#cocky college niall

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 4

Read Ding here | ~4.7k words

Warnings: angst, fluff

From me: Sorry for the delay. Honestly, might be for the best. I know this is a little shorter but I think it will help spread out some of the plot points I have planned for parts 5 and part 6. I think it might be a little rush but I promise hope it will be worth it.

Summary: Cupcake wants a proper date. Harry wants a Cupcake for dessert.

Harry was fresh out of college when he took out a loan and bought the gym. It was a steal, an investment, and exactly what he wanted to do. He didn’t have a lot of staff—in fact, Harry taught a lot of classes, cleaned the showers and toilets as much as possible. He got Niall and Louis to help as well. Once he was settled a little more, he got his college roommate, Mitch and his girlfriend Sarah to help as well. His own little family. Niall managed it most of the time and while he still liked to teach classes and train with Louis, he hired a few more staff members (and honestly? Even though he hired a few custodians, he didn’t mind cleaning the bathroom every now and again). His family was his life and he tried to maintain a proper balance which required a certain number of employees.

But adding in the sweet girl that dinged his car threw him for a bit of a loop. A good loop.

Louis was insistent he focus more on his training. Any time not spent teaching classes or going over the paperwork in his office was spent training for his big fight. He was going to be boxing a guy from a few towns over; someone also undefeated. It was being publicized as their own state’s match of the century. Harry didn’t care truthfully about it. He just wanted to remain undefeated. Harry was competitive and he would rather never box again than lose his undefeated record. The added bonus of Driven getting more publicity wasn’t a bad part of the deal either.

Truthfully, the part where he might win $100,000 was also a bigger influence on him than he was willing to let on. The fame of the fight had sponsors and publicity, and more good stuff for him than he wanted to believe he could have.

Harry wanted to give his niece a substantial chunk of money to kickstart her college fund. But even still, he would have plenty to give her and then he would consider, finally, purchasing a house—which seemed silly because he nearly lived at Driven and if he wasn’t at Driven, he was at his mum’s...or Gemma’s with the baby.

But that pretty girl with an apron and sprinkles had him thinking about all kinds of future things. Like a house with a fence. A garden that they could have picnics in during the summer with a dog that needed to be walked two times a day but didn’t mind lounging with them among the flowers while they read. A massive kitchen where she would bake cupcakes for their little ones when they had birthday parties and—

No, he just wanted to win.

Maybe if he had lost at some point in his career he would have felt differently. But the “0” in the loss column made him cocky. He was good, and he knew it. Harry was smiling at his phone, a picture of his sweet niece smiling for the camera while he went over the bills for the current month. There was a knock right outside his office.

“Hey,” Niall smirked. “Your class is about to begin.” Harry was dreading it. They had chatted a lot more and gotten a lot closer than they previously were, but the class made him irrationally angry. Maybe it was the space and just knowing why she was there, that had him so grumpy. “Thought you would want to see her,” Niall murmured when he didn’t respond and also looked like someone pissed in his cereal.

He sighed, putting the bills into a folder for later. He thought about taking them home and dealing with them while he watched a show before bed. Since he’d been teaching her self-defense moves, he found himself riled and angrier than normal—especially after her class. It made it difficult to focus on bills and his calendar when she was there feeling unsafe. “Course I want t’see her,” he mumbled.

Harry stepped out of his office and headed to the room with Louis. She and Louis stood close together speaking quietly, like two old friends. She was smiling brightly, looking adorable as ever. Her T-shirt was bright blue. It said A Pinch of Sprinkles across the back and was littered with sprinkles like rain over the design. Louis caught Harry’s eye and then tilted his head toward him. She turned to face him. It was like a reflex and her smile was so bright, Harry couldn’t help but feel better than he did when Niall alerted him about the class. He felt all the anxiety and frustration leave his body and he headed over to her.

“Hey, Cupcake,” he put a hand on her arm gently giving it a friendly squeeze. “How was your day?” He asked.

She smiled in return. “Good, relaxing. I went to visit my dad.”

He thought so. He may or may not have spent his lunch hour being creepy and noted that her car wasn’t in the parking lot near A Pinch of Sprinkles. Nor was it there when he drove by in the morning on his way to the gym...and if he ran his four-mile cardio workout outside rather than on the treadmill to see her car still wasn’t there right around the four o’clock shift change then who would really know?

“S’nice,” he smiled. “How is he?” He asked.

She hesitated ever so slightly that if Harry wasn’t so focused on her, he might not have noticed. But before he could ask more about it, she simply nodded. “Good,” she offered. Harry needed to remember to circle back to that when they were alone. He wanted to know more about her family and why she seemed so guarded at times.

Which reminded him of what he really wanted to talk to her about. “Hey, Cupcake, would you want to—”

“Alright, let’s get started everybody!”

Harry was looking forward to “accidentally” punching Louis tomorrow during his training session. He sighed. “Stay a minute after class?” Harry asked and headed toward the front of the room.

“Since this is the second to last class, we always offer to have a bit of a celebratory send off the final class if you are interested,” Louis said knowingly. Harry was looking at the floor, then picked the lint off his pants. The grumpiness he felt with Niall returned rapidly. There seemed to be a long pause while the group decided if they wanted to celebrate next week. “Oh, thank God, love,” Louis sighed causing everyone to laugh. “You don’t want Harry or I baking for the masses.”

“I can make cupcakes,” she promised with a giggle.

Harry looked up realizing she was offering her kindness to a bunch of strangers, bonded through their own traumas and the need to feel empowered because of it. His lips curled into a smile. Even though he was still a bit frustrated. It was kind of her to offer. He wasn’t surprised. Someone that worked with sugar that much had to be sweet.

“Can you make the chocolate chip ones?” Someone asked.

“The blueberry lemon ones are my favorite, it’s a shame they’re a summer flavor.”

“I can...” she laughed lightly, and Harry felt so warmed by the sound; all the frustration he felt melting off him. “I can make a list before we leave.”

Harry truly thought there was no one sweeter.

It killed him she was in this class learning to protect herself. Especially now that he knew why. But as mad as it made him, he was so happy to see her. Having her in the class was just more time he got to look at her and note how beautiful she was. Her strength, her resilience, all these qualities he instantly admired as he got to know her more and more. That first night where she dented Clay seemed like ages ago, not months. He was wound around her finger, and he didn’t care.

They went through the moves they learned the weeks prior and discussed more scenarios. Harry had Louis help her more when she needed it. Frankly, it was too hard for him to do it without getting irrationally angry. “You want t’make sure you’re continuing t’practice these moves even after the lessons end,” Harry told the group as their time was ending for the night.

“So, we should be fighting our significant others over the dishes?” Someone called from the back of the room. It caused everyone to laugh once more, and Harry chuckled.

“No, not what I would suggest,” he snickered and even though there were at least fifteen other people in the room, Harry could pick out her giggle among everyone else’s.

“We’ve discussed a lot of reflexive moves and how a lot of the fight back instincts that take over don’t always help you get away,” Louis continued. Harry’s face returned to its neutral position. Although if she was asked, it was one of the sourest expressions she saw on him. But she was intently listening to Louis repeat the spiel once more. “Remember that’s your goal: to get away and find help as quickly as you can and as safely as you can.”

Harry didn’t dare look at her.

*

She stood next to Sarah’s desk taking down orders for their celebration the next week. It was a long list. Harry wasn’t a baker nor the owner of a bakery, but he knew that if they came to her store, it would have cost a pretty penny to sell all that was listed on her slip of paper.

“I can pay for it,” Harry offered coming to stand in front of her.

“Oh God, no. Don’t you dare,” she smiled and shook her head. “You’ve made all of us feel so safe and so empowered. It’s the least I can do—besides, it’s almost blueberry lemon season so I need to practice anyway,” her shrug was casual as she crossed out different parts of her list and added tallies to the other parts. “Maeve and I can handle it. I usually end up giving the leftovers to a homeless shelter anyway, or the nearby nursing home.”

Harry wondered if she was magic. Made of flour and sugar herself that was dipped into all her treats at that bakery and decorated with a pinch of sprinkles. There was simply no one as sweet as her. He was certain.

She watched as Harry’s eyes softened around the edges as she spoke. It felt warm and nice to look at Harry so intensely. He was so handsome and so kind to her. No one had made her feel so safe in ages. Not even Louis who propped her hands and feet into their proper positions and told her how to execute a stomp to someone’s instep.

“Cupcake, do you want to—”

“I’m sorry, Harry, one second,” she held her hand up toward him and turned her attention to a girl from their class. “Did you say Jack?” She asked.

Harry tilted his head curiously but watched as the recognition on the girl’s face blinked in surprise. “Uh...yeah?” She held her phone out to show a picture. Harry watched as her whole body stiffened and she glanced away. “Why?”

She bit the inside of her lip. “Look, I don’t want to prevent you from having a nice time, but he tried to force me back to his place. I would feel horribly guilty if I didn’t tell you. Maybe it was just a me thing. But I think I would like to know ahead of time. He’s why I’m here, taking lessons,” she looked at her pleadingly. “One girl to another,” she offered. “That’s all I want to say. I’ll mind my business now.”

The girl looked back and forth at her then the phone curiously. Her friend was silent.

Harry was shaking again. His hands clenched into fists. He saw the picture of him. He tried to place him in her bakery the other day and couldn’t identify where he was. Harry stalked off toward the back room without another word to her or the other ladies.

His focus was on making his way for the punching bag as quickly as he could to release the stress and anger he felt. He didn’t get to hear the rest of the conversation, nor did he want to. He hoped that girl took her advice and didn’t go out with him. It would serve that sorry excuse for a man right, and of course, most importantly, keep her safe. Harry would lose his mind if he found out he hurt someone else the way he hurt his sweet sprinkle girl.

His breath was a series of uneven pants. Not the regulated breathing he practiced while he trained with Louis. His emotions and frustrations clouded his head taking over instinctively. When he finally ran out of breath with one final punch he stopped, held the punching bag, and rested his forehead against it trying to relax his breathing.

Softly, she cleared her throat. Harry blinked, his eyes opened and turned to the sound. “Sorry,” she whispered. He steadied the swaying bag and looked at her, his eyes intense and as focused on her as ever. “I know you...” she sighed. “I had to tell her.”

He nodded. “I know.”

She paused awkwardly standing in the doorway. “I’m okay,” she offered. “Actually... I’ve learned at least five ways to incapacitate you to get to the front and tell Sarah to call 911,” she smiled weakly hoping it would make him smile.

It didn’t.

Biting the inside of her lip, she felt a wave of anxiety come over her. He was too mad right now. She should have just left. “Do you want the raspberry filled?” He continued to stare at her. Unspeaking, unmoving. Her heart felt sad that he didn’t want to talk to her any longer. “Um... okay... I guess... I’ll see you around, then, Harry.”

It felt like he was holding his breath until that moment and then released it as if all the air in his lungs had been there since the day, he met her and whooshed out of him for a good thirty seconds. “Cupcake,” he murmured running a hand over his face. She turned back, stood far away from him as she could without being in the other room. “I’ve been trying t’ask you on a date all night—well, for days really. And... s’jus�� not the right time—never the right time. We keep getting pulled into other conversations. Or training or your timers for cookies. Then m’mad or m’tired or—”

“Yes,” she whispered.

Harry stopped speaking. This time he thought he had stopped breathing altogether. “Yes, what?” He asked.

“I would love to go on a date with you,” she answered. Her cheeks were pink—he could see how flushed she was by the concept.

“You would?”

“I’m glad you’ve been doing the repeating lately,” she smiled.

“Are you sure, Cupcake?” He ignored her joke. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable; and I know I’ve been a lot... Plus your last—”

She closed the space between the two of them and pressed her lips to his cheek. He tasted like salt from the sweat that poured over him throughout the day. He was in desperate need of a shower. “I would really like to go out with you, Harry,” she repeated softly. “Whenever you want.”

Harry swore his heart skipped a beat. “Yeah?”

She nodded, still smiling. “I would really like that,” she promised. Harry sighed with relief.

“Tomorrow? I’d like to take you t’dinner,” he offered.

She nodded. “I would also like that,” it was the happiest she ever felt in her whole life.

The guilt of it was overwhelming.

“Good night, kitten,” he cooed softly.

“Night, Harry,” she headed for the door again. Harry watched, smiling after her as she turned in the doorway. She leaned against it, her hand pressed to the frame, and she tilted her head against it. “You’re going to kiss me, right? After our proper date?”

Her smile was so pretty, Harry felt light-headed. “I hope so, Cupcake.”

*

Harry did kiss her.

In fact, he kissed her so much they didn’t even have dinner at the restaurant. He could hardly stand how pretty she looked he couldn’t leave her doorway when she opened it. She had spent the better part of an hour fixing her hair into a perfect style rather than the stringy, rainy mess he saw the day he met her. Or the way her hair was almost always up and out of her face to deal with baked goods. She put on extra makeup too. She felt beautiful—but Harry’s reaction made her feel... gorgeous.

He put a hand over his heart and smiled, stepping back a pace to take in how beautiful she looked. She laughed at his dramatics. “Wow,” he tapped his hand over his heart. “I thought y’were beautiful with the apron and sprinkles.” She laughed; her pretty cheeks turned pink. He put his hand against the top of the doorframe and leaned in toward her.  “M’not going t’make it through dinner, Cupcake,” he shook his head. “Can I kiss you now?” His eyes were soft.

“Now?” She whispered back.

He nodded his eyes focused on her lips. “Repeating again?”

“What about dinner?”

“I’ll take y’after.”

Honestly, she didn’t think there would be an after if they didn’t go now. Harry looked unbelievably good. He wore a pair of dress pants and she had only ever seen him in sweats and shorts. Those did things to her heart that she didn’t know the dress pants would do. His button down was tucked into his pants, and he looked like he was ready for an interview. He was so handsome.

“I’m pretty hungry now,” she told him, her eyes dancing flirtatiously.

“Me too,” he answered and leaned closer. His forehead rested against hers. She could feel the exhale of his breath against her skin. “May I kiss you, Cupcake?” He asked. She nodded breathlessly. He shook his head. Rested a hand on her waist and pulled her closer to him. “You have t’say it, kitten,” he encouraged softly. “M’not messing around with this,” he assured her. “I’ll give y’anything y’want, but y’have t’say it,” his voice was so gravelly and low she felt it in every inch of her nervous system. She shivered involuntarily and nodded again.

“Please kiss me,” she whispered so quietly he barely heard her.

But he did hear her. Harry would give her anything she wanted so he pressed his mouth over hers, and it felt like he was supposed to kiss her. The way her lips felt against his, the exhale of her breath against his skin. It all felt so perfect. His hands rested on her hips, and he tugged her closer to him, so she pressed snuggly against his body. Her hands came up to the sides of his neck, her fingertips curling to the back of his head and sliding into his hair.

“Your hair is so soft,” she whispered when they broke apart for air. Harry chuckled and kissed her again, his lips slotting between hers and he brought an arm around her back leaning toward her, so she tilted back just so slightly. “Can we go inside?” She whispered.

“Do you want me inside?” He asked against her lips.

She nodded quickly. “Very much.” Harry didn’t break from her lips to push her inside the doorway. She slipped out of her shoes; shoes Harry didn’t even get to look at because he was so distracted by how much he wanted to kiss her he couldn’t take in the rest of her and how pretty she looked. He took a moment now to note her dress, all black with some buttons and a tie sinched around her waist. It fell to just below her knee but left room through the slit for him to see part of her thigh.

She was stunning.

“God, Cupcake, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured went back to kissing her. His hands roamed over her waist making her insides turn to mush wherever he touched her. She shivered again letting her tongue run over his lower lip as he kissed her. He groaned into her mouth. Her hands held onto his belt loops, tugging him closer to her. She could feel the way their kiss was affecting him. It made her want more to feel his arousal.

“Can I...?” She swallowed pulling from his lips and her hand started for the front of his pants.

“Oh fuck,” he croaked.

“I...” she looked at him nervously. He made consent sound so sexy but she felt stupid for asking.

“Yes,” he nodded firmly. “Whatever y’want, Cupcake, m’all yours.”

For whatever reason she thought of Niall saying how Harry was whipped for her when they hardly knew each other. He called Harry her boyfriend and now she wanted to take his belt off and rip his pants off.

Was it too fast? She didn’t let Jack take her home and she knew him about as much as she knew Harry at the time. Was she overreacting? How could he ruin this moment even though...? How come—

“Cupcake?” Harry asked quickly. “Y’okay there, sweetheart?” He asked softly. She blinked in surprise, realizing she spaced out as her thoughts reeled. Harry was holding her face gently. “D’you want to stop?” His pants were unzipped and unbuttoned—she didn’t even realize she had done that. Her fingers tucked into his beltloops once more, ready to pull them down further. The Calvin Klein band poked out from his shirt and the shift of his pants falling lower on his hips. Harry was staring at her nervously. Her gaze was blank as she looked back at him; as if she was unsure of her own actions. “Kitten?” he repeated and removed his hands from her face. He tugged her fingers loose of his loops. “Can y’talk t’me please?” He asked, separating them a bit more. He pulled his pants back up, zipped and buttoned them. “You’re making me nervous, Cupcake...” he trailed off eyeing her uncertainly.

Her heart felt sad for him. He was so gentle, so nice, so careful. He steered her to the couch, putting space between the two of them. The only part of him that touched her was his knee bumping into hers. “Sorry,” she whispered, finally.

Relief rushed through him at the sound of her voice. “There’s nothing t’apologize for, Cupcake,” he promised reassuringly.

“But you’re—” Her eyes looked at the bulge against the zipper of his pants. He shrugged.

“S’not important.”

She disagreed strongly. That bulge nearly made her mouth water but as much as she needed her brain to focus on it, her mind had other ideas. “I just... need a minute,” she leaned back against the sofa and sighed. She stared at the ceiling, her hands covering her face. Harry was hot. He was so kind. His lips tasted like sunflower oil—perhaps it was his chapstick. He smelled so good and looked so good. It was unfair that someone from nearly a month ago could continue to ruin her date.

“You can have all the time in the world, Cupcake,” he continued to assure her so soothingly, it made her heart melt. “Did I do something—”

“No,” she shook her head and looked him straight in the eye. “You didn’t do anything,” she promised.

He sighed with relief and leaned back beside her and smiled. “Good,” he draped an arm along behind her head across the back of the couch and kissed her temple. “Take your time, Cupcake. M’not going anywhere.”

She swallowed hard, the lump in her throat trying to break her esophagus open wide. “He ruined it,” she whispered.

“Ruined what, sweetheart?” Harry’s voice was so soft. Like the way it felt to snuggle in bed on Christmas Eve when she was little. It was so comforting. It made her feel safe. She sniffled and turned her face away from where Harry was.

“Our first date.”

“No, he didn’t,” his voice was still soft, but the tone was firm. He was certain when she very much wasn’t.

“But I want to—”

“I know, Cupcake.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Do I want t’have sex with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met before we go to dinner?” He asked bluntly. “No, sounds like a terrible waste of m’time.”

She blushed, closed her eyes; still turned away from him. “I don’t know who this most ‘beautiful woman’ is you’re talking about. I just see a snively baby.”

He snorted. Gently he coaxed her to turn her around and look at him again. His expression was still gentle, and she was sure he wanted to be mad. She wondered what kind of self-control that took. Maybe it was the Oxytocin covering for him.

“Show me,” he murmured.

“Show you?” She repeated.

Harry smiled. “Practice.”

“Practice what—oh. Oh,” she looked at him in confusion. “You want me to practice my self-defense moves?”

“I like when y’repeat me,” his eyes were warm, smiley on their own.

“I’m wearing a dress.”

“Look, I could say m’dying t’know what’s under your dress if that will make y’feel better.”

“Harry!”

He pushed off the sofa and moved the coffee table toward the side of the room. He grabbed her hands pulling her up, so she was standing in front of him.

“Well, t’be really honest, Cupcake. You’re not going t’have much say in the matter of what you’re wearing if y’need t’use the moves,” he reminded her gently, he cupped the side of her face and looked into her eyes as if his life depended on it. She gulped in response. He was so intense. It made her forget every one of the moves she was supposed to practice. “C’mon, it’ll make you feel better...and me, honestly.”

“You?” She questioned.

He didn’t even comment that she repeated him. “Want t’know you’re safe, Cupcake,” he skimmed his thumb along her cheek. “Always.” She grabbed his hand against her cheek and smiled at him.

Then swiftly she pulled his arm behind his back and twisted it up. He chuckled peering at her over his shoulder. “Good. Again.”

*

After a while of practicing her moves, Harry ordered pizza. He took his jacket off and described a series of moves she could try that she hadn’t learned in the class. She took them seriously; the little pucker of her brow made her so adorable—Harry wanted to kiss her.

“Let me make brownies,” she offered heading to the kitchen and mixed the ingredients within minutes of opening her cabinets. It took maybe ten minutes and soon her place smelled like brownies. Once the pizza was delivered, she pulled out seltzers that Maeve left behind after a girls’ night in. She put on a reality show about baking that she watched two years ago when she was sick with the flu. “The cake challenge is my favorite part,” she told him.

Harry had his arm around her, her body slumped into his embrace, and she snuggled deeply against him. He was so happy to be curled up on the couch with her. It was like they had watched TV together for their whole lives. Had been spending date nights in for twenty years. It made him unbelievably at ease.

Eventually, without realizing, they fell asleep on the sofa. Harry woke up with a slight strain in his neck that he was certain Louis would be pissed about, but the sight of her sleeping beside him made him smile. He scooped her into his arms and carried her toward the bedroom. “Are you kidnapping me?” She yawned.

He chuckled, kissed her temple. “No, Cupcake. Putting you on the bed. Want you t’be comfortable. I’ll go back on the sofa.”

“You don’t want to sleep with me?” She pouted.

He chuckled. “I do,” he promised. “Do you want me to sleep with you?”

She nodded. “Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“No,” he shrugged. “Do you?”

She shook her head. “Do you want to stay here?”

“Always, Cupcake. Always.”

taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

@summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland

@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl

@michellekstyles @just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows

@hannah9921 @fangirl7060

ding: @ell0ra-br3kk3r

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[ziallslvr]

wRoNg: chapter one

warnings: swearing, lots of making out, other than that this is the tamest chapter.

“I dunno, Ed. I guess I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been in a big group, y’know?” Niall was pacing back and forth in his small dorm room, his roommate lying comfortably on his twin bed. He paid no mind to his stressed out roommate. Louis was good at minding his business.

The two had just met when they moved in, but they got along just fine. They had met on Instagram through a roommate finder page, and the rest is history. They also had a lot in common, including both being some sort of LGBT. Niall hadn’t quite figured it out yet.

“Yeah, I get it man. You gotta put yourself out there, didn’t Louis get bidded on too?” Ed replied after a quick pause. He was referring to the frat they had rushed for, and spoiler alert, they both got bidded on. Niall was chosen by the self-proclaimed “leader” of the group, Zayn? Niall wasn’t sure about the name. Louis got bidded on by Zayn’s presumed boyfriend. He didn’t know that name either. The two had concluded the night before that they solely got bidded on for being foreign, because Zayn and his boyfriend were too.

“Yeah, he did. I guess you’re right. We have to go prepare for our initiation soon. I’ll call you back, alright?” Ed said okay, and Niall quickly hung up before throwing his phone on his bed. He eyed Louis, who still hadn’t looked up from his phone. The only problem Louis had was clearly selective hearing.

“Hellooooo?” Louis snapped back up from his phone, setting it down next to him to focus his full attention on Niall.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” Louis had a cocky smirk plastered on his face. Some people would describe Louis as a handsome devil. Conceited, yet one of the prettiest guys you’ll ever meet.

“We need to leave soon. Did you forget about initiation?” mumbled Niall, clearly annoyed at Louis.

“Imitation isn’t until tomorrow. Tonight’s just our warm up. Plus, do you really want to go? You’re not a big drinker.” Niall didn’t know why Louis was being so flaky, but he ignored it. He wanted to go out tonight and break out of his shell. He had been at college for nearly a month and his only friend remained Louis.

“Maybe I want to tonight,” shrugged Niall, walking to his closet and pulling out a t-shirt. It was plain and white, but Niall didn’t want to wear something nice in case he did get plastered. Louis, on the other hand, was going all out with a tank top and probably the tightest skinny jeans in his collection.

“Whatever,” Louis picked up his phone and went back to endlessly scrolling, “If you get wasted, I’m not carrying you back.” Niall rolled his eyes before fixing his hair in the mirror, making sure he looked perfect for the night ahead of him. He was hoping he could find someone to take home, but that didn’t seem too promising. Back home, he only had one girlfriend. They promptly broke up once she found out Niall was going to America for his studies.

“Wasn’t going to ask you to,” Niall laid his head on the edge of Louis’ bed in a way to intimidate him into getting ready. Reaching a hand onto Louis’ leg, Niall tried his best to seem calm. Sometimes he did this just to mess with him. It was comical to see Louis get hard from it.

“Stop looking at me like that,” said Louis, clearly annoyed, “And you know I don’t like when you do that.”

“Do what?” Niall had a fake look of innocence on his face, and Louis hated every second of it. On rare occasions, he enjoyed when Niall would mess with him, but recently he has been disliking it more and more. It felt like he was a laughing stock to Niall, even if he knew that was not the truth.

“Touching my leg.” Louis got up off the bed, the blond’s hand falling in response. Niall huffed, sitting down in his desk chair to wait for Louis. He spun slightly in the chair

Louis didn’t need to do much, just fix his hair and throw on a pair of shoes. Shortly, he finished, and Niall rose up and grabbed his school ID.

“Do you have your ID?”

“Yup,” He said while directing his eyes to his pocket. Louis opened their dorm’s door, letting Niall go ahead first. It was a small gesture, but Niall appreciated it. It made him feel like a princess, in some weird, gender-bent way. Louis locked the door and followed the boy in front of him. You really could never be too careful on a college campus, especially one as big as their university.

The walk to the frat house was mostly silent, with only the night breeze and other party goers making noise. Niall was too nervous to even speak up, and Louis respected that he didn’t want to have a conversation.

“I’m so nervous,” whispered Niall as they approached the house. Music was already echoing outside and several drunk patrons were slowly leaving.

“Don’t be,” Louis soothed, grabbing Niall’s hand and squeezing it. They had a weird dynamic, but they had been helping each other a lot through their first semester.

Niall smiled and dragged them up to the house’s ‘bouncers.’ They were just the frat’s sophomores, but they were intimidating enough to scare off the weird people. Getting in went smoothly. The bouncers, Luke and Ashton, recognized them and didn’t even check their ID.

“Finally,” a voice said, making Niall jump in surprise. Louis stayed still, eyeing the boy talking to them carefully. It was Zayn, and his boyfriend that Niall still didn’t know the name of was behind him.

“Did we keep you waiting?” Louis grinned cockily. Niall sighed and let go of his roommate’s hand.

“We have to introduce our new pledges,” Zayn said, patting Niall on the back.

“Right,” the Irish boy spoke up, “Sorry we were late! Louis is just… bad at time management.”

“No problem, lad,” Zayn turned to his boyfriend and signaled him over, “This is my boyfriend, Harry. He’ll be partnered up with you Niall for initiation. Louis, you’ll be with me.”

“Perfect,” said Louis, quickly leaving Niall’s side and walking off with Zayn. The blond was scared to be left alone with Harry, but it couldn’t be that bad. They both seemed nice enough, considering their position.

“Niall Horan, right?” Harry set a hand on Niall’s shoulder in a comforting way. Niall nodded and smiled, goosebumps running up his spine.

“Why don’t we take this upstairs? So we can talk about initiation?” Niall didn’t say a word, instead walking up the stairs slowly behind Harry. Maybe he was just scared because Harry was an attractive guy, Niall thought, but that was just him trying to rationalize his behavior.

Now that he was thinking of it, Harry was one of the most gorgeous men he had ever seen. His curls laid perfectly on his head with a cute bandana wrapped around it. Not to mention, he was muscular and had tattoos. He was the whole package.

Harry had dragged Niall to one of the bedrooms that he could only assume was Harry and Zayn’s. There weren't many decorations, but by the clothes on the floor, his idea checked out.

“So, what do I need to do to prepare for tomorrow? I know frats doing hazing and stuff but I know you guys don’t,” rambled Niall, sitting down on the bed. Harry smirked, brushing past Niall and sitting next to him.

“Me and Zayn both have different ways of initiation,” said Harry, resting a hand on Niall’s leg, “And I hope you know if you want to be a part of this group, you’ll have to do this.”

“And what is that?” He gulped, staring down at his thighs to avoid any eye contact with Harry.

“It may sound stupid, but have you ever had sex with a guy before?” Hearing that question made Niall’s head flood with thoughts. Even though he knew he had some sort of interest with men, he had never really done anything with a guy. Sure, he messed around with Louis sometimes, but that was strictly platonic.

“No…? I had a girlfriend until I got here,” Niall tried his best not to sound judgemental, but what Harry was implying was, to put it lightly, insane.

“Shit, I forgot about that,” Harry didn’t dare to move his hand away from Niall, instead tightening his grip on his leg, “Well, I’m happy to be your first. If you’re okay with that, of course.”

“If that’s what gets me in…” Niall paused, debating if he should really go through with this, “I guess so.” He smiled softly, finally making eye contact with Harry. The latter smiled, leaning in and giving Niall a kiss on the cheek.

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go find Louis, yeah? He’s probably looking for you.” And with that, Niall left the room to go find Louis. That didn’t take long, he was waiting by the front door for him.

“We need to go,” Louis said with pleading eyes. Niall raised an eyebrow, but took Louis’ hand and walked outside. Fighting the incoming crowd, they finally made it away from the house.

“What’s wrong?” Niall asked, walking down the concrete sidewalk. Their dorm wasn’t too far, only about a ten minute walk, but they could cut it down to seven if they walked fast enough.

“What the hell did Harry ask you to do?” Louis was obviously in some sort of distress, his eyes looking wilder than Niall had ever seen before.

“Uh, depends. What’d Zayn ask you to do?” They both picked up their pace, seeing familiar buildings in the distance.

“Sex. That’s what he wants to do! I’ve never done anything like that before unless, you know, it’s with a girlfriend-, or boyfriend. The specifics don’t matter!”

“I guess that’s how their relationship works…”

“Wait,” Louis stopped in his tracks and turned to look Niall in the eyes, “Harry asked you the same thing?”

He slowly nodded. It was too embarrassing to say out loud.

“Did you say yes?” Niall let go of his hand and walked forward.

“Niall, tell me!” Louis sounded like he was begging at this point, desperation lingering, “If it makes you feel better… I did too.”

“Yeah, I did,” Niall was still speeding up, wanting any memory of Harry to leave. This can’t be real, Niall thought, this has to be a dream.

“Have you done anything with a guy before? I know you and Ellie we’re together for a long time.”

“Louis, we can talk about this when we get home. This isn’t a conversation to have in public.” Louis respected his wishes, grabbing his hand once again and matching Niall’s walking pace.

Louis rushed inside the moment they got back to their hall. Niall was basically humiliated, his face flushed a faint maroon. He really didn’t want to talk to his roommate about his sex life and personal preferences, but they were going through the same thing, and Niall thought they could help each other through this tough decision.

The elevator ride up to their floor was quite awkward, especially with how many girls and guys were in there with him. Their hands never left each other, though, it was oddly comforting. The elevator finally stopped on their floor, level six, and Louis led the way to their room.

“Finally,” said Louis, staring at the 0607 on the door. Sixth floor, room seven. Their untwined fingers parted.

“To answer your question, I haven’t. That’s why I’m so anxious about tomorrow,” said Niall, climbing up onto his bed, not bothering to change, “I haven’t even kissed a guy. Do you know how embarrassing that is?”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Louis laid his head on arms that were crossed on Niall’s bed, “You’ll do fine. I’m nervous too, not gonna lie, but I’m sure it’ll be fine. I really need to get into this thing. I want to have friends.”

“You’re going to have friends anyway,” spat Niall, “You made it on the soccer team. I have nothing. I have to do this.” Louis nodded slowly, climbing onto the bed. He seemed more at ease, Niall noticed, a jarring difference from his behavior before.

“You’re really likable, Niall, remember that. Your best friend from highschool still talks to you. Mine completely forgot about me.” Louis laid down next to him, wrapping his arms around Niall’s waist.

“Yeah,” He sniffled, “I guess you’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to try things out? Even if it means we’re getting involved in their weird open relationship thing.” He flipped himself over, staring at Louis. More importantly, staring at Louis�� lips.

“I knew you would agree. If you need any help, I’m here, okay? And I’ll always be here. You’re like, my best friend now,” Louis leaned in, giving Niall a quick kiss on the forehead. Thankfully, Niall wasn’t blushing as bad as he was before they made it up here.

“Yeah. Can I do something real quick?” The other shook his head to signal permission, and with that, Niall softly kissed Louis lips. The brunette put his hands on his cheek, pulling him in closer. Heating up, Louis intensified the kiss with a lick to Niall’s bottom lip. Niall let him in, accepting what was going to happen.

Louis parted the kiss, leaving the other painted with disappointment. He smirked, climbing on top of Niall, his knees resting next to his hips. His hand snuck his way up his shirt, pulling it up to reveal Niall’s stomach. Ignoring the gasp from the boy under him, Louis leaned down, peppering his stomach with kisses.

Louis bit down, sucking on the skin roughly. Niall groaned, feeling as flustered as ever. That didn’t stop Louis, though, and he continued his attack on his stomach. After what felt like forever, Louis stopped and parted with Niall’s torso.

Looking down, Louis smiled at his work and pecked Niall on his lips.

“We can practice with each other,” Louis said, “We’re going to need it if this is how the frat works.”

“Y-Yeah,” Niall said nervously, his face red and sweaty. He wasn’t hot, but the overwhelming atmosphere made him sweat.

“Are you okay? I didn’t take it too far, right?” Louis asked cautiously, making sure he didn’t cross any boundaries. Even if they were just roommates, he cherished the friendship they had, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

“No, you didn’t,” Niall leaned up to be face level with Louis, “I liked it. I’ll return the favor soon, okay?” He didn’t just like it, he loved it. Getting flustered was just something Niall was good at, and he wanted to save Louis from his worries.

“Don’t worry about it,” Louis kissed him once more before climbing off the bed and hopping into his. Niall frowned, feeling lonely the moment Louis got under his covers.

The rest of the night was pervaded with silence. Niall had gone to bed a little bit after the practicing, as getting that hot and bothered exhausted him. He didn’t even get to relieve himself, but that was okay. He still appreciated what Louis did.

Louis stayed up, unlike his roommate. Staring at the tiled ceiling, he thought about the initiation tomorrow night. Was Zayn really wanting him to do this? Just to get into a frat? It wasn’t anything he had ever before, but maybe frats were a lot different than what he heard back home.

Louis couldn’t lie to himself and say that the idea of having sex with Zayn was disgusting, because it wasn’t at all, but he barely knew the guy. Zayn was mysterious, leaving a lot for the imagination. He was nice enough to bid on him, and that’s where the association ended.

Before falling asleep, Louis glared at Niall’s sleeping body. He looked so at peace, so calm, and Louis couldn’t help but smile at the resting boy. Surely he had never seen anyone as cute as him in his life. It made his stomach flutter, but he chose to ignore that part. Far too late into the night to start overthinking.

“Goodnight, Niall,” whispered Louis, rolling over in bed and throwing the sheets over himself.

[justmeinatree]

Can you do something with a cocky Niall (tour niall, college niall, workplace niall, whatever you like) and a y/n who is resistant to his charms. Niall has to work at winning her over, constantly flirting/dirty talking and being very cocky and confident. And when he finally wins her over somehow, he goes fully dominant and even more cocky. He makes her undress him one piece of clothing at a time, and he makes her worship his muscles, and he makes her admit how much she's attracted to him. Then he has her get on her knees and beg for the chance to suck him off. And then when she's choking and gagging on him, he's laughing, being all patronizing and condescending, making her tell him how good he tastes and how big he is, etc. If you can't tell, tour niall really has me hot and bothered 😭

good morning lovely !! sorry i’ve been sitting on this for a little bit. i don’t know that i could really do this justice 😕 i’m not very good at writing cocky and i don’t typically write much in the realm of blowjobs. HOWEVER !! i never like leaving people high and dry ! have you read through @swiftmendeshoran ‘s writing lately ? if i’m not mistaken, she’s taking tour requests right now, and i just know she’d rock the hell outta something like this !!!

[ao3feed-zarry]

The Deal *Zarry Stylik AU

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4b8PQ1M

by Pandoorah1997

He’s about to make a deal with the college alpha bad boy…

Harry Styles has finally found someone who turns him on. But while he might be confident in every other area of his life, he’s carting around a full set of baggage when it comes to sex and seduction. If he wants to get his crush’s attention, she’ll have to step out of his comfort zone and make him take notice…even if it means tutoring the annoying alpha, childish, cocky captain of the hockey team in exchange for a pretend date.

…and it’s going to be oh so good

All Zayn Malik has ever wanted is to play professional hockey after graduation, but his plummeting GPA is threatening everything he’s worked so hard for. If helping a sarcastic omega brunette make another alpha jealous will help him secure his position on the team, he’s all for it. But when one unexpected kiss leads to the wildest sex of both their lives, it doesn’t take long for Zayn to realize that pretend isn’t going to cut it. Now he just has to convince Harry that the alpha he wants looks a lot like him.

Words: 1594, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Categories: M/M

Characters: Zayn Malik, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Louis Tomlinson, Liam Payne, Robin Twist, Anne Cox, Nick Grimshaw

Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles

Additional Tags: Alpha/Omega, Omega Verse, Alpha Zayn Malik, Omega Harry Styles, Alpha Louis Tomlinson, Alpha Liam Payne, Omega Niall Horan, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Past Rape/Non-con, Bottom Harry Styles, Top Zayn Malik

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/4b8PQ1M

[strawnarrries]

I need a part 2 to that cocky Niall one! It could be like they’re teasing each other in front of their friends or something and smut ensues? Please with cherry on top?

I made the original request for the Niall smut you just did. I wasn’t the one who requested part 2, though. Glad others liked it enough to ask for another part! Not sure what exactly that person asked for, but if you do a part 2, I’d recommend not suddenly making Niall cutesie and nice. Like he should stay cocky. Maybe he ignores y/n after their romp like all the other girls, so she confronts him about it, but then he somehow gets her on her knees for him again. Just as cocky and controlling.

Warning(s): sex and oral 

POV: 1st

Read part 1 here!!

Thank you both so much for requesting! I fr struggled with this one and idk why so I’m really sorry if it sucks! 

Also this isn’t proofread because imma lazy ass bitch

About a week had passed and I still couldn’t believe what I had done. It felt heavenly in the moment but now that’s it’s over, I regret everything. I still hated him but now I was one of his victims and for some reason, I wanted more. We hadn’t said a single word to each other since that day. Not that we were near each other 24/7, but he’s in my math class and I do see him occasionally roaming around the campus, yet we hadn’t spoken since. That’s why I’m upset and trying to get passed it because I know it was probably just a one-time thing. 

I hooked up with a couple guys to try and get Niall off my mind and see if maybe they could help me leave it in the past, but it didn’t work. Nobody could make me feel like he did. I always judged the girls who always hooked up with him but now I see why and I lowkey want to do it again.

I was meeting up with a group of friends today at Anna and Connor’s apartment. They invited a couple of us over for dinner. Anna and Connor were the lovebirds of our friend group. They moved into their first apartment together last year and have been stable and happy ever since. 

After getting dressed and putting on a little bit of makeup, I hopped into my car and began my quick journey to their house. Parking in front of their complex, I collected my belongings before making my way up the stairs to their home. I knocked on their front door and was greeted by a happy and enthusiastic Anna, “(Y/N), hi, how are you?“ 

“I’m good! How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long.” I teased because I literally saw her earlier today. 

“I know right.” she giggled and I stepped into her house, kicking off my shoes. 

The delicious smell of whatever they were making for dinner filled my nose. Their home looked absolutely beautiful, it was clean and gorgeously decorated.

“It looks beautiful in here. I’m so impressed with what you guys have done. You’re so mature for your age like I could never pull any of this off right now.” I giggled, my eyes scanning the room. 

“Awh, you’re too sweet.” she grinned as we both walked towards the living room where everyone was sitting and chatting. 

I said my hellos to everybody as I sat at the end of the couch next to Jackson. I rested my arm on the armrest and began engaging in the conversation they were having while dinner cooked in the oven. 

About half an hour later, there was a knock on the door. Anna stood up and made her way over to the door while we all continued to talk. My attention was taken away from the conversation when I heard Anna say, “Hey, Niall!" My heart dropped and the butterflies in my stomach began to erupt. Why was Niall here? Please tell me there’s another Niall on the campus that I don’t know about. I felt my palms begin to sweat as I heard the door close and I saw Anna and Niall walk into the room. We made eye-contact for a split second before he looked away, not even acknowledging that I was there. Niall sat down on a chair that Connor pulled over for him.

"Why didn’t you tell me he was gonna be here?” I scowled into Jackson’s ear.

“‘cause I knew you wouldn’t come if you knew he was coming.” he snapped back quietly. 

I guess he was right, but some part of me wanted to see him again. We all continued with our conversation, climbing from topic to topic. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Niall, admiring all his features. His pearly whites flashing every time he laughed his adorable laugh, his eyes crinkling up. His blue eyes sparkled against the lighting in the house. We hadn’t said a word to each other yet and it was lowkey bugging me. All of the sudden, the oven beeped, telling us that dinner was ready. Anna hopped up and headed towards the kitchen and getting the lasagna out of the oven. 

“Connor! Can you help me?” She called. 

“Yeah.” he called back, standing up and heading towards the kitchen to help his girlfriend with dinner. 

The rest of us carried on with our conversation while we waited for them to let us know when dinner was ready. A couple of minutes later, they called us over to the dinner table. The plates and silverware were neatly set at each seat, the delicious-smelling dinner steaming on plates and bowls for us to grab whatever we like. We all sat down and of course, guess who sits right across from me. That’s right. Niall. Out of all the seats to pick he picks the one across from me.

We got situated and began to dig into the food. The sound of kitchenware clanking together and the occasional “can you pass that bowl” were the only sounds filling the room. Once we had all finished getting our food, we began eating.

“This is so good, guys. Reminds me of how my grandma used to make it.” Molly smiled. 

We all nodded, hummed in agreement.

“Thanks, guys,” Connor grinned, “But honestly it was all Anna. I can’t cook shit.”

“I mean, ’m not gonna lie, he once tried to make me pancakes on my birthday and almost burnt down the whole apartment complex. Literally, everyone evacuated because the alarms went off.” Anna grinned. 

We all giggled, knowing full well that that’s something Connor would do. 

“I dunno what happened? I looked away for one second and all the sudden the smoke alarm goes off!” he defended himself. 

“That was an eventful birthday,” Anna giggled, mostly to herself.

The conversation began along the lines of bad cooking and fires. We all ate and laughed; just having a normal friend group conversation. Niall kept teasing me whenever he got the chance to throughout dinner and I decided that two could play his game. 

“Stop tryin’ t’ seduce me.” I teased after he winked at me and hummed a sexual innuendo in response to the story I was telling. 

Everyone giggled.

“’m not tryin’ t’. Unless ya want me t’.” he smirked. 

I rolled my eyes and took another bite of lasagna. 

“I thought you all hated each other.” Molly leaned over and whispered to me.  

“I can’t stand him.” I hummed back. 

“Oh okay,” she chuckled and I could tell she was still a little skeptical but I didn’t care. 

The rest of the night, he continued to tease me and I’d tease him back. The time had come where everybody had to leave. We all said our goodbyes and thank yous and then made our way to our cars. Unlocking my car, I glanced up and saw Niall. Our eyes locked and he gave me a quick wink before hopping into his car. Even though I could’ve sworn my heart had skipped a beat, I rolled my eyes and opened my door, getting into the driver’s seat. 

I slipped on my seatbelt and sighed. I groaned softly to myself as I reminisced the interactions I had with Niall today. I hated myself for giving into my temptations and doing that with him. I knew this would happen yet I still did it. 

Shaking it off, I turned on my car and made my way back to my dorm, jamming out with myself to the music on the radio to get Niall off my mind. 

***Another week had passed and surprise, surprise, Niall and I hadn’t spoken since. 

I was really hurt. I don’t know why this was affecting me so much because I knew this would happen, yet I still let him get to me. It was my fault though. I gave in to my temptations and now I regret it. 

I wanted to ask him about it and bring it to his attention. I was never good at confrontation and it always gave me major anxiety. But, I knew I had to do it if I wanted answers and not answers I just assumed. The problem is I just didn’t know when to do it. I told myself, “When the time is right, the opportunity will come up." 

I entered the lobby of our campus to pick myself up some Starbucks. As I walked in, I spotted Niall sat on the couch in the corner alone, working on something. I didn’t realize the opportunity would show up so soon. I took a second and debated whether or not I should do it, mentally giving myself a pep talk. I slowly walked over to him, my palms sweating and the butterflies in my stomach violently attacking each other. I stood in front of him and he looked up at me with those tantalizing eyes.

"Can I talk to you?” I asked, my heart beating at a thousand miles per minute. 

“Sure.” he hummed, setting his books down on the table in front of him.

I sat down next to him and positioned myself so I was facing him, glaring at him. 

“What?” he snapped, impatiently waiting for me to say what I wanted to say. 

“So you just gonna do me like me that and then never talk to me ever again?”  “What'dya mean?” he asked.

“Are you serious right now?” My temper began to rise, not actually believing he was going to act like this. 

He just gave me a look that said, “What?”

“You’re jus’ gonna act like we didn’t have sex." 

"No,” he trailed, “I know we did." 

"Then why haven’t you talked to me since?" 

"Um, yes I have. I talked to you literally a week ago at Connor’s." 

"Yeah, that’s it, you - ugh,” I groaned. 

“What da hell do ya want me t’ say t’ ya. I got nothin’ t’ say. We hooked up, ya just expect me to become yer best friend or some shit?”

“God, you’re such a prick. I can’t believe I let myself do that with you. I knew this shit would happen, yet I didn’t stop you." 

"Ah come on, don’t say that.” A smirk appeared on his beautiful, pink lips.

“It’s fucking true. I knew you’d do this.” I scoffed, “God, I can’t believe myself. I’m never doing that again.” I mumbled to myself mostly.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t like it." 

I rolled my eyes. Of course I liked it! And I told him that. 

"No, of course I liked it! That’s why ’m so upset about it!” I tried my best not to raise my voice. He chuckled deeply and I glared at him. He licked his lips before biting his bottom one. God, those lips. (Y/N) stop. 

“What’s there t’ be upset about? Ya got t’ fuck me. Not every girl gets that.” he spread both arms out, resting them on the couch ledge behind us, a smug look planted on his face. 

“Uh yes, every girl gets that.” He just chuckled. 

“Pretty irresistible, aren’t I?” he teased, “Got girls left and right in me bed. Once I gotcha I don’t need ya anymore and I move on." 

I couldn’t help but watch as his lips moved with every word that left his mouth. I imagined what it felt like to kiss those gorgeous lips and to run my fingers through that gorgeous hair. He finished speaking and I shook myself from my thoughts and thought about what he said, "You know how awful that is? You’re literally using girls like they’re toys." 

He shrugged. 

"God, I can’t stand you. You’re such a fucking dick.”

“Oh please, don’t fuckin’ act like you don’t wanna kiss me right now. I see ya staring at me lips." 

I didn’t say anything and just glared at him. He was right. I was using everything in my power not to kiss him. But damn, he was so fucking hot and his lips looked so soft and so kissable. The cocky smirk stayed on his face as he leaned over. His lips were inches from mine when I closed my eyes, feeling those soft lips mold against mine. Moving in sync, I began to let my mind wander to what he was capable of and how good he could make me feel. Pulling away from my lips, he trailed kisses along my jaw and to my earlobe. 

"I know ya want me t’ fuck ya again like I did,” he whispered into my ear, taking my earlobe between his pearly whites, nibbling it gently, “Want me t’ take ya from behind like dat, have ya cumming all over me cock? Hmm?" 

He let his hand slid into my inner thigh and under my skirt. He began feeling my wetness that was leaking through the fabric of my panties, putting pressure on my clit and rubbing it in circles. Luckily, there weren’t many people around, and the people that were around definitely weren’t paying attention to us. 

"Soaked fer me already, huh?" 

"Not here,” I breathed out, my voice cracking as I wrapped my hand around his wrist, my eyes continuously scanning the room to make sure no one was noticing.

“Know ya liked sucking me cock, having me hit da back of yer throat, yeah?” he continued on with his dirty words and I found myself mindlessly digging my nails into his skin. 

“Niall, not here,” I repeated, my breath hitching in my throat.

“Come t’ me car.” he hummed, grabbing his books and standing up. 

I followed him out of the lobby and down the street. We arrived in the parking lot where his black, range rover was parked. He quickly unlocked the door and tossed his bag into the trunk. He opened the door and we both climbed into the back seat. Closing the door behind me, he reached over the front seat and locked the door. 

He sat back in the middle seat, resting his body on the black, leather seats. Patting his lap, he murmured, “C'mere.”

I bit my bottom lip and straddled his lap. I cupped his face with my hands, his scruff tickling the skin of my palms. I pressed my lips to his lips, moving in sync with him. Taking a little bit of control, I plunged my tongue past his lips, exploring his mouth. He caught on and our tongues began to fight for dominance. His hands began to roam my body, landing on my bottom, squeezing what he could in his big palms. Soft sounds of approval fell from my lips as I kissed him. I melted into him, losing the battle and letting him take control.

“Grind yer hips on m-” he began before I started to grind my hips against his, “Dere ya go. Yer such a good girl." 

The friction from our clothed cores made electricity flicker through my body and my heart beat out of my chest a hundred miles per hour. His hands slipped under my shirt, running up and down my back, feeling the soft skin. I let my hands braid through his brunette locks, tugging at them gently. Moving his hands around my body and up my torso. He cupped my breasts in the palm of his hands over the fabric of my black bra. Trailing his kisses down my body, he pressed them all against my jaw and on my neck. Sucking and licking the skin, I hummed in approval. I let my head fall back and my fingers massage his scalp. 

"Take yer top off.” he mumbled, pulling on the hem of my light purple shirt.  

I obeyed him and crossed my arms, pulling my shirt up and over my head. Tossing it to the side, he slid his hands behind my back and unclasped my bra. He grabbed the straps and pulled them down my arms, tossing my bra with my shirt. My chest was now fully exposed to him. My nipples hardened at the sudden change of temperature. He licked his pink lips as he stared at my breasts, cupping them in his hands again. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling. 

I felt his lips against my skin again, moving south before they were placed against the swell of my right breast. He wrapped his lips around my nipple, sucking and licking at it.

“Mmm, such pretty tits,” he mumbled against my warm skin. 

I hummed, looking down at the top of his head and watching his lips move against my sensitive nub. Nibbling gently, I gasped, my back arching slightly into him. He gave the same amount of attention to my other breast before moving his kisses back up to my lips. He moved them in sync with mine again as I began to grind my hips against his again. His lips were soft, almost like flower petals. They were sweet against my tongue and the smell of his manly cologne filled my nose. 

“Suck me off, baby,” he murmured against me. 

I smiled softly, trailing my kisses down his neck, pressing my lips against all his little freckles. He grabbed onto the collar of his white, cut out, tank top, pulling it over his head and adding it to the pile of clothes next to us. I tried to get on my knees but there wasn’t enough room to get comfortable with the driver’s seat behind me.

“Can you move the seat for me?” I giggled, sitting in the middle seat.

“Yeah,” he hummed, slipping his hand past the seat and pulling on the lever that moved the seat. He pushed the seat as far forward as he could so I had room to get on my knees. Luckily, I wasn’t too big and I had just enough room to sit comfortably on my knees in front of him. 

I slipped my fingers past the elastic band of his basketball shorts, tugging at them, acknowledging him to lift his hips so I could take them off. And that’s exactly what he did. He lifted up his hips and I slid his shorts, as well as his boxers, down his fit legs. His clothes were loose enough to get past his feet, I didn’t even bother asking him to take off his gym shoes. Once he was fully exposed to me, I dropped his clothes to the side and licked my lips as I stared at his throbbing member in front of me. Looking up at him, he was looking down at me, anxiously waiting for me to start.

I wrapped my palm around his shaft, pumping it. I slide my thumb across his red tip, spreading around his precum to make it easier. I began to kitten lick his head, taking it between my lips and sucking harshly. He grunted, threading his thick fingers through my long hair. Knowing that if I teased him too much I would definitely have to pay for it so, I went straight in and took him in my mouth. 

Beginning to bob my head, I looked up at him. He had his bottom lip trapped between his pearly white set of teeth and his eyebrows furrowed together as he watched me. I hollowed out my cheeks, the sounds of my mouth, his breathing and occasional moans filling the car. My panties were soaked with my arousal as I felt my tummy twist as I pleased him. 

Letting his lip pop back into place, he parted his lips, soft breaths leaving his throat. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the black headrest. Lifting up one hand, he ran his thick fingers through his hair, playing with the soft strands. I let out a hum and I felt his body shiver. Tugging on his own locks, his tongue slipped out to the corner of his mouth, dampening his lips. Releasing off of him, I licked up the undersides of him like a popsicle, my fingertips gently massaging his sensitive head.

“Jesus,” he moaned. 

I grinned softly, confidence overtaking my body. I took him back in my mouth momentarily, bobbing my head again. My lips were wrapped tight around his shaft, my tongue licking up and down as my head moved. With my right hand pumping what wasn’t in my mouth, my left hand was placed on his thigh, my nails gently digging into his soft skin. 

Releasing off of him again with a soft popping sound, I wrapped my pink lips around his tip. Licking up and down on his slit, I swallowed every last bit of the salty precum oozing out of him. I began to swirl my tongue around his sensitive tip and I saw his stomach clench. He gathered up all my hair and held it away from my face, squeezing it tightly as the pleasure rose. I pressed him up against the side of my cheek, rubbing his tip back and forth against my cheek. Pumping what wasn’t in my mouth, he let out a moan, “So fuckin’ sexy with me cock in yer mouth." 

I looked up at him and my eyes made contact with the beautiful blue orbs he had. God, he was so attractive. Those plump pink lips of his were parted, the scruff he had grown out complimenting his sharp jaw, and his beautifully shaped eyebrows were furrowed together. His bare chest was adorned with hair and sweat, his chest rising up and down with every deep breath he took.

I felt my jaw begin to get a little sore and a little tired. Coming off of him with a soft pop, I trailed sloppy kisses down his shaft until I got to his balls. Cupping them in my left hand, I used my right hand to pump his shaft. I gently began to massage his balls, looking up at him through my mascara-coated lashes. His soft, pink lips were parted and his eyebrows were furrowed together as our eyes locked together. I broke the eye-contact when I dipped my head down and began to press gentle kisses to the sensitive skin of his balls. I stuck my tongue out and began to draw patterns. Moans and hums of approval fell from his throat. His chest rose up and down, a thin layer of sweat coating his tan and toned skin. After giving his other ball the same amount of attention, my jaw had finally gained its strength again. 

Smiling softly at him, I traced his prominent veins with the tip of my tongue, all the way up until I got to his pulsing tip again. Taking it past my lips, I sucked on it like a sucker, swirling my tongue and hollowing my cheeks out.  

Deciding to take it a bit further and bring him to his orgasm faster, I released him from my mouth again and gave myself a second to prepare for what I was about to do. While my mouth wasn’t on him, my hands still were, pumping him vigorously. His hard length was coated with a thin layer of my saliva. 

Once I had mentally prepared myself, I relaxed my throat and took in his full length. My nose was nuzzled in the little patch of hairs at his pelvic bone as his tip hit the back of my throat. My eyes watered and I tried my best to hold back my gagging. A low moan rumbled from out of his throat and his grip on my hair tightened. Coming off of him, I looked up at him.

"Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he breathed out, pushing my head back down onto his hard member. Making sure to breathe through my nose, I took him in again, letting him hit the back of my throat with every bob of my head. Humming against him, low moans and groans fell from his lips. Since my hands were completely free now, I placed both of them on either one of his thighs, digging my nails into them, leaving scratches for later. The tightening of my throat when I gagged on him had him a moaning mess.

He tightened his grip on my head, so tight that I couldn’t move. Staying still with his tip just past my lips, he began to take control of my head and move t at his own pace. I relaxed my head and let him do whatever he wanted. Moving it up and down quickly, his tip hit the back of my throat with every thrust of my mouth he made. Tears began to build up in my eyes and my gag reflux was acting up. 

“Ya like suckin’ on me cock, yeah?” he smirked, “Like when I fuck yer mouth like this? Gotcha gagging on me cock. Bet yer soaked right now." 

He was so smug about it honestly made me want to smack him. But, god, he was so right. His dirty words had the pressure in my abdomen tighten and my panties soaked. I swallowed him down and my long nails dug into the skin of his thighs even harder. I looked up at him through my lashes and every time my head came back up, I saw him watching me. Pornographic moans left his lips, his face contorted with pleasure and sweat coated his handsome body.

Feeling my throat get a little sore, I whined and he let go of my head, his hips bucking up. I came off of him with a soft pop, swallowing any extra saliva and wiping my eyes quickly. I wrapped my palm around his shaft and took his tip to my lips again, sucking violently.

"Such a dirty girl, arentcha?" 

I hummed, licking up his shaft before taking him in my mouth. I pushed his tip to the side of my cheek, rubbing it up and down. Bringing it back just past my lips, I sucked on it again, swirling my tongue in every direction on it. My hand was pumping his shaft while my mouth worked on his sensitive tip, doing everything in my power to get him to his orgasm.

"Mmm, stop, gonna cum,” he whimpered, pulling me away from his member.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I grinned up at him. Snaking back up his sweaty body, I straddled his lap again. Pressing my lips against his, my tongue roamed his mouth, letting him taste himself. His hands ran up and down my body, feeling every inch. Moving his fingers south, he fumbled with the button on my jean shorts. After popping the button open, he pulled down the golden zipper and slide his hand into my pants. He pressed his thick fingers to my clit over the fabric of my light blue panties, beginning to rub it in circles. He moved them further down and began to feel how my wetness had soaked my panties, “Jesus, gotcha soaked t'rough yer panties, didn’t I?" 

"Mhm, got me so wet,” I murmured, “just for you." 

"Dat’s right,” he mumbled against my lips, giving my bum a good smack, “Why dontcha take these off fer me?" 

Rolling off of his lap, I sat down on the seat next to him, lifting my hips and sliding my shorts, as well as my panties, down my smooth legs. Now that we were both completely naked, I began to climb back onto his lap, but he stopped me, "Hang on. Gotta put a condom on." 

I mumbled and ’okay’ and relaxing back against the seat. He reached over and lifted up the middle compartment, pulling out a pack of extra large condoms, tearing off one and dropping the rest back in before slamming the lid shut. Leaning back in his seat again, he fumbled with the wrapper. Once he successfully got it open, he pinched the tip and rolled it onto himself.

"Lemme lay down an’ you can ride me.” he ordered, adjusting his body and beginning to lie down across the seats.

While he got comfortable, I positioned myself on his lap, straddling his hips. I grabbed onto his member and ran his tip against my clit and up and down my soaked slit, teasing both of us. Placing his tip at my entrance, I sank down onto him. I placed my hands on his hairy chest to support myself. I began to grind my hips against his and the pleasure immediately began to rise. He placed both of his hands on my hips, deepening my grinds. 

“Yer s'warm,” he moaned. 

I let out a soft whine, feeling as his veins ran against my tight, wet walls with every thrust. The familiar feeling of him in my stomach sent me to heaven. I dreamed of the day where we did this again. My grinds sped up and my body began to physically react to him. My muscles began to tense and my breath hitched. My body began to feel like jelly and I let it gently fall on top of his chest, keeping my hips grinding against his. I attached my lips to his neck, kissing every single one of his freckles that I could reach with my lips. 

He grabbed my head and moved it so it was hovering above his. He cupped my face and crashed his lips onto mine. Our tongues and lips moved in sync. I let my muscles squeeze around him and he moaned against my lips, “Mmm, do it again." 

I continued to let my walls clench and unclench around him. Curses fell from his lips and his hands fell to my hips again, his fingertips digging into my skin. The sweat began to bead on our bodies. I felt his warm breath fan across my shoulder with every breath he took and it sent pleasureful shivers up my spine. 

"Oh god, you feel so good,” I moaned, grabbing onto his soft hair and tugging on it. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out, “Tell me more." 

I continued to moan praises into his ear, feeling him twitch inside of me. My stomach clenching and my thighs trembling with bliss. I sat up, placing both hands on his hairy chest for support. Making eye-contact with him, I continued to move my hips against his. My breasts bounced with each thrust of my hips. He reached up and groped both my breasts in his hands, massaging and squeezing them. His fingers rolled my nipples between his calloused fingertips. 

I watched him admire my body. The hickeys defining his neck, his skin glowing and sweat beading upon it. His cheeks have flushed a shade of light pink and little strands of hair were stuck to his wrinkled forehead. His untrimmed scruff characterized his sharp jawline and his usual blue eyes were overtaken by a dark layer of lust. He was fucking gorgeous in my eyes. "Get on yer knees an’ I’ll take ya from behind." 

Obeying his words, I got off of his lap and sat back next to his feet before he sat up. It was a bit hard to move around since we were so crammed but we managed and I was soon on my knees with my ass in the air for him. 

Lining himself up again, he rammed into me and I let out a moan. Gaining his speed again, his hips smacked against mine. The only sounds I could hear was the cars and occasional voices outside the car, our heavy panting and the moans that spilled from our lips. The smell of sex and leather filled my nose. The car shook slightly with each hard thrust he did with his hips. The pleasure he was giving me had me seeing stars behind my squeezed shut eyelids. 

"s'good.” I mumbled, sinking my teeth into my forearm, not wanting to be loud enough for the people outside the car to hear. 

Gathering all my hair in his one hand, he tugged on it, making my head fall back. My breath hitched in my throat and I felt my heart skip a beat. The angle and deepness of his thrusts were heavenly. He let go of my hair, letting it sprawl on my back again. I felt my orgasm coming up and I knew it would seconds until I released. 

“Gonna make me cum, don’t stop,” I whimpered, digging my nails into the leather of the seats. 

“Do it, cum fer me.” he grunted. 

And a few thrusts later and he had me trembling with pleasure under him. The tight ball in my tummy had exploded and shot off into the clouds. I was taken over with bliss and saw stars behind my squeezed closed eyelids. Not even seconds later, I felt him twitch inside of me, signaling he had released. Our moans collided and filled the car. His moans were like music to my ears.  He slowed down his thrusts, letting both of us ride out our highs. 

The moans subsided and were taken over by our heavy breathing as we both came down from the clouds. He pulled out of me and sat down, letting his head fall back against the headrest. I sat up and did the same. I scooted next to him and pressed my lips to his again for one last passionate kiss before we began to get dressed again.

[sunflowervolvimp3]

you’re someone i just want around: II

“You can call me when you feel like

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

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

Let me be your goodnight”

-Temporary Fix, One Direction

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

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

word count: 15.8k

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s waiting for an invitation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want you to fuck my mouth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Take off your clothes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

Harry is bored.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and give me a minute.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[1kook]

Hi Everyone, please read

tw// racism

First of all, I just wanna say I’m so grateful for all the nice anons and interactions I get to have with people here everyday. I live in a densely populated city so quarantine regulations were super tough when this all started in March and remain strict even all the way into October. I haven’t been able to see my friends a lot or anyone outside of my family and job, which really sucked, but it was fine because I had my blog! The beginning of September I had two fics that did so amazing and of which I am so thankful for their response, because with that came a lot of new anon friends!

I have been on tumblr since 2012, but I have never received the same amount of interaction as I do now. I’m so happy I can interact with people on here be it anonymous or not. I enjoy hearing ideas and doing my best to fulfill them, hearing about someone’s day, and laughing about stupid jokes. It’s gotten to the point where some have picked names and further fleshed out our friendships because of how close we’ve gotten!! I have had so much fun everyday asking stupid questions and getting equally as silly answers and it’s all because I was able to make people feel comfortable on my blog.

However, people are not always nice. That’s fine! It’s the internet, this will always happen. Rarely do I get hateful anons and rarely do I post the few I do get. Sometimes they’re funny and I laugh and go about my day. Most anons have been about my style as an author, the types of fics I put out, and for the most part, the similarity in all my fics. I’ll address this now. if you feel my fics are all the same then consider this.

1. I write fics FOR MYSELF about ideas I have and want to see, and post them FOR MYSELF. I don’t mean to sound cocky but at the end of the day every fic i have ever posted is just me filling my own imagination in a self indulgent way. They’re all the same because they’re all things I like??? Things I want to read??? No offense, but unless I am filling a requests, you’re GONNA SEE jk college au. jk boyfriend. jk dom/sub. jk this and this. Why? Because it’s my blog and I post what I like.

2. If you don’t like my fics.... don’t read them? I am not holding you at gunpoint to read these fics nor is anyone else. If you appear on my blog to complain about my fics ... okay?? I’m not gonna change them lmao. You’re not the target audience, so move along.

But truthfully speaking, this is not the main reason I am making this post. Do I care what people online think about my fics? Mmm not really. Writing fics is something I do in my free time as a hobby. I’ve never wanted to do this professionally lmao. I do it for fun when I’m bored or procrastinating. I have other hobbies I do too. I journal i paint i play soccer I listen to music. I frankly am not offended when people critique my work, especially not when they chose to do it through an anonymous message.

What DOES offend me is when people abuse the anonymous option to be spiteful and hateful, and use my ethnic background against me... OVER KPOP. OVER FAN FIC ABOUT KPOP.

Am I offended about the first part of the ask? No I don’t care. What I am disgusted and disturbed by is that you have been blatantly racist and ignorant not only to ME but to ALL OTHER POCS with the second half of your message. Being a POC writing for BTS is bad?? What do you prefer I write about? Shawn Mendes? Niall Horan? I’d rather choke. What do you even mean??? Am I supposed to write Can fic for completely unproblematic people?? Give me an example?? Furthermore, I am not black so for you to come in here and disrespect black people with your last comment is immature, disgusting, and racist. Go to hell.

I deleted the message. I always delete excessively rude messages. I was hoping it was a one time occurrence but nope. A few hours later.

My status as an undocumented immigrant is something I have shared on tumblr because it is my safe space and somewhere where no one in real life knows me. Did you think this was funny? Did you think I actually laughed? I didn’t. I won’t lie. This ask terrified me. You’re threatening to call ICE on me.... OVER KPOP? OVER FAN FICS OF KPOP? How old are you. How immature do you have to be to take it this far.

I deleted this message and turned off anon. I am not gonna let some anonymous grey sunglasses orb abuse the anonymous option like this. Honestly, I knew another message was bound to follow up and it did 🤗

thanks for showing me your face, doll. I reported your account and so did a bunch of friends of mine. It’s funny that you mention writing better content but your blog is only ten posts? 9 of which are reblogs of fan fics? What do you write babe? What do you do? Where do you post? As I’ve said before I frankly don’t care for writing advice, this is just a hobby. But if you’re going to claim you’re some modern day Shakespeare maybe have the proof to back it up. Also your first posts says you’re a black woman, but your first ask to me says POC shouldn’t enjoy BTS.... honey all your posts are about BTS. So what’s the truth? Do we enjoy them or not? Next time you feel some type of way towards me as a Mexican woman, don’t start off by hiding behind anon until I force you off, don’t disrespect me or other POCs, and don’t use a burner account like you did. And for the record. I barely believe you’re black, and honestly speaking, everything about your asks have racist undertones only a white person could carry out.

Anyway. I am posting this because I want to highlight just how difficult it is to be a POC in this fandom. Army preach about being this or being that. We love each other. We look out for each other. ARMY is family blah blah blah.

No we’re not.

I have been an ARMY since 2015. The only places I have ever found comfort within this fandom are with other POCs, and even then it is only a few people here and there. This random ass hoe that I have NEVER interacted with before decided to take the fact I am a POC and taunt me, attack me, harass me, whatever you want to call it, and didn’t come off anon until I forced them off.

I am so beyond tired of being a POC in this fandom. When will you all recognize that one “I stand by” post is never enough to support us. “I can’t be racist I support BTS’s message💜” shut the hell up. You kiss these men’s feet for being your woke kings but then turn around and say things like this. Was it fun? Was it cool parading around in your ‘I do whatever BTS does’ cloak? You guys pick and choose when you want to be a model ARMY, and then turn around do things like this. Over kpop. Your allyship means nothing when there are still people like this in fandom who try to bully me OVER KPOP. OVER JUNGKOOK. OVER A MAN WE DONT KNOW AND NEVER WILL KNOW.

Please don’t interact with this person. Please just block and report them.

Anon’s gonna be off for a while, thanks for reading.

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You

Characters [x] // Instagrams [x] // Mood Boards [x]

click here to be on the update list

comedy, drama, romance, smut

[Niall Horan x OFC]

College Enemies to Lovers AU

All Devon wanted was a chance to start from scratch. No past, no stories, no rumors, no relationships, and nothing that could remind her of the last two years of her life. This time, she decided that she was going to be a different person, someone with more self-esteem, someone who wasn’t naïve, someone who wouldn’t let anyone walk all over her.

Because of a paperwork mistake, she ends up in the boys’ building and that’s when she meets Niall, her new (but especially insufferable) roommate and his undying desire to make her suffer any chance he can. He knows how to piss her off and he clearly abuses that superpower without any shame. Devon lives for the day she can finally move out but no matter where she goes and what she does, Niall is never too far. Perhaps fate is having a good laugh, because she seems to get stuck with him way more often than not and gets put in situations where she clearly can’t escape.

Maybe if they gave each other a chance, something good could come out of all of this, but Devon had promised herself that this time, she wouldn’t let her guard down. Not for anyone, and especially not for an annoying, childish, cocky and vile boy, no matter how pretty he was… And damn, he was pretty.

Chapter 1 (Devon) : Sick Of Me

Chapter 2  (Devon) : Suffocate

Chapter 3  (Devon) : How Does It Feel?

Chapter 4  (Devon) : Feeling A Moment

Chapter 5  (Devon) : Hey Soul Sister

Chapter 6  (Devon) : Bruises

Chapter 7  (Devon) : Break Me, Shake Me

Chapter 8  (Devon) : Get Up & Go

Chapter 9  (Devon) : I Don’t Wanna Go To Bed

Chapter 10  (Devon) : If Only

Chapter 11  (Devon) : Don’t Wanna Fall In Love

Chapter 12  (Devon) : Cruel To Be Kind

Chapter 13  (Devon) : Staring At The Ceiling

Chapter 14  (Devon) : I Really Like You

Chapter 15  (Devon) : Some Say

Chapter 16 (Niall) : I Think I Love You

Chapter 17 (Niall) : Cant Fight This Feeling 

Chapter 18 (Niall) : I Want You

Chapter 19 (Niall) : Empire

Chapter 20 (Niall) : Everytime We Touch

Chapter 21 (Niall) : Tell Me

Chapter 22 (Niall) : Miss You Like Crazy

Chapter 23 (NIall) : I Want You To Want Me

Chapter 24 (Niall) : Move Along

Chapter 25 (Niall) : The Only Exception

Chapter 26 (Niall) : Naked

Chapter 27 (Niall) : Let My Love Open The Door

Chapter 28 (Niall) : She Looks So Perfect

Chapter 29 (Niall) : Break My Heart

Chapter 30 (Niall) : Wonderwall

Chapter 31 (Devon) : Sweetest Pain

Chapter 32 (Niall) : If You Don’t Know

Chapter 33 (Devon) : Me & My Broken Heart

Chapter 34 (Niall) : Somebody

Chapter 35 (Devon) : Things I’ll Never Say

Chapter 36 (Niall) : Electric Love

Chapter 37 (Devon) : Save Me

Chapter 38 (Niall) : Stuck With You

Epilogue 1 (Devon) : Heartbreak Weather

Epilogue 2 (Niall) : Anyone But You

*COMPLETED*

[emmashq]

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; aaron hart

Aaron, A, Mr. Hart, Daddy

twenty seven years old; november 13

cis man; he/him

bisexual; biromantic

ceo ; hart enterprises

label: the king

cocky, selfish, vainglorious, greedy, impulsive, protective, loyal, smart, hard working, disorganized, passionate, resourceful, confident, charming

you might recognize them as ( niall horan ), or from their aesthetic; ( louis vuitton, designer suits, daddy kink, and new york city ).

FAMILY. robert hart ( father; deceased ) & maura hart ( mother ), flynn hart ( son - age 7 ), destiny hart ( daughter - age 5 ), lucky cortes ( ex-wife / co parent )

more about aaron.

(( TW: Death, Cancer, Toxic Masculinity, Child Maltreatment ))

Aaron was born on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, NY to Maura and Robert Hart. He most of his childhood in New York City, and spent many summers in Paris. He was born in old family money, and grew up wanting for nothing. Whatever Aaron wanted, he got it. As a teenager, Aaron got easily swept up in money and partying.He become a known as a bit of a Casanova on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. For Aaron, money and sex were the only thing that mattered. Aaron attended New York University, where he obtained his business degree in May 2015.

From a young age, Aaron was close with his father. His father taught Aaron everything he knew about business, money and life. He was smart, charming man (much like Aaron), and many people around him revered him. While Aaron loved and looked up to his father with his whole heart, Aaron's dad wasn't the greatest and he was rather toxic. He taught Aaron to treat women like objects, and even took Aaron to strip clubs when he was still underage. His father owned a porn production company and brought Aaron to set while he was a teenager as well. His father wanted him to be tough and show no emotion, even if he was feeling it.

When Aaron was 21, his father was diagnosed with terminal cancer and passed away only a few months laster. His dad’s death was one of the hardest times in Aaron’s life. Even in his late 20s, Aaron still sees his Dad as invincible and Aaron still looks up to him. He wasn’t ready for his Dad to go, especially considering he had just found out that he was expecting a baby.

Aaron became a business owner at a young age. While he was in college, his father made Aaron his partner in his successful nightlife empire. The family owned half of the upscale bars in Manhattan. He also became a partner in his dad's porn production company, in which Aaron put much of his time into. When Aaron’s father died, Aaron inherited the entire empire. He was not nearly as prepared as he should have been, but he was determined to make his father proud.

Aaron has his first child, Flynn, at a young age. His father pushed him to marry the mother of his child out of fear that a baby out of wedlock would look bad for a family of their standing and for the company. Aaron soon married his now ex-wife, but his father passed away before he could even attend the ceremony or meet his grandson. 

After the passing of his father and the birth of his first child, Aaron ended up selling the porn production company for a metric fuck ton of money, and expanded his father’s bar and restaurant empire. He soon became one of the richest, most powerful person in New York City.

Aaron and his ex-wife eventually had another baby, Destiny, a couple of years later. Aaron’s children soon became the center of his entire world. His marriage, on the other hand, was not something that Aaron was ready for when it happened. Of course, Aaron was upset when the couple had ultimately decided to get a divorce. He loved his wife, but deep-down Aaron knew that it was the right thing to do for his wife and his kids. 

After the divorce, Aaron’s ex moved to Coast City and Aaron quickly realized that co-parenting from two different part of the country was not the way that he wanted to raise his family. So. He bought a house in Coast City not long after his wife’s move and settled into the town. He is currently working on bringing his empire to the quiet little beach town after taking some time off to spend with his kids. 

wanted connections.

assistant (someone who aaron is very close with personally, and who knows him inside and out)

exes (men, women and anyone in between)

hook ups (this man a sloot)

family members who help him run the family business and those who do not

friends from new york (high school friends, nyu friends, adulting friends)

business enemies

sugar babies

employees (bartenders, waitresses, managers, dancers, people who work at his clubs and bars)

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

I Love You (Bad Boy!Shawn)

A/N: I used some dialogue prompts in this so credit to @promptdumpster and @corvidprompts. I’ve had this idea for a while but I’ve been in a little bit of a writing slump. This was supposed to be bad boy Shawn but it was more of soft and protective Shawn. (I’m not too sorry though) Thank you so much for reading!

Summery: You’re the shy goody-two-shoes and Shawn in the notorious bad boy around campus. One night you go to a party with him and has to save you when some guy gets too intense.

 Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and violence. Not proofread because it’s 2 am. 

People always thought you were the odd couple around campus. A goody-two-shoes with the notorious bad boy. Truth be told, it was quite odd, but you loved it. You never thought you would fall into that stereotype, but you can’t deny love. Your “getting together story” was strange, but that didn’t matter now.

                                                                                                       Two years ago

“What the hell are you doing here at two in the morning and why are you bleeding?”

“Please let me in Y/N. I’ll explain in a minute.” Shawn looked desperate standing at the doorstep of your dorm, a scared look replacing his usual cocky demeanor. You expected him to make a comment on your swearing, but he never did. “Please. I think they’re following me.”

“Come in then. Yeesh.” You close the door behind him and grab your glasses off your nightstand. Thankfully your roommate was away on a vacation and you had the dorm to yourself for a few days. “There a reason why you decided to come here at this time in the morning? I was kinda in the middle of a dream about my date with Niall Horan.”

“Sorry I interrupted with my life or death situation.” He didn’t seem overly amused with your joke, going ahead and plopping down on your bed with a dramatic sigh.

You walk over to him and move his legs over to make room for yourself. The situation was sort of strange if you thought about it. The notorious bad boy in the good girl’s dorm. Some would be surprised by the fact that you allowed him in your dorm in the first place. He had been here multiple times before though, as you would often study together for upcoming tests. It started with you tutoring him in math, him returning the favor by helping you with science. Most people thought Shawn liked to blow off classes but in reality he loved school. He just had a tendency to get involved with the gangs hanging around campus.

“You woke me up at an unreasonable time, you better have a good excuse.”

Shawn told you the story of how he got caught up in a fight while taking a walk. It turned out that the boy who Shawn decided to pick a fight with had backup, and soon it was five to one. Thankfully he was a fast runner and those boys were unlikely to follow him into the dormitory.

“So by housing you I am putting my well being and safety at risk?” He noticed how you seemed much more anxious, your mind already going to the worst possible situation.

“No! They won’t come near you unless they need leverage on me.”

“How is your life so full of danger and ‘excitement’?” You used air quotes to get the point across.

“Well I mean, your life? Tragic. Mine? Lit.”

“My life is not tragic. I just don’t enjoy a lot of socializing,” This was your excuse for everything, as Shawn had tried to get you to go to parties with him before, to which you always said no. “And yours is only ‘lit’ because your always partying or doing something ‘exciting’.” He knew you were teasing and only shook his head at your rambling, exhaustion already taking over.  

“Shit, I got blood on your sheets.”

“Let me get you cleaned up. Take off your shirt.”

“Wow, okay, you need to buy me a dinner at least before we go to that level.”

“Don’t argue with me right now. I just need to check your ribs and then you can put it back on.”

You then went to grab some bandages and a wet paper towel while Shawn took off his slightly bloody shirt, revealing some bruises on his ribs. You started dabbing at the cuts on his face, a look of concern overcoming your face. Shawn enjoyed how concentrated you were, happy that you were actually willing to help him.

“Is this the part where I tell you I love you?”

“Excuse me?” You astonishment and confusion made him chuckle. You stopped working on his face and stepped back to make sure you heard him correctly. “This is a joke, right?”

“Why would I be joking?” There was only sincerity on his face, revealing that he was in fact, not joking. “I actually am in love with you, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“There’s no way. I’m too much of a goody-two-shoes for you to date.”

“No you’re not. You’re my beautiful best friend, and I am in love with you.”

He couldn’t be serious. Sure, you had a crush on him but your relationship would never work. He was into a lot more socializing than you were, and you weren’t going to go out of your way to carve time out of your schedule to do couple stuff. Now wasn’t exactly your ideal time for a relationship.

“You think you love me, but you don’t. You don’t know the first thing about love and neither do I!” You claim, making a disgusted face. “It just wouldn’t work out.”

“We can figure it out together,” He reaches for your hand as he pleads. “Please give me a chance.”

“Shawn, I don’t know. You’re going to want to do all kinds of couple stuff and we both know I won’t want to. What if you get bored?”

“I’ll try not to push your boundaries. Please Y/N.”

“Fine.” You admit defeat, too tired to fight him any longer. The immediate happiness that came to him brought a smile to your face though.

                                                                                                          Present time

“I’ve never made you come to a party before. Please come to this one, just this one time.” Shawn begs as he sits on your bed. You were sitting at your desk and finishing a worksheet for math.

“I need to study for that English test next week and we both know I’m going to be tired within the first hour.”

“Yes, we know. Introvertism is a bitch.” Came a sarcastic reply, Shawn playfully rolling his eyes at your excuses. “We don’t have to stay for the whole thing. Just like three hours.”

“Three hours?! I would actually die.”

“Okay Ms. drama queen. Come on. Put that homework away and get changed into party clothes. We’re going to that party and you’re going to have fun.” He gets up and walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Give me a minute to change. Promise not to leave me alone?”

“Sure. I promise.”

“I’m serious. If you leave me I’ll either leave or end up in a corner, avoiding any and all social contact.”

With a sigh, Shawn goes to your dresser and finds a shirt and black jeans, handing them to you so you can change. Less than five minutes later your on your way to your first college party.  

At the party

The music was a little louder than you would’ve liked and you thought there were too many people crammed into the small space, but you were determined to stick it out for at least three hours.

“Shawn, is that your girl?” That was a common question of the night. You weren’t surprised though, as it was rare that you made an appearance out with Shawn. He always responded with a proud smirk and “Yup, this is my beautiful lady.”

After about an hour of walking around with your social butterfly, you began to grow tired. “I’m going to go sit down. You can keep walking around if you’d like.”

“You sure babe? I don’t mind sitting for a bit with you.”

“It’s fine. Keep hanging out.” He knew you weren’t mad, just exhausted from being around so many people. Even if you weren’t talking to them, being around them was a lot for you to deal with.

“Alright. Stay safe.” He kisses your forehead and walks you over to a couch. He walks away before you can respond, a game of beer pong calling his name from across the room.

You pulled out your phone and pulled up the ebooks app, starting to read a novel you had yet to start. You thought you had made it clear that you didn’t want to be messed with by ignoring everyone, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Hey cutie. What are you doing here all lonely?” A clearly drunk man asks you, getting much closer than you ever want any person.

“You’re in my personal space.” You mumble not loud enough for him, but clearly showing discomfort in your body language.

“What was that baby? You want to go out with me?”

“Umm . .  I have a boyfriend so . . . not really.”

“Oh come one baby. He probably doesn’t really love you. He’s not here right now.”

“No, but he does love me. He’s just playing some beer pong while I relax for a moment.”

“Just give me a chance Miss goody-two-shoes. You’re being a bitch. Who even is this ‘boyfriend’ of yours?” He forces his hand into yours and you try to shoot a look of help to Shawn, but he’s already coming your way.

“It’s me buddy. And I suggest you leave Y/N alone before I get ugly with you.”

“Oh yeah?” The boy challenged, not realizing what Shawn could do to him in a matter of seconds. “What are you gonna do about it bad boy?”

That was the final straw for Shawn, as he punches the boy square in the jaw. People turn to stare but he doesn’t care. Grabbing your hand he mumbles a “let’s go” before pulling you up from the couch. You make your way out of the party quickly, Shawn pulling you close to him as you walk out.

Once you get out of the area he pulls you in for a tight hug, lips pressed to your forehead and eyes closed. He rubs his hands up and down your sides beneath your shirt to calm you down, although you were sure it was more so to calm himself.

“You alright?” He asks simply. You bury your face closer to his chest and nod, breathing in his cologne and enjoying the soft moment while it lasted. “I love you. You know that right?” His voice was flat but you knew he meant it. Again, you nod and mumble an “I love you more.” into his chest.

He chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before letting you go. “You look cold. Take my jacket.”

“No. You’re going to get cold.” You tried to resist but it was no use. “Besides, you have to keep up the bad boy reputation.”

“My muscles will keep me warm.”

“What about my muscle?” You ask, flexing the small amount of muscle on your bicep.

“Honey, I love you but I have way more meat than those tiny arms. Please take my jacket.”

“Please, you wish you were on my level.” You reply as you place your arms in the black leather jacket he was holding up for you.

“I’m gonna expect you to use those muscles when I cuddle the fuck out of you.” You roll your eyes and start walking back to your dorm.

“It’s like twelve o’clock. Do I have to stay up much longer? I’m even more tired now that we were at that party for so long.”

“You are such an introvert.”

“Yeah but you love me.”

“You and all that muscle on your biceps.”

“You know it.”

[aaronhart93]

( NIALL HORAN, 27, CIS MAN ) I just bumped into [ AARON HART ] the other day while walking down [ NORTH ] Kingsboro, where [ HE/HIM ] live. I hear they can be [ PROTECTIVE ] and [ VAINGLORIOUS ], but when I think of them I immediately think about [ MONEY, LOUIS VUITTON, AND PARIS ]. ( Emma, 23, she/her, EST )

Name: Aaron Patrick Hart

Birthday: November 13, 1993 | Scorpio

House: Slytherin 

Hometown: Manhattan, New York, NY

Job: Business owner

Sexuality: bisexual 

Positive Traits: hard-working, passionate, caring, resourceful, intelligent, fatherly, charismatic

Negative Traits: greedy, cocky, selfish, overprotective, disorganized, impulsive, vainglorious

(( TW: Death ))

Aaron was born on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, NY to Maura and Robert Hart. He most of his childhood in New York City, and spent many summers in Paris. He was born in old family money, and grew up wanting for nothing. Whatever Aaron wanted, he got it. As a teenager, Aaron got easily swept up in money and partying.He become a known as a bit of a Casanova on the Upper East Side of Manhattan. For Aaron, money and sex were the only thing that mattered. Aaron attended New York University, where he obtained his business degree in May 2015.

From a young age, Aaron was close with his father. His father taught Aaron everything he knew about business, money and life. When Aaron was 22, his father passed away unexpectedly. His dad’s death was one of the hardest times in Aaron’s life. Even in his 20s, Aaron saw his Dad as invincible and Aaron still looked up to him. He wasn’t ready for his Dad to go.

Aaron became a business owner at a young age. While he was in college, his father made Aaron his partner in his successful nightlife empire. The family owned half of the upscale bars in Manhattan. They also owned a porn production company, in which Aaron put much of his time into. When Aaron’s father died, Aaron inherited the entire empire. He was not nearly as prepared as he should have been, but he was determined to make his father proud.

In his early 20s, Aaron got an opportunity to star in a new reality show called “Rich Kids”. The premise of the show was to gather rich kids and poor kids from all over the country to participate in challenges and throwing them in front of cameras. Aaron was pulled into situations he never thought he would be in and was tested in ways he never thought possible. No matter the challenges, Aaron didn’t regret his couple years on the show. He feel in love twice. Met some of his best friends. And, most importantly, had his daughter.

Since the show ended, Aaron has sold his porn company and used the money to buy and open new high end clubs in Manhattan. He moved to Kingsboro from Manhattan after the show ended with his daughter and his daughter’s mom the first time he heard how up and coming the neighborhood was. He decided he wanted to take advantage of of neighborhood and cheap real estate to open new bars and restaurants.

Wanted Connections:

Prom Date: a girl that aaron went to prom with in high school, they had sex at the end of the night and ended up getting pregnant, she had an abortion without even telling aaron she was pregnant in the first place (she would be 26-27 now)

Nice to meet ya, Carolina: he/she/they sneaks into on of aaron’s high end parties (which they definitely weren’t invited to), and they have a fun and wild night together but never see each other again (they would have been 21-30 years old when it happened)

[hbwbyniall]

I'll give you some wiggle room! 1, 20, or 48 please :)

Sorry for the waiting, I wrote this at 3 am so :) don’t trust me :)

It’s game night and the boys are at his place. Harry is not there yet but he can tell from the dozens of texts they keep sending in the group chat even though they know he is in a meeting right now making his phone vibrate for last ten minutes, so he turns it off the second he feels his boss eyes in the back of his neck of the fifth time.

It’s late, he’s very much aware of that but this is his first real job after college, he knew it would be hard being an associate in one of the most prestigious law firms of London. He’s been working for it since he started his internship two years ago, making copies, getting coffee and doing errands for almost every lawyer in the office, he met people in the Courthouse and the DA office, he earned his place and his desk as an associate, he studied his ass off in Law School and got good recommendations from teachers to get the internship in Kingsley&Foley, he was the first to arrive and the last one to leave and he never let work interfere with his grades so he could assure a job right after finishing college, which he did. Now the only thing left is to make a name of his own and to do that he needs to work.

Someday it will be me worthy, all of this, the late nights and early mornings; having to put up with pretentious, arrogant and narcissists attorneys that don’t even bother to learn his name of handle him things properly; having to prove himself every second passing and the excess of caffeine that only leaves him exhausted every single day when he gets home. He just hopes that one day all this tiredness will disappear and he’ll have one second to breath, people in his professional circle will respect him and clients will haunt him down, not the other way around.

It’s not like he’s a complete newbie, he has won some cases for the firm, every case that’s been handed to him actually, not very complicated ones, but still, he can handle child support and injuries cases, he’s good at it, but he doesn’t stand out for it. He’s trying, like he’s doing it right now, trying to talk in the middle of four seniors discussing a case and other three associates. They’re eating Chinese and even if he only wants to get home to watch Louis beat everyone in FIFA and then doing a fuss about it eating pizza or some other garbage, he’s too hungry to not pick up the box in front of him.

Harry keeps watching his phone and now they’re sending pictures and it makes him sad because he misses his friends and he hates being an adult. He remembers his conversations with Niall after graduation, when they decided to move in together, find a small apartment and then see what life has for them and Harry warn him, about the late nights and early mornings and Niall just smiled, because that’s him, that’s how he deals with problems, as they go, so he kissed him and made Harry relax for a second to look into his blue eyes and reminded him the reason he fell in love with him after the first week of the first year of university.    

He just wants Niall to be happy and he’s so scared of him getting tired of bored of these situations, it’s been eight months and Harry has come home to find him sleeping almost every night and has to get up before he wakes up, like they’re in some kind of love affair and not a six-year-old committed relationship. Harry wants to save money, he wants a bigger flat in the nice part of town, a bigger tv, some trips and then the ring, he wants stability before he proposes, he saw what the lack of money did to his parents’ marriage and he doesn’t want that or him and Niall, and he knows they’re not his parents, Niall has told him that numerous times, but the feeling stills there.

If he could, he would buy Niall themoon, the stars and the entire night sky.

And that’s when it hits him.

“The airs!” Harry screams, making everyone turn to seem him, standing up from his chair, holding the chopsticks in one hand and the noodles and chicken in the other hand, looking like a mad man in the middle of the night.

“Excuse me?” Asks Ronald Weiser, one of the seniors of the firm.

Harry looks around him and clears his head, leaving the food over the table and cleaning his hands on his pants.

“I think we should buy the airs,” he repeats, loud and clear, proud of the idea plotting in his head.

“If we could buy the Strike Industries airs, we wouldn’t be here,” Amanda Byres replies, not even lifting his eyes from her papers to look at him.

“I’m not talking about Strike’s airs but the Nicholson’s building behind,” and now he has his attention again but this time, they’re curious.

“They’re owned by the Robinson Construction firm, they won’t sell.” He hears Connor say, another associate next to him but he doesn’t have time to hate him right now as he does daily because he’s looking for a piece of paper everyone dismissed since the meeting started almost four hours ago.

“Not anymore,” Harry says, putting the paper over the table, right at the center so the attorneys in front of him could see it. “They sold two days ago to Burdon, they want to take the building down.”

The room in quiet for a couple of seconds before everyone stands up and starts giving directions and orders, picking up phones to make calls and yell to the other side of the line.

“Styles?” he looks up to Michael Bennett, his direct boss, he has a cocky smile on his face, like he just won something, “you can go home, get some rest.”

Well, that’s very thoughtful considering is almost eleven on a Thursday night, but Harry doesn’t complain, he picks up his briefcase and leaves the conference room before they could change their minds.

*

When he gets home and opens his door, he feels the entire day hitting him like a truck and his eyes almost close the second he leaves his briefcase on the floor and his keys in the table next to the door. He walks through the hallway only to find Liam and Louis sitting in the floor with a big bowl of popcorn watching a sappy movie as Niall lays all by himself in the couch, looking at his phone the whole time, he must’ve won FIFA this time.

Harry doesn’t say anything, he just melts into the sofa, taking Niall by surprise and dropping his phone in Louis’ face, making him yell and make a fuss. He hears Liam greeting him and asking him about his day, only to get a snarl as an answer. Harry hides his face into Niall’s neck and feels his finger caress his hair, letting a little whimper leave his lips.

“Did you just make that noise?” Louis’ voice is a numb noise in the back of his mind right now, so he just ignores him and dragging Niall into his arms, protecting him from the popcorn that is thrown to them.

“I missed you,” Harry whispers loud enough for everyone in a small place to hear, he kisses his neck and closes his eyes, letting himself rest since he woke up that morning.

Niall laughs, stroking his hair again, lulling him to sleep. “We’ve become the clingy couple that you used to complain about.”

Harry nods, holding him closer. “To be honest, I love those couples,” he says, smiling, “I was just trying to seem cool for the first few dates.”

“I know.” Niall pulls out to see Harry’s face for a second and leave a little kiss on his lips.

“Can you two shut up?” Louis says, “I’m enjoying this crap.”

[niallismymuse]

Chapter 4

A/N: Hey guys, I don’t typically do these, but I thought it was necessary since this chapter includes excessive alcohol use. Please do not drink like that in real life. Enjoy this chapter! It’s one of my favorites!

Lyrica whooped and wandered over to the TV on the coffee table, where she had set up her Bluetooth speakers. “I’ve taken the liberty of creating a special playlist for our very enjoyable New Years Eve party.” She informed everyone as they came back out to the living room. She hit play on her phone, and something with heavy bass immediately started thumping. “Let’s send off 2018 with a bang, people!”

Everyone cheered, Tessa included.

Tessa grabbed Niall by his hand and led him towards the liquor table. “Choose whatever you like, sir.” She said formally and chose a bottle of tequila to pour a drink for herself. She grabbed some lemonade from the fridge and mixed herself a drink as expertly as she could. “Want me to make anything for you?”

He shook his head and plucked a bottle of Stella Artois from the fridge, opening it with a twist of his hand. “I’ll take you up on that offer later, Tess. I didn’t know you were our own personal bartender.” Niall shook his head, looking half-amazed, half-amused. There was a quirk to his eyebrow that she took personal offense to – he looked toogood, cocky even. “I learn more about you every day.”

“I worked at a bar my senior year in college, actually.” She took a long sip from her drink, felt it burn all the way down. “You learn a lot in that sort of environment, including how to best be drunk. Now, come on. Let’s dance.”

Tessa made to drag him out into the living room, where the music was its loudest and Lyrica and Jess were already dancing together. Melody looked like she was about to start moving at any second, and Ryan…well, he was drinking, but sitting, which was quite normal for him.

Niall dug his heels in. “Woah woah, Tess, I’m not drunk enough for this.” He laughed, waving her off. “I’ll sit with Ryan and watch for now.”

She pouted, but he looked like he wouldn’t be swayed, so she nodded and went over to Melody. Together, they drank and danced and laughed, and the rest of the night passed in much the same way. They got more drinks together and, sure, maybe when Tessa was sure Niall was watching her, she moved her hips with just a little more va-va-voom. And, maybe, just maybe, she thought (or hoped), he was enjoying it.

When a particular song came on, one that made her heart pump harder and her blood sing through her veins, she let out a cheer of excitement. “Yesssss! Melody, get your ass over here!” Melody ran right back over, double fisting shots. She passed one over to Tessa, who downed it in one quick second.

And then she started to really move, backing her ass up right on Melody, who laughed in pure, drunken delight. Melody grabbed her by the waist, and Tessa crouched a little bit and began to twerk, laughing the whole time. She thought she heard a choking sound, and when she glanced over, it was Niall, coughing and sputtering on his beer, wide eyes locked on her.

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully and continued to dance, giggling and giving the beat everything that she had. She danced and danced and danced, eventually leaping away from Melody and slinking over to the drink table, downing yet another shot.

And so, the night passed, until Niall eventually joined her on what was supposed to be a dance floor but was really just a plain wooden floor with a rug thrown over it. The song was slow, and her mind was foggy, and she was just swaying from side to side in place. Ryan was passed out on one of the armchairs, Melody had managed to crawl into bed, and Jess and Lyrica were murmuring quietly to each other on the couch.

She felt a light tap on her shoulder, so she spun on her heel, but the action was too much for her body to handle. She stumbled and nearly fell flat on her face, but Niall caught her and pulled her flush to his chest.

Her cheeks flared red. They were face-to-face; she could feel his breath fanning against her cheek, see the blown-out pupils of his eyes mere centimeters from hers.

“Hi,” she choked out, her voice breathy.

“Hi. It’s, uh…past midnight. Happy New Year’s.” He replied, paused, and then straightened her up, taking a step back. Tessa mourned the loss of his body against hers, but he didn’t go far, and he kept his arm around her back. He was so warm. She blinked rapidly, looking at him.

“Happy New Year’s, Niall.”

He bit down on his lip, eyes flickering with hers. “I, uh…didn’t know you could…dance like that I can’t really dance…at all.”

Not for the first time today, Niall blushed, and looked down at the ground. It was cute.

“Aw, yeah, I can. But this isn’t the song to show you. C’mere,” she slurred, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Niall froze, body hard and unyielding against hers, but then he melted right into it and slid his hand down to her waist. He placed his other one on her other side, and she smiled at him gently. “Now, we sway.”

So, they did. It was sweet, and slow, and even when the song changed to something of a much higher tempo, they continued to the same rhythm, swaying and slowly moving around in a circle. Tessa rested her head on his shoulder, and after a moment, she felt his head lean against hers.

And she felt complete.

Seconds or hours or minutes later, someone coughed, and her eyes shot open. She glanced around, only to see Jess standing by the hallway on the right. She was staring, lips pressed into a thin line. “I would go to sleep, if I were you.” Then she turned around sharply on her heel and walked into her bedroom without a backwards glance.

Tessa sighed and pulled away from Niall, who didn’t seem to have noticed anything. She patted his back, even as she stood unsteadily herself. “It’s time for bed, tiger.”

He nodded, hardly opening his eyes, and she found herself smiling as she watched him, ruddy-cheeked and swaying like he was still dancing with her.

Tessa laughed softly to herself and led him down their hallway. She opened the door to his room and helped him into bed. The room was empty, since Ryan was snoring out on the couch, and Niall didn’t complain as she tucked him in. Once she was sure he was fine, she waved at him and sauntered off to her own room, not even trying to walk straight as she did.

Melody was already asleep on her side of the bed – they were sharing a queen-sized bed – and Tessa didn’t bother to change her clothes, she just climbed into bed and promptly passed the fuck out.

✩✩✩

Tessa woke up at noon with a pounding headache and a parched throat. She groaned, long and loud, and did all of the typical things she normally did in this scenario: foreswore drinking, promised to never go near tequila again, and then stumbled into the bathroom to clean her garbage-truck of a mouth.

Of course, those weren’t all truths. In fact, none of them were. Tessa could, in fact, recall having a good time last night. It was fuzzy, but she could remember dancing with Niall, too. The memory made her smile stupidly, toothbrush hanging out of her mouth and everything.

Since the bathroom was connected to her and Melody’s bedroom, she wasn’t afraid of being interrupted. She took a shower, let it restart her brain, and then got dressed. When she walked out to the living room, the only one who wasn’t there was Jess. She didn’t mind that.

Everyone else was seated, looking miserable and hungover, Niall included.

She sat down next to him. “Good morning,” she rasped, wincing at the scratchiness in her voice. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Happy New Year’s.”

Niall smiled, bloodshot eyes meeting hers. “Happy New Year’s, Tess.” He responded, voice soft and low as if he was trying not to wake anyone up.

Tessa took a quick glance around the room. No one was sleeping.

The other occupants grumbled a ‘Happy New Year’s’, and then they all sat there in regret, but with the expectation of doing the same thing that evening.

After sitting in silence for a few minutes and allowing the pounding in her head to ease (but not go fully away, of course), Tessa stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “Who wants breakfast?” she called out, and heads snapped up from their morose suffering. “I’m making eggs and bacon.”

“Tessa, you’re the best,” Lyrica half-smiled, shooting her a thumbs up. “Thanks, doll.”

She made a face at Lyr and strolled into the kitchen, methodically taking the eggs, butter and bacon out of the refrigerator. Something thumped behind her, and she turned to see Niall swearing to himself as he clutched his forehead. An open cabinet door swung inches from his head.

Tessa tried not to laugh. “Did you, uh…hit yourself in the head with the door?”

He glared at her, grumpy. “Yes, I did. Do you have anything to say about it?”

She pressed her lips together, eyes sparkling with mischief, and merely shook her head. She reached back into the fridge and pulled out a water bottle, handing it over to Niall. He looked down at it in his hand, puzzled, like he had never seen a water bottle before. She rolled her eyes playfully. “Drink it. You’ll feel better.”

Niall dipped his chin and screwed off the top, beginning to guzzle the water down. She started to fry bacon. They were quiet, just the sounds of the bacon sizzling emanating between them, when she decided to poke some more fun at him. “I thought you were Irish. Don’t you know how to handle your hangovers?”

She could feel his glower on her back and tried not to giggle. “I haven’t gotten drunk like I did last night in a long time. Even the other night when we went out, that was nowhere near as bad as last night was.”

Tessa flipped the bacon over, staring down at the frying pan instead of looking over at him like she wanted to. “Do you remember much of last night?” she asked curiously, but not overeagerly. She wanted to know if he remembered dancing with her or holding her close.

The silence stretched on for a few moments, something palpable stretching between them.

“Yes,” he answered quietly, finally, and Tessa turned to face him, a genuine smile on her lips. She moved closer to him, standing until she was almost chest-to-chest with him. Niall’s lips parted, and she tilted her head to the side. Did he want her to kiss him?

It seemed like it. He was scarcely breathing, eyes locked on hers before flicking down to look for just a nanosecond at her lips. It was hardly perceptible, but she noticed it.

Ah, she thought. So, this is the next part of our song and dance.

Tessa leaned closer, her hand coming up as if to caress his cheek. Niall’s eyes closed, and then she reached past him into the cupboard and grabbed a plate, before pulling back entirely and turning towards the bacon. She set the plate down hard enough for Niall to hear, and she grinned as she looked back at him, watching him blink hard and fast.

“Jesus, Tess. You’re gonna kill me, woman.”

Tessa reached for his mostly empty water bottle and drained it. She set it back down on the counter and smiled wickedly. “That’s the plan, Niall.”

✩✩✩

After everyone ate breakfast (including Jess, who mysteriously appeared once the food was finished cooking), no one made any moves to doanything but lounge about.

Tessa, who spent a lot of her time sitting while working, longed to do something. And when she looked out the windows, she saw a sprinkling of snow beginning to drift down from the sky.

She gasped. “Look! It’s snowing!”

She got up from her seat on the arm chair and ignored the petulant look Jess gave her, probably because Tessa was too loud for her poor aching head to handle, and went over to the window. Indeed, white tufts were settling on the wood porch, and they melted almost immediately.

Tessa hadn’t seen a lot of snow in her life. She was from Southern California, after all. She turned a beseeching look at her friends, pouting almost. “Anyone want to go play in the snow with me?”

Everyone said no, except for Niall, who was already steadily looking at her, hands folded neatly in his lap. “I’ll go out with you, Tess,” he said quickly, and stood up from the couch. “Let me just get my jacket.”

Niall disappeared down the hallway to his room, and Tessa stood there with another stupid smile on her face that was way to visible to everyone else. She wiped it off her face quickly and proceeded to open the front door up. A chilled wind swept inside, making her yelp. It was cold, but oh so refreshing.

Before anyone could complain about the door being open – and Ryan looked like he was about to – she stepped outside and shut it behind her. She was clad in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, which wasn’t warm exactly, but not exposing her to the elements either.

Tessa turned her head up towards the sky, and closed her eyes, letting the flakes settle on to her skin for a biting-cold second before melting to tiny specks of water on her face.

Snow wasn’t something she had much experience with. She lived in Southern California for all of her life, and while she had gone on vacations in the snow, she still appreciated it. Tessa imagined she wouldn’t enjoy it as much if she lived in it; but right now, with a faint dusting drifting down from the sky, she couldn’t imagine complaining.

The front door opened and closed behind her, and she turned to face Niall. He was wearing a snug hoodie, a nice royal blue that brought out of his eyes. But, strewn across his own arm was another jacket. She looked down at it and then raised her eyes to meet his, lifting a single eyebrow.

“I thought you might get cold,” Niall explained, and then grinned cheekily as he lifted up the hoodie. It was from his merch – the hoodie was tan, with the On the Loose symbol over the heart. “But I didn’t want to rifle through your own things, so I brought you one of mine.”

“Oh,” Tessa breathed out, eyes wide. “Thank you.” She took it gently, almost reverently, from his hands and pulled it over, but then paused halfway through. Still with the hoodie halfway over her head, she murmured to Niall, “Actually, I should give this back and go grab my own. I’ll probably ruin it somehow.”

She started to pull it off, but Niall shook his head almost frantically. “No, no, Tess, ya don’t have to worry about that.” He paused, and she saw, peeking out of the hood, him wet his lips. “I want ya to wear it. Also, I don’t know how you would ruin it in the first place.”

Tessa blushed, and without argument she tugged it fully over herself. It was a little snug, but it worked well enough, and it did keep her warmer. When she breathed in, she could smell him – sandalwood, a little bit of citrus, and that unidentifiable scent that she always caught whenever he was around. She didn’t know what it was, just that she liked it.

“Well, thank you,” she mumbled quietly, cheeks still burning. She had thought she’d gotten the upper hand in this flirt-fest they were having, but it seemed that Niall had moves of his own.

Tessa lifted her face back up to the sky, letting the snow hit her cheeks. She stuck out her tongue, catching a few flakes.

Niall moved to stand beside her, facing out towards the driveway before he too looked up at the sky. “I take it that you don’t have much experience with snow.”

She shook her head. “Nope. I’ve always lived in Southern California, but I’ve seen snow on vacations during the winter a couple times.”

Peeking out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Niall’s nose crinkled up. It was adorable.

“I’m not a huge fan of the cold, to be honest.” He stated, shoving his hands inside his jeans. “But this isn’t that bad. A little bit of snow won’t kill me.”

Tessa snorted. “You sound like an old man,” she pointed out, letting out a laugh.

Niall chuckled alongside of her. “I am one.”

They smiled at each other, and when the eye contact lasted a little longer than what was socially acceptable, Tessa glanced away. She was used to being the one to flirt a little – or a lot – but Niall really seemed to have stepped up his game since coming out here, and she had no idea what to do about it. It was like being away from the city and all of the expectations being there forced on him had freed him.

She was on untouched ground with him now, and Tessa knew that soon they would be approaching a line that couldn’t be uncrossed. She didn’t know what to expect on the other side of it.

So, she did what she did best: distracted herself.

“Come on,” Tessa murmured, carefully stepping down the stairs of the deck, “let’s go explore.”

Niall followed willingly, his footsteps crunching on the brittle and dead grass beside her. The snow wasn’t sticking; it was too warm outside for that. But, still, as she walked, she watched as the little white flakes hit the ground before almost instantly disappearing. It was entertaining enough, and this way she could keep herself from looking at Niall.

Though she could tell that he kept looking at her. She could feel his gaze on her.

They followed a trail, side-by-side, when Niall finally sighed and stopped in his tracks. “Well, Tess, if your plan was the murder me out in the forest, this would be the place to do it.” His tone was teasing, and when she turned to look at him, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Tessa pouted, playing along. “Well, drat. You’ve figured me out. I was going to shove you into the river and drown you. I guess we should go back, then.”

Niall laughed, a full-on belly-laugh, and Tessa couldn’t help but join in, laughing along at how stupid that was. “You’re an idiot,” she said endearingly when she could catch her breath, lips still curling up at the edges.

“And I think you’re brilliant.”

Tessa’s head snapped up. “What did you say?” she asked, disbelief coloring her tone.

Niall shifted on his feet, looking away before looking back at her. Nervous. “I said that I think you’re brilliant. And I really do. You’re brilliant, and creative, and funny.” He bit down on his lip, scuffing his shoes along the path. “I just thought you should know that.”

Tessa’s lips were parted. God, this man was going to be the death of her. “Well, Niall Horan, I almost don’t even know what to say. But I think you’re brilliant too.”

His responding grin was so bright it could have easily lit up the entire forest. There was no reason for the sun to shine, so long as he was grinning like that. “Thank you, Tess.”

She could hardly breathe from the weight of his words. Did he like her too? It was seeming more and more like that was the case – he had been flirting with her, he brought her his own jacket, and now he was saying these nice things to her. She didn’t know what to do. And when she sucked in a breath, she caught his scent, coming right off this hoodie. Like she had stolen it to wear herself, just so she could keep the smell of him around.

Tessa’s head whirled. She could see Niall moving a little closer, and, oh God, was he going to kiss her? Out here in the middle of the woods? It was romantic, she’d give him that, but she was unprepared! Had she brushed her teeth well enough? What if he thought she tasted like hungover garbage? What if he kissed her and decided he didn’t like her after all? Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Rationally, she knew she was freaking out and overreacting, even as Niall moved ever so closer.  They had been practically nose-to-nose last night. But that didn’t stop her from reaching out and jabbing him in the chest. “Tag, you’re it!” she screeched, and took off down the path.

It was a poor and desperate move, true, but it was the one she chose, nonetheless.

She heard Niall swear softly behind her, over the footfalls of her own feet, and she winced sympathetically.

Yes, I agree, Tessa thought as she kept running,why did I do this?

But after a moment, Niall raced after her.

They played tag for a little while, racing through the trees and along the path. And despite the fact that she had ruined whatever it was that he had been attempting to do, Niall played along. They had to stop once his knee began to hurt, and all of a sudden, they noticed it was darker outside than it had been when they came out. The sun had set.

With the promise of ibuprofen (for Niall) and wine (for Tessa), they set out back towards the cabin. The tension she had thought would occur was nonexistent – Tessa noticed that while they walked side-by-side, their hands brushed. Niall didn’t move further away, and neither did she.

She was good with this game of ‘almost’ that they were playing. Because once it wasn’t ‘almost’, it would be something. And that something could be good or bad – together or heartbreak. One of those options she could deal with, and the other she didn’t know how to comprehend, so ‘almost’ was a good place to be right now.

As Tessa marched up the front steps, she could hear music thumping dully inside. Their friends had gotten started without them. When she opened the door, she was greeted by the sound of laughter. Everyone was gathered in the living room, and Melody and Ryan were standing rightnext to each other.

Tessa, forgetting about Niall for a moment, made a beeline for Melody. She grabbed her by the hand and led her to a separate corner, while Niall tossed her an amused look and went to get himself a drink.

“You and Ryan were standing awfully close together,” Tessa pointed out, giving her friend a nudge with her elbow.

Melody blushed and giggled. “Well…while you were gone, Lyr and Jess took a nap, and Ryan and I…we, uh…went to bed.”

Tessa gasped. “Went to bed? Melody! No one even saysit like that!” She started laughing, bending closer to her friend, who was giggling right along with her. “So, you fucked.”

Melody paused, her cheeks a bright red, then nodded her head. “Yeah, we did.”

Tessa squealed, squeezing her friend’s hands. “It’s about time!” She knew Melody had had a crush on Ryan for forever, and they had been the sort of ‘will-they-won’t-they’ couple for about a year and a half. It had been driving Melody absolutely nuts. But this – well, it was progress, that was for sure.

“We’ll see where things go from here.” Melody smiled and lifted her drink to her lips.

She patted her on the shoulder. “I’m going to go change. This jacket is too hot inside.”

Still reeling with that new information, Tessa started towards the hallway that went to her room. God, did they fuck in the bed shewas sleeping in? Nose wrinkling at the thought, she jumped when she felt someone tap on her shoulder. She pivoted, only to find Niall standing in front of her, two drinks in his hand.

“I brought you wine.” He smiled at her, and she smiled so hard that her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you,” she replied demurely and gently accepted the glass he offered. “I’m just going to change my clothes. I’ll give you your hoodie back…thanks for letting me wear it.”

Niall took a swig of his beer before smiling softly at her. “Anything for you, Tess.” They stood there for a moment, eyes locked. But then Lyrica’s sharp laughter coming from the living room made her jump in surprise, and the moment broke. “I’m going to go change too.”

Tessa nodded quickly, cheeks warm for the umpteenth time, and then strode quickly into her room, the door shutting with a click behind her. She took a moment to breathe (and sip her wine, of course) – there was so muchgoing on, with her and Niall and this new development with Ryan and Melody, it was a little overwhelming.

After just standing there and feeling everything for a moment, Tessa calmly pulled Niall’s hoodie off and folded it on the bed. She changed out of her long-sleeve shirt and pulled on a tank top instead. It was too hot inside this cabin for sleeves, what with the alcohol and the body heat emanating off of everyone. She braided her hair back and stepped back outside of her room with the hoodie and empty wine glass clasped to her chest, just in time to meet Niall emerging from his own room.

She glimpsed, past his shoulder, the sight of rumpled sheets on the far bed from the door. She giggled quietly at Niall’s face – he looked a little puzzled, like he knew what had gone on but couldn’t understand it anyway.

“It smells like…something…in there…” he confided quietly, and Tessa had to smother her laughter against her hand, tears burning at the corners of her eyes.

“Something happened in there, Ni,” she told him, giggling despite trying to hold it back.

Niall shook his head mutely and chuckled. “Good for them, I guess.”

“Indeed. Here,” Tessa passed over his hoodie, felt their fingers briefly touch. God, every movement, every brush of their fingers, she felt it and she most likely overthought it. Niall probably didn’t even notice.

He smiled his thanks and ducked back inside the room to put it away, and Tessa started down the hallway to the living room. It wasn’t a very long hallway, but right before she became visible, she heard Jess talking, loudly.

“I mean, did you see the way she was looking at him this whole day, not even to mention last night?!” There was a scoff, followed by a pause, probably to take a sip of her drink. “She’s using him for fame. I’m sure of it.”

“Jess, you’re drunk.” That was Lyrica, her voice hushed.

Tessa could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears, uncomfortably loud and hard. The blood was rushing to her face, not out of embarrassment, but anger and hurt.

“Please. Have you seen her numbers lately? They’ve skyrocketed, ever since she was spotted out with Niall at the pub.”

Tessa pivoted on her heel and crashed right into Niall’s chest. She looked up and froze. It was clear by the pale, drawn look on his face, that he had heard just about every word that she had. There was this awful deadness in his eyes, and Tessa felt the food she had made for breakfast churn in her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, so she stepped past him and marched into her bedroom. She started throwing clothes into her duffel bag.

“Tess-“Niall started from behind her, but she cut him off, not even noticing that he had used his pet name for her.

“I’m going home.” She stated as calmly as she could, even as tears trailed down her cheeks. “I’ll Uber, Lyft, whatever, I don’t care.”

He sighed as she zipped up her bag. “I’ll drive ya home, Tess.” He said quietly, and she shook her head, not even sure what she was refusing – his offer or Jess’ earlier words. Both. Refusing one, denying the other.

“No, no, that’s okay. You have a good time.” There was a terrible ache in her chest, one that made her want to collapse to her knees and cry for a good long time. How could Jess say those things? Jess knew her – knew her down to the darkest pit of her soul. Or at least she used to.

Niall walked up beside her and placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Tess, I don’t want to be here without you.” He told her gently, expression so serious that it made her want to cry even harder. He didn’t believe what Jess said…did he?

“Okay.” She sniffled, nodding her head quickly. “Okay. Thank you, Ni.”

The smile he gave her was tight. She took a deep breath in and then slung the duffel bag over her shoulder. She took a moment to gather herself, breathing deeply in and out. She didn’t want Jess to see her tears. She didn’t deserve to, not any longer.

Niall murmured that he was going to pack his things up, and Tessa nodded quietly. She watched him walk out, and then, as determined as she could, she strode out of her room and down the hallway. Confidently, like she hadn’t heard anything, like her sense of self hadn’t just been destroyed by petty words.

Everyone grew quiet the moment she stepped into the living room. They stared at her, no one attempting to explain away anything Jess said. It was clear by the duffel bag strewn across Tessa’s shoulder that she had heard.

She ignored them, ignored the anger she felt bubbling up inside of her gut. How could they not defend her, even though it was obvious she had heard what Jess had said?

Tessa looked at each and every one of them. Ryan, Melody, Lyrica, and even Jess. She looked them dead in the eyes, and every one of them looked away except for Jess, who was clearly drunk off of her ass. She was swaying, eyes narrowed in a squint, plastic blue solo cup clutched tightly in her hand.

She broke the eye contact first and sauntered over to the alcohol table. There, she set her duffel bag down, unzipped it, and started to load up the drinks she had brought here. And then some other bottles, because she deserved them.

No one protested.

By the time she was done pillaging, Niall was waiting by the door. Tessa walked over to him, and right before she walked out, she looked back at her supposed group of friends one last time.

“Fuck you.” Tessa spat out, directly at Jess, and then whirled around and stormed out of the cabin. Niall shut the door behind them, and together they loaded up in his car, and drove away from Big Sur Campground.

It was getting late already, and they had a five-hour car ride to get through. Even so, Tessa couldn’t bring herself to speak. She was so full of rage and sadness that she didn’t know how to. She felt every single one of Jess’ words hit her again and again, stinging like a thousand papercuts all over her body.

Eventually, she managed to look over at Niall. Her eyes were blurred by tears. All she could see was the darkened profile of him, the same thing she had seen next to her on the balcony at Lyrica and Jess’ moving-in party. He was staring steadily at the road ahead, but she knew that he knew she was watching him.

“I’m not using you, you know.” Tessa whispered into the dark space between them.

His knuckles flexed on the steering wheel. “I know, Tess. I can always tell when someone’s using me, and I have never once gotten that feeling from you. Not once.”

There were so many words that she could have spoken after that, but honestly, she was too tired and sad to even attempt them.

Tessa just dipped her chin in acknowledgement and looked back out the window as he drove on.

join the taglist / talk to me about this / story page

taglist: @angryniall @stylishmuser @confusedkiwifan @irish-nlessing@takemedancingmaine @hap-ppy-days-van-ish-ed @stayclose-holdsteady @playboyxniall @savvyflowers @day-dream-niall@awomanindeniall @militrybarbi @klairelavarias @happilygemgem

[strawnarrries]

Niall Horan One Shots

Welcome to my Niall one shots masterlist! All my one shots are 1500 words or more and organized from oldest to newest! I hope you all enjoy reading and feedback is always welcome!

* means smut

+ means smut is mentioned

Request right here :)

Last updated: April 30, 2023

* Cocky - Niall’s the cocky, campus, player who knows just how to get a girl, including you.

* Cold Shower - It’s hot outside, but it’s even hotter in the shower.

* “Happy Anniversary, Princess.” - You celebrate your anniversary with Niall.

* The Coffee Shop / * Part 2 - You’re a manager at a coffee shop and Niall’s the cocky barista who gets what he wants.

* Sunbathing - Niall “accidentally” spills his water on you while you’re tanning and it goes from there.

* Honeymoon Sun - Honeymoon sex with Niall.

* Needy - You’ve been waiting to get Niall home all day, but when you see that his friends are over, you have no choice but to fix things yourself.

* Player / * Part 2 / * Part 3 - Niall’s the cocky, college player who gets every girl and you promise yourself that he wouldn’t get you but one situation makes everything change.

* Back To You - You and Niall have been broken up for years, but what happens when he convinces you to go on another first date with him?

* Tease - After teasing Niall all throughout his golf tournament, you finally get what you’ve been yearning for.

* Make It Up - You and Niall switch roles in the bedroom.

* Stuck - You get stuck in an elevator with your least favorite person on campus.

* Handsome - After an argument the night before, Niall decides to take you out on a well-needed date night to apologize.

Always Keep You Safe - It was a normal grocery shopping day until a man decides to not leave you alone and Niall has to chime in and save the day

* Bunk - While joining the 1D boys on their 3rd consecutive tour, Niall invites you to sneak into his bunk on the bus.

* Heaven - Niall is away in LA doing promo for his new single and you miss his touch.

* "Should've Picked Me." - You choose to be on another judges' team when trying out for The Voice and Niall makes you regret it.

* Dirty Book - Niall catches you deep into a romance novel and makes you forget all about it.

[justkccpdriving]

hi i have a lot of free time right now and would love some more discord 1x1s!! under the cut, i’m gonna put some plot ideas and some fcs i’d like to use in said plots. i'm open to m/f, m/m, f/f, m/nb, f/nb, anything!! so if any of this tickles your fancy, message me or like this and i’ll message you!

fcs i wanna use

sydney sweeney margot robbie robert pattinson bill skarsgard  oliver stark niall horan charlotte d’alessio kristine froseth kelsey calamine jack falahee dove cameron ana de armas tom ellis james mcavoy jake gyllenhaal matthew noszka

plots i want!!

-something based off of one of the following movies: legally blonde, how to lose a guy in ten days, uptown girls -a plot where muse a was married to muse b’s best friend, but then in some freak accident the best friend dies and in the time spent working through their death, muse a and muse b spend a lot of time together and lowkey start to fall for one another and it makes muse a feel so guilty and they’re both trying to reject these thoughts -”i want to have a plot where it’s ballerina/badboy and she has very strict parents and they force her to dedicate her life to dancing which she agrees to until she meets a boy who smokes a lot, gets into a lot of fights, and always has a cocky smile on his face. but she doesn’t mind because he makes her feel like she isn’t someone’s doll anymore” -college student on the verge of losing her scholarship and is broke and struggling going on a sugar daddy website as a last resort and oops there’s one of their professors on the site -any underground fighter/boxer plot -mumu based off of the show are you the one

[abunchofcrazyweirdos]

OOC:

If youre checking out my muses page: PLEASE Ignore my blank muses. I am redoing everything and it’s in the works. Here are my muses in case you’re wondering and would like to know who they are. I do have another page of muses that is perfectly alright. If you’re wondering who they’re FCs are I will let you know too. 

Noah Puckerman: (S1-6 or college).

Jake Puckerman: Womanizer of McKinley High School. Dancer/Singer.

Mason McCarthy: Twin brother to his sister Madison. He wishes that she would let him live his own life. He’s a cheerleader and singer.

Kitty Wilde: Head Bitch in Charge, her role model is Quinn Fabray. In Glee and a cheerleader.

Derek Hough: Lives to have fun and dance. Professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars. Passionate, Dedicated, and joker.

Kevin Matheson: Video game programmer, nerd, diligent, resourceful and sensible.

Brian Kinney: CEO of Kinnetik and owner of Babylon night club. Self-made millionaire.  He will often put his foot in his mouth, and say things without thinking

Riley Matthews: Ball of energy. Outgoing and Bubbly. Loves her family and friends. Will try something new even if she fails.

Lucas Friar: Moved from Texas to New York. Champion bull rider, compassionate, intelligent, noble, athletic and a gentleman.

College FC for Lucas

Farkle Minkus: Boy genius. Nerd. Loves school. The teachers pet and he rather be studying than out partying with friends.

Ashton Irwin:  Drummer for 5SOS. Aussie Native. Singer. Punk rocker, passionate.

Calum Hood: Bass player for 5SOS. Singer, Adventurous, Aussie

Luke Hemmings: Lead Singer, Guitar player for 5SOS. Dedicated and Aussie.

Michael Clifford: Vocals and Guitar player for 5SOS. Aussie, Punk rocker, joker, shy at times.

Harry Styles: . ¼ of One Direction. Singer plays piano and guitar. Cheeky, lovable, Baby Tarzan and curly.

Louis Tomlinson:  Joker. ¼ of One Direction. Singer. Guitar player and Piano.

Liam Payne:  ¼ of One Direction. Beatboxer, Singer, Batman (secretly) and Daddy Directioner. Lovable.Adorable, Puppy.

Niall Horan: Food lover. ¼ of One Direction. Drums, Singer, Guitar, Piano.

Zayn Malik: A former member of One Direction. The rapper, Singer, Doing my own thing, the tattoo artist.

Alec Lightwood: Shadowhunter, reserved, logical, charming, imaginative. Don’t mess with him. Overly protective of his sister and loved ones.

Billy Nutter: Punk, protective, impulsive, devoted, uncertain and sassy.

Nikko or Hunter Clarington: Singer, bad boy, adventurous, passionate and lives life to the fullest.

Oliver Queen: Athletic. The Green Arrow. Independent, Strong, hard-headed, stubborn and will do anything to save his family and friends.

Ethan Snow: Hard headed, bad boy with a soft side. Once his mind his made up, that’s it.  He won’t budge.

Trinity White: Sweet, lovable, warm, singer and a bookworm. Can be hardheaded at times.

Evie: She will always be in the library, or with a book in her hand. She is very driven and passionate. Very intelligent.

Felicity Smoak: Team Arrow. Graduate of MIT and a hacker.

Caitlin Snow: Bio-engineer for S.T.A.R. Labs. Easily hurt so she guards herself and her heart. Killer Frost

Steve Rogers or AKA Captain America. Kicking ass and taking names. Loves to have a good time and joke around.

Clint Barton or AKA Hawkeye. Sneaks up on you if you’re not careful. Will kick your ass if you get on his bad side.

Cisco Ramon: Mechanical Engineer at S.T.A.R Labs. Intelligent, joker, laid back and Vibe.

Clary Fray: Promising art student, intelligent, guarded. Shadowhunter

Cole Pendery: Member of IM5. Dorky, a child at heart and very lovable. Cuddly panda.

Jackson Whitmore: Cocky, competitive, has a lovable side to him. On the lacrosse and swim team. (Verse: Roy from Arrow as well)

Lindy Sampson: Born in Chicago now lives in New York City. Works at NYPD in the Cyber Crimes Division. Hacker, MIT Drop out. Quick to take the blame.

Tommy Calligan: NYPD Detective with the Cyber Crimes Division. New York City born and raised. Witty, Smart and tough.

Jake Bolin: Aussie born and raised but moved to New York for job. Lawyer. Has a temper and will snap easily.

Gabe Morales: Member of IM5. Bad Boy but lovable too. Cocky.

Iris West: Daughter to Joe West. Journalist, Graduate Student. Witty, Passionate, easily will defend friends and family. Brother: Wally West.

Jace Wayland: Determined, narcissistic, expert Shadowhunter.

Connor Walsh: Law Student. Sly, Sexy, Smart, Narcissistic

Veronica Mars: Private Eye. Will accept any job that is offered to her. Dedicated to her work, family, friends and partners.

Oliver Hampton: Computer Nerd and hacker. Falls in love easily. Has to learn how to guard his heart.

Logan Echolls: Known as the resident bad boy of Neptune. Does not apply himself, smart, sarcastic attitude,tough exterior but troubled inside.

Grace: Gentle. Kind. Positive outlook on life. Surfer. Sweet.

Mack: Leader. Smart. Confident. Determined. Surfer. Singer.

Aiden: Passionate. Driven. A leader. Smart. Hardheaded

Simon: Intelligent. Finds humor in any situation. Loyal. Vampire or Human

Izzy Lightwood: Kick ass. Comfortable in her body. Keeps people in check. Breaks rules, will speak her mind.

Image result for raphael shadowhunters

Raphael: Well-dressed. Handsome. Protective.

Image result for lydia shadowhunters

Lydia: Driven. Bad ass. Vulnerable. Harsh.

Image result for Magnus Bane

Magnus Bane: High Warlock. Glitter. Perfection.

Jason: Mechanic (Motorcycles)

Josh: Tattoo Artist.

Neal: Informant for FBI.

Image result for Jess Mariano

Jess Mariano: Writer. Smart. Witty. Hot-headed/Temper

Image result for Logan Huntzberger

Logan Huntzberger: Smart. Charming. Flirty.

Image result for machine gun kelly

Ty: Your typical bad boy.

Image result for tyler young

Tyler: Closeted gay. Foster child. Dad is MIA and Mom is sick.

Image result for brent antonello

Jude Kinkade: Vice President of Devils Basketball team

Zero or Gideon: Member of the Devils Basketball team.

Noel Kahn: Your typical charming guy with a bad side. Throws wild parties.

Wyatt Casey: Outsider. Likes to keep to himself mostly.

Diego: FBI Agent.

Barry Allen or Sebastian Smythe: Singer, Forensic scientist and Student

Danny: Hockey Player.

Mickey

Ian

Chelsea

Ben

Deran

Andrew

Jughead.

Jay

Thomas

Stiles

Ethan

Derek

Theo

Liam Dunbar

Corey

Mason

Pol. Student.

Buck: Firefighter. 

Ricky

Carlos

Aria

Marley Or Kara 

Chris

Moose:

Cami:

Sean or Eddie:

Andie:

Blaine Anderson: