simple, but effective. Very professional. 

Why, thank you! 

My pleasure.

Here, take this as a token of my appreciation. Hopefully it can help get you through the day. 

This specific photo is taken from an above point of view, as if Y/N were looking down at Harry’s body along with him. His pectorals and stomach muscles appear more defined, tattoos darker and skin more evidently sunkissed. Lower down, there’s the obvious outline of what lies within his boxers, snuggled up against his thick thigh and tempting her to let out a soft whine. Then, resting casually against his abdomen is his free hand, sporting a thumbs-up that gives a purposefully goofy vibe to the risky image. He’s such an idiot. 

The mortal’s answer is just as silly and lighthearted as his gesture. 

Thank you, I’ll keep it locked in my heart forever. 

I wouldn’t want it any other way. 

That’s the first interaction of many that further opens the door to their virtual sex life. Things hardly stay that innocent. 

That night when Y/N gets home from work, they undergo another round of phone sex. It starts off the same: cheeky banter that leads to cheeky pictures that eventually leads to utter filth. 

And that’s how they spend the next few days— taking care of each other’s needs digitally until Friday rolls around. There’s plenty of those encounters, but there’s definitely favorites. 

A session during one of Harry’s self-care baths, when he puts her on speaker and she talks him through tugging one out while the scent of lavender salts— which he’d chosen because they smell like her— leave his heated skin feeling soft and supple. Another instance where he makes her orgasm while she has gotten bored watching a scary movie marathon on her couch, the screams of the horror film mere background noise compared to all the sweet nothings Harry huskily mumbles into her ear, his dominant voice filtering through her headphone and instructing her on how to make herself feel good.

Harry messages her at three A.M. at one point, wide awake as ever, all of his thoughts occupied by the concept of Y/N laying on her tummy between his thighs and sucking him off at a slow pace. He can practically see her small hands wrapped around his girth, stroking up to meet her pretty lips, her tongue lapping at his tip eagerly as she whines around a full mouth. She’s always just so eager. Even at the crack of dawn, she’s awake by some miracle, and happily willing to delve into that fantasy with him. Her soft, timid tone drifts across the shells of his ears, explicitly sketching out how she’d take him all the way down her throat until she gags, and how she’d kiss all over the head of his prick just to smear his precum over her lips to then lick it off, and how she’d rock against his lap fast and hard while he takes her nipples between his teeth. How she wouldn’t stop until he’s dripping down her thighs and groaning into her throat. How she’d let him fuck her as many times as it takes to tire himself out. 

Harry obviously repays her, and it comes in the form of him painting out a scenario where she’s gotten home from a long day at the café. He tells her about how he’d be there waiting for her in nothing but his underwear, sitting back on his elbows in her bed, touching himself over his briefs just at the thought of pleasuring her. About how he’d lay her out and taste every inch of her body with his tongue, and how he’d run his teeth across her inner thighs tenderly while his fingers play with her clit, and how he’d have her ride his face deep and sloppy until she’s shaking and sensitive. How he’d tie her to the bed and toss her legs over his shoulders while he pounds her into the mattress, marking bruises across her neck as she sucks on his fingers and tightens around his cock like “the snug little thing you are.”

They even take their fun out of the confines of their houses and into public settings, just to give it an adrenaline high. Those situations are foreplay; it’s how they prep each other throughout the day for when they’re both finally alone and can truly help one another to the fullest. 

It happens Thursday on two occasions. 

First, to Y/N, who is sitting in the backroom on her lunch break, though she’s barely touched her food. She’s much more interested in what Harry has to say. Much more interested in how he says he wishes he could be there with her right now. That she could sneak him in through the back door of the restaurant and they could lock themselves in that tiny supply room, making sure no one would disturb what he’s about to do to her. That he would drop to his knees and drag her jeans down her legs, pressing damp kisses in the denim’s wake, biting hickies in the areas he knows she loves to receive them. He would mount her knees over his shoulders and bury his face between her thighs, looking up at her through heavy lashes as he licks into her desperately. He would have her grab onto his curls and guide his tongue just the way she likes it, and she’d have to bite into her cheek to keep from getting caught. 

He talks about how he’d take her against the supply shelves, one hand clamped over her mouth while he pants praise into her ear, her body jolting roughly upwards against the surface as she clings to his back. How he’d hold her up with the other arm and slam her down onto his cock, cooing things like, “Gotta keep quiet for me, sweetheart. Can’t make you cum if we get caught.” and “Such a filthy girl, sneaking me in here just to fuck you. Baby just wants to walk around the rest of the day full of me, doesn’t she?” 

That fantasy leaves her in a bothered haze the rest of the work day. It’s bad enough that she almost drops her tray three different times and has to ask multiple customers to repeat their orders. 

Y/N gets back at Harry, though. That revenge is the second occasion. 

The vampire had mentioned that he would be going out with his friends that evening to a bar and she takes full advantage of that. When the picture comes through, Harry nearly spits out his Manhattan drink. 

He’s sitting in a booth surrounded by his entire group and he’d been talking shit with Niall about golf. The vampire doesn’t care for the sport, but Niall loves it, and Harry loves getting on Niall’s nerves, therefore it’s all pretty self-explanatory. Mitch and Adam join in, with Mitch obviously supporting Harry, when he randomly decides to check his notifications. Even in the shrunken little banner, Harry can immediately tell the photo is graphic. Xander asks if he’s alright, telling him he looks freakishly pale and to get his eyes under control because they're in public. Harry blinks the red from his irises, hurriedly excusing himself and clambering up from his seat, jetting across the restaurant towards the restrooms. It’s occupied, much to his luck, so he settles for simply pressing his back against the wall of the corridor, leaning his head against the bricks and taking deep breaths to calm the raging in his stomach. He gingerly opens the message and his knees nearly give out. 

The image is taken from the back, probably using a timer. Y/N is wearing one of her big tees and another pair of cheeky lace panties, but this time around, they’re pastel peach and crotchless. She’s bent over with her ass up and spine arched, knees parted for balance, her shirt bunching downwards due to the angle. Her arms are pulled behind her back and her chest is flushed to the bed, wrists crossed submissively as she gazes at the camera over her shoulder. There’s an unmistakable sparkle in her eyes and he can tell she had sent this now on purpose just to fuck with him, knowing good and well that he was out and occupied.

The shot is more than he can handle and he has to swallow down the urge to stomp out of the bar, get into his car, race to her flat, and make her rethink her decision. Preferably, in the form of harsh spanks and overstimulation. He can see everything— the intentional rip at the crotch of the panties are meant for that sole reason. The closer he looks, he comes to realize that she’s wet, which in turn means she had been touching herself. She’d set this up perfectly, knowing that he’d easily be able to deduce that fact and that it would haunt him for the rest of the night. 

The monster releases a quivering exhale, typing back slowly and carefully, sight bleary. 

You’re going to regret that. 

Pinky promise?

///

When Harry arrives at Y/N’s apartment the next night, as he has for the last three Fridays, he doesn’t saunter up to her door and bang on it angrily. He doesn’t grab her by her hair and drag her into her room, how he’d intended. He doesn’t even have a single cinch in his sculpted brows. 

Instead, he raps softly on the door with one jeweled knuckle and waits calmly. 

The human goes to answer, her stomach twisting in excitement at all the possibilities of what punishment she might face for her antics. A small, sly smile buckles the corners of her lips at the thought, her fingers trembling as they wrap around her cold doorknob. She expects to find a furrow-browed, intense-eyed, red-faced Harry behind the threshold, who would shove past her, nab her by the arm, and throw her onto her bed. She expects him to yank his belt from around his hips while a distinct darkness swallows his emerald irises, his mouth curling into a sinister grin. She expects him to roughly command she get on her hands and knees, his palm finding the back of her head to shove her face-first into the sheets while he rips her panties down her legs and drags the cool leather of his accessory over her backside tauntingly.

What she gets is something— and someone— completely the opposite. 

When her door swings open, Harry is standing standing there, sure. But instead of looming over her with flaring nostrils and cruel intent, he’s decided to lean against the door frame with his arms folded casually. His body is completely empty of tension, his ankles are crossed offhandedly, and a small, bright red paper bag full of sparkly black tissue paper is hanging off his wrist. His expression is a relaxed facade of indifference, lips set into his usual signature smirk, no explosive emotions present whatsoever. 

That startles Y/N. This has to be an act; it feels like the calm before a violent storm and it has her shifting in her socked feet. Did he...Did he forget what she did? 

There’s no way he forgot. It was too brazen a move to dismiss.

Harry steps forward into her home, comfortable enough that he no longer has to wait for an invitation. Y/N moves to the side to let him through, hesitantly closing the entrance behind him, contemplating the man as if he were a ticking bomb. She does a quick sweep of his physique, looking for some other clue as to what he could be plotting, aside from the mysterious gift bag in his hand. He’s wearing a pair of flared denim jeans, a white tee with a royal blue cartoon bee printed in the center along with the words Enjoy health! Eat your honey! surrounding it, his white Vans, and an oversized colorful patch-work cardigan. The outfit is surprisingly domestic compared to his usual taste, but she finds it’s easily one of her favorite fits on him. He just looks so boyish adorable. 

The human comes up with nothing suspicious, glancing back up to lock eyes with her guest. Harry beams at her innocently and she knows for sure he’s planning something, but she can’t place what. 

“I got you this.” The vampire speaks up first, holding out the paper bag towards Y/N with his index finger, bouncing it encouragingly. “Take a peek.” 

The girl accepts the gift gingerly, giving him one more hard look before breaking away to investigate what lies beneath the tissue paper. She pulls out a small cardboard box, her eyes squinting slightly as she reads its print and surveys the label. The image on the surface appears to be of five silicone finger gloves, each about the size of a thumbtack, tiny metal plates embedded into the pads. She’s voicing her curiosity before she’s even finished studying the container. 

“What...What are these?”

Harry rolls his eyes jokingly, tapping the object for emphasis. “Read the fine print, love.” 

Y/N focuses on the region he’d pointed out, reciting aloud. “‘Vibrating silicone finger gloves. For the use of personal pleasure or with partners.’”

Then it all clicks. 

“Oh my God, you got me— what?!” Y/N’s head snaps up in shock, mouth parted and brows creased. “Harry, what?”

The young man laughs airily, gently opening the seal of the box in her hands, which she is now holding as if it were a weapon of mass destruction. It’s such a weird present to give in general, moreso all out of the blue, so she can’t be blamed for her reaction.

He uncaps the packaging, rummaging through its contents and pulling out two of the tiny rubbery gloves. They’re transparent and ribbed, obviously meant to deliver as many sensations as possible, and they’re about two inches in length. He slips them onto his index and middle finger, making scissoring motions for the purpose of symbolism, but mainly just to watch Y/N fidget. “I remember how you said you don’t have sex toys because you’d never really thought about buying any, so I went and picked these up down at my favorite shop. Jessi said they’re good for beginners.”

“Jessi?” Y/N’s voice is tight. She’s not sure how to respond to this; she’s never been in this situation before. No one has ever just given her a sex toy as if a were a candy bar. “Who’s Jessi and why do they need to know about my sex life?”

“She’s the manager.” Harry says matter-of-factly. He doesn’t seem to find anything strange about this encounter. “She helped me pick out my first pocket vag, so I trust her with my soul. Here, look. You just slip them on and—” He makes finger thrusting motions in the air, wiggling his digits playfully. “Big O. Not as good as what I can give you, obviously, but close enough.”

“Harry, you do realize this is a little…odd, right?”

The boy blinks at Y/N blankly. “What? Why? Sex is literally the basis of this whole thing.” He signals back and forth between them with his gloved forefinger. “It’s really not that weird at all, if y’think about it.”

“I just...it’s like…” 

Her argument fizzles to an end the longer she stares at him. He has the most wholesome expression painted across his handsome features, his eyes glossy with excitement. He looks genuinely elated about the present and she can’t find it in herself to question him any further. As unorthodox as this may be, it’s the first true act of kindness anyone has shown Y/N since she had moved to California. It’s the first time anyone has given the girl anything without her having to request it. She comes to the realization that Harry really is the only friend she has at the moment, and she refuses to pick and prod at that, lest he retract from her on the grounds that she’s ungrateful. Yes, this is a little atypical, but so is their whole dynamic. In his own twisted way, this is how Harry shows his friendship. 

The more she ponders on it, she starts to understand that this truly is something she should accept. He went out of his way to get her this gift, which solidifies their acquaintanceship. It’s sweet.

“You know what, never mind. Thank you! I love them.” 

The giddy smile that cracks his face melts her heart. “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

Harry then softly grasps her hand with his, tugging her down the entrance hallway, his intentions set on her bedroom. His voice takes on a deeper sultry twang, the corners of his mouth twitching suggestively. “Because on my way here, I was thinking, yeah? And I figured: who better to teach you how to use these than the person who picked them out.”

“Of fucking course.” Y/N huffs in amusement, shaking her head but allowing herself to be guided forward. “I should’ve known you had an ulterior motive.” 

“Heyyyyy!” Harry’s whine is offended, but the coy simper dimpling his cheeks ruins any defense he could possibly try to spin. “This isn’t an ulterior motive, it’s simply a supporting one.”

“Right.” Y/N states flatly, shuffling forward slowly as he backs down her corridor, momentarily glancing over his shoulder to orient himself. “Buying a fuck buddy a sex toy is totally selfless and mutually exclusive of the agreement.”

Harry takes a turn and crosses the threshold into her bedroom, releasing her arm and instead, he opts for wrapping his fist into the loose material of her large Transformers tee, twisting the fabric around his knuckles and giving it a sharp yank. She stumbles into his chest and almost drops the box. 

The vampire gazes down at her with half-lidded eyes, long lashes tempting and plush lips the color of roses. “I never said it was mutually exclusive. I just said it wasn’t meant to be evidently inclusive.” 

He takes the box from her grip, sliding it onto her nightstand so that any obstacles between them are eliminated. He beckons her closer with a flick of his wrist, feeling heat erupt across his chest as her palms slap down against it to steady herself. She’s always so warm, almost like a furnace. It’s a nice contrast to his ever-present coldness.

Harry’s cupped fingers nurse the slope of her jaw, tilting her chin up to level his, Cupid’s bow ghosting over her own teasingly as a grin threatens to betray him. His accent is thick, heavy with condescension. “Now do you want me to fuck you or not?”

Y/N gulps audibly, the sudden jump in her heart rate causing Harry’s cock to give a foreshadowing twitch in his designer jeans. Her eyes soften with a form of weepy desire, head nodding in his grasp. 

Harry’s top teeth catch on his lower lip as he appraises her from over the crest of his defined cheekbones. “I don’t think I heard you, pet. Must be the AC draft.”

The mortal’s eyes fall shut as she composes herself, a shaky sigh faltering past her nostrils. She tips forward onto her toes, connecting her itching mouth to his. Harry allows it, listing his head to the side to grant her more access, his free arm roping across the dip of her spine and pressing her front flushed to his. The kiss is soft and heated, full of drunken tongues and muffled whimpers. It’s tame compared to most of the others they’ve shared, but Harry likes it. It’s sloppy and intimate; only the beginning of what he knows will be a long night. 

Her words sting the ridges of his lips, hot and bated. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Harry speaks into her mouth, tone gentle but packing a punch. “Get my belt off for me, will you? I’m tying you to the bed tonight.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice, a dark chuckle vibrating across his tongue when her fingers immediately begin to fumble with his belt buckle. 

Once Harry has looped the leather tightly around Y/N’s wrists and has knotted them to one of the wooden railings of her headboard, he sits back on his heels to admire his work. Y/N is splayed out across her mattress with her arms suspended above her head, bare thighs clasped in anticipation as her t-shirt gathers around her waist. Her hands are curled into fists, nails digging into her palms as she watches Harry leisurely shrug off his cardigan, keeping eye contact with her the whole way through. His tattoos stand out against the buttery light of the single lamp on the table, tanned arms flexing sinfully. 

He shifts around, laying down onto his stomach and coasting his palms up her quivering legs, kissing over her kneecaps and along the crease of her inner thighs, bunching her shirt further up her body as he goes. As soon as he spots the first garter, he blacks out for a millisecond, vision washing red. 

“Fuck, wait— did you…?” His voice is strained and desperate as he shoves the rest of her clothes up her torso, pulling her shirt over her head and letting it rest at her elbows. He hums appreciatively when he’s met with the full cherry-colored lingerie set from a few days ago, garters and all. “God, you did.”

Y/N’s gaze falls timidly, a sheepish smile brushing over her face. “I thought you’d want to see it in person, since you seemed to like it so much.” 

“Mm...” Harry struggles to swallow, fingers hooking under the straps that clip to the hem of her underwear, pulling the fabric from her skin and letting them snap back into place. He revels in the tiny noise she lets slip, the pads of his digits now toying across the frilly bands encircling her upper legs. After a thoughtful heartbeat, Harry speaks up, wistful but vehement. “I’m going to make you soil your sheets again.” 

Y/N bucks a tad at his promise, wrists stressing against the leather belt, but Harry’s practiced enough bondage in his lifetime to know she won’t be getting out anytime soon. He parts her knees open with his palms, dragging his silicone-covered fingers down her clothed clit and tutting when she lets out a stuttery gasp. 

“Always so sensitive, aren’t you, angel?” The vampire pets at her core patiently, heat pooling at the base of his abdomen as he feels her panties damped with every stroke of his touch. “Christ, you’re already soaking through.”  

“Want more.” The girl’s plead is strangled as she actively forces herself to keep her legs wide open, knowing that if she were to allow them to snap shut, Harry would only pry them apart again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week. Please.”

“All week?” Harry drags tongue across the inside of her thigh, nipping at the flesh tauntingly, the amber specks in his eyes glittering amidst his lashes. He continues to rub through her underwear, drinking up all the little noises streaming from her throat. “Tread lightly, dove. You’re swelling my ego.”

“I just…” Her hips give another jerk when he wriggles two rubber-clad fingers into the crotch of her bottoms, spreading her open just a bit and grinning against her skin at how wet she’s become. “I just need it hard tonight, Harry. Need you to leave me sore.” 

“I always leave you sore.” The monster reasons mockingly, taking one of the garters between his teeth and tugging, releasing so it stings her like before. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.” 

Y/N trembles out an exhale, gathering herself enough to give him what he wants. “I need you to fuck me like you hate me.”

Harry grabs onto either sides of her panties, slowly peeling them down her legs and then scooting closer forward, planting an open-mouthed kiss right onto her bare clit. She mewls in return, her restraints creaking the bed. He continues pressing messy wet pecks to her cunt, feeling her tense up each time his soft lips suckle her fervently. 

“Is that why you sent that picture?” Harry wonders aloud, pausing his motions and raising one eyebrow at her. “Because you wanted me mad?”

The human nods, face wracked with guilt. It’s cute that she feels bad, especially because Harry had, in actuality, enjoyed her little stunt. Seeing her bent over like that, in a position that shows she couldn’t wait to please him— that she couldn’t wait until Friday came around so he could do to her whatever he deemed fit...It was the best form of edging he’s ever experienced. But for the sake of giving her what she wants, he’ll bite the bait. 

Harry rises up onto his knees, parting her thighs further as he fits himself between them, the pads of his gloved digits dancing across the thick of her damp clit. He bends down until his nose smudges over hers, the breath of his low words hot against her parted mouth. 

“Well, it fucking worked.”  

Harry taps his index and middle fingers against his palm in one quick flick and the tiny metal plates situated along the tips purr to life. He sinks knuckle-deep inside of Y/N, cold rings catching on her folds as he curls upwards to get at that special spot that resides along the pit of her tummy. The moan she releases it so raw and broken, it sends a zip of lightning through his veins. 

He fucks her like that for a while, with his strong chest poised against her heaving own as he marks love bites onto the cleavage spilling from her lace bra, his skilled fingers pumping into her at a harsh pace that has her legs shaking on either sides. He thumbs over her clit messily, the silicone molds sending waves of vibrations through her clenching walls as he relentlessly toys with her g-spot, her arms thrashing against his belt. Fragmented sounds of bliss freely stream from Y/N’s mouth without shame, his name intermingling amongst the whimpers as her head throws back against the headboard. Harry grips her throat in one hand, holding her to the sturdy surface as his other bobs between her thighs roughly, the bed groaning as a result of their intense actions. His wrist begins to ache from how hard he’s going, but the tears trickling out from the corners of Y/N’s eyes and the way she’s panting into his mouth are enough to keep him going.

“Look at me.” Harry squeezes her jugular tighter, garnering attention. She forces her eyelids open, inhales hiccuping when he braces his cool forehead to hers, his irises the color of a forest at midnight, pupils blown out of proportion. His teeth dig into her bottom lip just to feel it swell, a growl stirring the gravel in his chest. “Is this what you wanted?”

“Y-Yes.” Y/N boggles her head feverishly, glimpsing down over her sweaty cheeks to see the way his veins are chiseling along the forearm that is flexing between her drenched thighs. “Fuck, it’s so g-good.”

“Yeah? How about we go a little higher, hm?” Harry scrapes the pads of his fingers against that spongy place inside her, pressing the vibrators down and the motion clicks the toy into a higher level of intensity. 

Y/N writhes in his grasp, back arching off the headboard as deeper, more concentrated rumbles lap throughout her body. “Harry— I— that’s— God, just please!”

Harry takes ahold of her jaw as he continues finger-fucking her without remorse, his short breaths warm against her burning lips. “That’s my girl. Taking it hard and loving every second.” 

Y/N’s eyes lull back into her head. She doesn’t know why, but hearing Harry call her his girl satisfies her in a manner so deep, she didn’t know it existed. Just hearing him recognize her as his— as something he claims for himself, almost like an extension of who he is— stirs a foreign form of fulfillment in the back of her mind. 

“I’m—” The girl chokes on her sentence, finding it difficult to concentrate with so much pleasure coursing through her system, as well as with Harry painting hickies across the side of her strained neck. “I’m gonna cum.”

The immortal’s voice is stern and authoritative. “No, you’re not.” 

“I am, I can’t hold—”

“Yes,” Harry’s grip firms, pace sharpening into unapologetic slams, “you can. And you will. If you cum before I let you, you’re not getting anything else from me for the rest of the night. Do I make myself clear?”

Y/N’s cunt tightens around his fingers, warning him that she’s about to peak. “Harry, I’m sorry—but— but I—”

“Do I make myself clear?” 

Y/N has no hope that she can keep it in, but she adores the darkness swirling in Harry’s eyes at the moment and she’ll do anything if it means getting to witness it for a while longer. “Yes.” 

“Good.” She winces when she feels his teeth skim her earlobe, his whisper dripping with arrogant amusement. “I told you I’d make you regret it.” 

And he really does keep his oath. Minutes simulate hours as Harry continues to flirt her just along the seams of relief, pulling her back every time he sees her about to tip. Whenever he feels her begin to spasm around his slick fingers, he gives her a cautionary quirk of his brows accompanied by a testing, throaty, “Don’t you fucking dare.” or a simple, silent shake of his head. By some miracle, she manages to reign herself in every time, but each ruined orgasm makes it harder and harder to stifle the next. She doesn’t know how many times it happens; she stops counting after four. 

After what feels like decades of torture, Harry finally releases his hold around her jugular, allowing her to properly gulp air for the first time in a while. He sits back against his heels, pulling his hand from between her thighs with a sarcastic sympathetic hiss. “Poor thing.” 

He watches as a trail of her juices strings from his digits to her cunt, eventually snapping in the middle as he lifts his hand to study his work. Her release drips down his knuckles and palm, gleaming in the dim lighting. A mildly sadistic glint washes over Harry’s irises and for a split second, they look almost red, but Y/N dismisses it. Her brain is too fogged to trust right now. 

The boy’s sight flickers past his hand to where Y/N lies limply, wrists bruised from the bonds, arms quivering weakly, and legs trembling in overstimulation. He’s never seen her look more beautiful than now. 

He locks his bright eyes to her exhausted own, watching them shatter to pieces when he pushes his drenched fingers past his pillowy blushed lips. His lashes flutter as her taste washes across his tongue, sweet and decadent as always, a soft groan thrumming deep in his throat. God, he can only imagine how delectable her blood must be at the moment, honeyed by the plethora of endorphins he had repeatedly coaxed into her. He can't wait to feel its warmth fill his mouth later tonight.

Harry removes his fingers with a wet pop, licking across the back of his hand with finality and giving her a daring once-over. “Do you still want my cock? Or are you too sensitive for it, darling?”

He sounds so conceited and self-assured, it causes Y/N’s pride to flare. She wants to make him eat his stupid words.  

The mortal licks her chapped lips, wetting her dry throat and clearing it softly, wiping away the sweat on her forehead with her shoulder. “I still want it.” 

An impressed expression decorates Harry’s features. “You think you can take it?”

Y/N’s jaw clenches with dedication, her thighs spreading open a tad more and she wills herself not to flinch. Her chin cocks upwards. “I know I can.” 

Harry’s brows kink challengingly, a borderline evil smirk sewing onto his face. “Let’s see, then.” 

As it turns out, Y/N can take it. However, she knows for a fact she won’t be able to walk right for at least the next week.

Harry lowers his jeans and kicks them off, reaching into his navy briefs and tugging himself out, giving his length a few pumps for good measure as he shifts forward toward her. He flips the girl onto her belly as easily as he’d turn a sheet of paper, tying one arm around her hips and lifting them up as he slides a pillow below. He situates her accordingly onto the cushion, her ass slightly elevated to give him more range of depth. He pats at her backside lightly, telling her to part her knees and she does so obediently, gripping onto the leather strap around her wrists anxiously when she feels the bed shift with his weight. Harry lowers himself over her body, the tee covering his broad chest soaking up the thin sheet of sweat on her back. He moves all of her tangled hair to the side, burying his fingers into her roots and yanking her head back cheekily. He runs his nose across her damp cheekbone and chuckles when she jumps slightly at the feathery sensation. 

“You’re pretty stubborn, aren’t you?” 

Y/N gnaws on her bottom lip as she struggles to swallow, throat taut from the angle he’s put her in. Her voice carries a confident bite, despite her compromisable position. “I like to think I am, yeah.” 

“Well, you know what that makes you, right?” Harry murmurs as he lines himself up with her entrance. 

“Mm-mm. What?” 

The vampire presses a lingering kiss to the tittering pulse in her temple, feeling it thunder below his skin as he forms his next comment slowly with an ominous edge. “It makes you a brat.” 

He feels her heartbeat trip. 

“And you know what I do to brats?” 

Y/N shakes her head as much as his dominant grasp will allow, body tightening in suspense. 

“I fuck them until they break.” 

Y/N learns that he’s telling the truth. The first thrust Harry delivers is swift, hard, and unbelievably deep; it causes her to let out a choked scream that no one else has ever drawn from her before, except for him. It’s like he can tap into certain aspects of her body she was unaware of; parts of her waiting for the right person to come along and reveal them. She feels that stroke rip into her tummy, but the pain of his size is something she’s become accustomed to in the last three weeks. She hardly feels it anymore; it had molded from a sharp throb to a dull ache, due to how often she’s experienced it. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time, quickly picking up a sloppy, adamant pace that has her hips bouncing against the mattress. He twists her hair around his fist, mouth pressed to the side of her head as his hot pants of exertion send a prickling through her scalp. His other forearm keeps him anchored to the bed as he pounds into her with absolutely no hesitation, the sound of skin slapping, cracked whines, and raspy grunts filling the tense atmosphere of her chilly room. 

“Is this what you were hoping would happen when you sent that slutty picture?” Harry grits out, short nails digging into the comforter beneath. “Wanted to get me all riled up just so I’d do your back in?”

Y/N mewls weakly in response, hands clinging to each other within the makeshift cuffs. 

“If you wanted me to fuck you like I hate you, you could have just asked. I’m more than happy to give you whatever you want. You don’t have to tempt me.” The vampire gives a particularly deep slam, laughing breathily when the girl’s back instinctively arches forward, paired with a watery yelp of, “Oh!”

Harry’s tongue grazes across the shell of her ear, teeth catching the skin. “But since you did, I’ll give it to you just— like—that.” His thrusts match to each word, fingers coiling harder into her locks. “You deserve it. Especially when you had the nerve to act like such a spoiled little brat right to my face.” 

Y/N’s not sure what emboldens her to speak, but her snarky remark is already halfway down her numb tongue before she can stop it. “Don’t pretend you didn’t like it.”

Harry hums tauntingly, circling his hips in long strides that urge a series of fractured whimpers to scrape out of Y/N’s sore throat. “Say it again. Go ahead, say it. I want to see you try.”

She remains silent, spine shuddering as she bites down on her tongue to avoid making any more noises that might condemn her.  

Harry roughly cranes Y/N’s neck to the side, buttoning their lips together in a filthy kiss that has her cheeks boiling. “That’s what I thought. The only thing that sharp tongue is good for is licking down my cock.” 

She gasps against his mouth shakily, tears of sheer bliss gathering along her waterline. “You’re such a fucking asshole.” 

Harry can tell her comment holds no true malice behind it; she’s too sweet on him— too whipped on what he gives her— to ever mean it. She’d only said it to provoke him into a power dynamic struggle. But the thing is, Harry’s dealt with feeling powerless before, so he had spent years teaching himself how to win. How to always win. 

“Am I, now?” His next line dismantles her entire plan. “Would an asshole let you cum?”

And just like that, her whole demeanor crumbles. “I take it back. I’m s-sorry.”

Harry releases her hair and nips at her ear mockingly, beginning to withdraw himself. “Oh, I think it’s a bit too late for that, minx.”

“No, no! Harry, please. I’m sorry. Genuinely. I promise I won’t say it again. Just…” She tugs helplessly at the belt restraints, trying to twist around to look at him directly. Her voice is wringed out. “Just please.”

The boy pushes a few stringy curls out of his eyes, pressing his tongue into his cheek coyly as he glances down, suggestively smoothing one hand over her ass. He gives it a firm squeeze, lifting his palm teasingly and feeling her tense in anticipation. “Do you want it?”

Y/N glimpses at his bejeweled hand with hunger, then back at his eyes. “Yes.”

“Tell me you want it.”

“I want it.”

“Sorry, I seem to have forgotten what ‘it’ was, exactly. Jog my memory, will you? What is it you want?”

Her irises harden in spite at his shit-eating comment. He’s well aware of how shy she can be when it comes to admitting she wants a spanking, and he’s playing that to his advantage. He’s swimming in the way she squirms. 

“I...I want you to spank me.”

He tsks, shaking his head as he twists his HS rings around to face inwards. “You forgot something.” 

Y/N’s fingers tighten into begrudging fists. “I want you to spank me, please.”

“There’s a good girl.” His low, accented purr sends electricity through her nerves. “You’re so cute when you beg.”

Harry’s hand comes down swiftly, digits fanned out so that all of his rings print across her backside. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to leave a satisfying sting. He loves the way she jolts forward with a hushed curse of surprise, and he adores seeing the shape of his initials marked across her clammy skin. It’s poetic, almost.

“So pretty.” His mumble is wistful as he massages deeply over the region he had just bruised, but it holds unyielding authority. “Whose is it, doll?”

“Yours.” 

“And don’t you fucking forget it.” The creature lifts one palm to do it again, pausing once more just to rev her further. He reaches forward with the other, shoving her face-first into the mattress to get her back to straighten out. “Look forward and don’t make a single sound.”

Y/N obeys, but manages to sneak a peek at his reflection through the waxy wooden surface of her aged bedframe. He looks so good perched behind her with bare heaving shoulders, looking down at her exposed figure over the crests of his sharp cheekbones, brows furrowed into a starved expression that gives away he’s enjoying this probably more than she is. Her voice comes out small and weak. “Yes, sir.”

Harry’s entire face tightens at the word and she feels him throb against her backside. 

“Now beg me to let you cum.”

///

The next morning when Y/N’s eyes flutter open to the grey light streaking in through her curtains, the first thing she senses is a pair of eyes staring at the side of her face. 

She turns her stiff body over toward where the sensation stems and sure enough, she’s met with a pair of sea glass irises filled to the brim with humor. Harry’s laying on his side with his hands tucked below one of her pillows, tousled ringlets sticking up in wild tuffs (thanks to the activities they’d engaged yesterday), he’s completely bare since he likes sleeping nude (though he’d had the decency to cover himself with sheets from the waist down), and his voice is slower and raspier than usual (a result of being dormant for the last eight or so hours). 

“You drool in your sleep.” 

Y/N tucks her hands against Harry’s cold pectorals, snuggling deeper into his chest and pinching at one of his nipples in playful revenge. “No, I don’t.” 

“Yes,” he reaches up and shoos her hand away, proceeding to wipe at the side of her mouth, where dried spit had accumulated. He makes a theatrical gagging face, cleaning his thumb off across the collar of her t-shirt. “You do.”

Y/N sighs in exasperation, making a bold leap to a different topic to avoid talking about her embarrassing sleep habits. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you staring at people while they sleep is weird? Like, serial killer weird?” 

Harry tucks a few matted strands of hair behind the human’s ear, thumbing over her cheekbone tenderly. He hardly ever indulges in such actions, simply because they’re typically reserved for actual couples, which he and Y/N are definitely not. But last night— after he had finally finished being a prick and allowed her cum along with him, and after she had fallen into the bed with exhaustion taking her under, and after he’d had his greedy fill of her blood for the week— he’d gotten bored of playing on his phone. He’d burned through three cold case documentaries on Netflix and played enough Mario Kart to memorize the race charts; it had grown old quickly, and he eventually just locked the device and placed it on her nightstand. He spent the next hour staring at her hideous ceiling, and the one after that fantasizing about taking down her tapestry and burning it in the oven. And finally, after hours of mindless daydreams and letting his eyes chase the city lights dancing across the walls of her room, he had settled onto his side and watched her sleep. 

Harry did it simply because he had nothing else to distract him. He figured it would eventually bore him enough that maybe— just maybe, if he was lucky— he would fall asleep alongside her. But he didn’t, so he just ended up gazing at her slumbering face until dawn. He had been surprised by how oddly beautiful Y/N looked sleeping— how relaxed and tranquil, with her features soft and skin seemingly made of flawless porcelain. That intrigue had bled into the moment they share now, resulting in his touch drifting down the curve of her jaw and across the faint dimple on her chin. He follows the slope of her neck and admires the smoothness of her flesh with the ridges of his fingertips, hearing her breathing stutter ever so slightly. His heightened senses make it feel as if he’s running his digits over velvet and the only concept he can compare it to is touching forbidden artwork at an exhibit. It’s exciting, but he knows that if he keeps going, he could end up getting himself into a crock of shit. 

When the pads of his fingers land on two prominent purple bruises he’d forgotten existed, he’s broken from his soft stupor. He retracts his touch as if she were made of iron, forcing himself to ignore the pout that automatically plumps her delicate lips. 

He clears his throat awkwardly, a tight chuckle stringing his vocal chords. “Staring at someone in their sleep seemed to work just fine for Edward Cullen, though.” 

Y/N snorts sharply, rolling her eyes up towards her headboard. When she sees his belt is still hanging off of it from the night prior, she hurriedly glances back down, pretending not to have seen it. 

“It’s funny you say that because as I recall, he literally admitted to being a murderer. I believe his exact words were,” she exaggerates her voice into an angsty cry, grasping at her chest dramatically, “‘This is the skin of a killer, Bella!’”

Harry bursts into boyish giggles, falling fully onto his back and swiping his palm up his face, fingers remaining perched over his closed eyes as he laughs. He sighs airily, shaking his head as an afterthought. “What a moron.” 

“Truly. His dad was hotter.” 

“Way hotter.” Harry agrees passionately, burying his hand into his messy curls, attempting to comb out some of the tangles. “And he was a doctor. What a man.” 

“Bella really fucked that one up. She had a midlife crisis over choosing between a sad vampire who looked like he had chronic constipation, and a yappy dog with a shirt phobia. All when Carlisle was right there. Brain damage, honestly.” 

“A moment of prayer for the mentally incapacitated. Couldn't be me!”

“Couldn’t be me, either.”   

“Fuck, yeah.” Harry throws his hand up, inviting Y/N to give him a high five. “To good taste.”

She gladly delivers. “Exquisite taste.”

An instance of comfortable silence suspends between the pair of lovers, filled with the soft thrum of the air vent and the distant chirping of birds outside Y/N’s windowpane. She traces her index nail over the wings of the swallow tattoos along Harry’s collarbones, seeming to be deep in thought. She then speaks up once again.

“Emmett was pretty hot, as well.” 

“You know what? I’m happy you mentioned that ‘cause— full disclosure here— I’d ride him like a fucking bull.” 

Now it’s Y/N’s turn to explode in a fit of giggles, nose scrunching and eyes crinkling shut as she loses herself at Harry’s graphic confession. 

“Why are you laughing?!” The fact that he sounds genuinely appalled only spurs her sounds of glee. “Don’t tell me you wouldn’t take that chance if you got it. Like, okay, he’s an airhead, yeah? I’m aware. But fuck’s sake, look at his body. I’d happily let him beat me at arm wrestling if it means I get that celebratory dick afterwards.”

The mortal manages to calm down a handful of heartbeats later and Harry feels strangely proud of how he’d made her pulse spike. 

“You’re valid for that, don’t worry. I couldn’t have said it—” A single giggle interupts her sentence, but she reigns it in before it can spiral. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. Literally. There’s no way to express it better than exactly how you stated it.” 

Harry smirks softly up at the ceiling, folding his free arm behind his head as the other wraps securely down Y/N’s back, absentmindedly rubbing in gentle soothing circles. “My mind. It’s amazing, innit?”

“It’s definitely something.” 

Another span of cozy quietness fills the atmosphere of the room, longer than the last. Harry doesn’t mind. He finds it appeasing, and he continues to delight himself with running his touch up and down Y/N’s spine. He’s not sure how much time passes, but he’s aware that it’s probably a bit. His theory is supported by how he witnesses the beam of watery light that filters over the duvet gradually fade from silver to a sunflower yellow, indicating full daybreak. 

Even then, he doesn’t say a word, too caught up in this innocent bubble of domestic bliss to pop it so suddenly. He just lays there and listens. Listens to the birds harmonizing with each other across the branches of the tree outside. To the steady breaths that fill Y/N’s lungs with cool air, faltering past her nostrils in the same manner and fogging the metal of his cross necklace. To the faint sound of footsteps trotting down the staircase outside her apartment, and to the vague spritz of the sprinkler system going off at the front of the complex. To the distant honking of car horns in traffic, and to a random conversation between two friends as they walk past the pavement just under Y/N’s balcony. He hasn’t felt this at ease in eons. 

Harry just allows himself to grow in tune with the world around him— a world he’d been convinced was against him for the longest time. A world he was convinced stole his happiness and replaced it with the shackles of a blood-driven afterlife, for no other reason than because he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and met the wrong person. But now, he feels like he’s in the right place, at the right time, spending it with the right person— or at least a half-decent person— and he doesn’t want to let it slip between his fingers so soon. He wants to bask in it, even if he knows it’ll pass. 

And eventually, it does pass, and Y/N is the one who brings it to an end. 

The girl slowly peels away from Harry’s side, his lips dipping downwards slightly at the loss of the warmth she radiates. He thinks she’s about to get up to probably go use the bathroom or to make breakfast, but instead, she just bends her upper body over the edge of her bed to retrieve something from the floor. She comes back up with the box he’d brought her the evening before (which had ended up on the ground as a result of her bed rocking violently), setting it in the small space between their laps. She then returns to her place cuddled into his torso, looking up at him with an expression that Harry can only interpret as expecting. 

The vampire glances down at the container and then back up to Y/N’s face, raising his eyebrows curiously, voice tinged with comedy. “What did I say about bringing sex toys to the dinner table?”

Y/N stares up at him flatly for a second, fighting off a smile. “I just wanted to thank you again. It’s nice of you to bring me a present, even as strange as this one.” 

Harry sucks at his teeth, waving a hand dismissively, blinking down at her with slyness sparkling around his pupils. “What are friends for, if not for buying you vibrating finger gloves and then fucking you with them until you cry?”

Despite having been acquainted with Harry’s crude humor for three weeks now, it still manages to make Y/N’s cheeks sizzle. It could also be the fact that this is the first time Harry has openly accepted Y/N as a friend. It’s the first time he’s ever mentioned her name and that word in the same sentence, meaning that she can now shake a weight off her shoulders— a weight that had insisted he was only using her for sex, that he would eventually grow bored of her, and that he would throw her away once he was done. It’s good to know that’s not the case, and that the friendship aspect of their agreement is true to its name. 

“Right.” Y/N’s smile is full of so much genuine warmth, Harry feels like she could outshine the sun. “What are friends for, if not that. Thanks, Harry.” 

He wonders what she’s thinking, and he finds himself wishing that he had the one valid trait that idiot Edward Cullen possesses: mind-reading. But he doesn’t have it, so he simply returns her gesture and skates the conversation how he best deems fit. “You don’t have to call me ‘Harry’ all the time, you know?” 

Y/N’s brows cinch in entertained confusion. “What would I call you, then? Sherlock?” 

Harry scoffs lightly at the inside joke, shrugging one shoulder casually. “I mean, you could, if you want to. It might take some getting used to, but I think I can shoulder a full-time second identity. Just for you.” 

“How chivalrous.”

“You ain’t ever met a man like me, sweetheart.” He boasts in an over-the-top American southern accent, prying another round of laughter from Y/N, similar to the one before. “But you could also just call me ‘H.’ It’s what most of my other friends use.” 

“H.” Y/N repeats, getting a taste for the new nickname. It’s simple, unlike him, but it somehow fits. She then recalls something from a show she’d watched when she was younger and she can’t help but bring it up. “So, like, just your first initial? Like in Gossip Girl?”

Harry’s face immediately drops at the comparison she makes to the cringey teenage soap opera. “You know what, I take it back. You’re not allowed to use it. Illegal. Banned. By an official court. Gavel and all.”

“I’m just making a point!”

“Yeah, a shitty one.” 

“Oh, whatever. You’re just mad I debunked your little hipster alter ego. ‘That’s a secret I’ll never tell. Xoxo, H.’”

“Restraining order.” Harry pinches at one of her love handles, an evil grin dimpling his cheeks when she squeals. “Actually, nevermind. We’re going straight to the electric chair. Immediately.” 

“You don’t get to decide my punishment, remember?” Y/N slaps at his wrists, trying to ward off his attacks but failing miserably. “You’re just the—stop!— just the executioner.” 

“That’s right. I get to strap you to the chair.” Harry finally lets up on the tickling, his lighthearted grin taking on a slightly seductive hue as he momentarily glimpses upwards towards where his belt is hanging. “Though you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” 

“Fuck off.” Y/N smothers her palm against his face, breaking eye contact as she feels her ears bristle with heat.  

“Mm, exactly.” Harry gnashes at her hand playfully, but she manages to yank it away before he gets a bite in. “You can’t even admit you like being called a whore.” 

“Hey!”

“What?” The vampire gives her a cocky look, wagging his head knowingly and then mimicking her voice in a higher pitch. “‘I’m just making a point!’”

“You’re a dick, you really are.” 

“And yet you still ride mine, so who’s the one with the real issues here? Specifically, daddy issues.”

“I’m done with this conversation.” Y/N huffs, returning her attention to the box beside her thigh, muffling the twitching across her lips. 

She takes the cardboard into her hands, tracing over the small flap used to pry the top open. Harry watches her with interest, pondering as to what could possibly be scurrying around her skull that she seems so caught up with the context of the gift. He’d gotten it because he knew they would both benefit from it. It’s as simple as that. 

“You know,” she starts, but her gaze remains glued to the box, “I feel kinda bad ‘cause, like...You got me this gift, I have nothing to give you in return.” 

Harry’s face contorts into a silly frown for a moment, tone humorous. “It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t have to give me anything back. I got it ‘cause I knew we’d enjoy using it together, and because this way, you have something to play with when I’m not around. And you can send me videos of said instances. It’s truly a win-win. A double-ended gift.” 

“I suppose.” She mumbles softly, continuing to pick at the lip of cardboard sticking out. “But I feel like it’s only fair that you get to use it, too, don’t you think?”

And then the reason she’s insistent about this dawns on Harry. The way she’s avoiding looking at him directly, how her heart rate is slowly ebbing upwards, how she is gradually scooting closer to his body, how he can feel her thighs are clasped tightly below the comforter. How the scent of honey and lavender has intensified. How she keeps glancing towards where the sheets are crumpled messily around his hips in a haphazard attempt to remain civil. 

When the monster speaks, it carries all the arrogance brought forward by his discovery. “If you wanna give me a handjob with the toy on, just say so.” 

The human’s head snaps upwards, her expression one of utter alarm at his lewd comment, but he can see right through her act. It’s obvious that was her intention all along— the desire in her eyes is poorly masked. She looks so adorable, pretending not to know what he’s referring to, her palms gripping the box slightly tighter than before. 

Harry twirls a strand of her hair around his finger nonchalantly, giving it a jesting tug. “I just find it funny how much of a horny menace you can be.”

“What—?”

“And it’s not even ten A.M. yet.”

“What do you—?” 

“Y/N,” Harry sighs tiredly, giving her an omniscient look, “I’ve slept with you enough times to know when you want something. It’s written all over your body language and you’re pretty shit at hiding it in your eyes. Just admit you want to and I’ll let you.” 

The faux shock slowly melts off her face, replaced by sheepish humiliation at being so easily sussed out. She chews on her bottom lip pensively, struggling to sew together the appropriate words to communicate the very inappropriate activity she wants to engage in. Harry has to withhold from leaning down and taking a bite from her tempting mouth.  

She inhales a deep breath through her nose, puffing it out slowly and tapping her fingers across the box nervously. Her voice pipes up so softly, it’s almost inaudible. “I want to give you a handjob with the toy.”

Harry gently cards his fingers into the mussed roots along the back of her head, using that hold to guide her sight upwards until it meets his. He leans down, smearing his lips over her own, feeling static pass through the ridges of their skin. “That’s all you had to say, darling. Go ahead, then. Make me cum.” 

Y/N swallows thickly, lashes fluttering bashfully as she pastes her mouth to his in a soft kiss. It’s a simple action with just their lips and nothing else. No tongue, no teeth, no sucking, nothing sloppy or desperate— not yet, anyways. He can tell she does it as a way to ease herself into this. She wants to, that much is arousingly obvious, but for some crazy reason unbeknownst to him, she’s still shy about it. That’s what happens when you come from a conservative raising: you get intimacy issues. He of all people— with his Victorian era background— would know. 

The hand Harry has cupping the nape of her neck shifts over a smidge, ending up splayed across the side of her face. His palm rests on her cheekbone and his fingers in her locks, his wrist cradling the back of her skull as he patiently deepens the kiss. His chest begins to heave slightly, a familiar sensation already frothing at the trench of his stomach. Harry can feel Y/N’s clumsy movements as she unboxes the vibrators, digging through the packaging and trying to slip them on blindly, not wanting to break away from his embrace. The way he’s flirting his tongue along the inside of her top lip is just too consuming to leave. 

After a few seconds of grappling and a string of annoyed curse words, Harry giggles lightly into her mouth, nudging the tip of his nose across the bridge of hers. The jade tint in his irises is waltzing with amusement, all at her expense. “Sometime today, love.” 

“I know, I’m sorry, I just— I can’t— they won’t—” The mortal releases an irritated growl into their kiss, reluctantly splitting away when it becomes clear she won’t be able to get the rubber gloves on without giving the task her full attention. “God, I’m such a...Sorry.” 

Harry rolls his eyes in mirth, pecking sweetly along the angry creases present over her forehead and between her brows. He thumbs over her cheek affectionately to soothe her nerves, his other hand scratching distractedly at the back of his neck. He filters curls through his fingers as he waits, bicep jolting in the process. “It’s fine, I’m just teasing. I’m not going anywhere, babe.”

“Thanks. Just give me—” The girl pauses her actions for a second, jutting her chin back up towards him and locking the vampire into another quick kiss, solely for the purpose of keeping him interested while she figures herself out. She breaks away again, returning to her mission. “Just give me a minute.” 

Now that she can see, Y/N successfully wriggles all five of her fingers into their designated molds. She prods at them gingerly, copying Harry’s actions from the night prior, using that experience as a manual. The mini-vibrators purr to life, a buzzing sensation trickling down her fingers. She glances back up at an awaiting Harry, who gives her such an easy, good-natured smile, she instantly reaches up and glues their mouths together again. 

“You’re so eager.” The boy grins into the kiss, jumping a bit when he feels her tittering fingers duck beneath the covers around his lower torso. “It’s hot.” 

“I just want to make you feel good.” Y/N mumbles, one palm braced to his strong shoulder as the other rides down his bare abdomen. She can feel his grip on her hair tightening the closer she gets to his cock. “That’s all.” 

“Guess I’m just the luckiest— shit.” Harry’s quip is interrupted when Y/N wraps her digits around his length, giving it one slow, testing pump. His jaw drops open and he begins panting into her mouth, the corners of his lips ticking upwards into a smirk as an intense pleasure swells between his thick thighs. “Jesus fucking Christ, that feels— fuck, that’s incredible, oh my God.”

“Yeah?” The human asks timidly, gazing up at him dreamily from below her lashes as his eyes lull back into his head. “Not too much?” 

Harry loves how attentive she is— how she’s checking to make sure he’s alright before continuing. If he had a heart, it would surely be glowing right now. 

Harry gulps down the lump in his throat, voice more strained and needy than she’s ever heard it. “No, I’m good, I’m good. Keep going.” 

Y/N gradually sinks her palm back down to his base, feeling his cock twitch desperately as the vibrators work their magic. She slowly slinks back up to his tip, thumbing over it carefully, pressing the toy on her thumb pad right over his slit. The garbled moan that emits from Harry is a sound her ears will never forget. It’s a sound she wishes she could record and listen to on a loop. 

“Fucking hell, don’t— please, just— oh—” Harry stutters through a plead, voice bleeding, naked chest now heaving wildly against her own. His hips buck forward into her hand, but she maintains a steady grip, keeping the vibrator pressed to the center of his cock’s head. 

“Don’t what?” She whispers into his mouth, suckling at his Cupid’s bow and reveling in the little broken noises he pours onto her tongue. 

Harry’s breaths are shallow and pained, the grip on her hair stronger than she thought possible as the fingers of his opposite hand yank at his own feverishly. He’s barely able to choke out his next sentence. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” Y/N begins to fish for a solid rhythm, her strokes setting into medium pace and gauging the receiver's reaction. “How’s that?” 

Bright colors web across Harry’s eyelids and he feels like his soul is being torn from his body. “Y-Yeah, that’s perfect, baby. It’s so good— you’re so good.” 

“I am?” Y/N swipes her thumb over his tip again, and when he whimpers brokenly against her lips, she does it again. It urges the same exact reaction, but more shattered. So she does it again. And again, and again, and again. And each time it happens, his hips jerk more violently, chasing her intoxicating touch. She can feel Harry’s precum drip down his length and leak between the cracks of her fingers. 

“You are, you’re just so fucking good to me.” Harry’s spewing words at this point, brain half conscious, half floating in bliss. Whatever dam of common sense holds his mind together crumbles, all of his thoughts rushing out in the form of jumbled phrases and cracked whines. “You get me going like nothing else, pet. You get me going so easily, it’s embarrassing. You make me cum so hard, it feels like I’m touching h-heaven. And your mouth— God, y-your mouth. It’s the best I’ve ever had. It’s so soft and warm, and your lips are so pretty and silky. I could kiss you for hours. And your tongue— you know how to use it so well. You lick me once and I’m already on edge. And every time you get down on your knees, I think I’m gonna pass out.”

Y/N sighs shakily at Harry’s string of confessions, staring up at him with wide eyes as his own stay shut loosely, long lashes perched on his rosy cheekbones, handsome features slack with euphoria. She doesn’t halt her motions, continuing to pump him excitedly. The girl passes her thumb over his tip every time she gets to the top, and gives a hard squeeze every time she thunks down against his base, twisting her wrist as she glides back and forth between the two points of reference. That combination seems to work well, evident in the steady stream of vulgarities falling from Harry’s swollen lips as he thrusts upwards to match her pace. His groans splash across her tongue, traveling down her throat and burning into her stomach. She wants him to cum probably more than he does.

Y/N glimpses down, watching her sheets tent as she works Harry over, the outline of her knuckles pressing into the turquoise fabric. It’s such an erotic scene and she knows it’ll be branded across the front of her brain for years to come. She cranes her neck back up to look at the vampire, her breath catching in her lungs. He looks so pretty with his dark pink lips parted in pleasure, his damp ringlets matting along his sweaty hairline, his structured jaw ticking, and his usually sharp traits softened by ecstasy. She’ll do anything to make that image last.  

“Tell me more.” Y/N murmurs, swimming in the praise he is so willing to dish out. 

His eyes flicker for a heartbeat and in that instance, they look oddly darker than normal. Almost crimson, but she knows it’s due to the shadow of his lashes. The words that spill from his mouth next make her forget all about that occurrence, his voice melodic and dark, sticky against her wet lips. 

“Your hands are one of my favorite things about you, I think. They’re smaller than mine and I love how your fingers don’t touch when you wrap them around my cock. I love how they leave my back raw with scratches, and I love how they look tied to the bedpost. I love it when they press flat against my chest when you ride me, and how you lean back on them when I’m on my knees with my head between your thighs. I love how they yank at my hair when you’re about to cum, and how they grip my upper arms when we make-out. I love how your nails dig into my thighs when you're going down on me, and how they look fisting at the sheets when I’m taking you from behind. And I love how they feel tugging me off, like you’re doing now. I just love how perfect they are— how perfect you are.” 

Y/N is left speechless, Harry’s monologue ringing in her heated ears as he gazes at her intensely amidst heavy, barely-cracked eyelashes. His broad chest gasps for air and he takes it upon himself— despite his wrecked appearance— to smush their mouths deeper together, pooling moans across the roof of her own.  

“I’m—” His breathing throttles, voice coming out softer than she’s heard it in the last three weeks. “I’m gonna cum.”

Y/N nods her head numbly, strokes becoming lazy and fast, eager for him to finish. “I want you to. I want you to cum for me so bad. Please?” 

Harry’s hips writhe in a tell-tale sign that he’s about to tip. His whimper tastes sweet on her tongue, the meaning behind it pure syrup to her ego. “You’re the only one who makes me feel this good.”

The mortal whines gently in return, eyes falling shut as she feels him grow heavier in her palm. “You’re the only one I want to make feel this good.” 

The knot of white hot pleasure in his belly begins to unravel, his entire spine shuddering as a result, all strain beginning to wash out of his system in spurts if blissful electricity. He can feel his orgasm racing up his prick, pulling his composure along with it. He gives one last jerk against Y/N’s cupped fingers, feeling her press her vibrating thumb over his slit one more time for good measure. When the first milky ribbon spurts out, that’s when he feels it. 

Harry’s eyelids fly open in alarm as black veins protrude along the whites of his eyes, all his muscles contracting at once, defense mode activated. Y/N’s lips are on his neck. 

His first instinct is to do what he always does and guide her away from that sensitive, highly forbidden area. His fist tightens in her hair and he’s about to yank her back up to his mouth when suddenly, the icy tension present in his veins disappears. It’s replaced by a soothing warmth, which travels through every crevice in his body and kindles his climax, his impulsive hatred for being touched in that specific region funneling away completely. He can’t remember a time where this has happened before. 

Harry’s grip loosens hesitantly as he treads into this unexplored territory, allowing her to continue suckling along his throat. The sensation would usually garner a reaction similar to that of a molten metal brand being placed on his skin, but now— for some startling reason— he doesn’t feel any contempt. He just feels relaxed and cradled in the best way imaginable. The impact is pleasant this time around, and he finds himself wanting more of it. So, he lets her give him more. He lets this strange girl kiss and gasp and lick against his jugular while she finishes getting him off, his own desperate sounds of need bouncing around the brick walls of her bedroom. He lets her coax wave after wave of cum out of him, feeling it splatter against her bedspread and coat over her hand. He whines and grunts into the hair along the crown of her head, tears blearing his eyes as her scent of sugar and flowers clouds his mind. And when his release finally sputters to an end, he lets out an elongated groan so deep, it makes his chest ache.

“Fuck. You’re...You’re an absolute angel.”

Y/N draws her hand out from beneath the bed sheets, turning off the vibrating finger pads by pressing them against her palm. She looks down at the milky substance covering the toys and before Harry can make even a sound of encouragement, she’s already licking it off each individual piece. The girl looks up at the vampire as she cleans every trace of him off her fingers, swallowing it all down with a doe-like tint across her hazy gaze and murmuring a soft, “You taste good.” over a full mouth. Harry just watches silently, heavy breathing slowly starting to even out. God, she really is such a fucking godsend.

The next couple of minutes list by in a blur, all of his focus taken up by the feeling of unsettlement pricking at the back of his brain. Why had he let her touch him there? Why had he let her touch him in a place no one has since before his death?

Y/N puts the toys back in their box, putting them off to the side to thoroughly clean later. She reaches down, bunching up her bedspread in her hand and wiping Harry’s pelvis, thighs, and tummy down until he’s decently clean, as well as whatever is left on her hand. She then snuggles up to his side once again, laying her head into the crook between his arm and pectoral muscles, staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully along with him. The irritating red tint across Harry’s chest, stomach, and neck gradually fades away, and he barely flinches when he feels her sponge her lips against his Adam’s Apple. She lulls the tip of her middle finger up along the vein of his cock one more time for finality, smiling slyly when he hisses in sensitivity.

The immortal tilts his head down to appraise her, sniffling lightly and allowing a weak, watery smile across his raw lips. His tone is feathery and detached. “That was…Christ.”

Y/N giggles softly, nodding along to his unspoken opinion. “It was fun. Really fun. We should do it again sometime.” 

Harry splutters into a drunken laugh, mind still floating around the room. “I don’t think I could survive that again.”

Y/N grins up at him cheekily. “Pussy.” 

Her friend breaks into an expression of utter offense, cheeks still slightly rosy. He shoves her head roughly as vengeance. “Hey! Piss off. Don’t blame it on me, blame it on the male anatomy.” 

The girl shakes her head up at him, eyebrows shrugging mockingly. “Excuses, excuses.” 

“Whatever.” 

A moment passes, and then Y/N speaks up again, her index finger poking playfully into the center of his bare chest, right over the butterfly tattoo. “Also, you’re washing my sheets. Your mess, you clean it up.”

Harry grins against her forehead, scratching lightly at the back of her scalp. “Fair enough…Wait, is that why you wanted to do this? ‘Cause you knew I’d soil your sheets and you could force me to do your laundry?”

That hadn’t been her motive at all, and Harry knows that, but she plays along anyways for the hell of the joke. “Perhaps.” 

“Wow. I feel used.” 

“Too bad. Go do it. Now. Before it stains.”

Harry stares at her like she’s sprouted a second head. “I literally can’t walk right now! I can’t feel anything below my waist.”

Y/N lifts the comforter off her body, symbolically showing off the bruises his fingertips and rings had left the night before. “Well, neither can I!” 

Harry reaches down and touches the marks, chuckling to himself. “How unfortunate. Who’s gonna make breakfast, then, if neither of us can even stand?”

“We could UberEats some iHop.” 

“Who’s gonna get the door?”

“Well, I can’t solve everything on my own, now can I?!” Y/N slaps his hand away from her body. “Contribute! You’re the lead detective, after all.” 

“I am, aren’t I?” Harry cocks his head to the side in recollection, remembering his role in their imaginary dynamic duo scenario. “And because I’m the lead, I say…” He ropes his lean arms around the human and buries his face into her warm neck, pulling her close and intertwining their legs together, trapping her to the mattress along with him. “I say we just bum around for a bit longer. Just until one of us can actually muster up the strength to leave the bed.” 

Y/N makes an exasperated noise in the back of her throat, but makes no apparent attempt to leave his embrace. “Fine.” 

“Mystery solved, then! Elementary, my dear Watson.”

“You’re so dumb.” 

The pair stay cuddled for a bit, with Y/N’s hands loosely gripping Harry’s forearms, tracing across his mermaid tattoo absently. She wanders in her thoughts for a period of time, lost in the sensation of Harry’s warm breath fanning down her neck, his hot lips pressing small kisses behind her ear every once in a while. She likes their morning after routine; it’s innocent and fun and sharing moments like this makes it easy to forget her troubles. She wants more of this, and she finds herself trying to come up with ways to convince Harry to spend the night more often. This is only the fourth time he’s stayed until morning and she wants that number to grow. 

An idea dawns on her and she’s voicing it before her inhibitions can kill it off.

“Do you...Do you maybe wanna stay over the rest of the weekend?”

Harry draws his face from the alcove of her soft neck, eyebrows poised in curiosity. “The rest of the weekend?”

“Yeah!” Y/N shifts her gaze up to look at him, hope swirling around her pupils. “Like, spend the rest of today and tomorrow over, and then leave tomorrow night ‘cause I have work on Monday. Does that, like...Does that make sense?” 

“Yeah.” Harry says slowly, mulling over her offer, thinking back to his schedule. He doesn’t think he has any commitments this weekend that would require him being home— none he can’t cancel easily, anyways. He’d told Mitch he’d go see him play again at the pub later today, but it’s the same set as last time, so he doesn’t think his best friend would mind if he missed it just this once. Niall was planning a barbecue at his place on Sunday, but the Irish bloke does one almost every other week so it’s nothing Harry can’t make up. Plus, what type of idiot would pass up two day’s worth of amazing sex? The more, the merrier.

Y/N watches the vampire’s expression carefully, trying to interpret whether her request was out of their boundaries. She doesn’t want to make him feel like she’s trying to tie him down or suffocate him, she just wants to spend a bit more time in his presence, rather than through a phone screen. Her tone comes out dismissive, with just the tiniest hint of panic. “It’s okay if you can’t, though. Like, if you have other plans and stuff, I totally get it. Or if you just don’t want to, that’s fine, too! I just thought it’d be a fun little thing we can do since we already talk so much on the phone and everything, so I guess I just kinda figured you wouldn’t mind—”

“I get it, Y/N.” Harry interrupts Y/N’s unhinged word vomit, voice amused and nonchalant. “I think I’d like that, yeah.”

Y/N blinks in giddy surprise. “Really?” 

“Well, don’t sound so shocked.” Harry laughs lightly, fingers toying with the pearls laying across his clavicle. “The sex is pretty fucking good and I’m more than happy to have it at my disposal.” 

“Right.” Y/N gives him a deadpan look, shaking her head at his bluntness, reaching forward to fiddle with the chain of his cross necklace for the sake of having something to distract her from smiling like a fool. “Great, then. I have some old boxers that I know will probably fit you and an unopened pack of toothbrushes under the sink, so I think you’re set.” 

Harry’s lips purse at the mention of the men’s underwear, brows creasing a tad. “You just casually have men’s boxers laying around?” 

“They were my ex’s and I kept them out of spite. But don’t tell anyone, I don’t wanna get locked up for robbery.” 

The tightness in his chest— which he hadn’t even realized had formed— melts away. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good, or else I’d have to kill you.” The girl states darkly, a theatrical seriousness to her appearance. 

“Oh no.” Harry wails sarcastically, knotting a fist into her oversized tee and pulling her closer, connecting their lips and grinning into the kiss. “I’m shaking in fear.” 

Y/N gives in without much of a fight, hands still clinging to his forearms, a smile of her own creeping across her cheeks. “Asshole.”

“The only thing I’m relatively afraid of is my dick falling off. You have the sexual drive of a rabbit.” 

“Oh, like you’re any better?” 

“I’m innocent in all this! You’re usually the one instigating. I’m just a mere pawn— a poor, unsuspecting nun led astray.”

“God, I can’t believe I let you fuck me.” 

///

The following weekend, Harry officially invites Y/N over to his house. 

It had been talked about in passing a while back, and he figures it's only fair considering all the time they’ve ever spent together has been solely at her place. Plus, he could tell she was curious to see what his living situation is like, which is valid. You can tell a lot about people through their home, and when you’re sleeping with someone on the regular, you want to learn as much about them as possible. It’s important to know who you’re getting into bed with. Literally. 

Harry’s proud of his condo. He keeps it clean, he keeps it organized, and he keeps it styled in a manner that combines his Victorian gothic roots with modern day aesthetics. The floorboards of the apartment are made of waxed light-wash wood, most of the expanse of his living room covered in a furry dark grey rug. The lightness of the ground is contrasted by the matte mahogany walls, of which the largest is covered in Harry’s collection of first edition artwork. He had picked out every single piece himself throughout the span of the last two centuries, ranging from modern digital technique canvases to nineteenth century oil paintings, all arranged in neat alternating rows from oldest to newest. He can’t help that he’s such a stickler; his mom had raised him so. 

Though his art wall is his pride and joy, the glass wall that overlooks the city skyline comes in at a close second. Harry loves the city, despite the fact that he was born in a seemingly irrelevant town whose only redeeming quality was the bustling public market. Urban regions are just full of so much life, excitement, and potential, which are all concepts he never really got to explore before he transitioned. Cities represent everything he wanted as a young man, when he thought he had prosperous years ahead of him and an entire life left to build; they represent diversity, unique experiences, and endless possibilities. When that was stripped from him, he began to bounce around different countries and cities all over the world, seeking a place that would fill the hole his dreams had left behind. Los Angeles fit that space like a puzzle piece. 

That glorified window just means more to him than anyone could possibly know. Sometimes at night, he’ll just stand by it with his arms relaxed across his chest, watching the city gleam and glitter as individuals from all different backgrounds go about their business, blissfully ignorant to the beautiful concept that they all contribute to something much bigger— a concept that only centuries of wisdom could reveal. When he’s not wracked with jealousy and spite, looking out that window and witnessing the world change and evolve is therapeutic, in a way. It allows Harry to live vicariously through others who get to have what he never did. 

Aside from his art collection and the glass wall, the chandeliers that hang from his cavernous ceiling are third on his list of treasured possessions. They’re special and no one on this earth owns anything like them; Harry made sure of that. They were created by a Swedish interior designer Harry commissioned about ten years ago, so they are custom-made in every aspect of the term. They took months to construct and finalize, which is hardly difficult to believe, given their grandeur. Each chandelier is made of two extensive layers of delicate golden chains, all arranged around a wire center, connected by light bulbs at each peak. It gives his home a chic, avant-garde atmosphere that mirrors his personality down to the last chain link. 

The rest of his flat is tailored to compliment these three major determining factors. The wood paneling all around his apartment is carved with intricate, loopy designs, his two rounded coffee tables are made of the same marble that resides across his kitchen counters, and his kitchen sits directly under the second story ledge with elongated fluorescent poles embedded into the room’s ceiling, eloquently highlighting the creme walls and polished detailings of all his appliances. His sectional couches are made of an off-brown leather, covered in large rectangular couch cushions with a checkered print embroidered across the pillow cases, and weighted fleece blankets litter some areas of the elegant sofas. A wide staircase leads up to the second floor, made of grey glass steps and metal railings. 

The top story of his condo is less Victorian era, more modern composition. The ground is dark maroon carpeting, and the ledge leads to one singular corridor that splits into two seperate rooms at either ends. One is the master bedroom, and the other is an accompanying bedroom which he uses for storage. His room isn’t anything extravagant, per se. It’s big, but his decor is minimalistic, covered in all different muted shades of blacks and greys, from the comforter on his king-sized bed to the tall dresser. A fifty inch flat-screen is mounted on the wall, but he hardly uses it since the one in his living room is larger; it’s only really there as an ornament. Starburst lights hang from his ceiling— smaller, downplayed versions of his chandeliers— and his walk-in closet stands parallel to the entrance of his bathroom. 

The humongous bathroom was meant for two people, pretty obvious in the double-sink set up, but he doesn’t dwell on it much. He isn’t one for dating, and he’s just happy to have that luxury because it comes in handy the morning after one night stands. He has a jacuzzi-like bathtub, lined with water jets and all, and a big walk-in shower with a large overhead panel instead of a regular showerhead. The whole room is made of dark marble and porcelain, and he couldn’t possibly adore it more. Some of his best experiences had happened in this room, explicit and otherwise. 

In the end, Harry has every right to be arrogantly proud of his apartment. It had taken him months to decorate, years to fill with fond memories, and an immortal lifetime to find. He loves it with every trace of his soul, even when others disagree. Namely, Niall, who had mocked his sophisticated relics and old-timey architecture from the first time he’d set foot past the threshold; “You went the dark gothic route? Really? Way to feed into the stereotype, Dracula.” 

But no matter what anyone says, this is who he is, and he couldn’t be happier. After decades of migrating and aimlessly searching the globe, he’d finally found a place he could call home, and absolutely no one could take that from him. Especially not some Irish moron who doesn’t even know the definition of “foyer.”

How Harry manages to afford his flat is a whole other intriguing tale.

It had come up in a pillow talk conversation with Y/N once, and he had told her the story he feeds to any human who asks. He’s a regional manager for an offshore company and it’s mainly a lot of online work. Handling duties through business emails, videochat meetings, job portals, and things of the such. It paints a valid image as to why he’s home all the time. He also claims to be the company’s lone contact stationed in California, so he handles all of the responsibilities that would normally be bestowed upon three or four people. This paints a valid explanation as to how his imaginary position would tether such a high pay grade, which justifies his luxurious living arrangement.

That story is part of the truth. Harry does indeed have ties with corporate businesses. That is, ties to their CEOs’ pockets. It’s surprisingly easy to get past secretaries and security dressed in a nice suit and thousand dollar leather shoes, especially with the help of compulsion and Harry’s golden charisma. Thanks to those tools, he has managed to convince some of the biggest leaders in corporate California to quietly deposit generous sums of money into his bank account once a month. And with his persuasive supernatural abilities, he convinces them to write it off as regularly scheduled charity donations in their minds. That’s how he makes a living for himself— by scamming the rich. Xander likes to take the piss and call him a sugar baby, but Harry sees himself as more of a modern day Robin Hood, instead. 

Mitch says his charade is unlawful, but considering how corrupt the business world already is, the vampire feels next to no guilt. The one percent have always taken advantage of those poorer than them— that was obvious even back in Harry’s time— and he doesn’t see anything wrong with taking advantage of them right back, now that he has the means to. How’s that saying go? “Fuck the bourgeoisie” and all that. 

Everything taken into consideration, Harry’s pretty excited to show Y/N his condo. Watching people’s faces break into awe the second he turns the lights on always gives him such a deep surge of satisfaction. It makes all the hassle worth it.  

The immortal is currently sitting in his vintage car, flicking through his Spotify playlist to find something to entertain him while he waits for Y/N to finish her shift. He had offered to pick her up, knowing that it’s what any courteous host would do, and she had appreciatively accepted, telling him she’d be out by eight P.M. It’s seven fifty-three now and Harry had arrived around seven fifty, taking the slot right in front of the cafe’s entrance so she can spot him as soon as she walks out. These ten minutes are the longest he’s ever had to endure, which says a lot considering he’s endured tons of patience-testing moments in his two hundred years.

Harry swipes his thumb down the glass screen of his phone, sampling songs left and right to see what will stick. After listening to the first few chords of an array of forties dance music, seventies rock and roll, and twenty-first century bubblegum pop, he settles for Rodeo by Lil Nas X. Harry has a very intricate taste in music— it’s one of the traits he’s most proud of— and Mitch often tells him he’s too snotty when it comes to his preferences. He’ll admit it freely that, yes, he can be a piece of work musically, but just because he thinks the industry peaked in the seventies doesn’t mean he hates modern music. He likes most of it, including rap, and Lil Nas X happens to be one of his favorites, much to everyone’s surprise. Most of the artist’s songs are eccentric not only lyrically but also instrumentally, to the point where it’s almost comical— who names a song Panini, of all things?— but the music is catchy and Harry can let loose to it easily. 

The vampire also happened to meet the musician, on one occasion. He ran into him at a club and after a few drinks and some banter, somehow ended up getting invited over to a party at the celebrity’s Malibu mansion. That night is a blur, definitely due to the copious amounts of alcohol and psychedelics, but Harry remembers they had fun and that the guy was worth a listen. In fact, he was the genius that came up with the theme for the rapper’s Rodeo music video. 

A light knocking on the passenger’s seat window brings him out of his memories. Y/N stands outside, hugging her arms loosely over her tummy, decked in her usual work uniform of a navy polo and black skinny jeans. When the two lock eye contact, she gives him a soft wave and a tired smile. Harry lifts two fingers in greeting, returning her polite gesture and swiftly lowering the window. He leans forward across the center console, his grin taking on a playful hue, voice carrying the same effect. 

“Uber for Y/N?” 

The girl snorts and rolls her eyes, but plays along, reaching forward and jiggling the handle of his black Cadillac symbolically. “That’s me, yes. Open up.” 

“Eh, eh, eh.” Harry tuts, wagging a finger in her direction and then making a motion that tells her to back away. “I’m gonna have to see some ID. It’s one of our new safe driver policies. Gotta make sure you are who you say you are, miss.” 

Y/N’s expression drops flatly, eyes half-lidded as he smiles up at her brightly, batting his eyelashes innocently. “Open the door before you end up sucking your own dick tonight.” 

Harry’s shit-eating face falls so fast, it causes her to burst into laughter. A soft click vibrates through the handle below her fingers. “I’ll waive the background check. Just this once.”  

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Y/N taunts, yanking the door open and ducking into the shotgun seat, gently tugging it closed behind her. 

Once the human is situated in her spot, she releases a lengthy sigh, sinking down against the cushions as she grabs her seat belt and clicks it into place. 

Harry puts his cell phone down into the cubby hole below the stereo set, setting the car in reverse and slinging an arm behind her headrest to get a better view as he backs out of the parking space. His gaze momentarily flickers to her slumped form as the car retreats slowly, tone curious. “Long day?”

Y/N glimpses over, giving him a quick once-over and taking in his olive green Nike jumper, ripped denim boyfriend jeans, and pastel yellow Vans. He looks so boyishly cute, which is ironic given the premise of tonight’s rendezvous. The shoes (which he had worn the night they’d met all those weeks ago) and the position he’s in (perched above her with his sharp jaw and neck flexing as he cranes his torso to look for oncoming traffic) flashes her back to the first time she had been in his car. They had been way less acquainted, she had been much less relaxed, much more nervous, but the encounter very much carried the same exact intentions. That recollection makes her lips quirk a bit. The pair had grown so comfortable with each other since then, that Friday evening feels like it happened decades ago. 

“Yeah.” Y/N murmurs softly, gladly indulging a deep inhale of the vanilla and tobacco scent she had become familiar with, allowing it to soothe her nerves and wash away the stress of a hard day. “I’m just happy it’s over and that the weekend’s finally started. Wanna forget all about it.” 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, love!” Harry plops back into his seat, shifting his car into drive and gifting her his famous brilliant smile, dimples winking to life as he taps his ringed fingers across his steering wheel humorously. “I’ve made you forget your name plenty of times before; I’m pretty sure I can erase one shitty work shift just fine.”

Y/N scoffs at his pompous claim, reaching up and prying the hair tie out of her locks, looping it over her wrist and shushing her stiff roots. She tucks strands behind her ears, the corners of her mouth twitching in endearment at the giddiness of his aura. “Just drive, Sherlock.” 

The mortal isn’t surprised to find that building in which the vampire lives is one of the tallest in the city, and that it’s basically smack in the center, as well. One look at Harry and anybody could immediately tell he thrives off being the center of attention, so of course his home is a direct reflection of that. Refined boy, refined personality, refined environment. It’s practically a law of science. 

Once Harry’s car is parked and the ignition rumbles to a smooth stop, Y/N unbuckles her seat belt and goes to unlock the passenger’s side door. Right as her hand is wrapping around the handle bar, the door swings open of its own accord and she just barely manages to stifle a blood-curdling scream full of shocked fear. When her eyes focus, Harry is standing there holding the door open for her, features painted with cocky amusement. 

“How did you—?” The girl whips around to look at the empty driver’s seat, eyebrows cinching in bewilderment as she turns back to face him. “How did you get around so fast?” 

Harry shrugs his shoulders offhandedly, reaching one bejeweled hand down to aid her out of the vehicle. “I did track when I was younger. Made me a fast walker.” 

Y/N hesitantly takes it, body language still slightly tense from the jump scare. With his help, she gradually climbs out, the door shutting behind her as she sweeps her sight around the parking garage in wonder. This is the first time Harry has ever invited her anywhere, let alone to where he spends most of his life. She doesn’t want to miss a thing. Even the simplest aspect can tell you a lot about a person. 

Y/N jerks a tad when she feels her friend’s cold fingers slipping down her palm, sifting between her own. She glances down at their intertwined hands for a second, a warm glow bursting through her chest. She’s always admired how his are so much bigger. 

Harry tugs her forward toward the elevator at the other end of the parking lot, bottom lip caught between his teeth in a sly smirk. “C’mon, Watson. Let me show you around.” 

Y/N stumbles after him, allowing the boy to guide her to where she needs to go as he weeds through cars effortlessly. She suddenly chimes up from behind, asking a random question to fill the leftover silence their footsteps spare. “That car next to yours had such a weird license plate. What the fuck does ‘craic’ mean?” 

Harry chuckles knowingly, perfectly aware of whose car she is referring to. “It’s this odd thing Irish people say. Utter rubbish, honestly.” 

A comfortable quietness fills the air of the elegant elevator as it shoots up towards the twenty-fourth floor of the skyscraper, the only other sound being the gentle lullaby of a nameless tune wafting through the speakers above their heads. Harry finds himself studying Y/N as she looks out at the city through the glass walls, the lights of the exterior buildings casting a beautiful buttery gleam across her relaxed characteristics, along with a radiant glint over the surface of her glossy eyes. Despite the slightly smeared mascara staining her waterline and the inherent frizziness her hair carries after being pulled into a tight ponytail all day, Harry finds that she looks nice. Pretty, even. 

The girl senses him staring, craning her head to return his gaze, the edges of her lips lilting upwards lightheartedly. He returns the gesture, peeling away to focus on something— anything— else. He deems the control panel a worthy replacement.

As the numbers on the dial drag by, Harry finds himself absentmindedly thumbing over Y/N’s knuckles. She doesn’t seem to notice or mind, so he continues doing it, massaging the crest of each bump and pressing down gently along the troughs. He enjoys the sensation of her silky warm skin heating his icy own, and he ponders whether she likes how cold his touch is, or if she hates it as much as he does. He expels that notion from his mind; he refuses to let such a stupid concept upset him. He just keeps caressing her hand, restraining his mind from ambling too far into its meaning. It’s just to pass the time. 

He keeps the movements going until their ride skates to a joltless halt with a sharp ding! and then he steps out, having to give his full attention to leading her down the long corridor to his flat. Y/N is so caught up in drinking up her surroundings, she almost bumps into the creature when he comes to an abrupt stop in front of the entrance of what she can only deduce is his home. Harry drops her hand, much to her disappointment, fishing into his back pocket for his keys. He patiently filters through his keychain, picking out the right one and working it into the lock, a soft click emitting from the mechanism. 

Harry pushes the door open with his palm, standing off to the side just outside the threshold and tilting his head towards it, posture bowing slightly. “Ladies first.” 

Y/N thanks him quietly, taking a cautious step forward into his hallway. She can’t help the way her heart skips a beat at his gentlemanly tendencies; she rarely meets anyone as respectful as Harry seems to be and she finds his old-timey attributes to be refreshing. Helping her out the car, taking her hand to guide her through the parking lot, rubbing at her knuckles innocently, holding the door open for her— it’s all such an archaic form of chivalry she wishes she’d see more often these days. She doesn’t know if it’s a British thing, if he had just been raised like that, or if he simply does it to get laid, but she’s thankful for it either way. 

With one last glance at her friend over her shoulder, she begins wandering down the dark narrow path unsurely. The sound of the door slinking shut behind her and Harry’s footsteps ease her. 

She stops once she senses the corridor open up into a larger space, which she guesses is his living room. A soft gasp escapes her at the sight before her. The whole area is washed in darkness, the only source of light stemming from the large glass pane that stretches from the floor of the apartment to its tall ceiling. Dozens of buildings and cars glimmer below, the breath-taking image of the lively city looking almost like a snapshot from a professional movie. It’s absolutely gorgeous and she feels like she could stare at it for eons. 

A chilly hand suddenly presses along the dip of her spine, ushering her forward an inch or two, Harry’s invisible voice and warm breath hitting the shell of her left ear. “S’cuse me, dove.”   

The boy reaches behind her for the light switch and the condo bursts into radiance with one simple flick of his wrist. 

“Oh...my God.”

Harry’s home is something straight out of a luxury catalogue. The light floorboards and the mahogany panels. The massive leather couches and hand-sewn cushions. The extravagant chandeliers and glass staircase. The marble kitchen and generously packed liquor shelves. The ginormous wall of priceless artwork, littered with pieces from all different eras of history. It feels like stepping into a decor wonderland.

“Not too bad, huh?” Harry pipes up playfully, anchoring her back into reality from the floaty stupor that had consumed her mind. 

“Not too—? Are you kidding?” Y/N sputters incredulously, whizzing her head to the side sharply. “You were keeping an entire Four Seasons royal suite from me?!”

Harry belts out a bundle of childish giggles, the edges of his eyes crinkling and the tip of his button nose twitching. “I never thought of it much, to be honest. I’d grown to like your place.” 

“Right. Because a creaky mattress and a kitchen the size of a broom closet is so much more satisfying than chandeliers and a fucking glass wall.”

The vampire glimpses around his flat indicatively. “Okay, I see your point.”

“Exactly.” 

Y/N drifts forward, running the tips of her fingers across the backrest of the aged leather sofa and along the corners of the throw pillow, doing a slow circle at the middle of his home, taking everything in a second time around to make sure it isn’t a mirage. “Fuck, this is incredible. Is your boss looking for any more regional managers, by any chance?”

Harry follows after her, tucking his hands into the back pockets of his boyfriend jeans, chewing along the inside of his cheek to suppress a proud smile— a result of her explosive reaction. “I’m afraid my position is the one and only, sorry.”

Y/N droops her shoulders in exaggerated contempt, presenting a shitty English accent to tease him. “Bollocks.”

It garners the designated feedback, her tummy somersaulting at Harry’s exorbitant laughter. 

The boy comes to stand before her, cocking his head to the side questioningly towards his kitchen. “Can I offer you a drink?”

Y/N glimpses over at his bar area, eyes dancing over his extensive array of fancy bottles. “Oh, please do.”

Despite only having known Y/N for a few weeks, Harry has gotten quite acquainted with her tastes, even outside of sexual matters. She doesn't like the taste of alcohol, but she likes its effects. And he likes them, too, if he’s being honest. Her blood always begins to smell more appetizing after just a few sips and the way her cheeks heat up so easily when she’s buzzed always makes his breathing trip. 

He works his extensive skills, pulling from his liquor cabinet and mixing flavored liquids and syrups until he comes up with something that he thinks the girl will enjoy. It’s fruity, with hints of peach, lime, and strawberry, but also warm and fulfilling, with a rich whiskey and a few dashes of bitters. He plunks in a couple of ice cubes and mixes it together with a bar spoon, tapping it against the rim with finality and swiping it over his tongue in a quick taste test. He’s pretty happy with his concoction. 

Harry glances up to where Y/N is leaning against the armrest of his couch, her legs crossed before her as she stares at one of the abstract paintings mounted on his wall. It’s an original, as are the rest of them, which he had purchased some odd seventy years ago from a barely known artist whose talent had gone to waste in the world. It’s a deconstructed sunflower, with the color palette inverted and the strokes of the brush uneven and jagged. Odd and complicated, but beautiful, nonetheless. Its complexity is what makes it significant. 

The vampire slowly wanders over from his kitchen, holding her drink in one hand and a cloth napkin in the other. He takes the spot beside her along the armrest, speaking wistfully as if recalling a fond memory. “It’s a flower.”

Y/N nods slowly in recognition, peeling her gaze away with the corners of her lips jilting. “Mmhm, a sunflower.”

Harry’s brows jump in shock. Barely anyone ever guesses the identity correctly. He’s found that as time passes and humanity becomes more reliant on technology rather than cognizant knowledge, society in general has reduced to a more pea-brained state than ever. As a result, the amount of people who can interpret and understand the meaning behind complex artwork has greatly diminished, unfortunately, so he’s pleasantly surprised to find that one of the few who still possesses that talent happens to be the girl he’s shagging. “Wow, that’s a first. It’s so unusual, no one ever really gets it.”

“I guess I just have an affinity for the unusual.” His guest quips, giving him a jesting shrug of her eyebrows and a suggestive grin. 

You have no idea.

“You underestimated me, Holmes.” 

“That I did. My sincerest apologies.” Harry returns her joking simper, proceeding to then dip an index finger inside the stout glass in his grasp, bringing it up before her face. “Taste.”

Without breaking eye contact, Y/N parts her lips and allows him to coax the wet digit in, the tangy flavor of the mixture making her taste buds tingle. She encloses her mouth around his finger, lulling her tongue along it slowly with a mischievous glint shining across her irises. 

Harry’s prominent jaw clenches as he watches the scene unfold, breath bated and a moan threatening to betray him. She truly wastes no time.

He gradually pulls his finger from her tongue, struggling to clear his throat, missing its texture already. “How is it? More syrup? More biters?”

Y/N gazes up at him drunkenly, though it’s definitely not from the liquor. Her lips quirk cheekily as a result of how visibly frazzled she’d gotten him. “It’s perfect. Better than anything I’ve had at a club, that’s for sure.” 

“Yeah?” Harry taps his opal ring against the bottom of the lowball glass, trying to reign in his previous composure. “Think I could be a bartender?” 

“You don’t hit me as the type of person who has the patience for it.” The girl remarks wittily, slinking her head to the side and biting back a giggle when Harry makes a face at her.

“You make a valid point, I suppose.” The vampire responds with an airy sigh, nodding in surrender. “The stupid blabbing from drunk morons and impending fear of being vomited on would be too much for me. I wouldn’t last a day.” 

“You wouldn’t last a single night, let alone a whole day.”

“Alright, pipe down!” Harry deadpans, bumping her shoulder with his vengefully. “You’re bruising my ego.”

“It’s humongous,” Y/N snorts, shoving him in return, “it can take a few hits.”

The pair sit there in silence for a suspended moment, just taking in the expanse of the art before them. Harry then turns his torso towards her once more, bringing the drink in his grip up to her mouth. “Here, have a proper sip. Put my all into it.” 

Y/N obliges, looking up at him with her signature doe-like air of trusting innocence, allowing him to tip the hem of the cup against her mouth. The cool beverage filters through her taste buds and down her throat, the sweet and sour mixture leaving an enjoyable tingle in its wake. A few streams of the liquid bead out of the corners of her lips and Harry impulsively gathers them with the side of his index finger, the napkin in his other hand completely forgotten. 

As he goes to pull back in order to clean up, Y/N leans forward and traps his digit between her lips like before. This time, there’s a more insistent sultry hint sparkling around her pupils. 

“Christ...” Harry pants, watching Y/N work her way down his forefinger with a silent groan hinging on his teeth. 

He doesn’t deny himself from indulging the dirty action this time around. Her mouth is as soft and warm as ever, sending chills racing down his spine despite the sweater hugging his body. His mind slips for a second, reminiscing in all the other ways he’s felt the inside of her mouth before, a faint red tinge splattering across his cheekbones. 

Y/N draws his finger out, kissing messily across its length and over the pad, looking up at him through tension-heavied lashes. She doesn't speak a word, but her intentions are clear in the electricity between them.

He can’t hold back any longer, his next comment coming out as a pained growl. “God, you’re such a filthy little thing.”  

She hums softly in the back of her throat at his explicit compliment, suckling at the center of her bottom lip needily. “I like being your filthy little thing.”

Harry swallows thickly in order to keep himself somewhat tame, fangs suddenly pricking his tongue in warning.

The mortal scoots closer to him, sifting her fingers between his around the drink and bringing it upwards, downing the last couple of inches in one go. She draws the cup from his grasp, reaching over to set it down carefully on the coffee table before turning back and snuggling deeper into his heaving chest. 

Harry scoffs in amusement, but he can feel a certain charring scratching at the back of his throat. “Drinks like that are meant to be savored, darling. You’re not supposed to just pound them.” 

Y/N stretches her neck upwards, taking his earlobe between her teeth, lips wet and cold from the alcohol. His lashes flutter when her warm breath hits his skin, contradicting the sensations from before. 

“Why don’t you let me worry about how I drink, and you can worry about a different kind of pounding.”

And that’s all it takes, really. That’s all it takes for Harry to completely drop any self-control he has left. 

The creature jars his face towards her, large hand shooting upwards to grip her jaw firmly, holding her in place as he crashes their mouths together. It’s all tongue and clacking teeth, desperate whines and stuttered gasps. Y/N’s hands fumble for something to tether to while Harry takes it upon himself to grasp at her opposite hip with his free hand, yanking her onto his lap. She buries her fists in the cotton fabric of his jumper, balancing her knees on either sides of his parted thighs. The boy’s fingers coast from her jaw down to her throat, tightening ever so slightly. The action is minimal, but it reveals that flare of dominance Y/N has become addicted to. 

“Do you want it here?” Harry rasps against her eager tongue, smirking into the kiss when he feels her start to rock along the bulge that is beginning to tent his denim pants. “Do you want me to bend you over the couch and fuck you, baby? With the chandelier making your skin glow? Where we can put on a show for the whole city to see?”

It’s a tempting offer and his words obviously have some form of impact, seen in the way Y/N’s grinding takes on a hungrier, deeper pace against his clothed cock. 

“I want…” Y/N finds it difficult to voice her desires, the responsible party being the manner in which Harry glues cracked mewls onto the roof of her mouth. “I want it in your bed.” 

She doesn’t know why, but she just wants him to take her some place where the moment they share is intimate, unseen by the prying eyes of others. She wants to christen his bed exactly how he had done hers; she craves that strange connection, for some reason. Y/N isn’t naive, she knows she’s not the only person Harry has had in his home and in his sheets. But she wants that experience, nonetheless, even if it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She knows she’s not his only, but at least she’s one. 

Harry slowly breaks their kiss, brushing the tip of his nose across her own in a small comforting gesture. He blinks at her groggily, the copper specks in his eyes glitzing under the golden hue of the lighting. When he speaks, its soft and low, almost as if he doesn’t want to risk another soul overhearing. “Okay. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” 

Y/N almost doesn’t get anything she wants, given that she nearly kills herself on the trek up the stairs, courtesy of her weakened knees and wobbly ankles. Harry just barely manages to save her, but he finds the occurrence too hilarious to spare her the embarrassment. 

“Stop laughing, it’s not funny!” She exclaims indignantly as he helps her up the last few glass steps, clinging to him like a scared puppy, her hands still shaking with adrenaline. “I could have died!” 

Her shrieking only makes him laugh harder and he nearly keels over, palm clutching his stomach as if to keep it from popping. “I’m sorry, I really am, but it’s just— your face when you— and how you tripped sideways— I—”

Y/N shoves him hard towards the corridor where his bedroom lies, but it’s hard to maintain an angry demeanor when the young man’s giggles sound like bells and when he looks so cute with his curls flopping across his forehead. “Dickhead.” 

They’re almost at his bedroom door when Harry grabs onto her wrist, tugging her roughly so that she lurches forward into his chest. He plants a wet kiss onto the bridge of her nose, expression entertained. “Stop being such a bad sport. It was pretty funny.”

“Yeah, okay.” She huffs begrudgingly, glancing down impatiently at his plump lips as he walks backwards down the hallway with her in tow. “You can invalidate my rage once you have a near death experience yourself.”

The irony of it all. 

Harry kicks the door open, ghosting his mouth over Y/N’s and watching her sight do a quick sweep around the area. “Welcome to my lair.” 

The human likes his aesthetic. The room has different hues of the same color, so it all ties together nicely, and the hanging lights look like miniature versions of the two large ones downstairs. The bed is huge, which is a relief because for once, they won’t have to actively worry about accidentally rolling off the edge mid-fuck. “It’s nice. Very chic.” 

“Thanks.” Harry reaches up and cups either side of her neck with his palms, dragging his damp lips over her chin and down the center of her jugular, smiling against her skin when he feels her shiver. “It doesn't have a bookshelf wall like yours, but I make due.”

“Yeah.” Y/N wisps out weakly, leaning her head back as he speckles his mouth across that sensitive point on her throat he discovered ages ago. “I bet.”

She feels Harry’s touch travel down her torso, cold fingers suddenly smearing across her love handles beneath her work shirt. His grip tightens at the hem with the intention of pulling the polo off, breath hot as it washes over her collarbones. “Wanna find out just how good I make it work?”

Y/N’s arms instinctively raise on command, her reply shaky and fragile. “Yes, please.” 

Harry makes it work. He makes it work so fucking well. He doesn’t need crazy positions or any vibrating toys to make her feel good; he just knows her so thoroughly by now that he’s able to tend to every single one of her needs like it’s his sole purpose. The sex is missionary, with her splayed out across her back upon his mound of feathered pillows, her thighs clamped over his hips as he slams into her at a harsh, curt pace. Her calves are tied around the backs of his thighs, her nails are carving memories into the broad expanse of his shoulders, they’re both panting curse words and encouragement into each other’s mouths, and he’s cradling her to his chest as if he wants to absorb her heartbeat right through her ribs. If only obtaining one were that easy. 

Y/N allows her head to fall back against the cushions, drawing away from the prolonged kiss only because she needs air to continue. Harry’s lips busy themselves elsewhere, running down the valley of her chest and toying with one of her pebbled nipples. Y/N’s back gives a sharp arch the second he brushes across the sensitive nub and the taunting coo he releases goes straight to her core. 

“Liked that, darling? Like it when I kiss you there?”

The girl’s lashes have fallen shut, her eyes lulling around in their sockets as he maintains a steady rhythm between her thighs, ramming into her with so much force, the headboard is knocking into the wall. It’s loud and intense enough that Harry has to fit one of his palms between the railings, bracing the weight of the bed in order to prevent a hole from forming. 

Y/N’s voice fills the dense atmosphere, so shattered and raw, she can hardly understand herself. “It feels so— so good, H.” 

“I love it when you call me that. Sounds so pretty coming from your lips.” The vampire’s tongue flicks over her nipple a handful of times, dark veins momentarily webbing over the whites of his eyes at the cracked whimper she lets loose. “And of course it feels good. I always make you feel good, don’t I? Always make my girl cum so—fucking—hard.” 

Y/N’s trembling fingers card into the curls along the nape of Harry’s neck as he thrusts to his words, twisting them around her knuckles and swimming in the throaty groan he pours over the clammy skin of her breasts. Her whisper sounds distant and dreamy. “Please...Please don’t stop.”

Harry gazes up at her through heavy lashes, lapping at her chest more fervently, accent thick and deep. “I won’t, baby. Not until I have you dripping all over my sheets.”

After a few more minutes of fractured moans bouncing around the panels of the room and the noise of wet skin slapping together, something catches Y/N’s bleary eyes. She wills past the blissful fog in her mind, focusing on the intriguing object hanging from one of the railings of Harry’s bedpost, swaying back and forth wildly due to his strong tempo. 

“Are those...Are those handcuffs?” 

Harry’s attention jumps to where hers is pinned, his powerful stride coming to a gradual stop. He’s heaving and shuddering above her, ringlets matted to his jaw and across his temples, cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of cherry red. His Adam’s Apple bobs once and he gives a short nod. “Y-Yeah. I’ve had them for a while...”

The hope dripping from his voice is practically palpable and Y/N interprets it easily. She glances down at him as he takes quivering inhales against her chest, his eyes bleeding lust. Her mumble is so quiet and soft, he wonders how it’s possible for her to make some of the preposterously loud sounds he’s used to hearing whenever he’s buried this deep. “Use them on me. Please?”

Harry bends to her request without hesitation. He locks her wrists into the restraints, sponging a kiss onto each before giving them one hard tug to check for security. He then regains his rough slams, but with more fervor than before. 

The monster sits back onto his heels, groping her waist roughly and working her against his thighs, watching welts form on her flesh along the pads of his fingers. Y/N unconsciously begins circling her hips to match his speed and the fractured groan that rips out of him makes her walls tighten. He looks incredible looming in front of her, head toppled back between his shoulder blades, bouncing to his every ram. His throat flexes with the weight, jaw taut and inked pectorals glistening with sweat under the dim lights dangling from his ceiling. “That’s it, pet, just like that. Love the way you ride it. You’re so fucking tight and warm and...and just— Christ, just fuck me.”

She wishes she could frame this moment in time and drag it out forever.  

Harry swings his head forward again, blinking the blurriness from his vision to take in the image before him. Y/N just looks so fucking gorgeous like that, tied down at his beck and call, her chest bouncing pertly as her fingers bunch around the chain link, thighs clinging to his waist as she chews her bottom lip raw in an attempt to control her noises. 

The vampire ducks down, connecting their mouths in a sloppy kiss that cajoles her into spilling all the moans she had been withholding. He feels them trickle down his lungs and diffuse into his bones, flames lapping across his insides as their foreheads bump and noses smudge, ragged breaths intermingling. “Let it out for me, hm? Wanna know how I’m making you feel, don’t care who hears.”

As if that isn’t enough, there’s an instance where Harry’s animalistic senses suddenly enhance and he comes to the realization that the metal cuffs have made a tiny laceration along her skin. 

A thin trail of blood travels down her suspended arm, but she doesn’t seem to notice, too lost in the pleasure Harry is pounding into the pit of her stomach. So he simply leans upwards and licks the sweet droplet clean, feeling heat spark across every fiber of his being. He laps up the entire stream and then presses a tender kiss to her palm for good measure, grunting out a gentle, “There’s a good girl.” when she whines at the affectionate gesture. 

The release Harry is getting from between Y/N’s legs mixes with the ecstasy her blood brings, and it shoves him over the edge in a manner he hasn’t experienced since that first time they slept together all those weeks ago. Since the first time he tasted what lies in her veins, while also simultaneously getting to taste the indescribable relief her body so readily brings him.

After all is said and done that night, something peculiar happens. After they both milk their orgasms for everything it’s worth, and after Y/N gives into exhaustion in his arms with her wrists bruised and a content watery smile on her face, and after he gets a heftier drink from her neck and heals the two little puncture wounds with his own blood...The most bizarre, unexpected event occurs. 

Harry falls asleep soundly for the first time in months, and all he dreams about is how Y/N tasted. 

///

Y/N wakes up the next morning to her body covered in Harry’s Nike jumper, to an empty spot beside her in the messy duvet, to a familiar tune tinging her ears from a distance, and to a satisfying ache between her thighs. 

As soon as she cracks the bedroom door open, the smell of pancakes wafts in through the chilled morning air. Specifically, lemon and blueberry pancakes. Her grandmother’s lemon and blueberry pancakes.

A shiver runs down Y/N’s spine the second she sets a toe along the cold glass panels of Harry’s staircase. She takes a deep breath, pulling the extra length of the sweater’s sleeves over her fists and tugging the hem of the article downwards as if she could convince it to cover more than just half her thighs. She carefully works her way down the steps, flinching at the iciness that travels up her legs with every motion. When she finally thunks down emptily onto the light-wash floorboards, her body has grown accustomed to the temperature. As she pads across the furry rug in Harry’s living room, she finds herself wondering why everything connected to him is always so unusually cold— colder than any normal person could withstand. His touch, his lips, the tip of his nose, his forehead, his chest, even his thighs; everything is always freezing, and she doesn’t understand how he can bear it. It’s such an odd affinity to have. 

The human gradually wanders into the vampire’s kitchen, peeking inside the room from behind one of the archway’s walls. What she sees throws her for a loop. 

Harry is cooking breakfast, as she expected from the sweet scent she’d awoken to, but he’s doing it in a manner she never really expected from him. 

Music stems from a portable speaker he has situated at the center of the marble kitchen island, blaring loud enough to fill the entire giant home with high notes, guitar chords, and acapella riffs. The young man is dancing across his kitchen as he cooks, clad in nothing but a set of black Calvin Klein briefs and a pair of fuzzy magenta socks. Y/N rakes down his body, admiring the crimson and purple love bites she had left on his chest and the raspberry red scratches zig-zagging across his back, the marks flexing with the movements of his muscles. They’re strangely faint, for some reason. Practically barely there. 

She chalks it up to the fact that maybe she hadn’t bruised him as much as she’d thought. 

Y/N forces herself to keep her mind from straying onto anymore explicit topics; it’s probably not even ten A.M. yet. She needs to get herself under control.

Grooving while in the kitchen isn’t necessarily weird (she’s guilty of it herself), but Harry’s dancing techniques very much are. The only accurate depiction of it is that for a boy in his twenties, he dances like an old geezer in his eighties. His moves are choppy and old-schooled, almost like what you’d expect to see in a nineteen fifties disco hall, and watching him ebb and flow across the tiled ground to choreography similar to that of Dirty Dancing and Footloose... It would send anybody into a fit of laughter. Especially since Harry is so tall and lanky, so how he manages to move in such a way is beyond her understanding. 

Aside from that, his choice of music is baffling, as well. Not only because she recognizes the soundtrack, but because she would have never expected someone like him— with his cocky behavior and overly-confident caliber— to be into these types of songs at all. She always pegged him for the seventies rock and roll type. 

“You like Hamilton?” 

Harry’s actions creak to a halt and he whips around towards where the disturbance had stemmed, spatula clutched in one hand and a marble plate stacked with pancakes in the other. His face breaks into a bright smile, voice slathered with dramatic friendliness. “Well, look who finally got up! I was starting to think you were dead, Sleeping Beauty.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him mockingly, walking over to the kitchen counter and propping herself onto her elbows, chin in hand as she watches him set down the platter of food before her. She tips forward onto her toes, taking a deep inhale of the homey, sugary smell, letting it wash over her in flashes of childhood memories. “Are these like the ones I make?”

“Lemon and blueberry, yeah.” Harry bobs his head casually, turning around to place his metal spatula down into the sink, as well as to retrieve a glass bottle of maple syrup from one of his cupboards. “They’re pretty close, I think. I’ve never seen you use a recipe or measuring cups or anything when you make them, so I kinda eyeballed it to the best of my ability. Hope I did your nan justice.”

He pours a decently-sized glop of syrup over the mountain of treats and Y/N watches excitedly as it trickles down all the layers. He then pushes back from the table, pulling open a drawer and rummaging through, continuing to whistle along to the tune of Satisfied as he bops the cabinet closed with his hip and sets down an extra pair of forks and knives beside the plate. 

Harry cuts a neat triangle out of the pancake at the top, pointing at her with his fork as he shrugs his brows nonchalantly. “And to answer your question from before: yes, I do like Hamilton.”

“Hm. Interesting.” Y/N murmurs, going cross-eyed as Harry offers her the forkful of food in his possession, poking at her mouth playfully and getting maple syrup all over her lips. She opens obediently, allowing him to feed her the piece. “You don’t really seem like the type of guy— oh, wow, these are actually really good!”

Harry bites into his lower lip with his two front teeth, a proud smile dimpling his cheeks as the light draft from the air vent ruffles a couple of his sex-mussed ringlets across his forehead. “Yeah? You mean it?”

The mortal nods her head vigorously as she finishes chewing and swallowing, wiping away some of the leftover syrup from her top lip with her middle finger and sucking it clean. “Yeah! You hit it spot on.”

“Aces. I should be on The Great British Bake Off.” Harry makes a small, celebratory fist bump next to his hip and the childish gesture makes Y/N snort softly. 

“Like I was saying, you don’t really strike me as the type of guy who would be into musicals.” The girl comments, watching her friend cut another triangle out of the first pancake and pop it into his own mouth. 

The vampire chews thoughtfully for a second, lifting one shoulder offhandedly and swallowing fully before talking. “I’m really not, to be honest. But this specific musical is pretty good. The songs are catchy.”

He nudges the other pair of utensils across the counter for emphasis, silently inviting her to dig into the dish along with him. She accepts, slicing down the other side of the stack as he leans forward onto his elbows, mimicking her stance. He gives her a curious glance. “What about you? Do you like musicals?” 

Y/N shrugs, poking a few chunks of food onto her fork. “Not really, but I had a major Hamilton phase back in college. That’s why I recognized it.” 

Harry hums in understanding, picking a blueberry off and chewing it slowly, a sly smirk beginning to tweak the corners of his mouth. “So were you, like, a nerd back then?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say a nerd, but I had decent grades and was pretty quiet.”

He swallows down audibly, blinking impassively. “That’s literally the definition of a nerd.” 

Y/N returns his flat expression. “Fuck off.”

Harry throws his palms up in peaceful surrender, but he still has that shit-eating grin present. “Alright, fine, fine...It’s okay if you were, though. You were probably one of those cute ones, y’know? With the clunky glasses and innocent goody-goody face.” 

“Shut up.”

“Oh, and with one of those short little plaid skirts?” He releases a pained groan, clutching his chest and closing his eyes for a second. She has no doubt he’s sketching some type of graphic image of her in his mind. “God, I bet you looked so good. Do you still have it? Can you wear it for me?”

“I said shut up!” Y/N reaches forward and stabs at his tummy lightly with her fork, ignoring the warmth crawling up her neck and across her cheeks. “Fucking perv.”

Harry smacks her utensil away with his own, giggling lightly as she tries to prick him again, continuing to fight her off. “I’m just asking a question! For science!” 

Y/N twists her fork around his, trying to outmaneuver him into dropping it. “How could my fashion sense in college possibly contribute to science in any way?” 

The vampire easily catches onto her play, slipping himself out of her grasp and trying to trap her makeshift sword down against the tabletop. He purses his lips into a simper, glimpsing up at her through his lashes and quirking his brows cheekily. “Biologically, of course. It contributes to my solo reproductive activities.”

“You are vile.” 

“Really? ‘Cause you seemed pretty happy to help with said activities last night.” 

Y/N drops her fork onto the brim of the platter, reaching up to massage at her temples and keep herself from swatting Harry’s eyeballs out of their sockets. “I’m finished.” 

“Yeah,” the jade of his irises glimmers coyly as he sets down his utensil beside hers in a ceasefire, “you definitely finished.”

Harry chuckles boyishly as Y/N drags her palms down her face, trying to hide away how flustered he’s getting her. She decides to change the subject, not caring to steer the conversation smoothly at all, but rather jumping to another topic right away. “So does this mean you have all the lyrics memorized? Since you like them so much?” 

“I do, yeah.” Harry taps his fingers against the marble counter to the beat of the song currently playing. “Do you?” 

“I was obsessed, so of course I do.” Y/N reasons, her own digits following in tune with the immortal’s. “I think Non-Stop was probably my favorite to sing. It made for a good shower concert.”

“Well, it’s settled then.” Harry quips happily, reaching for his phone and tapping across the screen. “We’re duetting this. Right now. C’mon, Burr.”

Y/N’s motions stop, shyness creeping in from the back of her brain. “Oh, I don’t know, Harry. I never really—”

Her refusal is interrupted by the beginning of the arrangement mentioned, the notes blasting through the speaker as Harry purposefully turns up the volume to drown her out. He taps at his ear symbolically, mouthing, “Sorry, I can't hear you!” and he doesn’t even attempt to ward off the evil grin creeping across his face. 

“Harry, I’m serious—” 

But it’s already too late. Harry juts his hand out in front of him, pointing at his companion with a theatrical edge as he begins to serenade, picking up the slack of her part. 

“After the war I went back to New York. A-After the war I went back to New York. I finished up my studies and I practiced law. I practiced law, Burr worked next door!”

He looks at her expectantly, urging her to jump into the next half as her assigned role. Y/N muscles down her hesitation and recites the lines timidly with her brows creased in hesitation, but at least she’s participating. “Even though we started at the very same time, Alexander Hamilton began to climb. How to account for his rise to the top?”

Harry joins her in the next stanza, grabbing her hand midair in encouragement, trying to shake her out of her rut. “Man, the man is non-stop!”

Y/N is surprised at how well they sound harmonizing together, and she can feel her discomfort slowly begin to melt. She watches as Harry freely boasts his solo with absolutely no remorse, making grand gestures as he slides down the side of the counter, his movements dragging her along. 

“Gentlemen of the jury, I'm curious, bear with me. Are you aware that we're making history?” The boy taps at his chin to symbolize that he’s thinking, acting out the story the lyrics construct. “This is the first murder trial of our brand-new nation, the liberty behind deliberation.”

He points at Y/N once again and she does the supporting vocals, gradually beginning to gain more confidence. “Non-stop!”

“I intend to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt, with my assistant counsel—”

Harry doesn’t even have to cue Y/N this time around; she picks up her half immediately, falling into line with him flawlessly as if they’ve done this a million times before. “Co-counsel. Hamilton, sit down. Our client Levi Weeks is innocent, call your first witness.”

Harry quickly rounds the corner of the kitchen island, giving her body a grand spin as he draws closer, coming to stand right before her. She gives him a fake exasperated look to match the attitude her character depicts, shaking her head in disapproval. “That's all you had to say.”

“Okay…” The creature yanks Y/N forward into his bare chest, leaning down and flirting his lips right over hers tauntingly, eyes half-lidded in amusement. “One more thing—”

“Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room?” The girl rolls her eyes dramatically, shoving past Harry’s shoulder and she finds it humorous how these lines fit so well, almost as if they were actually directed at him, calling him out on the arrogance he always seems to dote. “Why do you assume you're the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude may be your doom.”

Harry swivels on his heel, following her as she scurries outside the kitchen entrance, running into the living room. 

“Why do you write like you're running out of time?” Y/N grabs onto one of the couch cushions, pretending to scribble over it with a fake pen. “Write day and night, like you're running out of time? Everyday you fight, like you're running out of time.”

Harry swipes at her from across the couch, trying to grasp onto the jumper she’s wearing. “Keep on fighting in the meantime.”

Y/N ducks out of the path of his grabbing hand, chucking the pillow forward and it bonks him square in the face. She sticks her tongue out at him as Harry scowls dully, climbing onto his sofa and scuttling towards her on his hand and knees.

She jumps just out of reach, diving across the other end of the furniture. The vampire throws his weight to try and tackle her to the sofa, but she just barely escapes. He ends up toppling over the backrest due to his over-abundant momentum. 

“Non-stop!” Y/N waves her middle up at him triumphantly as he pushes himself up off the ground, giving her a challenging look as he takes off after her once again. 

The pair continue to sing back and forth, with Harry chasing Y/N around the living room and kitchen as he belts out his part of the song, Y/N always somehow managing to slip from his grasp as soon as her turn hits. They’re a mess of giggles, silly faces, and boisterous actions as they reenact the play and neither can recall a time they had ever had more fun. There’s never been an instance when they felt so comfortable with another soul that they are willing to run around half-naked, screaming lyrics at each other in their underwear, not caring who sees or overhears. It just feels so second-nature.

A section of the song comes up where a woman is singing and Harry immediately takes up the part, placing his hand on his bare hip and standing in the most feminine fashion he can possibly muster, fanning at his face. “I am sailing off to London, I am accompanied by someone who always pays.” 

The exaggeration makes Y/N bend over laughing and her distraction allows Harry to nab her. He pulls her into his embrace by her forearms, cackling through the following stanza as she wriggles and squirms to try and get free. “I have found a wealthy husband who will keep me in comfort for all my days.” 

Y/N finally gives up on trying to thrash herself free, going limp against his chest and glimpsing up at him with begrudged annoyance, but a fond smile is unmistakably buckling her cheeks. Harry leans down, singing right in her face just to flaunt his victory, their noses brushing. “He is not a lot of fun, but…”

And then, there’s a shift in the ambiance between them. 

Harry gazes down at her as she giggles up at him from his arms, full of so much genuine warmth and excitement, she could power the entire city if she wanted. Her shoulders are heaving slightly as a result of all the running, there’s still faint traces of black mascara smeared under her waterline and down her cheeks from the previous evening’s exertions, she has some acne scarring littering her cheekbones that look fairly recent, and her hair looks like it could nest a family of at least ten birds. But despite these imperfections, Harry finds himself feeling oddly endeared by it all. These flaws are all things he’s gotten used to and has grown to treasure in Y/N. They make her who she is. They make her witty, and they make her clever. They make her fun, as well as trusting. They make her likeable, and energetic, and kind. They make her a good friend and a generous lover. They make her... her. Harry gets the feeling that if she didn’t have all of these traits— if even one was missing— this little arrangement they have going wouldn’t have flourished the way it did. 

Yeah, maybe he would have slept with her once or twice more just to scratch an itch, but he most likely would have let it fizzle to an end after the fact. Her personality paired with these small details— albeit, not all entirely attractive— that make up her existence play a key role in the dynamic they share. And he wouldn’t trade them for anything else— wouldn't trade Y/N for anyone else. Not anytime soon. 

A warm surge travels through his chest, filling his veins like kerosine, heating him from the heels of his socked feet to the tips of his ice cold fingers. An unorthodox swelling sensation twists inside his ribs, right where his heart used to beat, and he finds himself reciting the next line in a soft voice packed with more emotion than he’s shown or felt in the last two centuries.

“There’s no one who can match you, for turn of phrase…”

Y/N seems oblivious to all of the unsettling experiences he’s undergoing, her amused expression not changing in the slightest. Harry allows the rest of the song lyrics to pass by, the lump in his throat too heavy to fight. Instead, he just keeps staring down at Y/N with brows frowning in confusion, his breathing coming out bated and shaky, and that knot in his chest continuing to tighten until it becomes painful. He gets the sudden urge to kiss her— to feel her lips press to his and feel her give into him the way she always does. The way she has for the last four weeks. He doesn’t want it to be sloppy or desperate or sexual; he wants it to be intimate, soft, and caring. He wants it to be special. Something they share. Something only they share.

Then, that moment passes. That flicker of weakness that had leaked through vanishes and Harry feels like he can breathe properly again.

He breaks their locked eyes, releasing Y/N from his hold and taking a swift step back, coughing awkwardly to try and rid the tickling sensation in the back of his throat. He scratches at the nape of his neck nervously, fiddling with his baby curls and attempting to piece himself back together after that unexpected and unwelcome intrusion of his innermost feelings. Though, he doesn’t know if that spectacle even files under the category of emotions; from what he remembers, they aren’t supposed to tangibly attack you in such a manner. It felt more like a violation— like someone had gone in and started poking and prodding at his subconscious with a metal skewer. 

“Harry…?” Y/N inches closer to him, concern prevalent in her voice and across her features as she stretches her hand out caringly. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.” 

“I-I’m—” His voice comes out higher than usual and quivering, so he coughs once again to get it under control, taking another step back. He's scared that if she touches him, that horrible burning sensation will come back. “I’m fine. Just...Just forgot the lyrics.” 

“Oh, okay…” The girl doesn’t sound convinced with the answer, but she lets the subject falter anyways, her hand dropping back down beside her thigh. “Just checking.” 

“Yeah, I got that. Uh, thanks. But I’m all good now.” He holds up a clenched first and juts out his pinky, wiggling it for significance. “Promise”

Y/N scoffs gently at his playful deed. “Alright, then.” 

Harry eyes her attentively as she returns to her previous spot in front of the plate of pancakes, retrieving her fork and starting to pick at them like before, as if nothing had happened. As if Harry hadn’t just almost had a cardiac arrest, despite the fact that the organ responsible had crumbled to dust ages ago.

“Are you gonna eat anymore?” Y/N signals down at the stack of pastries before her questioningly. “Because if you don’t get some now, I’ll eat them all myself. Don’t think I won’t. They’re better than the ones I make and—”

The vampire suddenly feels like bile is rising up his throat and his words spew out before he can think to stop them, though he’s not so sure he would. 

“Do you want to stay over the rest of the weekend?”

[saintorchid]

Bunny Bodysuit (Reupload)

Nanami comes home from overtime and all he wants is cuddles with you, however you have another motive. 

A/N: Hey ya’ll so sorry for not updating but I’ll try to be consistent from now on. Thank you for your patience. 

word count 1.6k ________________________________________________________________

Nanami comes home stressed and horny, a lethal combination. Overtime has been interfering with his personal life with you. It’s late, and Nanami just wants to be by your side. 

Nanami walks up to the bedroom door, noticing the door slightly ajar. He sees you through the door, but you don’t see him. He sees you putting on a black bodysuit that hugs your curves nicely. He notices how plump your ass is. One time while the two of you were cuddling. You asked him what part of your body does he like the most. Nanami, always a gentleman, says everything. You let out a satisfactory hum and continue to cuddle in silence. What he wants to say is your ass. It’s his ultimate de-stressor. He likes to massage your plump ass feeling your skin light up with a single touch.

Nanami continued to watch, seeing you check out your ass. You slapped your ass, seeing it jiggle. Seeing you like this makes Nanami go feral; however, he is always a gentleman first. You then reach into a drawer and pull out a black bunny ear headband. You start to admire your body. Your hands travel from your waist to your stomach and onto your breasts.

He walks into the bedroom; you didn’t notice him at first but feeling a pair of arms wrapped around your waist made you melt.

You smile at the tall blonde man and start swaying your body and his together. He then starts to run his hands all over your body. He reaches for your thighs. He gently massages them with his callous hands. You sigh into the touch, and you soon start to feel your body warm up.

All of a sudden, you no longer feel the ground below you. Nanami gently places you on the bed. He looks into your eyes, eyes filled with hunger, passion, and love. Only you can see him like this.

Nanami takes his favorite spotted tie and tells you to sit on your knees.

You knew what was coming, and you were 100% on board.

Like the obedient bunny, you are you do as your told. Nanami ties your wrists with his tie and tells you not to move. You stay waiting patiently while other parts of your body are becoming impatient. He goes into the walk-in closet and pulls out a black velvet box.

You see him walk out with such swiftness you feel your body tingle.

He stands in front of you with a primal look in his eyes. His presence just got more intimidating.

You now realized that when Nanami acts like this, you can only refer to him using the word “Sir”. Something you learned quickly when it came to having sex with Nanami. You admire how his dress shirt clings to his muscles and see the faint trace of his member slowly making its presence known.

Nanami snaps his fingers, and you immediately look at him and his piercing blue eyes.

“You know, bunny, seeing you dressed like this makes me want to kiss and bite every inch of your skin.”

You visibly gulp, and Nanami smiles. Like an animal who has caught his prey.

“You see, I was saving this for someday special, but every day is special with you, bunny.”

The man in front of you who has broken two bed frames because his thrusts are ruthless makes you blush hard.

He pulls out a black egg vibrator and the remote. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but your pussy couldn’t be even more excited.

With the toy in hand, he tells you to open your legs. You shift, parting your legs as far as you could. He walks over to you, noticing the wet spot that has been forming since he tossed you onto the bed.

“You’re a wet bunny, and I’m gonna turn you into a fucking fountain.”

He grabs your legs harshly to pulls you closer to him.

He pulls aside your bodysuit and notices that you have no underwear.

He whispers into your ear, “You are playing a dangerous game, bunny.”

His baritone voice makes the dull feeling in your lower stomach even more intense.

He places the vibrator under your bodysuit, and it directly touches your clit.

His following command was for you to lay down on to the bed, which you gladly do. He turns on the vibrator on the first setting. A slow, gentle vibration begins to kiss your clit. You immediately began to close your legs, but to no avail, Nanami was sandwich between them.

“Tsk tsk, keep your legs open, bunny or else. This is your first strike.”

You gulp, knowing that if you got more than three strikes, he would edge you for a week. You nodded your head and saw Nanami slowly get comfortable between your legs. His member was now slowly making itself noticeable, but he ignored it. It’s all about you today.

You bite your lip, feeling the slow pace of pressure buildup.

Nanami is on top of you and leans down to kiss you.

His kisses are always so soft—each kiss filled with passion and love.

He then forces his tongue into your mouth. You go wide-eyed but close your eyes immediately, feeling the warmth of his tongue in your mouth.

The two of you have been kissing, and all of a sudden, you broke the kiss feeling your body jolt. Nanami increases the speed of the vibrator, and your legs begin to hold his waist a little tighter. Your tied wrists flail, trying to reach for something to hold onto; Nanami notices the desperation in your actions.

He tells you that you can put your arms over this neck. You place your arms over his neck and start to caress the blonde hair. He lets out a small groan.

The pleasure is getting more intense slowly but much faster than before. All of a sudden, you weren’t on the bed anymore. You were now straddling Nanami, sandwiched at the spot you most desired. Then your body jolts once again, feeling Nanami now rubbing himself against your needy clit. With the added pressure, you begin to moan softly.

You toss your head back, letting pleasure consume you. Nanami sits up and reaches for your clothed breasts. He starts to roll them, and the fabric rubbing against your nipples makes your body tingle even more.

You slowly started to leak onto Nanami's tan pants. Your body is close but not there yet.

Nanami lets go of your breasts and presses the remote for a final time. The vibrator is now at its highest setting. You start to moan loudly.

“Sir, Sir, I don’t think I can take it anymore. Please, sir, may I come.”

Nanami starts to grind even harder. Your needy clit doesn’t know if it can handle anymore.

“Oh, my sweet bunny, of course, you can, under one condition.”

“Anything for you, sir,” you said in desperation.

“What you are going to do is count my spanks. From 1 to 5. Think you can handle that bunny.”

You start to lose control and start saying, “yes, yes, anything for you, sir. Please spank me and make me cum.”

“Ready bunny?”

You nodded your head

He slaps your ass as the stinging slowly turning into pleasure.

“O-one”

He rubs the spot where he slapped gently and gives your ass another pleasurable slap.

“Two”

You slowly start to drool. Nanami sees you drool him grind your needy pussy harder.

You scream while your arms desperately search for a place to hold onto now more than ever.

He then gives another slap, this one feeling a little bit firmer than the last slap.

“Two more to go, bunny, you’re almost there. Make me proud.”

Your body lights up even further, hearing the words come out of his mouth.

Increasing the speed of his hips, he gives another slap to your ass.

“For-Four”. Your mind slowly started to go blank

He notices that you are on the precipice of an orgasm and a powerful one too. “One more bunny.”

Nanami’s pants are soaked. His cock hard and wet.

The final slap was the hardest

You scream out five

You are hanging by a thread, and the following words that come out of Nanami's mouth make you lose it.

“Cum for me, bunny, let me see drown in pleasure.”

Nanami begins to grind his hips even harder, and your mind goes blank

You babble non-coherent words. You cum, and you cum hard. The white cream leaks out of the bodysuit while simultaneously staining Nanami's pants. Nanami keeps grinding, helping you ride out your orgasm.

It all becomes too much, and you fall onto Nanami’s chest, where your head is right next to Nanami's ear.

“Sir, take it out! I can’t take it anymore, please!”

“Nope, my sweet bunny, I told you that I’m going to make you into a Fucking foundation. So sit tight and enjoy the ride.”

Your body can take it anymore, and you squirt hard, soaking Nanami even further and the king-sized bed beneath the two of you.

You cry in pleasure with a mix of pain. Nanami turns off the vibrator and lets you catch a breather.

“You did so well, bunny. So so so good.”

Your body was now limp against Nanami’s chest. You couldn’t form a sentence because of how intense your orgasm was. All you could do was hum.

Nanami slowly lifts you off of his body and unties your wrists. Now free, you wince slightly, feeling Nanami's callous hands once again massaging your wrist. He kisses your hands gently and sees you smile with a tear-stained face. His mind is filled with you and only you.

Coming home to you is what makes him feel alive.

“Nanami, you should get up and clean yourself.”

Nanami stares into your eyes and slowly grabs your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Not yet I want to stay with you like this just for a little bit.”

You begin to open your mouth in protest, but Nanami hushes you with a kiss. You relish in the warmth of his lips.

You could never win against him, and you didn’t mind at all.

[bevioletskies]

dream a little dream of me

summary: Ryunosuke had never been one for gloomy, rainy weather, had always preferred the comforting warmth of a clear, sunny day. When a particularly heavy rainstorm keeps him and Kazuma in bed for hours on end, he finds himself slowly starting to think otherwise.

word count: 2.4k | read on ao3

a/n: For @asoryuu-week, day four of seven (prompt: "domestic"). This fic takes place post-Resolve; mild spoiler warning for Adventures and Resolve, where events may be alluded to but not described in detail. All names and honorifics are taken from the official localization, with the exception of Sherlock and Iris.

Fic title is from the song Dream A Little Dream Of Me by The Mamas & The Papas.

“Remind me, Ryunosuke, what is it they say about a heavy head? Because yours is certainly making it harder for me to breathe.”

Ryunosuke sighed, lifting his supposedly heavy head from his partner’s chest to level him with a sleepy glare. “Good morning to you, too. Must you demean me before we’ve even gotten out of bed?”

Kazuma’s warm, slightly raspy laughter soothed Ryunosuke somewhat, though he still couldn’t help but feel slightly irritated. “Well, it’s hardly my fault you’re so fun to tease. No one else reacts quite like you do.” Then, Kazuma cupped Ryunosuke’s jaw in one hand, running his thumb across Ryunosuke’s mouth. “And I mean that in all manner of things, if you get my meaning.”

“You’re terrible,” Ryunosuke informed him, though he allowed Kazuma to kiss him anyway, grunting slightly when Kazuma rolled over to straddle him, sinking his entire body into Ryunosuke’s, fingers digging into his sides. “Mm...Kazuma, th-they’re waiting for us downstairs - ”

“Let them wait,” Kazuma murmured, playfully nibbling Ryunosuke’s bottom lip. One of his hands had now moved to Ryunosuke’s thigh, caressing him teasingly. “It’s been too long since we’ve had some time to ourselves.”

“You were only here two nights ago,” Ryunosuke said breathlessly; Kazuma’s mouth had quickly made its way from his neck to his collarbone, leaving a heated trail of kisses down the length of his throat. “Remember? That’s when I finally agreed to - ”

“Ry-u! Kazz-y! Won’t you be joining us for breakfast?”

“Damn,” Kazuma muttered, reluctantly climbing off so he could smooth out the front of his jinbei. Despite Ryunosuke’s continued annoyance at Kazuma’s insatiable nature, if he wanted to put it kindly, he also couldn’t help but admire how flushed Kazuma’s ears, neck, and chest had become in the last few minutes alone. “We’ll be right there, Iris, sorry for keeping you!”

“That’s okay!” Iris called back, her footsteps already beginning to fade away. “Just as long as you’re both properly dressed, alright?”

Ryunosuke groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “This is all your fault, you know that?” Kazuma merely scoffed, rifling through his bag so he could find the fresh set of clothes he’d packed for his overnight stay. “Though I suppose nothing will ever be as bad as the time you pulled me aside in the middle of an investigation and - ”

“I thought we both found that to be a thrilling and memorable experience, but fine,” Kazuma said with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll see to it that we won't try anything that adventurous ever again.”

“We almost got caught!” Ryunosuke exclaimed, agitatedly flapping his shirt in Kazuma’s face. “Don’t you realize how much trouble we would’ve been in?”

Kazuma stared at Ryunosuke in complete and utter disbelief. “...Ryunosuke, you’ve committed treason. You’ve implicated so many government officials, exposed so many government secrets - ”

“...all the more reason not to take a chance?” Ryunosuke offered sheepishly. “Anyway, let’s get dressed before they come looking for us again. I swear I can hear Susato-san’s footsteps coming up the stairs.”

A little over an hour later, Ryunosuke, Kazuma, and Susato returned to the attic, pleasantly sleepy from the generous meal that Iris had prepared for everyone. The rain was still thumping against the windowpane, an erratic tap-tap-tap that filled the entire room, rendering the three of them barely able to hear themselves or each other.

“I know you were planning on returning to your own flat, Kazuma-sama, but I would advise against it in a storm like this,” Susato mused, momentarily brushing the curtains aside so she could look out over the soggy, sorry state of London’s streets. “And I’m sure Naruhodo-san wouldn’t complain if you stayed.”

“I’m sure as well, though Ryunosuke is clearly in no position to answer either way,” Kazuma said dryly, gesturing in Ryunosuke’s direction, where he was currently curled up on the floor by Susato’s tea set, half-asleep and hugging his daruma to his chest. Susato watched, giggling, as Kazuma walked over to gently prod Ryunosuke in the shoulder with his foot. “Come now, Ryu, don’t make me carry you back to bed.”

“We both know you’d like that,” Ryunosuke mumbled. Susato only just managed to refrain from rolling her eyes at them - she’d been privy to far too many of their supposedly private conversations for her liking - instead electing to pat Kazuma on the arm.

“I think this is the perfect weather for a nap, personally,” she said, looking at him meaningfully. “If you plan on returning to bed as well, I can let Iris and Mr Holmes know not to disturb any of us until dinner.”

“That would be great, Susato-san, thank you,” Kazuma said sincerely, though he secretly suspected she just wanted to leave them be. Once she disappeared back down the stairs, he looked down at Ryunosuke with an irrevocably fond sigh. “Ryunosuke…”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m getting up,” Ryunosuke yawned, reluctantly pulling himself to his feet. “Bed?” Grinning, Kazuma wordlessly took Ryunosuke by the hand and led him towards his bedroom - their bedroom, really, given how often he stayed over these days. Moments later, they clumsily tumbled back into bed, having changed into their sleepclothes once more.

“You’ve still got a bit of egg on your face,” Kazuma observed, wiping Ryunosuke’s cheek. “How does this keep happening to you?”

“Eat too fast,” Ryunosuke murmured, turning to kiss the palm of Kazuma’s hand. “Food...good.”

“Your grasp of both the Japanese and the English language is incredible,” Kazuma drawled, carding his fingers through Ryunosuke’s hair. He then pulled him closer, burying his face into Ryunosuke’s neck. “I thought you went back home to finish school, did you not? Surely you can do better than ‘food good’.”

“You’re so mean to me,” Ryunosuke said, sighing, letting out an exaggerated exhale directly in Kazuma’s face. Still, he turned over so he could wrap his arms around Kazuma’s waist, snuggling contentedly into his chest. “I really should just kick you out and make you go home.” Laughing, Kazuma kissed the top of his head.

“Not in this weather, you wouldn’t,” Kazuma replied. As if to illustrate his point, there was a loud, thunderous crack that practically shook the entire room. “If this storm keeps up, I might have to live here indefinitely.” Ryunosuke merely grunted in response. “Well, you don’t have to sound so pleased about it.”

“Oh - no, it’s not that,” Ryunosuke reassured him, sitting up somewhat so he could look Kazuma in the eye. Despite Kazuma’s typical brusque, yet affectionate nature, he could tell that Kazuma was slightly hurt. “I was just thinking about how much I dislike storms. Rain is fine on occasion, but...it seems as if London is in a permanent state of misery sometimes, you know? And it makes us miserable all the while.”

Kazuma’s clouded expression cleared up instantly. “It’s been ages since we’ve had sunshine,” he agreed, now dropping his head to rest on Ryunosuke’s shoulder. “It would’ve been nice to go for a walk together before I leave...whenever that is.”

“Like we used to do before class,” Ryunosuke said quietly, nodding. “You could never convince me to join you during your morning exercises, though.”

“Forget morning exercise, I had to literally drag you out of bed sometimes,” Kazuma snorted, tangling their fingers together. “I hear Susato-san hasn’t had any luck with getting you to exercise more, either.”

“I exercise enough,” Ryunosuke huffed, pinching Kazuma’s side; much to his dismay, Kazuma merely laughed in response. “I do plenty of pacing up and down during trials, you see.”

“I do see,” Kazuma teased. “I should look for permanent scuff marks behind the defense bench and the witness stand the next time we’re in court. You have a tendency to drag your feet, after all.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryunosuke made a show of yanking his hand out of Kazuma’s grasp and turning over with his back to him, pulling his side of the blankets over his head. “...I’m really starting to think you have nothing nice to say about me at all.”

Even when he wasn’t looking at him, he could tell Kazuma was smirking. “Oh, I think I praise you plenty. But in case you were wanting to hear it…” In one quick motion, Kazuma swept the bundled-up Ryunosuke into his arms, Ryunosuke’s back pressed against his chest, his breath ghosting the shell of Ryunosuke’s ear. “...I love you, Ryunosuke. And I’ll say it as many times as you’d like; all you need to do is ask.”

“Wonderful, now I just sound needy,” Ryunosuke said, sighing yet again, though he craned his neck to kiss Kazuma anyway, tossing the blanket around his shoulders so they were both enveloped in its warmth. Kazuma slowly lowered him onto his back, onto the mattress, knees braced on either side of Ryunosuke’s hips, fingers digging into Ryunosuke’s waist.

“You can insult me back, I don’t mind,” Kazuma murmured, sucking a bruising kiss along the crook of Ryunosuke’s jaw. Though they’d crawled back into bed for a nap, Ryunosuke was starting to feel more and more alert by the second. “Do your worst.”

Ryunosuke hummed, thinking. “...sometimes, you try too hard. You need to relax more, Kazuma. There have been some jurors and witnesses who’ve been intimidated by you, even though you aren’t trying to be malicious.”

“Fair enough.” Kazuma’s voice was low, raspy, sending shivers up Ryunosuke’s spine. “Anything else?”

“You have a bad habit of interrupting people,” Ryunosuke continued, prodding Kazuma in the chest with an accusatory finger. “Even Iris seemed annoyed with you last night, when she was asking us about our latest trial. I know you think you were helping, but I can speak for myself just fine. We’re not in school anymore.”

“...ah.” Kazuma looked humbled, almost remorseful. “I...I’m sorry, Ryu, I didn’t realize. I honestly thought we were just telling them about what happened together.”

“And you need to stop biting me like I’m a piece of meat - ”

“No one can see them!”

“Kazuma, you're doing it again - ”

“Doing wh - oh.” Kazuma burrowed his face into Ryunosuke’s chest, cheeks burning hot with shame. Ryunosuke couldn’t help but laugh; it wasn’t often that he got to embarrass Kazuma and render him speechless. “I...see that I’m not quite the partner I’d thought or, or hoped I was.”

“Last, but definitely not least - ” Ryunosuke abruptly took Kazuma’s face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks until his lips puckered “ - you don’t need to be quite so dramatic, either. I still love you all the same, Kazuma.” He smirked. “And I’ll say it as many times as you’d like; all you need to do is ask.”

Kazuma stared down at him with wide, imploring eyes. Then, he cocked his head to one side, his frown melting into a warm, radiant smile. “...again.”

“I love you.” Ryunosuke kissed Kazuma’s cheek, then the tip of his nose, then finally, his lips. Beaming, Kazuma kissed him back, a little sweeter this time, a little less sensual. “Especially because you’re a little needy, too.”

They fell silent for a few minutes, save for the steady sounds of the rain and thunder and wind whistling past their window, exchanging slow, languorous kisses and simply enjoying one other’s company. Though Kazuma spent more nights at Baker Street than not, in a way, it still felt as if they had months, even years, of lost time to make up for, even though they hadn’t been apart - or a part of each other’s lives, for that matter - for that long. It was times like these that Ryunosuke found himself reminiscing about their university days, the early days of their companionship, when they’d have spirited debates that ended in spirited laughter and meandering conversations about nothing in particular.

“I can hear you thinking, partner,” Kazuma murmured, brushing Ryunosuke’s hair out of his eyes. “Something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” Ryunosuke said, pulling away momentarily to yawn. “Only that we were supposed to be taking a nap, and instead, we spent the last ten minutes poking fun at each other. Though I suppose that’s just an extension of the way we speak to each other in court at times.”

“Susato-san has been scolding you about that as well, has she? Perhaps we do need to - I need to be more careful,” Kazuma corrected hastily when Ryunosuke leveled him with an impressively Kazuma-like glare. “Though we’d be in even more trouble if I were to, say, openly comment on how handsome you looked in court just last week, when your hair was a little bit longer in the back. I thought it suited you.”

“Why do we need to be in trouble at all?” Ryunosuke retorted, elbowing him a little harder than necessary. “I’d rather we do our jobs like the proper lawyers that we are - ”

“Well-behaved schoolboys, you mean,” Kazuma teased.

“ - and come home at the end of the day, where we can do as we please,” Ryunosuke finished.

Kazuma looked at him consideringly, his gaze impossibly soft. “Ryunosuke Naruhodo, are you implying you’d like me to move in someday?”

“What? I - ” Ryunosuke stared at him, momentarily stunned. Then, he relaxed, his head dropping back to his pillow, where Kazuma followed him down, their eyes still locked. “I, er...I thought that was a given. Though I worry that...that people might talk, as they’re wont to do.”

“Professor Mikotoba lived here with Mr Holmes for some time, did he not?” Kazuma pointed out. “Besides, even if people talk, why listen? All that matters is what we think of ourselves, as trite as that might sound.” He leaned in close, pressing a lingering kiss to Ryunosuke’s forehead. “So, just know that whenever you decide to ask, you already have my answer.”

“Then I think I’ll make you wait for just a little bit longer before I do...if only to get back at you for two nights ago,” Ryunosuke added with a smug smile, laughing when Kazuma glared daggers at him in response.

“And you think I’m the cruel one,” Kazuma muttered, pulling Ryunosuke into his arms once more so he could hold him rather possessively, their legs loosely intertwined beneath their mess of blankets. “You told me you enjoyed yourself.”

“I did, believe me,” Ryunosuke grinned, blushing faintly at the sudden vivid memory that had come to mind. “But just this once, I’d like to have the upper hand.” He then leaned in to kiss Kazuma’s exaggerated pout. “Anyway, we really should be getting to sleep now, or it’ll be time for dinner before we know it. I can barely keep my eyes open at this rate.”

“Agreed,” Kazuma said, yawning. He shuffled closer, dropping his forehead down to rest against Ruynosuke’s. “Good...morning, Ryunosuke.”

Ryunosuke shot him one last sleepy, fond smile before letting his eyes drift shut. “Good morning to you, too, Kazuma.”

_____

a/n: Welcome to my fourth entry for Asoryuu Week 2021! We've moved on from sad Kazuma hours to semi-horny Kazuma hours, I guess? Blame it on Kazuma talking about getting Ryunosuke off and holding his hand over a hot plate and finding ways to shut him up; you can't tell me he's not doing this at least a little bit on purpose. Anyway, I always love writing plotless cuddling fics where they basically talk about nothing. I could've made this way, way longer, easy, but we've still got three more days to go!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you're all safe and healthy and doing well ❤️

[mcwritingblog]

Immortal: Chapter 1

A Girl and Her Cat

Pairing: Javier Pena x reader

Summary: A small town barista meets a handsome Javi.

Rating: G

Author’s note: Hey guys I'm sorry this doesn't have a lot of Javier in it, its really a big set up chapter for the story.

Word count: 2k

1975, a random fall Tuesday 

I don't know how it even happened, or how I met him. At the time I was living in a small town in Columbia run by Americans, keeping to myself, not drawing any attention to myself. He walked into my cafe and got a small black coffee. He stayed a while, reading his small novel.  

“Hi there, stranger, I got your coffee”, you said as you set down his drink. “Anything else?”

“No ma’am. Thank you”

“No problem”, you went to turn away but you had to know, “Um, hey?”

“Yes?”

“You've come in before.  What's your name?”

“Javier”

“Javier. I'm y/n. Let me know if you need anything. Maybe next time you could try a latte”, he lets out a snort. You go back to cleaning. It was extremely slow today so you got the go-ahead from your boss to close up early. 

“Miss?”

You turned around and saw Javier leaning up against his truck with a smile. 

You grasp your chest. “You scared me. I didn't notice you there.”

“Were you about to walk home?”

“Yes”

“Would you mind a ride?”

“My apartment isn't that far from here, but thank you I appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

And like that, you were walking home, enjoying the weather. It was chilly and the leaves were falling beside you everywhere. You didn't mind the ten-minute walk to your apartment. You don't even get in the door before your cat starts meowing at you. 

“Avery, give me one moment. I'll feed you I promise.”. You love the hell out of the black cat but the girl is so needy.

You flick off your shoes by the front door, bending down to pet Avery. You walked past her to shake some food into her bowl. With how she rushes to it, you'd think she never got fed. Silly girl. You walk over to the couch and lay out, grabbing the blanket to get comfortable, a few moments pass and your cat hops up to snuggle up to you. You flip on your tv to find something to have in the background and settle on Hawaii Five O. There's something about cops that attracts you so much. You find yourself falling asleep, Avery radiating heat on your stomach. 

---

You were woken up the next morning by your alarm clock; another day, another dollar. You were on second shift today so you didn't have to be in until 11. You got up and made yourself toast and eggs, making sure fatso had her food too. 

“Pretty girl”, you say scratching her chin and heading towards the door, adding an “I’ll be back later. Byeee”

The walk to the shop today was extra nice. You can smell the aroma of a pumpkin pie as you pass the houses in your neighborhood and hear the sounds of children playing outside. The giggles brought life to the quiet afternoon. As you come closer to the city, the more you hear the sounds of cars passing and smells of bread being baked at the bakery down the street. The bakers wave at you as you pass the front window. You hold up two fingers, gesturing back. Two shops down is Mrs. Rivera trying to hang up plants, struggling to steady herself, AND the hanging ivy pot.

“Here let me help you.”, you say as you come behind her and catch the pot, succeeding in hanging it up on her awning.

“Thank you, sweetheart!”, she says as she wipes her hands on her apron.

“No problem. I have to get going but come by for a latte?”, you ask.

“Yeah. I’ll see you” 

And with that, you were back to it. Half a block down and you come to the shop's front door. It dings as you enter.

“You're late”, your boss, Maria, gets on to you.

“Mrs. Rivera needed help again.”

“Uh-huh. Get your butt back there”, she snorts. She's not mad. Thank god.

“Been busy today?”You ask about taking off your backpack and hanging it up. The shop was basically vacant. The only customer you could see was a college kid studying in the corner. You walk around to pick up mugs and empty plates from various tables.

“Not really. The usuals mostly… Oh! A guy was asking about you! He asked if I knew if you got home safe?”, she asked, confused.

“Ah yes, Javier. He offered to take me home last night.”, you say while walking the dirty dishes to the back.

“He’s cute. You should get in there, girl”, she yells to you. “In there?”, you come around the corner and scoff, “I'm not that interested in dating right now.”

“You should. You can't just spend all your free time with your cat and nonexistent characters in your books.”

“Can.” You point out “And will” 

“You're only 24, do you really wanna throw away that opportunity?”

You could only muster up an eye roll.

----

The rest of the shift went off without a problem. Maria went home shortly after her talk with you. The next few hours included a couple of customers but mostly some cleaning. Mrs. Rivera actually came to see you, even getting a hot chocolate for her grandson when she got her latte. You hold a conversation with her for a while, talking about her daughter’s new job at the school. Maria said something about that a couple of weeks ago. The rest of the regulars got their usual drinks, only sticking around long enough for their drinks. The clock soon hits 7 pm.

“Another tea?”, you ask the college student in the corner. He’s been here for your whole shift and has gotten two hot green teas with sugar.

“No ma’am. I'm about to leave but I appreciate it.”

‘Alright. Don't be a stranger”, you say, taking his cup and saucer to the back to clean it off. You place it in the strainer to left it air dry. As you are in the back, the customer packed up and left, leaving the shop empty.

You walk past every table, wiping it down and stacking chairs on top, then grabbing the broom. You quite enjoy the quiet chill night, humming a simple tune. The night offers an array of noises through the open door: Grasshoppers chirping and the soft whistle of the breeze. You finish sweeping and put up the broom. “The tips were pretty good today”, you think, pushing the money into your pocket, removing your apron, locking up, and heading home.

----

You had Thursday off and planned to spend it accordingly. You slept until you couldn't anymore, got up, and fed Avery, offering extra pets to the needy cat. She snuggles up to you on the couch, laying in the space in front of your stomach. Your newest interest? Murder mysteries. So you are relaxing on the couch reading Agatha Christie’s Death on the Nile. 

You get pretty far into the book before hearing a knock at your door. Weird. Then walk to unlatch the door, swinging it open.

“Uh... hello?”, you questioned the man in front of you. He’s standing there with his hand to the back of his neck, looking nervous

“Hi. Umm, I'm new to building. I live across the hall. I’m Anthony”, he reaches his hand out. You take his hand and shake it.

“Y/N”, you respond, smiling.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N”

“Would you like to come in for some coffee? I just put on a fresh pot”, you invite.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”, his face sparks up in happiness. He takes your invitation and walks into your apartment, you close the door behind him.

‘Wow. Nice apartment. How long have you been living here?”

“Eh, a while”. Boy, you have NO idea.

He sits down at your dinner table and you bring over two coffee mugs.

“Cream? Sugar?”, you ask.

“Yes. Both please”, he responds and you hand him the containers of cream and sugar.

“Just moved here?”

“Yeah. From Arizona. The owner told me that you're one of the only Americans renting here. Thought I might come by and say hello.”

“Arizona, huh?”

“Yeah. I used to live in Georgia when I was a young girl but I’ve been around the world a lot. Been a while since I’ve been in the United States”, you drift off for a second but reel it in. “ Where in Arizona are you from?”

“Tucson. Wasn’t a bad place to live but I went to college for a major in the Spanish language. I wanted to visit places where I could hear the different dialects and see the different cultures. Thus, I am in Columbia.”

“Ah, you see I just wanted to see the world. I’ve been almost everywhere”

‘What was your favorite place to visit?”, he asks, fully focused on the conversation and not realizing Avery’s furry body rubbing against his shins. She meows. “Oh, well, hello there pretty girl. What’s your name?”. He reaches down to pet her back.

“That’s Avery. But back to your question, I was living in Greece for a while and I just adored the blue waters and sandy beaches.”

He takes a sip of his coffee and asks, “So what brought you here?”

“Need a change of scene. I had a friend who lived here but she passed away a couple of years ago”, you reply back nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Oh, im so sorry to hear that. Not too pry but we’re you close?”

“Yeah, We knew each other for a while.”

“How’d she die?”, he asks further

“Old age”, you let slip.

“Old age? he responds surprised.

“Uh... yeah. A family friend.”, you try to make up a better story to keep suspicion off of you.

That conversation kind of ended before it started, instead opting for a conversation about Anthony’s studies in places like Cuba and Spain. The talk circled around to different places you’ve visited, Rome being a topic that seemed to trail on and on. The sun outside seems to start to set.

“I’ve got to get going but it was nice to meet you, Y’N”

“You too, Anthony. Let me know if you need a cup of sugar or anything”, you say following him towards your door. He steps through and across the hallway to his front door. When he shuts his door, you follow suit. You turn around and you can feel Avery’s judging eyes on you.

“I know, I almost blew my cover”, you tell your feline friend. She meows.

-----

You weren't wrong when you told Anthony you’ve been living in Columbia for a while. The problem is his definition and your definition of “a while” were completely different. The truth is you lived in Columbia for 40 years and in this town for about 20. You didn’t age. The only person who could possibly know is Mrs. Rivera but she is very good at minding her own business. You were one of the only ones who came to her husband’s funeral a year ago. You’re practically family. The town’s oldest residents have passed and the owners of the apartments change every couple of years. The rent is paid in cash and the tenets come and go. Every couple of decades you move to another small town in another country. 

You lived a normal life but you didn’t know your parents. You lived in the orphanage until you were 18. It was then you took up a job, reading in your spare time, and traveling when you could. You didn’t even realize your immortality until you were 40 looking 20. And then 50 looking 20. You did try to date but soon came to realize that you’d outlive them, leaving a trail of broken hearts. You were pretty sure you were incapable of love. 80 years old and not prepared for what happened next.

Javier Pena was about to change your life.

[alice-dont-break]

welcome home | janthony smut

cw: smut, this is …a lot… and y’all might hate me for it. but i had fun!

Jasmine was having a lazy day at home, as hers and Anthony's schedules weren't lining up. She had the day off filming, but he would be stuck at the studio for most of the day. The only consolation was the promise he'd made to try to get home in time for dinner, which got even more exciting when a package arrived at the door.

She'd kind of forgotten about the lingerie she'd ordered online, so she was thrilled when she opened up the box. It was only two in the afternoon, and she had a few hours until he'd be home, but she couldn't wait and ran upstairs to change. The bra was made of a sheer black mesh with a plunging neckline trimmed with lace. The deep cut made her cleavage absolutely decadent, as her tits were pressed together and practically begging for Anthony's lips to mark them up with dark hickeys.

The panties were the same material, and when Jasmine turned to the side to admire herself in the mirror, she found they framed her ass perfectly. The cheeky, high leg cut left ample room for Anthony's hands to grab and squeeze and leave fiery red prints, if he'd just hurry up and get home.

Ready to kill some time, she pulled on his, or rather their, red flannel over the lingerie, and traipsed back to the living room where she slouched down to watch television until he'd get home. Somehow, moments started to slip by faster, and finally on the millionth time she checked her phone, the time actually showed her something she wanted to see. It was 6pm, and he'd be there soon.

She slipped the flannel off her shoulders so it just draped off her arms, and pulled her tits up so they spilled out of her bra. Her legs were laying long in front of her, one draped over the other so he'd see nearly all of her as soon he walked in the door. If somehow the lingerie wasn't enough, the rest of her would have him ready to devour within seconds.

The position of her legs was perfect for her to squeeze away the ache that was beginning to form between her thighs, as the anticipation was blocking her mind from any other thoughts. She was swimming in visions of the way his eyes would darken and narrow when he found her, the urgency he'd act with, and all the delicious ways he'd take her. The options were limitless and she knew they wouldn't have to leave any out because they'd be going all night. She was pining for him now, an intense craving igniting her skin for all of him. His lips sucking her neck until tender, his curls pulled taut in her grip, his fingers wrapped around her throat, his nails dragging down her back, his cock pounding her breath away. God, she was ready, so ready that her heart nearly leapt from her chest when her phone buzzed on the coffee table, as she was yanked from her fantasies, but then sent crashing down from her yearning.

Sorry babe, getting caught up here. Gonna be a while longer. Love you

"Fuck," she groaned to no one but herself. She reached down between her legs and dragged her finger over the fabric covering her pussy and felt a coin-sized wet spot already soaked through. She couldn't bear to sit still any longer, so she got up and started looking for something, anything to occupy herself. In her bedroom she'd tried tidying, folding clothes, getting glasses of water so they were ready for later, but nothing was taking her mind off the slick that continued to pool in her brand new panties. She needed to take care of it, now. Anyway, she was so hot for him now she could get off to find herself some patience now, and still fuck him later just the same.  She just needed this.

Meanwhile at the studio, Anthony and the guys had tried to keep writing, but they were forcing it at this point. They were all hungry, and tired from a long week of late nights, and as hard as they tried, they weren't going to finish the track tonight. About an hour after he'd texted Jasmine he'd be late, Anthony was ready to call it a night, and he got in his car to head home.

Jasmine felt the tension melting off her body into the mattress as she lay back in bed, one leg bent and one straight and angled to the side, so she could cup the heat radiating through her panties. She wanted this to be quick and dirty, saving all the real fun for when he was home, so she grabbed her vibrator, pulled the soaked fabric to the side, and closed her eyes so visions of him could flood her consciousness. With the egg buzzing at its lowest frequency, she brought her hands between her legs and started dragging the toy up and down her inner thighs, teasing just the way Anthony would with his tongue if he were there.

Her lips fell apart as she sighed out with relief the second she brushed it over her pussy. The buzzing was soft but quenching her thirst now, as a tingling pleasure blanketed her clit. Her eyes were squeezed shut, but her mind was freely wandering through all the dirty thoughts that lived there. Everything he could do, that she could do, and that they would do as soon as he walked through the door. She was so lost in her visions that she didn't even notice how his name was slipping from her lips with every ragged breath, and certainly didn't notice when the front door creaked open and he plodded up the stairs to appear in the doorway.

When he first walked in the front door, he didn't hear anything and figured she must have been napping, but before he reached their room he heard the buzzing and moaning and knew she was under a different type of fog. He crept around the corner so he wouldn't disturb her because he wanted to drink it all up, and god, the sight he found sprawled on the bed did not disappoint. His hand was over the growing bulge in his jeans before he could even register it, and he couldn't help but rub himself, though only with a fraction of the intensity she showed. His eyes were raking over every inch of her and he felt like he might never be able to tear his eyes away. She looked so pliant, so needy, so purely sexy laying there, and even though her hands were where his should have been, she was wrapped up in his flannel and laying on his side of the bed, so she was unmistakably his.

The way her free hand clutched the sheets like a lifeline, the way her bottom lip puffed out from the assault of her teeth, and the sheen of sweat across her forehead all rolled together in a boulder that shattered through his resolve. He stepped through the threshold, soaking up every last second of her ignorance before he'd invade her senses.

"God, you are a pretty sight when you're desperate," he sneered from the foot of the bed. Jasmine's eyes shot open instantly, before darting down to the toy in her hands to find the off-button faster than her fingers could move. She fumbled with it, hissing as she accidentally turned it up instead of off, which had him thoroughly amused. "Oh no sweetheart, why stop the fun now that I'm here? Give me that." He climbed up onto the bed, laying on his side next to her and taking the toy from her before inspecting it a little closer. 

"God Jas, you've made a mess of this. It's absolutely soaked," he tutted while bringing the buzz to a stop. "Clean it up for us, won't you?" Her eyes widened as he brought the egg to her lips, but the throbbing between her thighs left her no room to argue. She eagerly sealed her lips around to suck off her juices, making a full show of swirling her tongue and licking her lips to bring it to his standards.

When he turned the vibrator back onto its lowest frequency, it wasn't even touching Jasmine but still had her mewling in anticipation. "Ant, please, I was getting so close," she whined helplessly.

"Were you now?" He taunted her while just grazing the toy over her thigh. He slowly reintroduced her skin to the sensation, running it from her knee to the outside of her hip and back down again, nowhere even close to the itch eating her alive. "I bet it feels really good right here, doesn't it?" He used his free hand to slip a finger between her folds and swipe it up over her clit just once, before bringing her juices to his lips for a taste.

"Yes, it feels good, so fucking good Ant please use it on my pussy."

"Okay baby, you want me to put it on your clit? I'll do that, but you have to promise to ask me before you cum, got it?"

"Yes, Ant, I promise, I'll wait for permission please just give it to me," she begged.

He couldn't help but laugh at how docile she'd become so quickly, and realized just how much fun he was in for. "Okay sweetheart," he said while clicking up the vibrator a few levels.

The second he pressed the toy to her clit, Jasmine cried out in overwhelming pleasure. The intensity was much higher than she'd used on herself, and coupled with her desperation it was sending her barreling towards the edge. He watched as her lips fell open, her eyes screwed shut, and her hips bucked up, mesmerized by how lost in pleasure she was.

Only a moment later, she realized she desperately needed to find her words through the haze now coating her mind. "Ant.. Ant, I.. I need... please can I... oh my god, can I cum?" Every word was broken by moans that kept climbing higher and higher. It was clear she was mere seconds away from an orgasm that would shatter her senses in the most euphoric way possible.

Anthony hummed at her stammered request for a moment until she pried her eyes open to make sure he'd actually heard her. As soon as their eyes met, he pulled the toy away and turned it off. "No, you may not."  He lay back down beside her, cradling her jaw with his fingers and stroking his thumb over her chin to watch her eyes flood with the shock of her bliss slipping out of reach.

"Ant, don't... why would you... please baby," she panted.

"Because sweetheart. You couldn't wait on your own, so now I'm going to make you." Before she could protest, Anthony brought the toy back to her lips and snarled, "clean it".

She knew from just one more pout that his stern expression would be unwavering, so she reluctantly tipped her chin up to lap at the toy again. He held it just out of reach from her lips so her efforts were clumsy and sloppy while he indulged in how easy she was to hold under his thumb already. As he pulled back the toy to check her work, he marveled how she kept her tongue out and ready, with spit spilling down her chin. Wanting to make a mess of her, he smudged it over her skin with his thumb as he tutted, "filthy little thing."

Next he put the toy aside and lay down next to her, hovering over her face as she pouted. He thumbed over her bottom lip and chuckled lowly, before leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. "This... I like this a lot..." he mused, tracing along the lace that outlined her black bra with just a brush of his fingertips. Her cheeks reddened as he shamelessly admired the lingerie, how it pressed her tits into the most luscious cleavage, and matched with the panties he'd found tossed to the floor. "It's new?"

"Mhmm," she purred, completely captivated by his touch.

"That's sweet, you were wearing it for me? Showing yourself off so I'd jump you as soon as I walked in?"

Jasmine whimpered before she could even speak because god yes that was what she wanted. "Yes, please Ant."

While his hands continued to wander, just ghosting across her body in featherlight strokes, he captured her lips in a a deep but patient kiss. His mouth opened wide so their tongues could roll over one another immediately, but he was in no rush to separate, pressing into her until the only sensation she could register was that of his lips. Once his hand came to rest at her hip, innocently rubbing crescents over her hip bone, she whimpered into his mouth at the pressure that was once again growing in her center. The flame had dimmed slightly, but here nerves were still firing, desperate for something more.

Anthony began to trail his kisses down her neck and collarbone, pausing to nip at every spot that made her shudder, until he reached her cleavage. He gave an open-mouthed kiss to the soft skin there, then brushed his lips across the lace trim of the bra. Jasmine tried earnestly to get more, arching her back to press her chest closer to his mouth, but he caught on and bit his fingers into her skin, and used that pressure on her hip to hold her down. "Patient," he husked in a pause between deepening kisses to the lace of her bra. The cups were made of just a thin layer of mesh, so he could see the hardened peak of her nipple as he pressed his lips there, just as clearly as he could hear the bliss in the moans she let slip.

"Please take it off, babe," she breathed. Even her nipples now were so sensitive that the slightest touch had her addicted.

"Why sweetheart? D'you want to feel me right here?" His lips wrapped around her clothed nipple as she whimpered.

All those nerves were engulfed in a warm heat but the full effect felt just out of reach. Her hand tightened its grip on his shoulder then found its way to his curls, trying to find any leverage to keep him in place. "Please, yes, feels so good when you do that."

His hand began to roam as well, dragging up her waist and then arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reached her bra strap. As he slipped the first strap off her shoulder, his lips took its place against her skin, nibbling there on her collarbone until a crimson mark appeared. After one more soothing kiss, he moved to the other side and repeated his action until she was practically purring for him. Finally, he slinked his arms under her back as she arched up for him, unclasping the bra and then tossing it away.

The sight of her tits like that was glorious. She arched up so they spilled towards him, and her nipples were so hard they looked like they must be aching just as badly as her pussy surely was. What was maybe even more alluring though was the way her lips had parted and her eyes widened, desperately begging him for something, anything. She couldn't find words, but her shaky breaths told him everything.

He shuffled up the bed and lay on his side next to her before taking her lips between his own for another, more gentle kiss. His lips kneaded over hers, massaging them with his tongue and slipping inside just barely. She was kissing him just as eagerly as she was before, between her rugged breaths, craving the tingling sensation only his tongue smashing with hers could provide. Before he gave her that though, all her attention was shot over to the hand he'd let travel over to her chest.

He cupped her breast at first, just holding it up with his fingers tamely outstretched, but even the warmth of his palm against her nipple had her so captivated that she didn't even process how she moaned into his mouth. He tightened his grip once, and upon feeling her melt against his touch, began feeling her up with a firmer hand. As she withdrew from their kiss to gasp for air, he took advantage of her freed bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth, nibbling it to a swollen, raspberry red as he pinched at her nipple. The breath fanning over his face was hot and staggered, as Jasmine found herself shifting her thighs up and down in search of a position that would ease some of the ache.

The wet warmth of his lips creating a path down her neck and the twinge of his fingers tugging at her nipples were merely faint reminders of reality, as her mind was swimming in visions of what she really needed right now. The tent in his sweatpants and the darkened hue of his eyes had her dreaming how these same kisses and tugs would feel if she also had a thick cock inside her, stretching her and setting the rhythm of her panting with its ruts inside her.

Finally, Anthony was ready to bring his attention back to the pussy begging for him with the sheen it left all down her thighs. As his mouth took the place of his fingers, around her nipple, sucking and swirling around the peak, his fingers crept downward, tracing loops around marks his fingernails had left on her hip before loosely cupping over her heat.

Jasmine pursed her lips tightly trying to muffle her moans, but Anthony heard all her pent up frustration clearly and let his smirk curl around her nipple. As his lips slipped off, he left a few teasing kisses as she groaned before shuffling up to lay his head beside hers. "You're soaked, sweetheart. Want to tell me what got you so worked up?" His whispers brushed over the shell of her ear as she shuddered from the chills sent down her spine, that crashed into the buzz from his hand beginning to rock back and forth between her thighs. He kept his hand flat so the stimulation was barely a fraction of what she needed, but nonetheless it was friction and it had her mind spinning.

She only whimpered at his question, as words felt less important than directing all her focus the way his palm was brushing over her pussy lips and toying with the last of her patience. Before she could even register a loss of contact though, his hand slapped down on her pussy and she let out a wanton moan.

Anthony's chastising words got caught in his throat as her sounds contrasted the whine or yelp he'd anticipated. "You like that baby? So fucking nasty aren't you Jas," he muttered with his lips buzzing against her jaw, before snapping his hand down with more force this time.

Her moan was just as earnest this time, as her heightened pitch betrayed just how much she loved his roughness, though this time she turned to bury her head in his neck.

"Use your words. You like that don't you? Like getting a little spanking on your pussy?" His words were crass, but the way he nuzzled his jaw against her forehead was tender.

"Y-yes," she breathed, "I just like you touching me.. I need you to be touching me."

"So needy," he tutted, pressing a soft kiss to her temple that felt more mocking than soothing. "Well babe, if you want to be in control so bad, then here. I won't stop touching you, just like this," he paused, dragging his finger up between her folds as she sighed out breathily, "as long as you don't stop telling me what was going through this pretty little head while you were playing with yourself."

Jasmine's mind was straining to think about anything other than the tightness she felt mounting in her core, but the way his eyes pierced through her made it clear she had no choice. "W-was thinking about your hands being where mine were... g-grabbing at my tits and r-running the vibrator up and - oh my god - up and down my pussy and then j-just tossing it away and going down on me."

Her words were jumbled and cracked as Anthony tried to make her task as challenging as possible with his lips suckling up and down her neck. He knew all the right spots to graze his teeth over so that her mind would flash blank, and he loved listening for the exact moments she faltered. His fingers were soaked now, gathering and spreading her wetness around her folds and just playing with her as he carefully dodged her clit, save for a couple sly brushes of his knuckles. Jasmine's heated mind has gone on a tangent now about his hands, as she stammered "your hands all over me, grabbing and rubbing and squeezing and then inside me, god they feel so good inside me."

As soon as his finger swiped over her clit, her breathed hitched and her words vanished from her mind. She let her head loll back and her eyes flutter shut until she felt a firm thumb holding her chin. She opened her eyes to his stern ones glaring at her, as his finger continued to move torturously slow along her slit.

"I didn't tell you to stop."

Her eyes were glazed over as she looked up at him with desperation and silent pleas spilling out, but he was steadfast. He grabbed her wrist harshly and shoved her hand down and onto the bulge in his boxers. Immediately she was wrapping her hand around his cock through the fabric and reeling at how hard he felt, ready to split her open without having even been touched yet.

"Tell me you weren't thinking about this."

"I w-was, Ant, was thinking about - fuck,"  she groaned, as his finger slipped inside of her, "o-on my knees w-with your hand in my hair - oh my god - and p-pulling me on and off you."

Anthony now had two fingers inside her slowly pumping her as her words began to falter. "You always look adorable like that. What happened once I shot my load down your throat, hm?"

"Y-you picked me up off the floor and - fuck yes Ant don't stop that," she whined as he began to tap his thumb against her clit with his fingers buried all the way inside her.

"Keep talking or you get nothing more."

"You threw me on the bed and you fucked me! You fucked me so hard I could feel you all the way up in my tummy and I was still crying for you to go harder and faster and then I came so hard on your cock that I was screaming your name. Now please Ant, I'm so so so close, please let me cum for you."

Anthony stole her lips for a deep kiss as he slowed his fingers to prolong her ascent, and then hummed against her lips. His fingers felt her pussy beginning to clamp around them, but he pushed back against her tightening walls by curling his fingers. The stretch had her crying against his kiss in a broken "please, please, please," until suddenly there was nothing. She started nipping at his lips as if trying to pull him back into the rhythm she'd aligned her entire being with, but he pulled back and she was left just inches from her peak.

He retrieved the vibrator from the side of the bed just as she began to come down from the deafening height where he'd left her, as the whirring started up again and flooded her senses with a thick haze. She couldn't take it yet, but at the same time, she couldn't possibly go without. She lay panting and twitching on her side, and he left her with a quick, taunting kiss on her temple before pealing back the top blanket to bury the vibrator.

"N-no, please Ant, don't put it away, please just let me cum I can't wait anymore," she whimpered. Her words tumbled through half-sobs as the tension throbbed through her body. He ignored the desperate pleas and rubbed her shoulder tenderly, as a hint of comfort to spur some life back into her for the next round.

"If you want it baby, then get it." The blanket was pulled back into place, muffling the sound of the vibrations underneath and barring Jasmine from the immediate release she craved. She looked up at him as her mind struggled through its haze to figure out what he meant, before letting a whimper slip as she realized just how nasty he wanted her to be. "Get to it baby," he smirked.

Jasmine carefully rolled herself onto her stomach, careful to keep her thighs apart as her aching pussy couldn't handle any unexpected bumps. She slowly lowered her hips, and shuffled into place so her clit was right against where she felt the bump of the vibrator, and let out a shaky breath as the faintest touch of pleasure reached her. "Ant, ant it's not enough," she whined.

"Well not if you're just laying there like a lazy little slut, darling. Put some work into it, hm?"

Any pride had washed away with her last ruined orgasm, and her hips started to grind before she even thought to protest. She buried her forehead against her fists as she propped herself up on her forearms, trying to find the best angle to rut her hips into the toy. Her groans came from some mix of pleasure, sensitivity, and frustration, that all worked in tandem to send her reeling. Meanwhile, Anthony was thoroughly entertained and wholly turned on, watching her fuck herself into the mattress like she was in heat. He'd brought her so close to her edge, so close to a pit of desperation, that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him now. He drank up every sound and movement while palming himself through his boxers, silently wondering how long he could last himself without shoving his cock into her tight, warm cunt.

"That feel good sweetheart? You like grinding against the bed like a dirty little pup?" All she could do was whine back in agreement and rut her pussy down harder, which only added fuel to his torment. "Bet there's not a single thought in that pretty little head besides how to make yourself cum."

On his knees just beside her, he reached down to stroke her hair, as she mewled under his tenderness in rare form. "Ant, I need to cum, this is torture, it aches, baby, it hurts."

"Oh, you poor thing," he crooned, threading his fingers deeper in her hair and scratching at her scalp as he would usually soothe her to sleep, "bet you're going to wait for me next time, aren't you?"

"Y-yes, fuck, I'm sorry," she whined, propping herself up higher to get more leverage to rub against the blanket. There would surely be a wet spot left behind as she felt herself gliding with slick smeared down her thighs. 

Anthony just hummed along to her apology, trailing his free hand down her spine to her ass while the other slipped under his boxers to start lazily pumping to ease his own ache. He started pushing and pulling with the grip on her ass, guiding and encouraging her to drive her hips against the buzz that was quickly sending her back to the edge that she'd become far too acquainted with. He shuffled back towards the foot of the bed, wanting to drink up the view from the back, of her legs spread open, her pussy glistening, and her ass bouncing with the force behind her thrusts.

"Ant, I'm... I'm getting close," she husked while clenching under his tight hold. The heat in her core was quickly melding with the soreness between her thighs, feeling the throb in her pussy of every spark blazing inside her and begging to be released.

"Oh sweetheart, are you? Do you have something to ask me?" He was taunting her, watching how her arms weakened under her, exhaustion coursing through her as she redirected all her strength to keeping the roll of her hips just as rhythmic and precise.

"Please.. please..." she whimpered, muffled by the way her face was burrowing into the mattress. "I'm sorry Ant, I'm sorry, please just let me cum, please can I let go, I'm sorry."

He let her rut for a few more moments until her pace faltered and her breath hitched, then yanked her hips up and away from the source of her pleasure. "Oh darling, you aren't sorry enough yet, but you will be." She shrieked as her pussy twitched, in shock from the sudden switch to absolute nothingness, feeling herself sink into a wash that drowned her in denial until her ears were ringing. The control he held over her was intoxicating; she wasn't just craving a release, she was craving the submission that came with him being the one to grant it.

She stayed underwater, groaning curses into the mattress and arching her back to press her needy pussy closer to where Anthony stood idly behind. She was only drawn back to earth by the yelp prompted by a sharp sting to her ass. His hand lingered over the heat it created for just a moment before withdrawing to create the same on the other side.

"You're going to be so good for me, aren't you sweetheart? Just going to keep taking what I give you?"

He continued his sharp smacks, alternating from side to side and creating a glow of red. She hated to admit it, but as he was working over her ass with his hand, she was only throbbing harder. "Yes, baby, will take it all," she whined in a tone that showed just how pliant she was, even through all his games.

He had to chuckle, watching a new layer of slick drip from the pussy that was so lewdly presented to him. "God you're nasty baby, look at you getting off from a spanking." She couldn't muster any snark, any response whatsoever, just whimpering as the burn of her ass began to match that which had been building between her thighs for what now felt like years.

Once he had worked her over to a crimson that burned across the curve of her ass, he kneaded the supple skin and leaned in to press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses over the heat. "Good girl, you took that so well," he cooed, "lay on your back now darling.

She gingerly pushed herself upright, pausing to grab at Anthony's face and pull their lips together. He smiled into her more fervent kisses as he tried to tame her, but that didn't stop her from nipping and licking his lips as she pleased. "Please Ant, please give me what I need, my pussy is so sore it can't take anymore, it can't."

He opened his lips wide to grant her the entrance she'd worked for, sucking her bottom lips into a deep and ravenous kiss with his tongue rolling over hers just once before pulling back. "It can't take anymore, huh? Okay sweetheart, do what I said now, like my good girl, and lay back."

She exhaled shakily, sucking her lips between her teeth as she followed his orders and relaxed into the mattress, shifting a little to protect her still aching ass. Her legs sprawled around him, laying limp as she prayed he'd just have his way and move her any way he wanted, as long as it would end with her mind burning blank and her pussy pulsing around his fingers, tongue, or dick.

He began with his hands grasping her ankles, pushing them back so her knees were up. He kept his grip firm while pressing tame kisses up the inside of her calf, but pausing before he'd even reached her thighs. On his knees, he shuffled in closer to gain some leverage, then pushed her knees up to her chest, leaving her wide open for him to devour. "Hold," he muttered as her hands fumbled over his to maintain the position while he slipped away.

When he returned to her view, he held a bottle of lube, and her eyes narrowed. "Ant.. I'm soaked, why..."

"Thought you said your pussy was too sore sweetheart," he hummed, squeezing some lube onto his fingers before rubbing just over her ass. "Is this okay, baby?"

"Oh my god," she moaned, "yes, just.. slow.. please."

One arm took its place pushing her knees back again as he slipped the tip of one finger inside her before cooing to soothe her, "of course love, nice and slow. Relax for me." She tugged her lip between her teeth, muffling her groans as his finger pushed deeper inside her until it bottomed out inside her. Her breath was strained as she tried to force her muscles to relax and take what he gave, but she was still squeezing around his shallow thrusts like a vice.

As his knuckles brushed over her pussy lips, he realized that the new sensation was riling her up just as much as it was him. "Oh babe, you like this don't you? Like me fingering your tight little ass?"

"Yes, fuck, it feels so good," she moaned as he curled a finger inside her.

He hummed along to her gorgeous sounds, before shuffling down the bed to level his head with her pussy, though never pausing the slow pace of his finger. He was so enticed by the glistening scent of her arousal that he couldn't wait longer to taste, darting his tongue out to part her folds that licking a stripe all the way up. He punctuated his first motion with a final flick over her clit, and her groan sounded near animalistic. "Shit, you taste so good babe. You're like honey."

She was so tightly balled up under his arm that she could hardly even squirm under the pleasure, forced to just closed her eyes and embrace the bliss that overwhelmed her. He continued his kitten licks up her slit, savoring the sweetness that now coated his lips and chin, occasionally alternating to drawing delicate circles around her clit.

Anthony was obsessed with this pussy. She felt like satin as he glided through his folds, and he had to pause just to pepper firm kisses all over. He was making out with it now, slipping his tongue out into her just like he would with her mouth, and focusing on massaging her with the rolls and nips of his lips.

"Ant, please, more, I'm getting there," she whined. He could barely decipher her words through the thick breaths they slipped through, but she was telling him something he already knew. Every time he brushed over her clit, she was squeezing her ass around the probing of his finger, clenching everything to hold herself back from the edge.

"What do you think baby, can you take another finger? Let me stretch you out a little more, and then you can cum for me?"

"Promise you'll let me... Ant I can't wait more..."

"You can cum whenever you like now sweetheart, I promise," he cooed, curling his finger deeper and rubbing against the spot that had her breath hitching. "Just want you getting nice and used to cumming with your ass filled."

She started nodding frantically as she found the breath to stammer a weak "yes".

He grinned at how pliant she was now, pushing another finger into her tight hole and his tongue into her pussy, fully stuffing her holes as her head lolled back into the mattress. The moan she let out was lush and gravelly, as the only sensation she could register was being stretched full. He tried to draw out her pleasure further by sucking around her pussy while his tongue twirled inside, but he already felt her clenching down. He lapped up her spilled juices one last time then latched onto her clit, suckling there as he felt the beginning of her undoing. Her ass was squeezing him impossibly tight, holding his fingers in place deep inside her, giving him just enough liberty to curl and coax the tension out of her, while his lips took over her focus. She was twitching under his mouth now, her breath accelerating and coming out in sharp bursts, until he hummed against her in a wordless instruction to let go.

The fire that burned through her as he sucked harder was blinding, and she lost her connection to anything that wasn't him. Her limbs went slack, as he eased her legs down to the mattress with his free hand and quickly starting rubbing soothing circles over her upper thigh. She was squeezing his head in place now as her moans climbed higher and higher in pitch until they turned into languid screams. All the releases she'd been denied seemed to had pile on top of one another, culminating in this final, earth-shattering, mind-numbing fire, that felt in this moment like it would never burn out.

She couldn't tell for how long her pussy had pulsed of its own accord and for how long her throat had screamed itself raw, but as soon as she could pry her eyes open she'd found him unmoved, still greedily lapping up all the juices she'd given him. She mustered a little whimper to get his attention, letting her hand wander into his curls and tug to bring him up closer to her. He smirked and left her pussy with a final kiss, before sitting up and clumsily wiping her slick off his face with the back of his hand. Eagerly he pushed off his boxers then lay next to her, capturing her again in a heated kiss against trembling lips.

"That feel good baby?" He mumbled against her, stifling a laugh because she was so clearly still under a cloak of bliss.

Words felt so out of reach now, as all she could find were the heated spots on her body where his skin pressed to her own. His leg tossed over hers, his hand resting on her cheek, and his chest pressing against her shoulder was satisfying just a tiny fraction of her need for him to cover every inch of her skin, to swallow her up into his essence once again. The only way she could communicate this now was to press against his chest to withdraw from the kiss and have her eyes searing with need while she rasped "more."

He loved that she was insatiable, in part because his cock had been aching since the moment he walked in and saw her sprawled out and rubbing herself through pretty moans. He didn't have to be asked twice, as he swung his knee over to the other side of her hip and leaned down to press a soothing kiss to her forehead. He reached down with one hand to hoist her leg up and make room then line himself up with her entrance.

His lips stayed glued to the flushed skin of her face as he pressed inside her, fighting through the way she clenched down around him. When he was fully sheathed, he gave her a moment to breathe through his murmured assurances. "So good for me Jas, you feel like heaven. Can I move now baby?"

"Mhmm, please." Her back was arched off the bed and he could feel her leg shaking even as he bore all the weight. She was completely lost in him, tangling her fingers into his curls to keep him right there, knowing he was her tether to reality as her mind was blown into some euphoria she couldn't place.

He pulled out just a few inches before pressing back in slowly, knowing how sensitive she was by her labored breaths alone. The rhythm he built to was barely faster than these first few pushes, drawing all his attention to the way she was squeezing him like her pussy was hand-crafted just to be stretched so right by him. He held her face gently with his thumb stroking her cheek so their eyes could latch together, just wanting to keep her soothed and nicely fucked open. "You're perfect Jasmine, everything about you. Your noises are so fucking adorable and the way you took all that was stunning. You were so good for me."

She could only whimper back, as his cock left her breathless. He was stretching her perfectly, with the slightest pain melting into a pleasure that burned all the way into her stomach with his careful thrusts. Nothing about the way her pussy ached and her chest heaved could change how he felt like absolute bliss.

It didn't take long for him to get close to the edge. Even with a slow pace, he was in bliss from the way she was squeezing him tighter than ever. "God Jas, this pussy was made for me. I love your pussy so much," he groaned, as the kisses peppered down the side of her face got lazier and sloppier. He never sped up, but now that his peak was in sight he added a rut to the end of his strokes inside of her, inching deeper while giving her clit even more that it could handle. Her arms flew around his neck, pulling him down to her while she cried nonsense about being close. "Me too" was muffled by the way he kissed the angle of her jaw over and over, yearning to give her comfort as his arms slipped under her arched back to hold her steady to his chest as they both fell into climax together.

They each held the other so tightly that there was barely any leverage to move, so Anthony just rubbed his hips against hers while her walls fluttered. The arms he'd looped under her squeezed her even tighter as he released with a loud grunt into her neck, shooting his load deep inside her. "Fuck, I love you Jas, I love your body and your pussy and you, Jas. I love you so much."

Their chests were rising and falling in perfect sync as the panted breaths of ecstasy and exhaustion began to level out moment by moment, though nothing changed about the way they clung to one another. Jasmine mewled every time he tried to move even an inch. In her clouded mind, their bodies were one now and she needed both halves to function. 

Finally, he hushed her while he rolled to the side so he could pull out and pull her in closer, and immediately she found her place curled into his chest. Both his arms were holding her securely so she could burrow her flushed face into his chest, letting her arm drape over his waist so her lazy fingers could drag up and down his back in soothing strokes. Her heart still thudded and rang in her ears, but his arms had her grounded. If she needed to sleep for years, this was the way to do it. This was serenity.

"Sorry for not waiting," she purred, nuzzling her head even deeper into his chest, coaxed to melt by the warmth of his lips against the crowd of her head.

His fingertips glided up her back before threading through her curls, soothing her with their gentle massaging of her scalp. "It's okay babe, this ended up being just as fun I think. Maybe you should be a brat more often."

[thesoggy-1]

breakfast lovers

"what the hell is your deal?"

eggshells drop to the ground

you were cooking me breakfast rather bitterly

i can only remember you being bitter

you buttered me up when you wanted to fuck me

that's the only time you were kind

"are you gonna answer?"

why were you asking me this?

why do you always ask for more?

you had whipped back looking me in the eyes this time

your hair tied back in its normal bun, shaved to the sides

i missed your long hair.

"honey, breakfast is almost ready."

you said with a smile

danish accent for this land was not yours

miles to kilometers

inches to centimeters

fahrenheit to celsius

"how'd you sleep last night? i know you said something about your dreams bothering you again"

no i hadn't

but you knew

frost blue eyes

soft pale skin

and oh yes the dreams. they were bad, too vivid

i was losing you and id never even met you

"how do you like your eggs?"

you had your back turned

you thought i was strong

dark skin, beautiful teeth and eyes

id thought about stealing them.

"i'll put some sugar in your coffee, babe. just let me take care of you"

you were different. i liked it.

you didn't hide you told me things

we were both fucked and we knew that.

god, if only you knew how bad it was

"i saw my dad"

you filled me with dread

i can't remember you anymore

you moved away as i tried to move closer

gore and such. made me want-

maybe i shouldn't write that, not yet.

"and you still don't talk. what's wrong with me"

nothing, it's my fault

but no its not. it yours

your blood, made me this way

your last name

it's not your fault. why can't you be less like him?

you even cook like him. though you are your mothers child

"emily and cameron wanted to see if we wanted to go."

it was never just us, you were scared of me

filipino, gorgeous

shaggy black hair

lips, god your lips

"my mom said she likes you"

this is the last time i'll be here, you're too scared

i can tell

you're nervous, your hands shaking as you flip the pan

no matter how gentle i am

i suppose i'm too loud, too many 'fuck you''s

"i need a ride home"

of course you do, maybe give me my shit back.

you knew it was important

i'm glad it's giving you nightmares

you gave me nightmares

i hate you

"as long as you're happy, baby"

you'd stop cooking, black coffee

please, i'm asking for help.

please please please

don't promote it; i just wanna see myself

do you think i need too?

does it make you hard?

do you get off on suffering? of course you do

“too bad you don't realize"

flipped the toast with a sigh

i'll leave you to think that.

play the fool, i had a feeling you knew

no we laugh about how it happened

maybe I had convinced both of us

"i suppose if you wouldn't have texted--"

yeah yeah you've said it before.

you're such a bitch sometimes

you and your mom probably hate me

i'll see you tomorrow, though

i still love you, friend

"i'm sorry, you're not leaving, right?"

god shut up. you're getting tears in my tea

i'm often bitter but not at people other than myself

but you were an exception.

all you did was not hurt me back.

why aren't you angry

"i still love you"

of course you do.

anxious attachment style was your personality

i hated it, it terrified me.

you were too close yet so fucking far

maybe i'm the crazy one, for helping you

maybe your theories were right, music and pot

maybe you're my soulmate, love and distance

maybe you're the realistic one, near and truthful

maybe you're just like him, awful and tormentous

maybe it was me, loud and secret

maybe it's good i don't have you to take care of, needy and childlike

maybe will be best friends for life, fire and air

maybe i was the crazy one.

"nothing, i just want you to stop"

"thank you, love. and they're getting better now that you're real"

"well done. thank you so much, you know sleeps hard. I love you"

"you're too much like him. you scare me"

"yeah that's fine with me. your mom seems sweet, i'm glad"

"no, you have no regard for me. why would i give you a ride?"

"yeah, haha i guess you're right. i'm glad i did"

"i can't do this. please let me go."

"Breakfast is ready"

-C. Lee

[brighterthanghosts]

Meant for Romance

Word count: 1,893

Part 1/1

Pairing: Taishiro (past Koumi)

Read below the cut or on ao3

Summary:  “So let me get this straight,” Miyako says, swiftly biting into her toast. “You got sloppy drunk on a Tuesday and hooked up with your hot best friend. He let you sleep in his bed overnight and brought you breakfast.” 

“And now you’re here, having breakfast with me,” Miyako says with a bored sigh, “When you could be having a coffee-flavored makeout sesh with your hot best friend.”

Heavily implied nsfw. Lots of awkward. Humor maybe? Largely fueled by too much coffee at 4 a.m.

So warm.

Koushiro doesn’t remember ever feeling so cozy in his life. He knows he needs to get up soon — the morning sun on the other side of his eyelids beckons him to start the day. But sleep is still within his grasp, and his pillow smells so nice, like sage and bergamot and mint. He recognizes that scent, though he can’t quite place it, but his brain supplies him with hot breaths on his neck and a husky coo of his name.

Koushiro shivers, pulls the cotton sheet under his chin, and revels in the way it drags across his skin. His skin. All of his skin.

Eyes snapping open, Koushiro jolts up. The sheet, having fallen to the tops of his thighs, answers his first question, but — Where the hell am I?

He remembers Mimi, her pretty hair pulled back, making her deep-set frown stand out even more. She told him it wasn’t working out, that there’s someone else, that this just wasn’t doing it for her anymore. I wasn’t doing it for her at all.

He remembers calling Taichi, desperate and agonizing. Taichi saying he’d be there in 30 minutes. Taichi hailing down a cab to take them to a bar where “the drinks are cheap and totally worth it.” Taichi making him feel better instantly with big grins and fond laughter because that’s what friends do.

Spotting his clothes loosely folded on the desk chair across from the bed, Koushiro moves hastily and slips his underwear on, left foot then right foot. He knows he told Taichi about the breakup. Well, it wasn’t really a breakup, considering he and Mimi had never put a label to what they were doing, which wasn’t much.

Koushiro was busy, and Mimi was needy. She needed things from him that he couldn’t give. They’d tried to engage in sexual activities exactly twice, and neither time could Koushiro perform. It was something that embarrassed him to no end because he liked Mimi and he thought she was cute, but for the entire 8 months they were seeing each other, his body just wouldn’t respond.

Taichi spent most of that conversation listening, Koushiro realizes now, and he never poked fun or judged him. He loves that about Taichi. He’s working on the fourth button of his white dress shirt when his eyes dart to a Polaroid photo propped up on the desk. In the bottom right-hand corner reads ‘The Yagamis 2002.’  Nonononono.

And it hits him like a bullet train. Rough hands, harsh lips. Hips colliding, hot with need. Smooth, sun-kissed skin everywhere. Taichi over him, eyes wide and lips swollen. “Perfect. You’re so perfect.”

“Fuck,” Koushiro stutters, palms suddenly clamy. He’s got both legs in his pants, pulling them up in one swoop, and he hears the door unlock. Fuck.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Taichi says, smiling. At least, Koushiro suspects he’s smiling, but he doesn’t want to know. He can’t bring himself to look at his friend. He hears a rustle of plastic and something heavy hitting the table, but his mind can only focus on slipping on his socks at light speed.

“Sorry to leave you alone,” Taichi sounds sincere. It makes Koushiro feel worse. “I didn’t have much in the fridge, so I ran to the convenience store down the street. I grabbed that bottled Oolong you like. I hope eggs and — you’re leaving?”

“Sorry, Taichi-san. I have to go.” And Koushiro is out the door, leaving Taichi to stand alone in his little apartment.

***

He’s not sure where he’s going, not exactly paying attention, but he spots a park and some familiar treelines, and he manages to make it to a door, knocking furiously.

A beat passes, and he knocks again.

“Jesus, what!?” Miyako says, whipping the door open and looking like she just rolled out of bed. She eyes Koushiro, his tousled hair, frazzled expression, and haphazard outfit.

“Either you’ve met a very unfriendly tornado, or you’re doing the walk of shame,” she says, causing Koushiro to flush from the neck up. “Ah. Walk of shame, huh? Come in.”

The next 20 minutes are filled with Miyako filling her toaster and putting on a pot of coffee while Koushiro relays the previous night’s events with record speed. He’s beet red.

“So let me get this straight,” Miyako says, swiftly biting into her toast. “You got sloppy drunk on a Tuesday and hooked up with your hot best friend. He let you sleep in his bed overnight and brought you breakfast.”

She pauses to look directly into his soul, and Koushiro would like nothing more than to simply pass away.

“And you panicked.” Miyako’s tone is pointed, but when she doesn’t immediately continue, Koushiro opens his mouth to reply in uncoordinated hand gestures and wordless exasperation. He nods instead.

“And now you’re here, having breakfast with me,” Miyako says with a bored sigh, “When you could be having a coffee-flavored makeout sesh with your hot best friend.”

“It’s not like that!” Koushiro defends. Taichi was his very first friend and probably his closest friend — there was no way he could jeopardize that. His failed attempt at a relationship with Mimi was proof enough that Koushiro isn’t meant for romantic endeavors of any kind.

“I just got out of a relationship!” Koushiro pleads, but Miyako’s expression is solid. She’s not buying this for a moment. Softer, Koushiro says, “And Taichi is my friend. I don’t want to take advantage of him.”

“He obviously didn’t mind,” Miyako, says, annoyed and unimpressed with Koushiro’s half-hearted explanation. Koushiro grunts and looks down at the kitchen counter — he’s not entirely sure he believes himself. Miyako sighs again, this time with a hint of sincere tiredness woven in, and saunters toward her bedroom. “Tragic.”

***

The drive to the office is mostly silent, except for Miyako’s intermittent humming to whatever song is playing on the radio. Koushiro can’t make out any of the words over the sound of his heart thrumming like an upright bass in his ears. Miyako doesn’t seem to notice.

It’s times like this when he truly appreciates her — hiring Miyako as his assistant director was one of his best decisions. She always sorts him out when he gets too caught up in the details. Which is probably why he randomly showed up at her home this morning.

They’re walking into the building, and Miyako greets the receptionist quickly, shielding Koushiro from anyone passing through. He looks a mess, he knows, and Miyako’s being kind by attempting to uphold his reputation. She walks him all the way to his office, reminding him to pull the curtain over the glass windows by his door. She says to find her when he’s done.

It was also Miyako who mothered him into keeping spare clothes at the office after one too many all-nighters. “You look like a trash panda, honestly.”

The morning goes as usual, answering emails, IMing Miyako about the slides for their monthly report. He doesn’t notice when noon rolls around. He doesn’t pay attention when his office door opens, or when the sound of rustling plastic makes its second appearance today.

“Koushiro,” comes a soft voice. Koushiro’s fingers hover above his keyboard and a shiver runs down his spine. “Koushiro,” Taichi says again.

He knows he needs to respond but he can’t pull himself away from his safety net just yet. His fingers touch down on the keyboard again, and he exhales shakily.

“Hello, Taichi-san.”

“I was worried you didn’t eat, so I brought you lunch,” Taichi says quietly. It’s unlike him, and it breaks Koushiro’s heart. He knows he’s being selfish. He knows he should acknowledge his friend, but —

“Koushiro, please,” Taichi says, voice sadder now, a tinge of anguish in that last word. “Can we please talk?”

Koushiro freezes again. He’s so utterly fucked and completely inexperienced in all aspects of what’s sure to unfold here. But Taichi sounds hurt, and he doesn’t want to be someone who hurts Taichi.

He swivels around in his chair, facing Taichi on the sofa but looking at the ground where the toe of his shoe meets the wood floor. He wants to say something, taps his foot a few times, and finally looks up.

“Taichi-san, I —”

“What the fuck?”

“Huh?” Koushiro says, caught off guard. Mimi is storming into his office, face fire-engine red.

“You cheated on me?!” She squawks.

“Excuse me?” Koushiro musters because this is his ex, and his mother taught him to mind his manners, but he feels offended.

“Sora heard from Yamato that you slept with someone last night!” Mimi is causing a scene. A few of Koushiro’s colleagues have poked their heads into the hallway outside Koushiro’s office.

“Did you know about this? Who is she?”

She’s addressing Taichi now, who sinks deeper into the sofa and looks like he might combust, and Koushiro’s blood is boiling. He stands, moving into her line of vision.

“Mimi-san, I hardly think anything I did last night could be considered cheating as we never defined the exclusivity of our relationship and you said there was someone else.” Koushiro says with as much confidence as he can. “I think that gives me the right to do as I want.”

Mimi stomps her foot and raises her arms, ready to shout a thousand expletives, but Miyako is through the door and in Mimi’s face like a forcefield.

“Good afternoon, and welcome to Izumi Corporation. My name is Inoue Miyako, and I’m the lead director of team shut down. As in, I’m shutting this down immediately,” Miyako says, straight faced and with her kindest customer service voice. The first-floor security guard stands just outside Koushiro’s office, already escorting Mimi out. Miyako follows after them, stopping in the doorframe. “Thank you for your visit to Izumi Corp! Have a nice day!”

She smiles and waves, and Koushiro feels like he can breathe again. He has know idea what just happened, and his head is pounding. Miyako’s smile falls, eyebrows pull together, and from the doorway, she points her finger at Koushiro and yells, “I expect a raise!”

She shuts his curtains, slams the door behind her and disappears after that. Koushiro’s mind would normally leave the train station in 50 directions at once, but he’s just stunned. He turns, hoping to find Advil in his desk drawer, and — Taichi!

“Taichi-san, I’m so sorry,” Koushiro turns around to face him, and it’s all he can do because Taichi doesn’t deserve any of this. Taichi is looking at him unexpectedly, reaches a hand up to scratch at the nape of his neck and smiles slightly.

“So,” Taichi says and pauses, looking at the table, “lunch?”

Koushiro stares in awe. Taichi smiles and after a beat, looks up and says, “And maybe we can start this day over?”

They spend the rest of the afternoon talking, and Koushiro apologizes with his entire being. For the event with Mimi. For leaving him. For being so cold. Taichi reassures every “I’m sorry.” Taichi says it’s okay because he doesn’t expect the world Koushiro. Taichi is his best friend. Taichi would like to try last night again. Today, preferably, with less alcohol, but he isn’t pushing.

They weathered a year’s worth of drama in a single day. Koushiro is still breathing, and Taichi still smiles at him like Koushiro is the sun. And maybe Koushiro is meant for romance.

[abloomingperiod]

baekhyun as a bf

it wasn’t supposed to be this big tbh

you can tell by the fucker’s face, he is annoying af

k seriously tho

even though byun is all smiles and pranks he definitely seems like a serious person on the personal side

constantly asking himself if it’s the right thing to do putting u in such a historically brutal position such as dating an idol

you having to reassure him way too often that it was your decision to make, not his

“sweetie i’m here because i want to stop going off” “cool but like are you su-” “dude i swEAR TO GOD”

it’s not something he likes thinking it just happens okay he’s worried b patient to the babee

since his last relationship didn’t end up very well, he would probably take mONTHS to actually claim you as his girlfriend

seriously tho i fume just thinking about that time

it happened on a friday night when he was playing on the pc, chanyeol was calling and babyboi was like “srry cant talk rn exchanging breaths with my girl”

you were scrunching your nose for a sec but them you realized what he said and were like !!!!

him enjoying the fact his words got you so flustered and playing it cool like chill out dude as if you didn’t know we were dating by now

????????? in fact ou were so surprised bcs u didn’t even know the boys knew abt ur existence

“like... they KNOW??????”

“of cOURSE they know junmyeon would kick my ass if i didn’t explain to him why i missed our dinner last night”

you guys are so comfortable with the fact your relationship ain’t official you decided at the same night thisbis how you prefered to stay like

he’s not okay with going public after what happened in the past and you agree and support his desire to keep it private

i could write a whole essay dissing saesangs

that doesn’t mean he won’t hang out with you

after all, you’ve been friends for ages now

and the boys know abt u

chanyeol keeps biting byun’s butt but you’re okay with that

was there any other option? ofc not

talking about ass

he’s one

honestly such a tease

always finding a way to make u flustered

“babe look at me” “what” “i love you” “god i love you too” “and your ass looks amazing today” “leave me alone”

always slaps your butt

doesn’t matter the context

sexual or not

he loves him some butt

lol dates

like literally you sit there and spend the night playing and eating together

every lol date is a different dish ordered

since you gotta keep it low profile

might as well do it right

he’s an observer

constantly stops what he’s doing to admire you

sometimes you’re like watching a movie or idk brushing ur teeth

he stands there in the door frame all dumbfounded burning loveholes into your skull

you’re like ...stop it

he’s like . no

he’s so emotional i’m not even exaggerating

keeps joking around when he’s around people and everybody seems to think he’s a dork who just can’t stop talking nonsense

(which he is)

but when you guys are alone

oh boy

he’s so sensible

literally writes on post-its and places it around your apartment before he leaves for practice on mornings

not all of them are cute tho

once your friend was like “hey y/n idcwho’s dicking you down but i think the person got the feels”

you completely forgot to take off the “your taste already left my mouth. dinner tonight at 8 and i’ll be eating twice” post-it

like

he literally put it in your refrigerator’s door

you legit wanted to die

but then on other days it’s like

“i promised, throughout my whole life, this heart belongs to you.”

honestly so intense

when you guys argue it’s like a conquest to see who can act more like a spoiled kid

but basically go off with your frustrations and then one of u ends up cooling off in the shower

later either you or him get in there too asking if the other is feeling better

tbh not that often do u guys fight

most of the times is like

“okay,,, this is unnecessary” “yeah screw it”

but sometimes it gets really heated

and you’re both frustrated

straightforward speaking, you guys have sex

very

rough

sex

he’s a switch k let’s be real

loves making you beg

loves begging for you

not the type to degrade or hurt you or anything

like he’s a light dom

and by that i mean he will pound in you rough and slow until you’re begging him to let you cum but keeps kissing your flushed cheeks and tightly intertwining your hands as he lovingly whispers “you fucking love those type of fights don’t you”

loves LOVES being blindfolded

lowkey a freak but moderately

absolutely loves it when he ties you up and makes you say exactly what you want

will always stuck two or three fingers in so you have a hard time speaking

as i was saying, the absolute worst

“baekhyun... please-“ “fucking say it” “please... baby... fuck me” “hard nut”

is shamelessly vocal

groans

whimpers

desperate moans

aftercare baekhyun is a look

his hair all disheveled, dazed eyes and flushed lips

yk that look from the city lights photoshoot with his glossy skin and damp hair

yeah

he loves you so much and seeing you all blissed out after sex makes him, curiously, very very soft

everything you guys said during the argument is quickly forgotten as you exchange a few sorry’s and deep kisses in between

loves feeling your skin against his as he embraces your shoulders hugging you to his chest

you leave pecks on the scratchings your nails did on his skin and he just lays there all fucked out and smiles like 💕💞💓💘💘💖💗💞💓💗💕💝💘💖💕💞💓💗💗💞💖💘💞💘💖

and he’s horny again

it’s not like he’s a teenager he just absolutely loves being this intimate to you

and then you have a bath together bcs sticky

loves making coffee like at 6am to you so he can wake you up and have breakfast together

the type to wake you in this worst way possible

he rips the sheets off of you

regardless of how cold it is at that hour

and jumps over

“wake up egg”

as you guys head to the kitchen he sits you on his lap and feeds you :(

his arms around your waist and keeps leaving tiny pecks on your cheeks as he rests his cheek on your back and heavily sighs

“ya your breath stinks”

“you stink dummy”

sings ballads out of the blue

you’re like reading or smth

and he’s like

appado gWAENCHANHA

“shut it or i’ll rip off your chords with my bare hands”

“i dare you”

you actually made out after you chased him around the couch

so annoyingly dense

like you were taking your clothes off

his lips on your neck

and then he’s like

“btw my mother wants to meet you”

you literally froze

bra slipping off your shoulders

“????? you mother kNOWS?????”

“ofc she knows she’s my mother wtf”

“!!!!!!!!!BAEKHYUN”

doesn’t understand the concept of Time And Place

once you were on the bathtub massaging his feet after hours of practice and he was like yo ever thought about kids

i ran out of reactions so basically you cursed at him for five minutes

he was like 🥺🥺 just saying srry

it took you more five to explain to him it wasn’t that you hated kids you just thought it was something to talk about on another time

like

five years another time

maybe ten

he was like k we can have a dog

and now you have a dog together along with mongryong

a cutie called jinx

don’t ask

fucking nerd

you were like

she’s new so treat her as kindly as mongryong

baekhyun is a pain in the ass but in a matter of hours he was like

i bought the same clothes for them

you rolled your eyes but silently got the heart eyes bcs cute

loves watching you dressing yourself

especially for your low profile dates

“hm no too hard to take off”

“...a monochromatic two piece with a zipper in the skirt?”

“my point exactly”

tbh he Is kinda horny

but that’s bcs he’s mad for you

loves it when you style his hair

“baekhyun can’t you stand still for like two minutes” “oh sorry”

you’re standing there, focused on the task

30 secs on it and his hands are already caressing your tummy

you’re like stop i’m bUSY

he’s like no one’s stopping you

but keeps tickling you

idk he really treasures those tiny little details in the moments you spend together

everything is important to him

doesn’t mean he’s like insanely needy of your attention

no you’re two individuals who have their own lives and schedules

he keeps it cool but yeah he’s bananas for you

sorry his words

everything is so domestic with him

and so good

he’s been through a lot throughout the years and this relationship is the calmness he needed

and he’s the fun and lightness you needed after spending so much time trying and acting like a “grownup”

baekhyun brings back the teenager in you

but in a good way

you complete each other so well sigh

cuz you’re like all responsible and shit

he loves the juxtaposition

so do you

idk it feels right

you love like teenagers but live like adults

also his words

[grither55]

The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 14 - The Day After

Azula knelt before her father just having concluded her report on Elle while he gazed down at her with intrigued golden eyes.

"Very well Azula. It is indeed prudent for such a valuable guest to remain under your supervision. I will allow you to keep the girl as your handmaid." Ozai spoke with his hand rubbing his beard while his twenty-year old daughter gazed up through the orange flames.

"Understood, Father. I believe that through whatever means…that sent this young girl here…should we be able to decipher this puzzle…it could lead to a potential alliance with this Rieko that she has spoken of. And who knows…what other wonders await in this foreign land." The princess commented while brushing her hair from her eyes sighing all the while.

"Hm. I applaud you for thinking this through so thoroughly. Inform me of any developments as soon as you are aware of them. That will be all…Azula." The Fire Lord concluded while waving his hand for the princess to depart.

"It will be done Father." Azula agreed as she arose while giving Ozai a curt nod before turning as she strode for the doors of the throne room.

The princess exited the throne room of the Fire Lord while his eyes followed her all the while.

She was well aware that he has been keeping a closer watch on her now that she was older and in a much more favorable position to overthrow him if she wished to try.

The thought had undoubtedly crossed her mind quite often.

And she was mulling the matter over more frequently as of late.

At the moment she realized that she was most looking forward to coffee with her handmaid at eight.

A full one hour later than usual.

It was now seven-thirty.

With that in mind she began to stride towards her study with her hands folded behind her back.

And most peculiar was the fact that she was almost smiling.

When Azula arrived at her study she had been surprised and even angered to find the door ajar.

Until she sniffed the air while pushing the door open to note the smell of fresh coffee in the air.

As well as a hot breakfast.

'Twenty minutes early…even after such a long night?' The princess thought with a finger on her chin as she smiled in approval.

That is until she stepped into the room.

She was even further astonished to see Elle seated at the foot of her throne with her arms folded beneath her looking…rather unwell.

The regal woman quickly closed the door with the sudden noise startled the evidently exhausted girl.

"Are you not feeling well this morning servant?" Azula pondered with a faint frown while swiftly striding across the distance of her study.

The small blonde peered up at her with a brighter countenance after noticing her presence.

"Ohayō Gozaimasu Azula-sama…" Elle responded sweetly before dropping into a bow on the floor before Azula while the woman peered down at her in approval.

"Hm. Good girl. So good…" The princess cooed while bending over to pat the blushing blonde's soft head of hair.

"T-this girl is glad that you think so princess…" The blonde-haired girl mumbled while smiling softly despite how woozy she felt.

"I approve of your punctuality. Are…you not eating this morning?" Azula asked while standing up once more with her eyes sweeping about her table.

"I-I don't feel very good. I feel…shaky." Elle stated quietly while Azula glanced down at her with a margin of concern in her cold eyes.

"I see…let me have a look at you." The princess spoke while seating herself upon her throne all the while gazing down at her with stern eyes.

Then the older female wagged her finger in a come-hither motion that prompted the tired girl to scramble forward on command.

"Come…sit beside me and stay still." Azula commanded while peering down at Elle when the girl knelt before her with her needy little eyes gazing upward.

"Yes master…" The blonde-haired girl answered softly while two warm hands grasped her cheeks in a careful manner.

"Mhm. Your face is warm…for a nonbender. I suppose Ty Lee was right. You may go lay down Elle. I will…check on you in a few hours." The princess announced with her strict eyes never ceasing in peering down into her pet's-tired eyes.

"Arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama!" Elle chirped with a faint return to her cheerful demeanor while Azula reclined back into her throne.

"Well? I just gave you an order…get going before I decide to put you to work." Azula snorted while reaching for her coffee cup with a pleased smile on her lips.

What a marvelous little pet she has.

Elle will make for a splendid girlfriend.

"Um…m-may I sleep somewhere else…" The blonde-haired girl requested pitifully like a saddened puppy while the princess peered down at her sighing heavily.

"Is this somewhere else on my thigh?" The princess questioned while gazing down at her bashful handmaid in a pointed manner.

The timid drop of Elle's little face was all the confirmation and more that she needed of the girl's desired sleeping place.

'Grand…now this girl thinks she can just sleep in my lap every morning…' Azula thought while massaging the bridge of her nose before down swallowing a gulp of coffee.

"I-if Her Highness will allow it." Elle mumbled with a blush while twiddling her thumbs under Azula's judgmental stare.

"I have work to do…I can't have you in my lap all morning clawing at me like a clingy kitten." The princess replied with her eyes peering down at the kneeling girl in a near emotionless manner.

The small blonde's shoulders visibly slumped upon hearing those harsh words.

She had…been hoping that Azula would be willing to hold her after all of the time they spent bonding last night.

"S-sumimasen Azula-sama." The blonde-haired girl stammered while bowing her head as she began to push herself to her feet.

It was then that her amber eyes widened in surprise when a strong hand clamped down onto her shoulder.

"Which is why I will only permit this…for oh…maybe two hours. After that…if you wish to continue your nap…you'll have to find another place to put your head." Azula explained with her eyes narrowing down at Elle's small frame all the while sipping her morning beverage.

An expression of joy overcame the young girl while she stared down at Elle when the girl peered up at her with one of her usual sunny smiles.

"Wakarimashita!" Elle cried out while almost springing upward in her usual excited manner before sinking back into the floor moaning in discomfort.

All the while Azula glanced down at her shaking her head in disapproval before setting down her mug beside her steaming breakfast.

"Perhaps you should wait until you are feeling better before you beginning leaping about like a tiger monkey? Hm?" The princess asked while leaning forward with her hands now resting on her thighs.

"Azula-sama is right…I feel sick…" The blonde-haired girl whined on the floor like a needy child while she listened to the regal woman sigh above her.

"Drinking too much will do that to you. Well? What are you waiting for? Come here Elle." Azula announced with her right hand patting her thigh as she gazed down at her little admirer while beckoning the petite girl forward.

"P-please hold me Azula-sama…" Elle murmured in a meeker voice than even her usual while slumping into the large throne before plopping her sweating face onto Azula's shapely thigh.

"Isn't that what I am doing servant? Though I will forewarn you…if you puke on my leg…you will find yourself wishing you had returned to your bed." The princess remarked while glaring down at her quivering pet laying upon her thigh with icy golden eyes.

"I-I won't. I promise. I just want to be with my protector." The blonde-haired girl whimpered while sprawling her arms in in the seat with her face buried in the older girl's leg.

"Your protector?" Azula repeated just as she surveyed her meal with approval in her cold eyes.

The girl brought her everything that she ordered and even when sick, it was served flawlessly.

"Her Highness stated that this loyal servant was the only one to have all three kindnesses…that I might be her…g-girl. That makes Azula-sama my protector…r-right?" Elle spoke in a shaky voice while Azula glanced down at her from beneath the table.

"I suppose it does. I have never been anyone's protector…not until now anyway. Though…I must say this doesn't look too comfortable for you…not that I don't enjoy the sight of you bowing of course. But still…wouldn't a bed be better?" The princess pondered with a tilt of her head while swallowing a bite of her eggs.

All the while making no comment when the small girl hugged on her thigh in a whiny manner that she found to be rather clingy.

But…she already knew that Elle would be a needy girlfriend.

Somehow, she was okay with that.

"Not unless Azula-sama is in that bed…Her Highness is home…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off in a mousy voice while pressing her face into the princess's well-formed thigh with a faintly more peaceful demeanor.

"I see. You…wish to be beside me no matter what. Ever loyal to your master." Azula commented with a finger on her chin while gracefully consuming her meal.

This lovely girl is going to make for the prime submissive wife…

"T-that's so. You are my alpha Azula-sama. I will never betray my princess." Elle spoke in an emotional voice while embracing the princess's thigh all while the woman peered down at her with pleased golden eyes.

Then she felt a palm plant in her hair all the while closing her eyes just as Azula began to pet her.

Long fingers ran through her hair while she listened to the subtle sounds of the regal woman eating her meal above her.

It was a truly submissive position to be in…but she didn't mind in the least.

She was with Azula-sama…she is home.

"You are a good girl. I can see why you drew my eye." The princess spoke while gazing under the table when the girl continued to whimper pitifully.

She was almost regretting taking her out.

She didn't expect her to be this sensitive to drinking.

"M-my head hurts Azula-sama. It feels like its imploding." The blonde-haired girl confessed in a sensitive voice with her eyes becoming misty.

Azula stared down at Elle while watching a teardrop stream down her fair skin before sighing softly as she began to rub the bridge of her nose.

'If this was anyone else…' The princess thought while swallowing her coffee before lowering her palm over the young girl's forehead.

Then Elle's emotive eyes widened when she watched long fingers slide within her line of vision.

And then Azula's palm began to knead her scalp with just a faint heat provided by her bending.

"If you tell anyone about this…you won't be laying in my lap again. Not a word of this…of any of this. Is to be breathed outside of Mai and Ty Lee. Understand Elle?" Azula declared after swallowing a mouthful while listening to sniffling below her.

"W-wakarimashita." Elle moaned out painfully while Azula peered down at her once more with just a noticeable twinge of concern in her hardened eyes.

It did not escape her notice that particular wakarimashita was…rather glum.

Elle always cried out that silly word whenever she excitedly agreed to her most recent command.

'This…seems like an extreme reaction to her first taste of alcohol…a healer. Today she'll see a healer.' The princess thought while frowning down at her admirer's sweating visage.

"You are seeing a healer today. For your breathing condition…and anything else that may be wrong with you. Even if you can't stand. I'll have you seen." Azula announced just with one hand massaging Elle's face and the other holding her utensils.

"Y-yes Azula-sama." The blonde-haired girl agreed tearfully while clutching the older female's leg in a needy manner.

"Now try to get some rest. I'll be here if you need me." The princess commanded with her palm gently stroking the small girl's forehead while she listened to her pathetic groans.

"A-arigatou…gozaimasu princess." Elle whimpered with a few tears falling from her eyes while Azula's hand continued to pet her face.

"Just…go to sleep." Azula sighed while staring down at Elle's young face with annoyance in her golden gaze.

This time her only response was a truly pitiful moan that sounded much like a pitifully butchered 'yes Azula-sama'.

And so, the princess ate the rest of her meal in relative silence save for a groan here and there from below.

After a half an hour of stroking Elle's forehead with her bending she finally heard the teenager's breathing relax beneath her palm.

And then…

A soft snore resonated from below while she glanced down at Elle's innocent face sleeping with her mouth buried in the side of her thigh.

Azula did notice that the girl's chosen sleeping area was a bit too close to her backside…as this time she now slept on the side of her thigh versus atop it.

But…she just brushed it off musing that it didn't bother her any.

Dried tears were on the young girl's cheeks that had the princess sighing once more.

"You are so lucky that I like you. I wouldn't put up with this whining from anyone else." The princess grumbled while glaring down at the small girl's snoring face.

But even so…she couldn't help but muse that Elle was rather adorable.

Both asleep…and awake.

And with that Azula went on to continue massaging Elle's scalp all the while lazily scanning her paperwork in a less attentive manner than usual.

Her plate was now empty and pushed aside with her coffee mug.

All the while Elle continued to snooze while occasionally yawning in her sleep much to her slight amusement.

Soon an hour passed her by, and then another hour, and then…

Azula had spent over two hours rubbing Elle's sleeping forehead before finally her palm simply settled unmoving in the softly snoring teenager's hair.

Then the princess reclined in her throne with her face resting in the palm of her free hand.

And before she knew it her own eyes became drowsy…

And then Azula closed her eyes before falling into a very light sleep all the while holding Elle's small face into her thigh in an almost protective manner.

Another hour passed by while Elle mumbled in her sleep all the while hugging the monarch's thigh as if it was her last lifeline.

And then finally the princess's eyes abruptly snapped open when she heard a soft knock on her study door.

She already knew who it was before the person even spoke.

"Azula? Can I come in?" Ty Lee pondered quietly while standing with her arms folded as she listened for the sound of her friend's voice.

She already had a strong suspicion that Azula was not alone.

Given that she already asked around for Elle and checked her little sister's chambers not too long ago.

That meant only one thing, that the girl was with Azula.

Before Azula could respond her eyes widened when they landed on her clock.

It was…past one!

Curse this simpering little girl!

"Ugh…you may…but be quiet…and close the door behind you." Azula called out in a moodier voice than usual while she watched the door open slowly.

Then it shut soon after while she now glared at Ty Lee's smiling face through the corner of her eye.

The acrobat gazed down at Elle's rather…questionable sleeping location before giggling with her hand over her mouth.

"Aww…" The brown-haired woman gushed softly while making no comment that the girl was sleeping rather close to the princess's backside.

"Be silent. This is all your fault. She's been crying all morning about how her head is imploding. I offered to let her go lay in her bed…but she begged to sleep in my lap instead." The princess complained with her face resting in her palm even still.

A good portion of Ty Lee's cheer vanished after hearing how sick Elle was.

Though it was adorable that Elle would rather…sleep in such an uncomfortable position just to be near Azula.

"That was before eight. Her whining was so insufferable that I had no choice but to massage her forehead for two hours. After an hour she finally fell asleep…and myself…about halfway through. And then…I wake up to discover that half of the day is over." Azula snarled with her callous eyes glaring between the other woman's surprised face and her clock.

The fact that Azula spent all of that time taking care of Elle was just nothing short of astonishing.

Even if she claims she did it to shut Elle up…she knew that the princess wouldn't have done so if she didn't care.

"You…fell asleep Azula? Wow. Still…how is this my fault? I warned you over and over that this would happen." Ty Lee replied while folding her arms in her lap with the other woman staring back at her angrily.

"This was…all your idea. Had you not pushed me into it…I wouldn't have been drinking with her. Therefore…it is your fault Ty Lee." The princess concluded in a spoiled voice while the acrobat just nodded slowly.

"Uhh…right. Whatever you say Azula. Is she still sick?" The brown-haired woman asked in a concerned voice while smiling slightly over the cute snores that occasionally came from the princess's lap.

"I presume so…her forehead is still warm. I…am beginning to suspect that it is a combination of another health problem…still unknown mingling with the effects of alcohol." Azula announced casually while scanning her fingernails with her words jarring a sense of greater worry within Ty Lee.

"W-what? You…don't think that this is just drinking?" Ty Lee answered while the princess shook her head all the while frowning in response.

"She is undoubtedly sick…from her first-time drinking. But it seems…rather extreme. In any event…I'll be waking this little tiger monkey up shortly to see a healer." The princess stated with her eyes glancing down at the blonde in a strict manner.

"Well that's something…so you're settling on tiger monkey now huh?" The brown-haired woman sighed while musing that the nickname wasn't too insulting.

At least not compared to the others.

And she won't lie…she can't wait to convince Elle to try on the tiger monkey costume.

It will just be too cute!

"Humph. She's something of the sort. Clinging to my leg like a needy kitten." Azula scoffed with her pompous voice producing a curious glance from the acrobat.

"Wait…you yourself told her that she was your pet…and when she acts like your pet…you get angry? Azula…have you ever considered the fact that she might be less clingy…if you didn't…I don't know…keep telling her that she was a pet?" Ty Lee offered while waving a hand in the air with Azula staring down at Elle's snoring face.

"She is my pet Ty Lee. I am just…not usually nice to pets of any kind." The princess sighed while brushing her hair from her eyes while the other woman gazed away with a brief flicker of disgust in her eyes.

"Yeah. I am well aware Azula." The brown-haired woman responded while staring at the wall with a frown.

Before Elle arrived, Azula has been cruel to her handmaids and servants for…well all of her life.

There is a reason why they fear Azula far more than even Ozai.

The Fire Lord is far too busy to concern himself with terrorizing a handmaid over a cherry pit…but Azula on the other hand takes the time out of her busy schedule.

No matter how trivial the mistake.

"But I can't spend all day in this throne. Which is why if she still wishes for a pillow after her visit with the healer…I have decided to appoint you as my proxy." Azula commented to the other woman's amusement as she turned back to her smiling once more.

"Your proxy Azula?" Ty Lee repeated with a giggle while Azula sat glaring down into her lap.

"Indeed. It's a pretty simple job. All you need to do is find a chair…sit down…and remain stationary for a good five hours." The princess explained in a lazy voice while staring down at the small blonde's mumbling face.

"Um…I'll just go snuggle with her in her cot. Unlike you…I am not too proud to cuddle with Elle. It's likely more comfortable for her…. rather than…laying on your thigh…or wherever she is sleeping." The brown-haired woman spoke with the princess turning to her with her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Just what are you implying?" Azula demanded in an icy voice that instantly put the other woman on guard.

But even so…Ty Lee tried to stay jovial.

"She's…a bit too close to your…uh…ass." Ty Lee clarified while fidgeting under Azula's callous stare.

"Shut up Ty Lee. She started off on my thigh and gravitated…at that point I was just glad that she was falling asleep." The princess snapped with her palm still resting in the small girl's hair.

"Whatever you say Azula." The brown-haired woman agreed while smiling despite her friend's imposing stare that never left her face.

Then a slight moan resonated from the princess's lap with her eyes peering downward along with the acrobat leaning on the edge.

All the while trying her hardest to see the young girl.

"Ooh…" Elle mumbled lamely with Azula gazing down at her sighing in the palm of her hand.

"Do you have any idea what time it is girl?" Azula demanded with her icy eyes never leaving the slowly moving blonde's head.

"N-no." The blonde-haired girl stammered while she listened to the woman above her snort.

"It is well past one. And well past time that you get up off my leg and come with me to see a healer." The princess ordered while pointing a domineering finger down at the sweating girl.

"Y-yes Azula-sama." Elle agreed with yet another yawn that earned her an imposing stare from Azula and a giggle from her big sister.

But she was far too sick to get excited over even one of her oneesans being present.

"You aren't moving Elle…hey! You open your eyes now! I need to get out of this chair." Azula barked in a louder voice that instantly snapped Elle's eyes back open.

"Azula…" Ty Lee chided with a sigh while her friend naturally ignored her plea.

"I…am moving." The blonde-haired girl murmured while pushing herself up all the while wincing at the sound of her master's raised voice.

"Would you look at that…I can finally move my leg. You are a clingy little tiger monkey. Do you know that?" The princess remarked with a slight smile despite her words while peering down at her still drowsy handmaid now gazing back with an adorable blush.

"Um…y-yes?" Elle stammered out with yet another yawn while the woman gazed down at her sitting on her knees before her throne.

"Can you refrain from teasing her right now Azula? She doesn't feel well." The brown-haired woman requested warmly while staring at her friend's sighing face.

"Do you feel any better?" Azula questioned as she pushed her backside forward while staring down at Elle seated upon her knees.

"S-somewhat…but my head still hurts…and I still feel woozy." The blonde-haired girl explained in a notably delayed manner while watching her protector stare down at her.

Then Azula pushed herself to her feet before arising above Elle all the while peering down at the small girl with her lips pursed in disapproval.

"Stand servant…go sit with Ty Lee. I with return with the healer." The princess announced with her hands on her shapely hips while watching as her pet smiled up at her.

"Arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama." Elle stated softly while standing up slowly with her hand on the table leg.

Then she felt hands grasp her from behind while peering over her shoulder at the acrobat's gentle countenance smiling down at her.

"Come on little sister. Sit with me." Ty Lee spoke while aiding Elle into standing before guiding the timid teenager over to her seat.

All along she never missed how Elle peered over her shoulder at Azula as if afraid that she would leave for days on end.

"Yes oneesan." The blonde-haired girl replied while the woman pulled her down into a chair under her right arm.

"You are just too cute." The brown-haired woman cooed while holding the blushing girl in her arms with the two of them sharing a large seat.

And with that the princess strode towards the door only to pause briefly as she turned to the two girls.

"Keep a close on my little tiger monkey Ty Lee. Make certain that she refrains from hopping about." Azula spoke while waving her hand before her face sighing heavily all the while.

"Uh…sure. I'll do that Azula." Ty Lee agreed while Elle gazed after Azula with a tender smile not even bothered that she was being dubbed a small animal.

"I'll be a good tiger monkey for Her Highness." Elle stated sweetly with her words earning her a small smirk from the woman in question.

And then the princess swiftly opened her door making certain to close it just as quickly behind her.

The sound of Azula striding down the hall was heard by both girls until her footfalls fading into the far-off distance.

"You encourage Azula far too much Elle." The brown-haired woman spoke softly in a chiding manner while peering down at the young girl in her arms.

"I don't mind oneesan. I have no complaints whatsoever. I love Azula-sama just the way she is." The blonde-haired girl admitted bashfully with her words producing a gentle smile from the acrobat.

"You're so sweet…that I just can't help…but snuggle you." Ty Lee cooed before smashing the red-faced girl into her pink blouse.

Elle wrapped her arms around the acrobat's bicep just like she did with Azula all the while laying her head against Ty Lee's chest.

"Snuggle time with my oneesan." The blonde-haired girl mumbled while the older girl giggled all the while holding her close.

"That's right." The brown-haired woman chirped while humming as she began to play with her braided hair.

The two sat together for a time only they heard the door opening about forty minutes later.

Elle speedily sat up beside Ty Lee who was also straightening herself to avoid angering Azula in front of prying eyes.

Then the door opened to reveal the princess striding in with her hands clasped behind her back with a palace healer following after her.

"This is the one Your Highness?" The palace physician pondered while turning inquisitively to the stoic woman for guidance.

The small blonde gazed up at the smiling acrobat and then to her caretaker for reassurance in the presence of the unfamiliar man.

The doctor wore long red robes and his hair was grayed while also wearing his hair in the traditional Fire Nation bun.

In his left hand he held onto a bag of medical tools.

"Yes, this is my personal servant in training. She requires a checkup for her peculiar breathing condition." Azula informed curtly while tapping her fingers along her folded biceps all the while striding forward.

"A breathing condition princess?" Sekim repeated while staring at the young girl with evident puzzlement in his eyes.

"I just said as much. After excess…activity her breathing becomes labored…this displeases me. Therefore, I demand you correct her ailment." The princess explained from where she stood over her timid handmaid with the acrobat holding a hand to her shoulder.

"Pardon me for questioning you princess…but why not just find another servant to attend to your needs? There is no shortage of servants. Why keep one on hand that cannot perform the work required of her?" The palace physician questioned with his clinical gaze now peering down at the young girl while her shoulders slumped in panic over his cold query.

Elle's distraught amber eyes flickered up at Ty Lee's now angered countenance before turning to peer up at the princess for reassurance.

She had but to glance up at her master for an instant and all of her worries began to wash away.

The princess's merciless narrowing of her golden eyes said it all and more.

Azula's glare was so intimidating that Sekim began to sweat profusely under her imposing stare.

"I like this one. Despite her…condition the work she performs is impeccable. The girl is the most devoted servant that I have ever had. And I will not accept a replacement. Now treat the girl!" The princess snapped with her voice cutting through the air like a flaming whip while her callous glare never left the now trembling man's face.

The regal woman's rigid order earned her a shy smile from Elle and a grin of approval from Ty Lee.

"O-of course Y-Your Highness. Forgive me." Sekim stammered while speedily stepping past the tall woman all the while feeling her icy eyes following his every move.

It was completely baffling to witness the cruel Princess Azula demand her handmaid receive treatment.

"Get up Ty Lee." Azula commanded while staring down at her friend with a pointed look while the other woman frowned once more.

"But Azula…she's scared…" Ty Lee protested while gesturing to Elle's fretful face only for the princess to glance over her over with a scowl.

"Whatever. Just don't get in the way." The princess grunted while waving the healer forward as he knelt before her young admirer's sweating face.

Several minutes later Elle sat beside Ty Lee while Sekim checked her breathing with a strange metal instrument.

His bag of equipment sat on the floor beside him while Azula stood supervising the whole affair.

"I do indeed hear a strain on her breathing. It's faint but it's there. As for the cause…that will require further investigation if Your Highness wishes to pursue the matter." The palace physician explained while the princess peered down at him rolling her eyes at his turned back.

"Do whatever you must. I will finance the matter personally…cost is not an object. Not for this one." The princess spoke while staring down at Elle with the girl peering up at her with a grateful smile.

Once more Sekim glanced up at Azula with a flicker of surprise in his eyes but he simply nodded all the same while returning to examining the nervous girl.

All along Ty Lee also gazed down at him with protective eyes already taking the role of big sister as a serious responsibility.

"May I ask why the girl is showing the signs of a hangover?" Sekim queried with a tone of disapproval while the acrobat gazed down at him finally rolling her eyes.

But Azula beat her to the punch.

"Ty Lee borrowed her for the evening…she has become quite taken with my servant…and against my advice…she gave her alcohol. I told her that the girl would get sick…but sadly she didn't listen." Azula remarked with a sigh while shaking her head down at the two girls'.

"Right. I should have listened to you Azula." Ty Lee spoke with a sigh of her own while Elle continued to slump under the man's judging stare.

It truly angered her that the poor girl was being glared at for simply doing what she and Azula had encouraged her to do.

"How irresponsible of you girl. You should have listened to Princess's Azula's orders. I must say…you are not a very reliable servant. Getting so drunk that you are unable to perform the functions of your job." The palace physician berated in a strict voice while the small blonde's head hung low with a look of shame in her innocent eyes.

"S-sumimasen…" Elle mumbled glumly while folding her hands in her lap with Sekim audibly scoffing in evident condemnation.

Once again unfortunately for the old man he was unaware just how fond both the princess and the acrobat had become of their young servant.

Both women were now glaring at him with the acrobat's glare being the most outspoken.

Azula stood with her arms folded making a noticeable effort to maintain an aura of detachment yet still staring down at the physician with cold golden eyes.

"Hey! Why don't you shut up and do your job! She did as I ordered her to do! It's my fault. Not hers! I suppose you've never had a hangover interfere with your job! My ass you haven't!" Ty Lee bellowed with anger in her voice that took Sekim aback while she sat glaring down at him with annoyance in her eyes.

The petite blonde peered up at her big sister with a twinge of pink on her cheeks while meeting the acrobat's reassuring eyes.

"The girl has been ordered to follow Ty Lee's absolute will in my absence. She did as Ty Lee bid. Now, if you berate my servant again. You will find your day will suddenly become…quite miserable." The princess announced in a glacial voice while peering down at the cowering man's back.

And just like that Elle was staring up at Azula as well with a broad smile that puzzled Sekim who was now nodding rapidly.

"U-understood p-princess." Sekim agreed all the while pondering just what made this particular servant so special to the princess and her noble friend.

"Good, very good. Now I couldn't help but notice her reaction to the alcohol was stronger than normal." Azula stated while gazing down at Elle with impatience in her eyes for the man to move on.

"W-well she may simply not have a tolerance for it. But m-more than likely there is an underlying medical factor that was simply…aggravated by the consumption of alcohol." The palace physician answered while glancing up at the princess's frigid countenance.

"I had already presumed as much. Once more, I require you to investigate every little aspect of the girl's health. Again…money is not an object. Is there something you can give her to expedite her recovery?" Azula declared over the man's shoulder all the while gazing down much like an observant mother.

"Tea would help with the nausea. There is a medicine I can prescribe…a leaf herb. It should get her back to work within a few hours." Sekim responded while Azula held a finger to her chin giving her nod of approval.

"Treat her bruises as well. I want her unmarred." The princess continued in a strict voice while peering down at her servant with domineering golden eyes.

"Y-yes princess. I shall apply a treatment that should resolve the bruises within several days." The palace physician assured while placing her instruments away while he began to apply a salve to the girl's cheeks.

About twenty minutes later Sekim was standing up while Elle sat with a cup of tea in her hand as she obediently sipping at it.

And the princess had been given instructions on how long she was to take the crushed-up herb with her meal.

The teenager had also been prescribed a medicine for her severe headache that was just now taking affect.

"One more thing…she uses this inhalant to stabilize her breathing. Is there something you could give that is similar?" Azula questioned while holding out her palm with the man staring down at the inhaler in surprise.

"I…have never seen a medical device like that before." Sekim muttered while giving the device a look over with curious golden eyes.

"I didn't expect that you would…but that is not relevant." The princess scoffed while staring at the older man with demanding eyes.

"T-there are medicines that can help with breathing yes. I will arrange a treatment plan straight away." The palace physician spoke while gazing back at the seated teenager with amazement in his eyes.

"Only the finest and most effective medicine will do for this one. I suggest you remember…that she is to receive only the highest quality of care. You will report only to me on the matter…understand?" Azula spoke with her palms behind her back while Sekim bowed nodding rapidly.

"Yes, I understand, Your Highness. I will work diligently on her case." Sekim stated while bowing at the waist before the looming woman.

"That will be all. You are dismissed." The princess concluded with a wave of her hand while turning away to gaze upon her pet seated alongside the protective acrobat.

"As you command Princess Azula." The palace physician answered before departing the study with his bag in hand.

All the while glancing back at the odd young girl for a final time before opening the door and closing it silently soon after.

"I don't like that man. He was rude to Elle." Ty Lee complained while snaking an arm around the petite girl once more before drawing the smiling girl into another hug.

"If there is a repeat of it…I will have him replaced." Azula commented while still standing over the two with her stern eyes peering down at the timid girl.

"S-sumimasen for inconveniencing you Azula-sama." Elle spoke meekly with her eyes remaining fixated upon her tea while the regal woman shook her head.

"You are a bothersome little tiger monkey…but not one that I dislike." The princess remarked with a lazy shrug of her shoulders while frowning over her pet's downcast mood.

"Azula…she's not a tiger monkey." The brown-haired woman scolded mildly only to smile when the princess reached down to tenderly pat the girl's head.

"This loyal servant will strive to be the best tiger monkey she can be!" The blonde-haired girl chirped with returning cheer while her words earned her a smirk from her master.

"Such a good pet…isn't she Ty Lee?" Azula purred with her hand running through the blushing girl's hair all the while enjoying Ty Lee's groan of aggravation.

"She's not a pet Azula!" Ty Lee exclaimed while playfully slapping Azula's arm only for the monarch to smirk down at her as well.

"But oneesan…I am. Azula-sama wishes for me to be her good girl…and I won't ever be anything less than the best girl that I can be for Her Highness." Elle insisted while drinking her tea with a smile as leaned into Azula's petting hand.

"…As long as Azula makes you happy Elle…" The brown-haired woman sighed while the princess finally removed her palm from the young girl's head.

"That is what I like to hear…Elle. I have a reward for you. Several rewards actually." The princess spoke with a finger underneath her smiling chin while staring down at the overjoyed girl.

"S-several rewards for me?" The blonde-haired girl stuttered out cutely while both highborn women observed her fondly.

"Hm. Indeed servant." Azula stated before striding away while Elle's childish eyes glistened in excitement all the while following her every move.

Ty Lee couldn't help but grin while watching Elle peek after Azula with her eyes sparkling in innocent wonder.

The sweet girl adored Azula so much that her excitement was more due to hearing that she pleased the princess than the reward itself.

Then Azula seated herself upon her throne once more before reaching for a small box and opening it in a purposefully slow manner.

All the while Ty Lee giggled as she peered down at Elle to see that the girl had the most adorable expression on her face.

"Come here Elle." The princess announced with a snap of her fingers while reclining in her throne with her lips curling into a refined smile.

"Y-yes Azula-sama!" Elle exclaimed while her big sister observed her hopping to her feet with her tea in hand before scurrying over.

"Walk slowly! You need to finish that tea." Azula barked while pointing a dominant finger at her carefree pet with her words instantly slowing Elle's gait.

"As Her Highness says. Always as my princess charming commands." The blonde-haired girl chimed with an expression of warmth in her eyes while proceeding over in a more careful manner.

"Now put down your tea. Just for a moment." The princess instructed in a micromanaging manner that had the acrobat smiling.

There was no doubt that Azula enjoyed dominating Elle…but there was also no doubt that her leader truly cared for their young friend.

"Yes princess." Elle answered as she did so before facing Azula just as she bent over in a respectful bow at the waist.

Azula smiled with a finger touching her lip while she surveyed her pet bowing before her with her hands at her sides.

And her young face gazing downward with her eyes closed as she smiled softly.

"Mhm. She's very respectful. Wouldn't you agree Ty Lee? I approve of this one." The princess spoke while leaning forward just as she patted the blushing girl's head with her right hand.

"Yes, she is Azula. I have never met anyone as courteous as Elle. She's a real sweetheart…" The brown-haired woman agreed with an expression of fondness in her cheerful eyes.

She couldn't help but giggle softly while watching Elle practically swell in pride with a proud smile after hearing Azula's words.

"I-I will never be discourteous to you Azula-sama. I endeavor to make you smile." The blonde-haired girl piped up with a sunny smile all the while puffing out her chest in an innocently prideful manner.

Azula's hand patted Elle's head once more while she gazed down at the young girl with her crimson lips twitching in a pleased manner.

"Hm. Good girl Elle. So good. I like to be pleased…and no one pleases me more than you. I will not allow it to be said that Princess's Azula's good girl goes unrewarded." Azula purred in a silken voice that was making young Elle blush madly while reaching into the mysterious box upon her desk.

"Wow Azula…I've never heard you refer to anyone as your good girl before." Ty Lee stated with a soft smile while gazing at her little sister's joyous face.

"I am Princess Azula's good girl!" Elle cheered while laughing happily under the princess's petting hand all the while Azula gazed down at her with a fond smirk on her red lips.

"That you are. This…is for your good behavior today. You brought my breakfast twenty minutes early…even when you didn't feel good." The princess remarked in a satisfied voice while holding out her hand before the girl's face with a small item wrapped in white paper.

The acrobat was astonished by the princess's declaration, it was no wonder why Azula liked Elle so much.

She went above and beyond what any servant would do just to make Azula happy…it was so sweet!

The small blonde opened her amber eyes to find herself gazing at a wrapped maple praline!

"A maple praline! I love pralines Azula-sama!" The blonde-haired girl squealed with her little eyes sparkling while she watched her princess set the treat down beside her tea cup.

"I know you do. I ordered an entire stock of them. For every day that you please me, you may have one praline." Azula spoke with her lips curving into a gratified smirk while she watched Elle's childish eyes zone in on the treat with an even greater eagerness to please.

"E-every day?" Elle stammered out bashfully as she twiddled her thumbs happily while all the while remaining in her courteous bow.

"Every day." The princess responded while folding her legs gracefully upon her throne all the while peering back at her pure hearted pet's sunny countenance.

"May…I have it now Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl pondered with her eyes peering at the praline just as her belly began to growl.

All the while she listened to her big sister's gentle laughter with her blush growing even greater under all of the constant attention that she was receiving.

"I suppose so. I wouldn't normally give you a praline for breakfast…but you've been good. Just…eat it slowly…I don't need you throwing up on us." Azula stated while turning to watch her handmaid gleefully reach for her snack.

"Wait! She hasn't eaten yet Azula?" The brown-haired woman repeated in a shocked voice while her friend shook her head.

"No Ty Lee. She didn't feel well enough to eat this morning. Only I ate." The princess answered with her hardened gaze observing the girl smile while unwrapping her candy.

"A-arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama. I…wouldn't want to be anywhere else." Elle murmured with a radiant visage while peering at her reclining master's sighing face.

"I am aware servant. Here is your second reward…" Azula trailed off while withdrawing her hand from the box once more before setting down a large sack that loudly clanged upon hitting the tabletop.

The acrobat's eyes nearly fell out of her head as she gaped at the size of the bag of gold that the princess was offering their young friend.

Well beyond…the normal servant's pay!

It wasn't like Azula to handle a servant's pay to begin with, such a trivial task was handled by someone far below her in status.

"Um…may I ask what is in that bag Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl pondered naively while taking a small bite of her treat with a joyful smile about her.

"Your pay. Silly girl." The princess snorted with her fist resting against her cheek while she smirked back at her stunned handmaid.

"I-I really get paid?" Elle blurted in a voice of disbelief while Azula gazed back at her with a now deadpan stare.

"Of course, you get paid girl. Servants get paid! What did you think? That you were a slave?" Azula inquired with amusement lacing her voice while she watched Elle poke at the sack with awe in her little eyes.

"Oneesan Mai told me the other day that I got paid…but I wasn't certain because I didn't hear it from you master." The blonde-haired girl spoke timidly while smiling innocently at her now taken aback master.

"You really thought that I wasn't going to pay you? You truly are a naïve little thing…" The princess sighed while lazily twirling a lock of her hair with her long fingertip.

"Yes, little sister, Mai and Azula are correct you do get paid." The brown-haired woman commented with a rising smile while gazing at the astonished girl's face.

She was wise enough to know that it would be foolish to comment on how generous Azula was being with Elle.

Doing so would put Elle at risk to lose these privileges just as fast as they began.

"W-wow all of this for me? I didn't even know that servants got paid…I thought our pay was a roof over our heads and the joy of serving you Azula-sama." Elle admitted as she held a finger to her chin with her treat in her other hand.

Ty Lee almost fell out of her chair when she heard that adorably naïve admission.

She could only hold a hand to her face sighing heavily while peering out of her fingers at Azula's wolfish grin that had now appeared on the princess's smug face.

"Hm. What an adorable little pet you are. Just too precious." Azula purred as she shifted her bottom while leaning forward to pat Elle's head with her action causing the small girl to flush sweetly.

"I-I am Azula-sama's favorite girl." The blonde-haired girl stammered from underneath the monarch's petting hand with a shy smile on her lips.

"Well Azula…at least she's happy…" The brown-haired woman trailed off while watching the princess treat the young girl just like a prized pet.

"Mhm. You are…all mine." The princess cooed while exhaling over the quivering girl's face with her lips curving into a predatory smile.

"O-ooh Azula-sama…you enrapture me with every word that you speak." Elle gushed with her hand on her cheek while Azula's palm slid down the side of her face.

Ty Lee glanced away with a blush on her own cheeks while watching from the corner of her eye a bit taken aback by Azula's rising sensual interest in the girl.

"I shall continue to enrapture you. I will continue to dominate you…here you have flowed and now you flow no more. I am never going to let you go. As I told you last night…it's far too late to run away now…" Azula whispered in a voice of absolute domination while breathing on the trembling girl's neck.

"Why…would I ever run from a life like this? P-please keep me…forevermore." The blonde-haired girl pleaded in a passionate voice while domineering golden eyes pierced her very being.

"Don't worry your little mind over leaving…because you belong to me!" The princess hissed in a powerful voice while grasping her pet by her face in a dominant hand.

"I-I belong to Princess…Azula-" Elle agreed with an adorable stutter before freezing up when she was pulled forward.

"You're damn right you do girl." Azula snarled before pulling Elle into her lap all the while Ty Lee gazed on red-faced just as she crushed her pet in yet another kiss.

The princess held the paralyzed handmaid in her arms while staring down at the gasping teenager's overjoyed little face.

All the while cupping her bruised cheek in her hands with her hot breath exhaling in Elle's awestruck face.

The timid girl began to nervously kiss her master back all the while trembling in fear of her inexperience showing in the face of such a marvelous woman.

But the regal princess didn't seem to mind that she barely knew how to kiss.

If anything, it pleased Azula greatly that Elle was hers to shape and mold.

And just as quickly as it had begun it ended with the princess releasing the young handmaid from her kiss with a smug smirk adorning her confident lips.

"Did that…make you feel better?" The princess purred once more with the gasping girl falling into her arms while she gazed down at her victoriously.

"O-oh my…" The blonde-haired girl murmured in a lovesick voice while shivering in the princess's strong arms.

"That…was your third reward." Azula cooed while breathing against Elle's neck all the while stroking her face like a precious kitten.

"I-I think my brain is shutting down." Elle confessed adorably while listening to Azula chuckle arrogantly in her ear.

"A-Azula she's only thirteen! P-please don't give the poor girl a heart attack." Ty Lee spoke up from the corner of the room while gazing at her leader with stunned eyes.

"You hear that Ty Lee? My charm is so powerful that it shuts her brain down. Young girl's fall head over heels just to have the privilege of serving me breakfast." The princess boasted in a supremely haughty voice while holding her submissive pet in her lap.

"You're really letting this go to your head Azula…" The brown-haired woman trailed off with a sigh while observing the scene smiling even so.

"Hm? Are you still with us my pet? Oh, you are? I was just checking." Azula taunted while peering down at Elle's reddened face with smug golden eyes.

"D-does this m-mean that I am y-your girl?" The blonde-haired girl requested with a lovable stammer while the regal woman rolled her eyes above her.

"Aww!" Ty Lee squealed in a gush while she smiled at the two.

"I should think that would have been obvious. Since you can't see my face…I should tell you that I am rolling my eyes." The princess sighed while trailing her fingers through her young admirer's hair all the while holding her close.

"I-I am Azula-sama's…girl." Elle spoke with an overjoyed voice all the while leaning into the woman's powerful arms.

"Humph. Did you really think I would be so generous if you weren't? You are indeed…my girl." Azula purred just as she held the back of Elle's head against her breasts all the while petting her handmaid in a possessive manner.

"Azula…I am truly happy for you and Elle…but…you will take her age into consideration…won't you?" The brown-haired woman pondered only to flinch not a moment later when the princess turned to scowl in her direction whilst petting the stunned blonde's head.

"I am offended you would even ask! What sort of woman do you take me for?" The princess snapped while glaring at her childhood friend with the small girl relaxing in her lap.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Ty Lee replied in a sigh when the spoiled woman huffed in offense.

"Can you believe the way my own subordinates speak of me Elle?" Azula questioned with a smooth voice while peering down at Elle's still shocked face with amused eyes.

The small blonde then blinked slowly as if her brain had only just now turned on.

"That's not true oneesan. Azula-sama is not a selfish person at all. She is very considerate." The blonde-haired girl spoke sweetly with her big sister gazing back at her with her nose scrunched up in disagreement.

"You are so cute dear…just too sweet." The brown-haired woman stated with a smile while shaking her head.

"Hm…at least someone is loyal around here. To answer your question…Ty Lee. Yes, I have factored her age into consideration." The princess remarked while staring down into her handmaid's enraptured eyes with a pleased smile.

"Well…that's good." Ty Lee responded though her voice still reflected her uncertainty.

"Listen well Elle. You are my girl. But I will not have it said that Princess Azula is without grace. Which is why we will continue to get to know one another. Are you following me so far? Good." Azula spoke smugly while Elle gazed up at her nodding in a numb spellbound trance.

"G-get to know each other." Elle repeated with a sunny smile while the regal woman nodded.

"That's right. While I would love to just shove your face between my legs…I will…wait. I know. Such is the sacrifice that I must bear." The princess announced while brushing her bangs from her eyes in a captivating manner with a conceited smile on her red lips.

"A-Azula!" The brown-haired woman cried out with a flush while sinking back in her seat.

"S-shove my face between your legs? I-is that something we'll do together Azula-sama?" The blonde-haired girl asked naively with a blush while the older girl grinned wolfishly over her shoulder.

"Such an innocent little thing. Isn't she Ty Lee?" Azula boasted with a smirk while gazing back at her sputtering friend.

"P-please go e-easy on her Azula." Ty Lee stuttered while listening to her friend chuckle in an arrogant manner while gazing down at Elle.

"Over the next few months, we will keep our relations a secret between us. Under no circumstances can my father know that we are dating.” The princess stated with a sigh while the small blonde peered up at her wide eyed.

As was the acrobat who could only listen in awe.

“D-dating princess?” Elle inquired with her heart speeding up so wonderfully as she leaned into her master's soft breasts.

“Yes, Elle. Dating. You will remain as my girlfriend…until you are sixteen. Then…if all has gone well. I shall marry you." Azula explained with a gratified voice while staring down at her adorable pet with dominant golden eyes.

"M-marry me…when I am sixteen?" The blonde-haired girl spoke in a transfixed voice while a radiant smile began to spread like wildfire across her cheeks.

All the while Ty Lee silently smiled as widely as can be listening to Azula's surprisingly touching declaration.

Not only was she stunned that Azula was considering possibly marrying Elle, she was just as astonished that her friend was willing to wait over two years for the girl to become of age.

"Mhm. That's right. I won't allow it to be said that I took advantage of you. Not in that manner…anyhow." The princess commented with her confident gaze never leaving her pet's overjoyed face.

Elle sank into the princess's arms with an expression of serenity in her innocent eyes all the while staring up at the powerful woman's entrancing gaze.

“In private over these next two years we will date one another…but in public you shall continue to serve me as my handmaid. I am royalty after all. And it seems only fitting that you do.” Azula declared with smugness lacing her voice while running her fingers through her admirer's hair.

The young girl could only nod in a spellbound manner finding that she was at a loss for words.

"I can already tell that you'll be a demanding girlfriend Azula. I am not sure if I should be happy for her or pity her." Ty lee sighed yet she couldn’t help but smile all the while at the two girls seated together.

"Your training has only just begun…Elle. I hope you can handle pleasing me." Azula whispered in Elle's quivering ear with a look of hunger in her callous eyes.

"I…can handle anything to be yours…Azula-sama. Y-you are my princess charming." Elle murmured with a bright smile while a joyful tear streamed down her cheek.

"I'll settle for happy." The brown-haired woman stated with a tear of her own sliding down her face.

"I confide that I find such a title pleasing…but I do not approve of your tears. If you shed another tear…I will punish you!" The princess barked with her eyes narrowing in a terrifying glare while the blonde nodded with a blush on her cheeks.

"Azula…" Ty Lee trailed off while she sweatdropped with a finger wiping at her eye.

"Y-yes Azula-sama…as you say. Always as Her Highness commands." The blonde-haired girl agreed while the princess smiled once more while reaching for her tea cup.

"Finish your tea. It is getting cold." Azula commanded in her usual rigid voice while Elle accepted the cup with shaky hands.

"Yes." Elle spoke with a sunny countenance while sipping at the tea with peaceful amber eyes gazing ahead.

"If you are feeling well enough to make the walk after that…I want you to go to your chamber. Your new chamber…I made…a few changes to your arrangements. Fret not…all of your personal belongings are as is. If you find the changes satisfactory…let me know. If there is anything else that you need…let me know…as well." The princess purred while brushing her fingers through the girl's hair once again.

"Wakarimashita …Azula-sama!" The blonde-haired girl cheered while laughing sweetly with her spirits now returning in full.

She still felt shaky and her head still hurt…but Azula-sama was somehow making her feel as if that didn't matter.

"Hm. Now that…is what I like to see. I prefer you…smiling." Azula confessed while staring down at Elle's serene face with a trace of affection in her eyes.

"T-thank you…for all of this Azula-sama. I promise you…that I will be the best girl for you that I can be. I am your good girl." Elle declared joyfully while still giggling as she leaned into the woman's alluring touch.

"Mhm. I can see that. One can only hope for your sake that you're feeling better by tonight…because I'll be putting your devotion to the test." The princess announced with a wolfish grin on her crimson lips while she pressed her face into the back of the gasping girl's head.

"T-to the test Azula? H-haven't you tested poor Elle enough?" The brown-haired woman inquired in a nervous voice while her friend chuckled smugly.

"Not in the least." Azula stated while exhaling into Elle's quivering neck with a dominant smirk on her sophisticated lips.

"W-what is my test tonight? How…will I please you master?" The blonde-haired girl pondered in a lovesick voice while shuddering pleasantly at the sensation of warm air tickling her neck.

"You were scheduled to wash my feet at one…I've rescheduled you for six on the dot. Tonight… I will be training you. You'll learn all about how you'll be washing my feet from now on…" Azula remarked in a sadistic voice while never even paying Ty Lee's scolding stare any mind.

"T-that doesn't sound very romantic Azula. I pity the girl once more." Ty Lee sighed while her spoiled friend waved off her words.

"Y-yes Azula-sama. Her Highness's feet must be washed!" Elle chirped with a worshipful smile about her that had Azula smirking even more by the minute.

The acrobat just cringed while musing that Elle doesn't seem to understand that Azula will continue to push work onto her just because she knows that the girl enjoys pleasing her.

"Hm. Such a good pet. I am very peculiar about the process…make sure that you get between the toes. I would be displeased if you didn't…" The princess purred with a malicious smile while still breathing into her pet's neck.

The sound of the acrobat coughing nervously once more filled the air.

"Get between the toes Azula? Your idea of romance is an odd one to say the least." The brown-haired woman remarked with another sigh.

That was when Elle took both women aback by setting her empty tea cup aside.

And then slipping her hand into her robes to withdraw her little diary complete with a small pen attached to the binding.

All the while Azula now gazed over Elle's shoulder only to find herself blinking in surprise when the small girl began to record a notation all the while chewing on her lip.

"Get…between Her Highness's toes." The blonde-haired girl mumbled thoughtfully while the princess glanced down at her with a grand smile of approval on her crimson lips.

"Good girl…so good. After my feet are washed…you can spend the next hour massaging my feet. As my girlfriend…I expect daily massages." Azula ordered while flipping her bangs from her eyes in an ever-pompous manner.

The more Ty Lee heard the more she flinched in renewed sympathy for the sweet girl.

"A good girlfriend…gives Azula-sama a massage every…day." Elle spoke in a soft voice while writing with a gentle smile on her lips.

"Oh…and do be certain that you bring me a proper bowl of cherries. I need something to snack on while you're busy with my feet. And there had best be no cherry pits!" The princess bellowed with her eyes narrowing playfully while delighting in her handmaid's lovable habit of recording her orders.

"A-Azula this is beginning to sound like slavery." Ty Lee stammered with her eyes widening in worry for her adoptive sister.

"Always…bring Azula-sama cherries before servicing Her Highness's feet…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off dutifully while smiling with her master peering over her shoulder.

"And…if you are a good girl…perhaps I'll even feed you cherries while you're down there." Azula sighed in a purposefully teasing voice while she smirked down at the blushing girl.

"How generous of you." The brown-haired woman snorted with her arms folded in slight disapproval.

"Yes Azula-sama. I will be a good girl for you." Elle agreed with a sunny voice before taking a bite out of her praline while Azula smiled in recognition of her good behavior.

"Of that I have no doubt my pet. And if you are really, really good. Perhaps…you can massage another part of my body afterward?" The princess suggested with a lazy demeanor about her while enjoying how the girl leaned into her chest.

"I-I would be honored to serve any part of your body Azula-sama. You have but to speak and I will follow the order through…no matter what…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off with a giggle as she sunk into the monarch sighing dreamily all the while.

"Perhaps…you could massage my backside? I bet you'd like that wouldn't you? How would you enjoy that view?" Azula taunted with a seductive smirk all the while clutching Elle into her breasts with a domineering gleam in her eyes.

"A-Azula! W-wait awhile before she starts playing with your ass!" Ty Lee cried out in a comically protective voice while Elle gazed on smiling brightly.

"If that is your wish master…I won't protest such a lovely task…" Elle agreed while swooning with a hand on her cheek.

"Marvelous. Just splendid. I look forward to our time together later." The princess spoke with a slightly softened voice while playing with her favorite servant's hair.

"As do I…Azula-sama." The blonde-haired girl mumbled while chewing on her treat once more with a truly relaxed countenance.

"Tell me though…are you feeling better now?" Azula questioned in a truly attentive voice with her playfulness giving way to concern.

"Much better…my head still hurts though…" Elle answered honestly while Azula gazed down at her with her lips frowning into a thin line.

"I will have you seen only by the best of the best. Worry not…if there is something wrong…I will mend it…" The princess assured with her palm brushing against the smaller girl's cheek.

"A-arigatou gozaimasu Azula-sama…" The blonde-haired girl trailed off timidly while leaning into the regal woman's shoulder.

"As I told you the other night…you are in capable hands." Azula sighed in a protective voice all the while scowling over her pet's mysterious health issues.

"…Azula-sama…my protector…" Elle whispered with a serene smile on her bashful lips while the princess hummed in agreement.

Ty Lee sat in the corner unable to resist the urge to smile while watching Azula and Elle bond. She could tell that they would be an odd couple…but cute all the same.

"There is no one more capable than me…for such a task. You belong to Princess Azula now. It is that simple." The princess purred with a strong hand stroking the small girl's cheek.

The small blonde hid in her shoulder while she mused that it couldn't hurt to hold her pet just this once.

She was hers now…

Her girl.

[ayma-nidiot]

The Ride - Sylvix fic Chapter 24

Also on AO3.

Trigger warning for alcohol/hangovers.

Chapter 24 – There Are No Friends In War

“Ah… I have awakened to the sight of Felix first thing in the morning.” Sylvain’s bliss was short-lived, however, as without warning he had a strong urge to run to the loo. “Urk… Felix, I gotta go do something!”

“Sigh…” Felix sat down as he sharpened the Sword of Zoltan. “Great. Nothing like getting ready for the march to Enbarr, sharpening my strongest sword, only to hear 19 people puking out their guts in the nearest bathroom.”

Sylvain had come back surprisingly quickly. “Did you say… march to Enbarr? Is that today?”

“Sylvain…”

“And I had to get drunk the night before! What will His Highness say-”

“SYLVAIN!” Felix dragged his fiancé back to the bed, but not too roughly.

“What?”

“Relax! We don’t start marching for another two weeks.” Felix spoke as he eased Sylvain onto his back. “You’re going to spend today recovering from your hangover.”

“I guess I don’t mind being sick if you’re the one taking care of me. You’re playing the part of housewife very well already.”

“Gee. Thanks.” Felix was terse as he wrung a wet towel over a bucket.

“And I can’t wait until we’re married so you can do this for me every day.”

Felix lightly whacked the redhead’s forehead with the towel. “You’re not going to get drunk like this ever again, and that’s final!”

“Okay, okay…” Sylvain sounded annoyed, but deep down he appreciated Felix’s level of concern. Wanting to change the direction of the conversation to something lighter, he said, “So, um… Who won the drinking contest? Do you know?”

“From what I hear, it was Annette. I only found out because Gilbert look very concerned in the dining hall this morning at breakfast. Miraculously, she didn’t even suffer a hint of a hangover this morning.”

“Such a cute girl can hold her alcohol well… Looks are deceiving, aren’t they?”

“Oh, and speaking of breakfast, you feeling well enough to eat?”

“Yeah. My stomachache is gone; I’m just a bit sweaty and I have a headache, is all.”

“Then here. Some sautéed pheasant and eggs.”

“It tastes… perfect.” Sylvain liked this dish so much that he took the rest of the plate from Felix and fed himself.

“Good.” Felix looked down to hide his blush. “Because I cooked it myself; Dedue taught me.”

“Well, I’m glad that Dedue is ‘associating with us’ more. I don’t want to hate him and I don’t want him to hate me either.” Sylvain put his empty dishes on the shelf nearby.

“Okay, that’s enough talk from you, hon.” Felix took these dishes and turned for the door. “Have a nice nap.”

“Hehe… He called me ‘hon!’” Sylvain giggled into the corner of his bed.

“Shut up! I’m going to go train.”

So spoke Felix as he exited Sylvain’s room that day. And the day after that. He found that long after Sylvain had fully recovered from his hangover, he enjoyed staying in the redhead’s room for the night. He noticed, too, the frequency of the soldiers’ visits to the cathedral as the decisive battles drew near. But he wasn’t too keen on praying to the goddess – in fact, he was hardly keen on anything except training and Sylvain.

Felix had started a walk to the training grounds, but as he passed the Goddess Tower, he heard a loud sneeze come from the top. Instinctively pointed his sword towards there, he threatened, “Demonic Beast, wait right there, so I can-”

“Whoa, there, cowboy!” the very much human voice sounded. “Gee, is that what my sneeze sounds like?”

“Sylvain? What are you doing up there?”

“Just waiting for you to pass by. Care to join me?”

Silent on his walk up the spiral stairs, Felix sheathed his sword. “So. Is something eating at you?”

“I’m just…”

“What? You still hungover?”

“Felix, I’m not that weak. Come on.” Sylvain walked back out to the balcony and stared at couples going to their bedrooms.

“Is it because we start our final march tomorrow?”

Sylvain gripped the balcony and looked towards the starry sky. “Just when Dedue stopped hating me… Just when I started to patch things up with my brother… Oh, goddess, I don’t want to die. Not after I’ve felt such strong camaraderie in this army.”

“Dummy.” Felix flicked Sylvain on the head.

“Excuse me?”

Felix wrapped his arms around Sylvain’s neck, and for once he had a tender look in his eyes. “You’re going to live, man. If only to get a taste of Mercedes’ wedding cake. If only to see the flowers Dedue has grown himself.”

“Felix…” Sylvain felt a tear roll down his left cheek, letting Felix wipe it.

“If only to become my duke.”

“I… beg your pardon?”

“I’ve just thought of something… If your brother is going to take House Gautier, then I figured… Well, maybe we can inherit Fraldarius.”

“I would love that, but-”

“If Dimitri has anything to say about it, I’ll tell him something a wise man once said: ‘suck it.’”

“And there are many poor, Crestless orphans out there… Even if it’s just one, I want to give them a loving home, free of war. You remember that little girl whose doll Dimitri mended all those years ago?”

“I remember you telling me about it, yeah.”

“I’ve heard that she and her infant sister lost their parents to Hubert not too long ago. They were just common citizens of Gautier, too.”

“You’re dumb as a brick on the surface, but you’re a kind man. Quite unlike myself. So yes, I will help take care of those kids, if they are willing.”

“I know I’m being suuuuper needy – and a little random - right now, but… Before the Battle at Gronder, when you were still fighting for the Alliance, I had a dream that we confessed to each other at the Goddess Tower. …Can we have our wedding here?”

“I actually had the same dream.” Felix happened to have the toy lance on his belt, and took it out. “With this, too. So yes again, Sylvain… Yes to everything.”

 It was just Sylvain’s luck he woke up late for the morning of the march. It was just Felix’s luck that thanks to his fiancé, they spent the night there at Goddess Tower. It was just Dimitri’s luck that Hubert decided to bring the fight to the streets of Enbarr in a surprise attack, even after one final attempt at parley with the emperor.

Sylvain, of course, didn’t let this apparent string of bad luck get him down. Not after what happened at Goddess Tower the week before. Trying to ease a bit of the tension, he asked Dimitri, “I heard that you tried to parley with the emperor. What did she say?”

As they approached the border of Enbarr, Dimitri responded, “She told me that she wants to get rid of the Church of Seiros and the Crest system in the name of the weak. She didn’t consider how her actions benefit only the strong, and how she is blind to the suffering of her people because of her ambitions. It was just then that I realized how different our ideals are. We’ll never see eye-to-eye, so we must settle our conflict in the ancient way – a battle to the death. I gave her back her dagger, too… I know that she’ll fight for what she believes in, and so should we.”

“Dimitri…”

“But if I have to fight my own stepsister to end the suffering of Fódlan’s people, then so be it.”

But you’re blind to your own suffering too.

Sylvain was no more eager to hear about Dimitri’s horrible family problems than he was to hear Hubert declare, “Hahaha… Well, if it isn’t the Saviour Prince, your hands stained red with blood. Why don’t we give him a royal welcome? Artillery, fire at will when the enemy is in range!”

“True, my hands are stained red with blood… But you and your emperor have the blood of innocent people – even many of your own citizens – on yours.” Dimitri, knowing full well that the emperor was within his grasp, gave the order to charge full speed.

Ingrid drove her pegasus forward, and though Dorothea managed to catch up so far, she suddenly halted, prompting Ingrid to ask, “Dorothea, what’s wrong? This isn’t the time to be spacing out!”

“It’s… Petra…” Sure enough, Dorothea saw her old friend when Petra cut down the five soldiers blocking her path.

“Dorothea…” Petra showed only this brief moment of weakness before saying, “Ferdinand is dead. Bernadetta is dead too. And you… They are dead because of your killing.”

“Petra, this is war, and Edie has gone mad!”

Petra ignored Dorothea’s reaction and simply walked forward. “This is for Adrestia… and for Brigid!”

“Aah!” Dorothea fell flat on her butt, but her hand was more than strong enough to draw the sigil for Agnea’s Arrow. “If it’s our destiny to kill each other, then…”

“I will be killing you!” Petra continued to charge, but a mountain of soldiers – Empire and Kingdom soldiers alike – impeded her.

“One of us has to die!” Dorothea declared as an enormous arrow of light ran from the sky, ripping through Petra’s body.

Unable to stand – and knowing her time was at an end – Petra lay prone on the ground. “Edelgard… I will not be keeping my promise… Give me forgiveness, please…”

Dorothea gritted her teeth, and after one last look at Petra, she ran ahead and summoned a barrage of Sagittae spells at her oncoming foes. She chanced upon Sylvain, who had defeated a circle of enemies but not without suffering a gash on his dominant arm. “Oh, Sylvain! Wait just a bit… I’ll patch that up for you.”

“Thank you!” Sylvain circled his arm around while the Opera Company Volunteers refreshed them again.

“Just think of it as my apology for being unable to help you at the Battle of Derdriu. Now, come!” Dorothea and Sylvain ran up the stairs together. “We’re almost at the gates of the palace!”

“And don’t forget that our main enemy on the way is-”

“I’ll cut a bloody path!”

Luna Λ found its way to Dorothea and Sylvain before they could find who cast it. Dorothea, of course, knew that voice well. “Hubert! Get out of the way!”

“A fat chance.” Hubert held another Luna Λ at the ready. “You and your brute of a prince are no match for Her Majesty!”

“Hubie, please… I don’t want to kill you too… Not after all the friends I’ve had to kill in the name of this war.”

“Friends? Ha! There are no ‘friends’ in war! It’s either serve your liege’s every wish or die!” Hubert flung the dark spell, intended for Dorothea, but hitting Sylvain instead.

“G-Gah…” As Sylvain’s legs took the hit, he fell on his hands and knees. “What’s the point… in living… if all you do is act as someone else’s puppet? You, who’s never shown kindness to others, wouldn’t understand… You, who would just kill innocent people because your ruthless emperor said so! It’s because of you that… that girl’s parents… are…”

“Hmm? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You sick fuck! Die!” Sylvain attempted to swing at Hubert’s legs from the floor, but the head of House Vestra stomped on his wrists, digging his heeled shoes into them. “Oooooww!”

“I live only for Her Majesty! It’s you who doesn’t understand how I feel! Not that you need to.”

“Dorothea…” Sylvain whispered as waggled his index finger, attempting to formulate a Seraphim spell. “While I’m distracting him, you’ve got a clear shot. I know you’ve got the strength in you for another Agnea’s Arrow.”

Felix was almost on the other end of the street and could only see a flick of Sylvain’s red hair. Still, he ran as fast as he could while readying a Thoron in his right hand. “Sylvain! You bastard Hubert, you’re done for!”

Dorothea formed another magic circle, nearly ready to unleash it.

“Dorothea! Come on, strike him down!”

“H-Hubie…” Dorothea began to cry as her magic circle flickered. “I… I can’t…”

“Hahaha… I suppose all you’re ever good for is singing, Dorothea! You’ll be singing your swan song now!”

Just then, a woman’s voice sounded from behind, shouting, “Burning Quake!”

Hubert didn’t even have to turn around to see the woman who attacked him – or the Lúin lance that pierced his chest. “G-Gah…”

“Hubie, forgive me!” Clenching her eyes shut, Dorothea sent the Agnea’s Arrow in Hubert’s direction, searing Hubert even more intensely than it did Petra.

“Glory… Glory to… Her Majesty…”

Felix didn’t arrive at the scene until after Hubert had already died. “So, you’ve killed the emperor’s lapdog? Ha!” He stuck the Sword of Zoltan into Hubert’s throat. “Good riddance!”

“Felix! That was unnecessary!” Sylvain scolded.

“What? I’m just making sure he’s dead. Plus, he’s the one who killed that girl’s parents, isn’t he? Weren’t you the one who called him a ‘sick fuck?’”

“But you don’t have to glorify killing someone so much! Please, my love… You’re better than this.”

Felix wouldn’t have dropped the matter for anyone else, and simply said while leaving for the palace, “Yeah, whatever. Come on, we have a clear path to the emperor!”

While mostly everyone else followed the others into Edelgard’s palace, Dorothea knelt at Hubert’s corpse to weep. “Hubie… It… didn’t have to be this way. Edie was so kind to me at the Officer’s Academy… and even you were, too.”

Dimitri chanced upon her as she mourned. “Dorothea, we need to get moving, while some of the army holds back the remaining forces. Come, up you get.”

“Yes, Your Highness…” With one final tearful goodbye, Dorothea spoke, “Farewell, Hubie.”

[softforcal]

please OH PLEASE continue the roommate|AU with golden boy Luke PLEASE

continuation of this post (x). Cal here, Ash here, Michael here. 

i got like 7 requests for this little nugget of happiness so here we go

Luke hemmings Roommate!AU

-this little munchkin

-you can’t sleep one night and you’re in the kitchen, Luke comes in and looks tired but wants to keep you company

-talking quietly as he listens to your day and what’s stressing you out and why you can’t sleep

-he looks like he’s going to pass out but refuses to leave you until you go to bed so you’re just like, “look, we can go lay down in my bed and if you fall asleep thats fine.”

-laughing to yourself when Luke wants to be the small spoon

-and he is soooo tired but he’s so warm and soon he’s asleep and you know you’ll be asleep soon too so you press a kiss to his cheek then drift off

-waking up in a tangle of limbs with this giant breadstick

-he’s so precious and golden in the mornings

-never really having fully appreciated it because you’ve never woken up next to him

-kinda just looking at him and he opens your eyes and blushes slightly

-he’s just so pretty and you can’t not kiss him

-your hands tangle in his hair as he pulls you to be straddling him

-pulling away and he just brushes your hair out of your face and you both just smile at each other, then he whispers something like “you’re so beautiful.”

-hiding your face against his chest and you’re both just so happy

-smiling until it hurts

-”so do you maybe wanna… like go on a date sometime?” “pick me up at six Hemmings?” “i’ll try not to be late.”

-realizing that although that was a cute line, since you live together and spend the whole day together anyways might as well just go out whenever

-he takes you to this little hole in the wall restaurant that has a super comfortable vibe

-”can i tell you something?” “of course Luke, you can tell me anything.” “you make me want to write sappy music.”

-heart. melted.

-”oh yeah? like what?” and he proceeds to pull out his phone and read you really cute, romantic lyrics

-”sorry if i’m making this weird, i mean we’re roommates so if you don’t feel the same way-” cutting him off with a kiss

-he’s that guy where you’re walking home and it begins to rain so he covers you with his jacket

-running to get out of the rain but before you can go up the stairs to the apartment he grabs you and spins you around and plants a kiss on you. you pull away, breathless and he just kinda grins sheepishly like “i’ve always wanted to do that with you.”

-grabbing his hand and going back to the apartment

-”you guys are soaked.” “don’t get water on the carpet.” “wait, are you two holding hands?! Luke! you dirty breadstick, you!”

-immediately being attacked with questions and Luke kind of shields you and walks you to your bedroom

-coming out later for food and Calum is kinda just like, “come on, you can tell me.” “Luke and i are trying it out okay?” “pff.” “what do you mean pffff?!” “i mean, that kids been in love with you since the day he first met you. you were everything his ex wasn’t and it made him realize he needed to get out of it. don’t tell him i told you.”

-so thats a bit of a shock

-Michael is pretty straight up about the whole thing, “you know, i’m glad its him. because at least he has the decency to be quiet if he’s in your room, unlike Ashton and Calum who are TOO LOUD!” “its not my fault the girls i bring home are verbally appreciative of my skills in bed.” “sure Mr ‘call me daddy.’”

-Luke tries so hard tho. like so hard. he tries to get Calum to show him how to cook

-bringing you breakfast in bed and you’re so shocked that he cooked but he can’t lie and ends up admitting the eggs he cooked we so bad Calum pushed him away from the stove before he could burn the apartment down

-”Thanks for the eggs Cal!” “don’t mention it Y/N.”

-Luke is king of mushy pet names

-”But babe i wanna cuddle!” “you look gorgeous princess.” “good morning sweetheart.” “there’s my Pretty Girl.” “aw baby, how did i ever get so lucky with you?”

-and he’s so big

-sometimes you think he forgets how big he is

-like this boy tried to shower with you once and then realized it was not going to work cuz his huge body makes him hog all the water

-or when he flops down on top of you when he’s tired

-getting to run your fingers through his hair

-braiding his hair. this is a serious kink of mine but only for Luke, i dont know

-he surprises you at work and leans over the counter to put a flower in your hair

-he’s so smiley and cute and angelic

-all your coworkers are just like “DAMN, Angel boy’s got game!”

-okay he’s just beautiful and if you are not taking pictures of him for artsy instagram posts then you are wrong. you’re wrong fam.

-wearing his clothes and they are soooo looooong on you

-throwing on one of his shirts in the morning and it goes past your knees

-and his jackets just dwarf you

-he’s king of soft kisses

-lazy kisses

-warm kisses

-kisses in the morning where sunlight through the window lights up his bedhead like a crown

-can someone give him a back massage?

-the guys have never seen him this relaxed before, they’re all blown away by all his happy smiles and giggles

-restful spa days where you paint each others nails and put on face masks

-being the most relaxed, laid back, cuddly couple ever

-he’s so happy to move out of Ashton’s room and Ashton is stoked about it, no more sleeping on the couch for Luke

-so much cuddling

-he does grabby hands,  ty to convince me otherwise

-needy boy just wants to be soft with someone

-the softest honey

-so many smiles

-”Luke i have to go to work.” “nooooo.” “Luke, let go of me i have to leave.” “goodbye kisses.”

-and he has such a beautiful voice

-so much singing together

-and him serenading the shit out of you

-him singing you a song that he wrote for you while playing guitar for your anniversary, or just when you have a bad day, and because its such a sweet song that always cheers you up, he sings it whenever you’re sad

-this cuddle muffin freaks out when you’re sad, he can’t stand it

-intertwining your fingers

-he tries so hard to cook for you because he wants to show you that he’s a good boyfriend and he has all these weird prerequisites like being able to cook

-you both freak out when you realize he can actually make decent boxed mac and cheese if he decided to follow the instructions

-”there’s my mac boy.”

-you guys are just so cute the others can’t help but smile when they see you together being all cute

-movie nights where Luke cuddles against you and doesn’t even watch the movie but he looks so happy and peaceful with his head in your lap that none of you guys are going to call him out for it

-when he lets his scruff grow out he loves rubbing it against your neck because you kinda hate it but you always end up laughing and giggling

-inside jokes that are special for the two of you

-his groans are angelic. like imagine being able to make this guy just come undone

-i feel like he’s the really passionate lover

-like he feels things so intensely because he’s a creative soul

-so its usually slow, with lots of grabbing and kissing and scrunching up his eyes (and nose) and just sweet sounds and sweet nothings

-he’s really into praise, giving and receiving

-face stroking 

-looking into your eyes

-laughing while kissing

-just being so at home with this sweet boy

-he’s just a sweet baby who needs love okay?!?!?

[monster-author-vd]

Hey! Could I please request a story about a trans man (who still has all original parts) who is captured by a tentacle monster and kept as a breeding cow?

Of coarse! Thanks for sending my first official request as well. Apologies for typos as I wrote this in my cellphone. I also combined this with another plot bunny I had wanted to write. I hope this is at least close to what you were looking for :)I also can't tag this in mobile, so, apologies there. ----He needed a vacation so badly. He'd been working his ass off at work and in college classes for so long that he'd been surprised when it was suddenly summer when he looked outside his window. Thankfully, that meant it was summer vacation, his job at the college was done along with your studies, and it was time to put that hard earned extra money to good use. So, it was no surprise that when the isolated lakeside cabin, that he'd managed to rent for an entire month for an absolute steal, you let out a sigh. This was going to be heavenly. He had a good feeling about this trip.His first order bussniuss was to strip out of his cloths, and currently-very-uncomfortable binder, and go for a refreshing swim. It was late afternoon already, but the heat was still unrelenting. He grabbed a towel and tossed it on the beach, not worried about anyone sneaking up on him.As he waded into the water he sighed. Perfect. Diving underwater he explored the lake bottom. Little fish were swimming about, rocks and sand, seaweed everywhere. He surfaced and dove again he saw the strangest peice of seaweed. It was long and deep green, but it appeared to be smooth to the touch and cilindrical. Then he thought he saw something more substantial then a fish move through the water. He surfaced, catching your breath before going under again. The strange peice of seaweed appeared to be gone. How strange.He shrugged it off and continued to enjoy himself. He moved to lay on his towel and relax under the sunset. However, a few minutes later, something wrapped around his leg. He sat up with a start, seeing a thick green tentecle, like the strange seaweed he had seen under the water, wrapping higher and higher around his leg. It took him a moment to process, the second one wrapping around his other ankle and beginning its way up his leg snapping him out of his stupor.He screamed and tried to kick the Tentecles off of himself. This did nothing to stop their journey up his legs to his exposed sex. He tried to pull them away, but no sooner had he tried then had two new Tentecles come and tied his hands above his head, effect effectively pinning him in place.He screamed again, but knew no one would hear him, there was no one around for over 100 miles in any direction. The owner of these Tentecles seemed to know this as well, as it did nothing to try and stop its noisy catch. More Tentecles came out of the lake, four more coming to massage and tease his body and breasts. Two of them taking great interest in playing with his nipples. He began to found himself inexplicably aroused. He gasped as one of the Tentecles from his legs plunged into his sex, pulsing as it pushed deeper and deeper with shallow thrusts, slowly making you accept its entire mass. He screamed from terror mixed with inexplicable pleasure. The tentecle currently steadily implaing him was at least as thick as his forearm. He didn't know if it was going to fit! He whimpered as it continued deeper, reaching his cervix and practically ignoring it, the thin and dexerious tip of the tentecle easily peircings through and allowing it to continue. What should have been pain instead caused blinding pleasure to shoot through him as the tentecle continued it's path through his body. It had to be the ooze that was coming from this creatures body, the logical part of his mind reasoned. He arches up, whimpering and shaking as another, smaller, tentecle started playing with his clit, flicking and stroking it in ways that made him see stars. When the tentecle bottomed out in your womb it began to pump back and fourth, fucking you unceremoniously as you screamed your pleasure to the wilds. You were on the edge of coming but couldn't, your vision spotting and starry as you cried, begging the monster currently using you as a cock sleeve for release. Finally, after what seemed like forever, one shoved down his open mouth and every single tentecle around him and touching him came, covering him in sticky blue-green cum. He would have choked from the tentecle down his throat, however, the sensation of the tentecle on his vagina bulging and putting gallons and gallons of cold sticky cum into his needy and fertile womb had him cumming so hard that his world went white, hearing cutting out as the only sensation he could process was pure pleasure. The tentecle in his throat pumped enough cum into his stomach to make it bulge out, before removing itself from his throat as quickly and unceremoniously as before. His eyes were glazed over as he finally came back to himself, seeing his stomach, now making him see at least 6 months preagnat. The Tentecles were still massaging their cum all over his body as he felt the one in his still-spasuming cunt pull out, and be almost instantly replaced by another. This one was thicker, at least twice the size of the other, mostly see through, and bulbous at the end. It shoved into him effortlessly, dispite the new size and stretch that should have broke him, he found himself moaning and shaking as his pleasure spiked again. The new tentecle bottomed out in his cum swollen room before he saw large white bulbs traveling down its length and towards him. He barly had time to process what they were before the first one was pushed into his needy hole. He bit his lip and whimpered. When he felt it pop into his cum filled womb, he lost it, crying out his pleasure once more. Yes. This felt right. He was a breeder. This was his true purpose. He didn't know how he hadn't seen this before. But as the eggs continued to fill his womb, expanding him more and more, he knew that this was where he belonged. He moved back aginst the ovipositor burried deep inside him, begging it for more. By the time it finished he looked overdue with twins. However the stretch was anything but painful. In fact, it was euphoric, the feeling of the eggs rubbing aginst his newly elasticized skin sent shivers of Pleasure through his entire body. After too short a time, in his opinion, he began to feel Popping in his swollen womb, and he got excited, his swollen breasts beginning to leak milk, which appeared to excite the Tentecles that had never stopped massaging them. They continued to massage them, encouraging them to leak and create more and more of the strange blue milk. He groaned as the ovipositor was quickly removed and something began to follow after, it felt like tons of smaller Tentecles all moving at once, fighting to make their way out of your body, fucking you backwards along the way. You bucked your hips into the air and gasped, drooling from the overhwmling pleasure as miniature tentecle monsters began to crawl out of your womb. You could see their Tentecles disfiguring your skin from within your womb as they all clambered for the exit. As they crawled out he came, and then you came again, it seemed like he couldn't stop cumming as his clutch was born. He barly even noticed as the newborns crawled up to his chest, filling themselves on his milk before dissapesring into the lake. As the last ones fell out he felt a feeling of true fightness and bliss flow through him. This was his calling. To be bread by his master and birth his children for the rest of his life. Something in the back of his mind seemed to praise him, making him feel perfect and good and still so turned on. As he was pulled back into the lake he didn't worry, knowing his master would keep him safe. He was a breeding cow for the tentecle monster now, after all. As he was stuck to the wall of an underwater cave with an air pocket, and the green tentecle was shoved into him again, he cried pit in pure glee, and still wanted more. He needed to give his master more. The monster seemed to hear its cows request and another green tentecle soon joined its mate, both of them fucking the human at different times, so there was always one fucking him as deeply as possible at all times. When they both came inside him, expanding him to new extremes with cum alone, he knew this was heaven. The ovipositor shoved in after the Tentecles and began to fill him once more. This time filling him more and more, as he begged his master for more eggs. As his stomach grew and grew, each egg making him realize his new purpose more he came just from the thoughts of pleasing his master. The ovipositor left and he felt the eggs start to crack as the cum activated them. He screamed "YES!" crying in joy. He would be the best breeding cow ever. -vd