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let-them-read-fics · 3 years ago

Text

Bite

Pairing: Vamp!Lisa x Human!Fem!Reader

AU: Vampire

Word Count: ~ 5,564

Warnings / Misc. -- Mentions of Blood

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm alive! School has kept me crazy busy and I've had my hands full with other things as well, but I finished writing this one and I wanted to share with you lovely peeps. To everyone who stopped by to check in, and to those of you who’ve been patiently waiting, thank you endlessly. I love having you as my readers 💜

PS ~ I hope this isn't too bad for my first one shot in forever! Also, happy Lisa era. I’m so proud of our girl!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Saturday, October 31st

You look like an idiot.

The nurse uniform you have on is obnoxiously cliché; short and tattered in various places to really sell the "sexy" aspect of it, little is left to the imagination. Fake blood stains dot the flimsy material in random patterns and mat some strands of the tacky blonde wig atop your head, making you look like something out of a B-movie at best.

A bonafide, absolute idiot.

When you express that sentiment to your best friend, she just rolls her eyes and holds out one last costume for you to try on. She had a few lined up in case you didn't like her other options, and clearly that's come in handy; you've already worked through the previous picks, so she crosses her fingers as your eyes skim over this one.

"Humor me, will you?" She asks, hoping that you'll give in and at least check this last one out.

"Fine, but this is your last chance. It had better be good." You raise a pointed finger at her in warning.

"I have a good feeling about this one," she says, smiling as you take the bag from her and slip into the dressing room one final time.

Her phone chimes soon after, and she's quick to retrieve it from her pocket.

Willow: Are you guys almost here?? Jackson's been asking about you.

Your best friend bites her lip at that, nervously nibbling on it as she rereads the message to make sure she didn't imagine the last part. She's liked Jackson since middle school, and he'll be swinging by the party that you've all been invited to; that's one of the main reasons she begged you to come with her tonight.

Y/BFFs/N: Still getting ready. We'll be there ASAP tho!

Willow: Alright, we'll see you soon. Don't take all night, or else👩🤛

Y/BFFs/N: Yah, cut the violence!

The sound of your best friend's soft giggling fills the air just as you manage to fasten the costume's last zipper and pull its hood over your head.

Surprise etches its way into your features as you do a spin, taking in the sight of yourself through the full length mirror of the dressing room. The outfit's red and black color schemes complement each other beautifully, giving you a powerful and sensual appeal that the other costumes didn't even stand a chance of doing. You look alluring in every sense of the word.

"Holy shit," your best friend says when you emerge, striking a pose. "You look hot!" She squeals, clapping a few times in quick succession.

There's no way you think this one looks bad.

"I think Wanda would be proud," you grin, tilting your head up and wrapping the cape around your neck.

"One hundred percent," Y/BFFs/N nods adamantly, in total agreement. The Scarlet Witch getup really compliments your features.

"Now," she starts, changing topics as she looks in the reflection of her phone's dark screen to adjust some of her hair that's gone astray. "Let's pay and then go. Willow's looking for us, and my future man's wondering where I am, too."

"Hell yeah!" You chuckle, patting her on the back. "I'll help you finally land him so you can stop pining."

You watch as she takes a moment to decide between coming up with a decent rebuttal to defend herself or agreeing with you, and you smile when she goes for the latter.

"I'd accept nothing less," she says, holding her head high like a princess. "You are my wingwoman, after all."

"And the best one in town," you add, tugging her towards the register. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the money to pay before politely handing it to the cashier.

The teenage boy takes it with a small smile, though the action looks a little comical as his upper lip gets caught on the cheap, plastic fangs he's sporting. His knock-off version of Dracula is definitely…. something… and you can tell that his managers forced him to wear it for the holiday.

"Come back and s-shhee us," he says, handing your change back. Your best friend takes it, failing to contain her laughter at his messy speech. He blushes crimson, likely cursing the plastic teeth for making him look a fool.

"We surely will," you respond, giving him a comforting smile to keep his embarrassment at bay. He nods gratefully, and you're quickly pulled out of the store by your best friend.

"Happy Halloween!" You shout over your shoulder, accompanied by the chime of the bell over the door.

"You too," he calls back, letting out a soft sigh.

---

20 Minutes Later -- The Party

Upon rounding the front of your car and stepping up onto the sidewalk outside of Willow's house, your attention is immediately caught by the numerous decorations that she put up last week.

"Huh," you mumble, gazing up at the skeleton that towers above you, standing 12 feet tall. "I think it's safe to say that this is her favorite holiday…"

"What makes you think that?" Your best friend plays, feigning ignorance as she pops up from behind a life-sized, animatronic Jason Voorhees.

"I don't know," you tut, admiring Willow's hard work a little longer. "Just a feeling."

Y/BFFs/N giggles in her unique way, making you smile at the sound as the two of you make your way up the path towards the house. You gaze down at your feet, careful to step on the stones of the walkway and avoid the motion-activated hands that scramble out of the weeds to grab unsuspecting guests.

Having known Willow your entire childhood, you've grown used to her ways.

*knock knock*

A strong, iconic synth bassline sounds off from inside, filling the otherwise quiet night around you with its catchy beat as you wait to be let in. Its sound is well known, and you almost instantly recognize it as "Sweet Dreams" by the Eurythmics.

A few seconds later, you hear clambering from inside, followed by concerning groans and shouted apologies.

Y/BFFs/N arches a skeptical brow at you, perfectly mirroring your thoughts.

Directly after, the door swings open in a flash, and you're nearly tackled by a whizz of curly hair.

"There you guys are!" Willow shrieks, pulling the two of you close as she nuzzles her face against your cheeks.

"Yep, here we are," you struggle out, nearly being strangled in her tight grip. She responds by squeezing you even tighter, blinded by her joy at seeing you again.

After all, it's been a while since all three of you have had the opportunity to spend the night partying together like this.

"Can't… breathe," Y/BFFs/N squeaks, successfully getting Willow to release you.

"Sorry," she apologizes, stepping back. "I'm just so happy you're here."

The freckles that spread across the bridge of her nose look especially adorable with the blush she's sporting, and her shy grin makes you forget about the near-fatality you just encountered moments before.

"We're happy to be here," you reassure her, returning her smile.

Your best friend agrees from beside you, nodding her head with a happy look of her own. "Believe it or not, we've missed your weirdness." She adds, cocking her head to the side.

Willow giggles again, and her eyes crinkle up into those half crescents that could surely melt even the iciest of hearts. She's practically sunshine in human form, and you have to resist the urge to shield your eyes.

"Yo, Willow! Who's at the door?"

Jackson.

You feel your best friend tense beside you, and you subtly pat her leg to calm her down.

Willow falls silent, though her lips go through the beginning stages of answering him; they open and purse, but she quickly halts her reply and shuts her mouth. She knows of Y/BFFs/N's crush on him, and she doesn't want to say the wrong thing.

Plus, if the lovesick girl wants to run and hide in the bushes, Willow's silence could buy her some time to slip away.

But alas, she doesn't.

Jackson appears in the doorway a mere 5 seconds after asking his question with a beer clutched in his hand. He moves to lean against the wooden frame as his pearly smile beams at you, and Y/BFFs/N audibly swallows at the sight.

For someone who's usually so confident, she can really be shy sometimes.

"Lovely to see you, ladies," he greets, putting his free hand in front of him as he bows. His accent is modeled after that of Jack Sparrow, as is his surprisingly well designed costume.

You nod back at him. "Hey, Jackson. Long time no see."

You elbow your best friend when she remains silent for a beat too long, and the action snaps her back to reality.

"Yeah, hey Jackson." Her voice is quiet -- she doesn't trust it to refrain from cracking.

He smiles, not failing to notice the nervous aura that's quickly taken over the girl beside you. Her eyes nearly pop out of her head when he gives her a curious once-over, and you take that as your cue to save her from the impending embarrassment that's lurking just around the corner.

"Alright, guys!" You clap, stepping forward. "Let's get to partying."

Her shoulders relax, and you feel her slip her hand into yours as you enter the house, squeezing twice as a silent thank you.

15 Minutes Later

Willow stands beside you in the kitchen, mixing a few things together in one of the millions of red solo cups that she bought for tonight. You sneak a peek over her shoulder at the concoction, seeing its light blue color turn purple-ish as she adds a new liquor into the equation.

In comparison to typical house parties, this one is relatively small; most of the rooms are filled with people, but it's a comfortable amount. Maneuvering around the place is fairly easy, which is always a plus when you're coexisting with sweaty, drunk people.

"Willow, love, why did you buy so many cups?" You ask, toying with the ripped plastic packaging of one of the stacks.

"You know I like to be prepared," she laughs, brushing off her major miscalculation. "Plus I can just use the rest of them at my next party."

You nod, knowing she's right. "Are you having another soon?"

"I think so. Jiu and her crew are coming back in a couple weeks, so I thought I'd surprise them with one."

You scoff, humor laced in the sound. "What, they didn't get enough partying done at their university already?"

Willow turns around, grinning at you as she hands you your drink. "Evidently campus police keep a close eye on them. Siyeon whined about that a lot when she called me."

"Sounds like her," you chuckle into your cup as you take a sip.

PFFT

"Eww, Willow! What did you put in this?!"

Your spit take didn't land on anyone, thankfully, but it did capture the attention of some people nearby. You wave a hand at them as a silent apology, and they go back to their previous tasks.

The curly headed prankster covers her mouth, though the action does a terrible job of quieting her maniacal laughter.

"You're lucky Y/BFFs/N isn't over here," you say, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. "She'd avenge me."

Willow uses a napkin to dab the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Why else do you think I waited until she was busy with Jackson?" She asks, motioning to her lounge room across the foyer.

You look inside, spotting Y/BFFs/N holding a pool cue in her hand as Jackson sinks another shot into one of the corner pockets.

The sight reminds you of the pep talk and 2 shots of liquid courage you gave her earlier, and how she disappeared with the promise to make a move and actually talk to him. Now, she looks completely absorbed in whatever banter they're sharing, and although your violated taste buds still ache from the sickly-sweet mixture that Willow made, you wouldn't want her to be anywhere else.

You can get your own revenge.

Sneaking a glance around the kitchen, you search for something to help with your retaliation. A small package of streamers lays abandoned on the island, forgotten to be put up earlier, and you slyly grin. Their ribbons sparkle with glitter, shimmering as the multicolored party lights stream in from the living room and land on them.

It's as if the universe is putting a spotlight on them, just for you.

After side eyeing Willow one final time to ensure that she isn't catching onto your plan, you act quickly. She stands beside the counter, right where you left her, and you dart to the island to grab the streamers. Your fingertips soon gain purchase on the packaging, and you tear it open in one swift motion.

Her gaze locks onto yours just as you near her, but it's far too late for her to get away.

"Take this!" You declare, upending the baggie atop her head. She shrieks as they cascade down her body, getting caught in the creases and wrinkles of her costume as they go. A small wave of glitter tumbles out of the bag as well, coating her hair and clothes.

Boy, that'll be fun to try and get out later.

Her head slowly raises once you finish your assault and place the baggie on the countertop beside you, but the look in her eye is unlike anything you've ever seen.

"You're dead," she warns. Just as the smile drops from your face, an even larger, more sinister one begins forming on hers.

The floor creaks beneath your feet slightly as you take a step back, and you know you have to high tail it out of there if you want to evade her.

"Catch me if you can!" You shout, springing into action. You turn around and dart out of the room, gliding past numerous partygoers in the hall.

Willow's choice of footwear works in your favor, you soon realize; the sharp rapping sound of her heels pierces the air behind you, serving as a tell of how much distance is between you.

Her unstable platforms buy you a little time, and you thank the universe as you rush through the living room and back towards the foyer. You plan to cut across it and hide out in one of the bathrooms until she drops her plan for revenge.

A grin pulls at your cheeks as you skid into one of the walls, looking like a character from Scooby-Doo as you will your feet to work correctly again and get you to safety. Willow laughs behind you, joining in on the fun.

"Perfect," you mutter under your breath, spotting a clear path through the foyer. It leads under the stairs, and you can see the open door of the bathroom from where you are.

Your feet take you past a handful of drunk people, bobbing and weaving through them with ease, before you're racing towards the restroom to take cover.

Before you can make it there, though, you collide with someone rather abruptly as they step straight into your path.

Your eyes shut tightly as you brace yourself for impact with the ground, but it never comes. The person reaches out and catches you before you can hit the floor, and a soft apology slips past their lips as they scoop you up.

Upon hearing that uniquely feminine voice speak its regret again, you peek your eyes open. What you see nearly makes the woman's effort to keep you upright moot; she's so gorgeous that your legs almost give out from underneath you.

Dirty blonde locks cascade over her shoulders in soft waves, half-mussed, half-pristine from your run-in. Her doe eyes are a velvety chocolate color, and you find yourself getting lost in them. Flickers of red show in them, illuminating almost rhythmically the longer she admires you.

Are those contacts? You ask yourself. They have to be.

She seems to be just as affected by your presence as you are of hers.

"Y/N, I'm coming to get you!"

Willow does her best to sound like a villain from a 90s horror film as she clambers her way closer to you, bumping into a few people on the way. You're brought out of your stupor by her rapidly approaching footsteps, and you take a step away from the woman. Her hands fall from your waist, where they had previously been resting.

Stealing a quick look at the bathroom, you feel your stomach turn.

Damnit. Someone's in there now.

Screw this sexy stranger for distracting you. Now you'll have to deal with Willow's wrath.

"What's wrong?"

There's that voice again.

Part of you wants to brush it off and slip away quietly, but an even bigger part of you is determined to stay where you are and tell her. Something about her pulls you in, and you're having a hard time denying it.

"I need to hide. I glitter-fied my friend and now she's coming after me."

The woman's plump lips pull back in a humored smile, and she nods as a chuckle leaves her. "Right," she says, like that's a common occurrence. "I can help, if you'd like."

"How?" You ask, your brows momentarily knitting together in confusion. When she unties and opens the black cloak that's wrapped around her body, your breath catches.

"You in?" She asks, side eyeing the foyer as Willow nearly careens into the Egyptian vase that her mother bought her last year for Christmas.

You take a deep breath and hold your hand out to her just as Willow rounds the corner, and she swiftly pulls you in close before you can be spotted. She winds the cloak around both of your bodies, concealing your faces as the fur-lined hood falls atop your heads.

Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around her waist and pull her flush up against you to further ensure your safety. She quietly grunts when she stumbles over her own feet, falling into you a little.

"Sorry," she whispers, though her third apology of the night is unnecessary. You almost want to thank her for what happened.

Especially when her warm breath fans across your right cheek, where her head is angled.

Every breath you take pushes you closer to each other, and the satin shirt she's wearing slides against your heated skin. She swallows thickly as one of your hands falls to the small of her back, testing the waters.

When she shifts a little to encourage you, you're acutely aware of the thigh that's worked its way between your legs.

When did that happen?

You bite back a sigh as she just smirks, quietly shushing you.

Willow thunders by, shouting your name and threatening to throw you into the pool when she tracks you down. You want to laugh at that, but you'd honestly welcome it right now. Some cold water would surely bring you to your senses after being led astray by this goddess in front of you.

Her footsteps grow distant as she makes her way outside, still searching.

The two of you remain as you are for a couple more minutes until you're certain that the coast is clear, and then you part. When she lowers the cloak, you look away; a deep blush has worked its way up your neck and across your cheeks, and letting her see it would surely make you die of embarrassment.

She keeps her eyes on you as she reties the cover around herself, attempting to get a read on you. The bashful aura that's befallen you is cute, no doubt, but she can sense your arousal. She can smell it on you, and the scent is beginning to drive her crazy.

You fiddle with the sleeves of your costume, readjusting them nervously.

"So, um… thanks," you say, sneaking a glance up at her.

The red hues in her eyes are even more pronounced now, and the sight makes you press further into the wall behind you -- the one that you were previously pushed up against.

"No problem," she smiles, showing off her pearly white teeth. Two of them catch your attention; a set of fangs now shine, looking alluring and threatening all at the same time.

There's only one issue: you're certain that they weren't there when you first bumped into her. When did she put them in? And why do they look so real?

The feeling of her hand landing on your forearm pulls you away from the millions of questions that're firing off in your head right now.

"May I ask your name?" She politely requests, dipping her head down sweetly.

"Y/N," you breathe out, quickly realizing that you'd do just about anything she asked you to.

"Y/N." She repeats, allowing the letters to blend in her mouth as they roll off her tongue. She looks satisfied for some reason as she says it again, trying it out.

"I'm Lisa."

"It's nice to officially meet you," you smile, reaching a hand out. Her touch is gentle but firm as she takes it, shaking it with ease.

"Likewise, beautiful."

The grin on your face only widens at the name, and you pull your hand away out of fear of what she might do next. She's already putting you under her spell, and you're sure that another touch would have you fully entranced.

She studies you with pursed lips for a moment, clearly debating on something. Her eyes flicker over the dips and curves of your body as a smirk grows on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" You question, curious but teasing.

"That I'd love to have your body on mine again."

She's bold, and she says it like the fact it is. No shame, no bashfulness. Just true, honest desire.

You bite the inside of your cheek at her bravery, silently thanking the universe for it. The likelihood of you gaining the courage to make a move is slim to none even in the best cases, and this was no exception. She already has your heart skipping beats and you've only known her a few minutes.

"How about a dance?" She suggests, quirking a brow. The look on her face disarms your defenses, and you take a deep breath before agreeing to your demise.

"That sounds wonderful."

She dips her head again, hiding her face away momentarily, and you think it's the cutest thing ever.

She's shy all of a sudden as her cool demeanor slips up a bit, and that never happens. You might just be her downfall, too.

She holds an elbow out and steps forward, allowing you to link your arm with hers and cuddle in close.

Her eyes scan across the living room as she studies it, but she's unimpressed.

Sweaty, winding bodies thrash around to some upbeat pop song that's been overplayed on every radio station in town for weeks now, and the idea of taking you there puts her off.

When a drunk boy comes into view with a dildo strapped to his forehead, her mind is officially made up.

"Let's go outside," she says, leading you through the patio doors.

A quaint gazebo sits on one side of the yard, and the dance floor that Willow's family installed a couple years ago occupies the other. Both are decorated with string lights in combinations of gold, purple, black, and orange. Other ornaments adorn the surfaces as well, and you smile when you spot a comically large spider sat atop the gazebo's roof.

"Where would you like to go?" Lisa asks, keeping her voice low. It's calm and deep, running a chill through you.

Softer music plays out here, offering a totally different vibe than inside. Some couples -- many of them introverted, assumably -- sway on the dancefloor as the DJ that Willow hired takes a sip of her drink on the raised stage. She adjusts a few switches slowly, not rushing for a second.

"Let's try the gazebo," you decide, glancing over your shoulder at Lisa. She's looking away, but you don't think anything of it as the two of you fall in step with one another on your way over.

Shit, Lisa thinks to herself.

Her plans to come to this party, feed, and make a quick getaway are totally derailed. She'd hoped to find a victim that she was attracted to but didn't like, if that even makes sense, and feed like the animal she is. Then she would leave them like all the rest, drained but still alive, and slip away.

But now she's met you, and any desire for those plans have been thrown out the window.

You interest her, and that doesn't happen often. She hasn't met someone who's been capable of doing that in years, and she's intrigued. Something about you just pulls her in, inexplicably, and she knows her feelings would be glaringly obvious if you saw her face right now.

"Woah, look at this," you sigh, stepping out of her hold to check the place out. A bench runs the perimeter of the gazebo, only stopping at the doorway, and the lights look even prettier from inside. They shimmer, looking like star showers as their strings hang down in the windowless openings of the building.

Lisa quickly learns that she loves seeing you like this. Your eyes are alight, and your sweet smile of wonder warms her heart. Her hands slip into her pockets as she eventually manages to take her eyes off you, following your lead as she admires the decorations.

She does a twirl, looking around.

"It's gorgeous."

"I know, right? This is totally up Willow's alley," you say, grinning at the mental image that you can conjure up of her giddily spiffing the scene up.

"I'll have to thank her for making it look so special, then," Lisa says, smiling. The place really makes you feel like you're in your own little world; everything about it is just right. The ambience, the decor, the company… it’s perfect, and Lisa's content with how the evening is playing out.

Her fingers skate down your arm as she nears you, trekking their way down to your palm. She takes your hand and spins you, watching with admiration as your hair flows in the breeze. Now facing her, you thread your fingers together around the back of her neck as she encircles your waist with her arms.

"Why have I never seen you around?" You ask sincerely, looking up at her.

She hesitates briefly. "My university is a few towns over. I just come here to visit my family every few months."

Not a total lie, she thinks to herself.

"And stop by terrible parties like this, of course." You add, smirking.

She shakes her head at that. "No, I can't say I do. I just decided to check this one out on my way to my friend's house." She explains.

Underneath your cloak, her hands find their way to the small of your back. One stays put while the other dips a little lower, testing the waters.

"And besides," she starts again, feeling you pull her closer. "Meeting you here automatically makes this an awesome party. Not terrible."

"Cheeeesy!" You scrunch your face up and groan, making her laugh.

"Maybe, but it's the truth."

"Sure, Lisa."

She shakes her head and you laugh lightly together, still swaying about. You hold her close enough to rest your head on her shoulder, and the pads of your thumbs rub small circles on the sensitive skin of her neck. She hums at the feeling, and you take note of the way she relaxes in your arms.

The night breeze appears again, performing a flowing dance of its own as it lulls past you in waves. A slight chill resides in it, mixed with a generous amount of the day's sweet, fading heat, and you're at peace.

The slow song that had been playing across the yard ends delicately, parting with some melodic feature that resembles a warm embrace, and it blends seamlessly into the next song.

Turning Page, you recognize it as.

Huh, how ironic. One of your favorites.

Lisa's lips brush against your cheek as she turns her head slightly, whispering, "I like this one, too."

How did she know? You ask yourself. You hadn't said it out loud…

Maybe she's just a good guesser. Yeah, that's gotta be it.

You feel yourself melt as she begins singing the words to you. It's hushed and sentimental -- meant only for your ears to hear, and that makes it even more special to you.

"If I had only felt the warmth within your touch"

She croons, pressing her cheek against your warm skin. You blush, catching yourself when you remember what the next line of the song is.

"If I had only seen how you smile when you blush"

She brings a hand up to cup your cheek in her palm, and her other arm remains around you, holding you tenderly.

"Or how you curl your lip when you concentrate enough"

Now, her thumb runs across your bottom lip. You look into her eyes and find them an even deeper shade of red than they had been before, but it doesn't frighten you for some reason. She glances down at your mouth again, fighting her impatience as she waits for permission from you.

"I would have known what I was living for all along"

You nod and lace your fingers in her locks, and she doesn't waste another second.

She leans in, humming against your lips when they meet hers for the first time. Her lipgloss spreads across them upon contact, smudging its precise application, but she doesn't seem to care in the slightest. She draws you in closer, and you bring both of your hands around to cup her face as you deepen the kiss.

Her mouth is welcoming against yours, and it moves languidly as you get adjusted to one another. Every move makes you feel dizzier than the one before it, and swarms of butterflies take flight in your stomach with no signs of stopping.

She nips at your bottom lip as her hands dip far lower than before, now kneading your ass as your kisses continue to work her up.

"Fuck," you curse, breaking away from her lips to catch your breath. She's stolen it all from you, and yet she's still not ready to give you a rest; her mouth drops to your jaw, embracing your skin there before moving down to your neck.

She doesn't realize how dangerous the game she's playing truly is until it's almost too late.

Her lips press to the area just above your pulsepoint, where she's learned over the years that blood pumps the hardest and tastes the sweetest. She draws it into her mouth, swirling her tongue over the area as her ears perk up at the breathless sound of your moans. They spur her on, and she nips at the skin, surely leaving a hickey.

Her senses become even more clouded when you say her name, the title caught somewhere between a whine and command, and she feels the strong impulse to claim you. The sensation is overwhelming, and she knows you can feel it too.

Your hands tug on the collar of her shirt as she lets her fangs fully extend, no longer suppressing them. They rake across your pulsepoint, making you shiver against her.

"Please…"

That's all you manage to get out before they pierce your skin, eliciting a whimper from you. Blood fills her mouth instantly, sliding across her taste buds in velvety waves and calming her constant craving. Your hands tighten in her hair, and the delicious twinge of pain that it provides only encourages her more.

Your blood is different than anything she's ever tasted; it's richer -- sweeter. A throaty groan leaves her as she savors it, and you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's addicting, but she knows she has to stop herself before she hurts you. If she continues like this much longer, she won't have the willpower to let go.

She retracts her fangs as she licks your taste from them, and then you feel her warm tongue clean the wound she made. It stings a bit, but in all the right ways.

When she pulls back to look at you, she finds your eyes half-lidded and a pleased smile on your face. It nearly kills her, then and there.

Her gaze flickers back to your neck to admire the hickie she made earlier, but what she sees surprises her. Below it is a darker, more prominent marking that she's only seen other vampires leave behind before.

Definitely not a hickie.

Your brows furrow as you look at her neck as well, noticing a faint outline of something growing darker by the second. Blinking a few times to ensure that you aren't hallucinating, you find that it's really there.

"Lisa, what's on your neck?" You ask.

"A soulmate mark." She responds, feeling a sense of belonging settle over her as she looks at you again. You just confirmed her suspicions by asking that.

"Same as yours," she smiles.

316 notes · View notes

toorusluvr · 4 years ago

Text

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ NASTY: OIKAWA TOORU.

characters: oikawa tooru x f!reader

cw: college au + cheerleading au (the reader is a cheerleader) shower sex + anger/jealous sex + degradation + exhibitionism + possesive oikawa + slight impact play + cunnilingus + unprotected sex + vaginal penetration + blowjob + oral sex + slight spanking + bratty reader (is oikawa a brat tamer? :p) + oikawa became loving and soft at the end ;)

wc: 3k

crossposted on my ao3 🤍

The sound of your teammates cheering snapped you out of your deep thoughts. Your mind was cloudy, filled with useless thoughts concerning the fight you were having with your boyfriend, Oikawa. Both of you got into a fight again yesterday. It's unfortunate when you needed his support the most on your important day. You were unsure what caused the conflict, but you did lose your temper, and so did he. Both of you are hot-headed sometimes, and it's not good for your relationship. However, both of you love each other and makeup after the fight.

But yesterday was different. This is your first time fighting with Oikawa before your big day. Today's event is vital to you and your team to make it to the next qualifier a month from now on. You sat on the wooden bench, fidgeting your fingers before you went out to the field and started performing. One of your closest friends in the team approached you after she saw how restless you looked. "Hey, we are gonna go out in 5. Are you okay?" Her eyebrows stitched when she saw how cold your hands got when she touched them.

You looked up and saw her concerned face. A small smile formed on your lips, "Yeah, I'm fine. Let's go if y'all are ready." You got up from the bench and forgot about your boyfriend for a moment. You had to do your best to make it to the next qualifier.

Oikawa made his way in the crowds filling the bleachers. Even though he was in the middle of a fight with you, he would never forget your important day. He wanted to see his princess doing their best and made it to the top, just like he does. Oikawa knew his support means a lot to you, hence his presence today. Being in a fight will never stop him from supporting his girlfriend.

He sat in the bleachers, ensuring it's close to where you'll be performing soon. And he made sure you'll see him rooting for you in the bleachers. He's proud of you nonetheless.

The loud cheer from the crowd let him knew that his girlfriend's team would start performing. A familiar remix of Nasty x Body Party started playing and blasted all over the booming system around the huge field. Oikawa's eyes landed on you, right in the middle of your formation. You seemed not to have noticed him into a few seconds of the song. He looked at the short skirt you were wearing and the skintight top. God, did you look so stunning in his eyes.

At this moment, you knew too damn well the choreography for this remix is sexier than any other choreographies your team had for the previous months. Since you made the co-captain, your sidekick let you know how sensual and flexible choreography can dominate your team's dynamic movements. The song mixed well with the choreography.

Oikawa watched every inch of your body moved along to the rhythm of the song. His heart feeling nervous at how the boys were ogling your body and how badly he wanted to throw punches in their faces.

You looked at Oikawa in the bleachers, making sure he watched you every second of the passing time. The gaze he was giving you felt different than any other day. The loving gaze has now turned into a gaze filled with lust and anger. You flashed him a cocky smirk before your presence dominated the entire performance. Standing in the middle of your cheerleading team, you let the crowds clapped while praising your team endlessly. After the noise subsided, you made your way to the locker room.

A few of the football's guys surrounded you and your team, making it difficult for you to get past them. You pushed them away with a loud grunt, "What the fuck. Get away from me, you weirdos!" Your friend saw how infuriated you were, so she let you cooled down first before nearing you in the locker room later.

You walked furiously to the locker room, and just before you pushed the door open, a pair of hands quickly pushed you inside the locker room. All words have flown out of your mouth the moment you felt the familiar touch. Oikawa. Why is he here in the female's locker room? Couldn't he wait for you after you're done cleaning yourself up?

Oikawa led you to one of the shower stalls. He pushed your back against the cold marble tiles. "What the hell are you doing here, Oikawa? This is the girls' locker room. Get the fuck out of here!" you grunted while trying to break free from his tightening grip. "Let me go, Tooru! It hurts!" you cried out in pain. You could feel your wrist started to be in pain.

"Did you enjoy being the centre of attention? Did you enjoy the fucking nasty looks the guys gave you?" he spat out in your ears. His heart raced when his mind started to recall the events from earlier. How fuming mad he was when he overheard the guys' disgusting conversations about your cheerleading team. He wished to destroy them all. How dare they said that to his own fucking girlfriend? And they had the audacity to think they could have you? Assholes.

"Tooru! What the fuck are you talking about? Please let me go!" you begged. "What are you doing here? Please leave. They are going to come in soon!" you cried. The thoughts of your teammates caught both of you in the shower room together scared you. Oikawa's not supposed to be in here, yet here he was.

He ignored your pleas. "Oh, my angel, don't you care about how infuriated I was? How you turned me on with your choreography? And these outfits? Oh, baby, you should have known better" his hands snaked around your waist. He turned your body around so you could face him and see him straight in the eyes. He wanted you to know that he owns you, and no one else can.

Oikawa's brown orbs stared directly into your soul. Your expression right now is priceless. He loves how much control he has over you, especially when he's mad jealous. "Did you know what you just did to me, babe?" his fingers trailed over your smooth skin and your chin. He lifted your chin using his index finger before he lightly slapped you across your face.

"I got hard while you were dancing your ass off in the field. How does that sound to you, hm?" he whispered in your ears. Before you could open your mouth, the sound of your teammates cheering filled the once silenced locker room. "Shush, baby. We wouldn't want them to know, right?" he kissed you tenderly on the lips. "Turn on the shower, baby", Oikawa commanded.

You gulped, knowing too well where this is about to go. Oikawa stripped off his clothes and hung them neatly on the hook. When his right hand about to touch you on the face, you heard a bang on the door of your shower stall. "Hey Y/N! Are you in there?" you heard the familiar voice of your friend asking you from outside. Your lips trembled, eyes dilating when you turned to look at your boyfriend.

You cleared your throat, "Y-yeah, I am in here. I'm fine, don't worry. I need some time alone. You guys can leave first. I'll lock up later!" Your hands shaking when Oikawa touched your angelic face.

Your friend heard the shower running and shrugged her shoulders. "Mmkay if that's what you said. They're going to shower first before we head out. I'll let you know when I'm about to leave, though!"

"Okay!" your voice seemed small and terrified if they ever found out about Oikawa's presence in the locker room. You heard your friend's footsteps disappearing in the distance before the shower stall next to you started running its water.

"Now we can talk, hm?" Oikawa sucked on your sensitive spot just below your ears. A small gasp escaped your mouth when he nipped on your neck. You were sure he's gonna leave a lot of hickeys all over you by the time you guys are done. This is just the beginning to him, after all. Oikawa's lips travelled to your clothed breasts before his hands took them off of you.

You raised your arms higher for him to undress you. His large hands palmed your half-naked bosom. His slender fingers trailed over every inch of your skin before he inserted them in your beautiful mouth. "Suck", he commanded. You did as he told. Your lips wrapped around his two digits as your eyes followed his movements.

Oikawa pulled down your short skirt. The feathery touch of his fingers against your thighs made you shivered. You whimpered as you felt your whole body is soaked in water. Oikawa's wet hair made him look a thousand times attractive. He flashed you a cocky smirk before he crouched down on the ground. He spread your legs wider and touched you on your dampened cotton underwear.

"Mhm, my baby is always soaking wet", you heard he mumbled softly. Your fingers buried in his soft brown locks while he was savouring your taste. He pulled down your underwear and let it pooled around your ankles for a while. His pretty and pink lips started kissing your inner thighs that made you whimpered like a bitch in heat. "You're always so beautiful for me, love", you heard him said.

You felt his hot breath fanning over your core. He used his force to spread your legs even wider to bury his face in between your legs. "Beg for me, princess", he growled. His fingers toying with your slick folds. "Beg for me like the little slut you are", he spanked your thighs. And when he watched them jiggled, it only turned him on even more.

"Shit", you mumbled under your breath. "Please, Tooru" you made sure not to let anyone outside heard your voice. You were very cautious, but Oikawa did not. He smirked cockily, "Not loud enough, slut."

His fingers stroking your slick folds up and down, collecting your juices with his fingers to continue teasing you.

You let out a breathy moan. "Tooru, please. Fuck me like the little slut I have always been," you begged. You would have been so embarrassed if any of your teammates actually heard you begging to be fucked like a slut. "Please, Tooru. I promise I'll be good."

Oikawa let out sinister laughter. "Oh, my little slut. This pussy misses me that much?" He inserted his two slender fingers into your dripping cunt. You yelped at the sudden stretch and accidentally let out a loud whimper. You put a hand over your mouth as you rested the back of your head on the cold marble tile.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you agonizingly slow that you had to bite your hand when his pace started to build your orgasm. "Mmph", you muffled your moans with your hand. "Ah- Tooru", you whimpered. You looked down at Oikawa, who gave you another smirk. He pulled out his fingers and replaced them with his tongue. His tongue laid flatly on your pussy, and you felt a long stroke of his lick.

Oikawa tilted his face to get better access of his tongue on your dripping cunt. His tongue gladly lapped every one of your sweet juices. Before he buried his tongue even deeper, he mercilessly toyed with your clit. You bit your lower lip as your orgasm slowly building up. "Tooru, I'm so near" you let out another breathy moan. He kissed your clit before switching his tongue to his fingers.

His thumb rubbing circles on your clit to stimulate your orgasm. "Ah- please, please please", you begged with such a small voice that sounded so pure yet sinful in his ears. "Moan, my fucking name, princess", he grunted.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Please, Tooru. I'm so near. Please.."

Oikawa rubbed on your bundle of nerves to the right rhythm that made your legs shake afterwards. And when you felt it coming, a loud gasp escaped your pretty mouth. You immediately covered your mouth while Oikawa smirked, seeing you being in a guilty pleasure.

"Hey, are you okay?" the person next to your shower stall asked out of concern. Your heart racing to the thoughts of being caught by your teammates.

"Y-yes, I'm fine. The water's just boiling! That's all!" you lied through your gritted teeth. You stared into Oikawa's eyes, "Please. We can't get caught in here."

Your pleas have never sounded so desperate. Were you that terrified? That only drove him to make you scream his name louder. He scoffed, "As if that's my current concern, baby. I don't fucking care."

Oikawa's stubborn, that, you have to admit. He's one cocky bitch, but what can you do? Ask him to leave when your cunt was begging to be impaled by his pretty cock?

You grunted softly. Your hands on both sides of the shower stall as you let out another deep sigh. "Fuck it. Tooru, get the fuck up," you said. Oikawa smirked when he knew what's your next move. He cockily laid his bare back against the cold marble tiles. He pushed his damp hair back to have a better view of his girlfriend about to give him head. You got on your knees and situated your face in between his legs.

Using your spit as the lubricant, you stroked his hardened member with your bare hand. Oikawa hissed at the sudden contact with your hand. And when your finger brushed over his slit, he let out a small moan. "Fuck, princess, if you messed this up", he threatened you. You rolled your eyes at him and started licking his cock up and down.

Your mouth has never felt so warm like it did at this moment. The beautiful look that's plastered across your face made him wanted to ruin you even more. The running water concealed the sloppy noise you were making while sucking your boyfriend's pretty cock. His girthy size made your jaw ached but did it hurt you so good.

Oikawa's hand kept on pushing your head down on his cock, eventually making you gagged. "Mmph!" Oikawa heard the muffled noises you were making. He couldn't simply care and continued pushing your head down. "Suck my cock, slut."

He's a pretty moaner, and the soft grunts coming out of his mouth sounded so pleasant to you. You could never forget how beautiful the noises he makes. You saw his face contorted with pleasure, eyes squinted, and his lips squirming. You scoffed, knowing too damn well that he's near, and you were doing a good job. Your free hand rubbing his inner thighs up and down crucially slow to help him to reach his climax faster.

When you felt his cock twitched in your mouth, you took his cock out with a loud pop. "I'm- fuck- I'm coming", Oikawa grunted softly as his hand tugged on your hair. You used your hand to pump his cock to help him finish. Before you knew it, his hot and thick spurts of cum landed on your face. Your eyes shut closed when you felt it hitting your face.

"Angel, you look so fucking beautiful", he praised you with his thumb caressing the sides of your face. He helped you to get up and cleaned his cum off of your face. "I have to reward my angel for being such an obedient slut for me today, hm?" he pulled your waist closer to his body. You gave him a flirtatious smirk, "You can do better than that, Tooru. Come on."

He scoffed, "And now you think you're in charge? Who the fuck do you think you are, slut?" he gave your cheek a harsh slap. The sound of the slap shocked everyone in the locker room, but they thought it was nothing, just the sound of people showering. You winced in pain, "Tooru, fuck that hurts."

He smiled in satisfaction. Oikawa pushed you against the cold marble tiles once again, turning the shower to maximum pressure. The water hitting his back and your naked body. He fondled your breasts with his bare hand before twirling your hardened buds with his index and thumb. You cried out in pleasure, begging him to go faster in your mind.

"Tooru. I need your cock. Please," you begged shamelessly. Oikawa laughed sarcastically before he attacked your lips with his. When his possessiveness takes control over his mind, he easily forgets to show you that you are loved. He forgot to kiss you and reminded you that you're lovely and beautiful today. All because his jealousy took control.

"Damn it. Sorry, I was harsh," Oikawa whispered in your ears after kissing you passionately. He caressed both sides of your face. His lust-filled gaze has now turned loving and softer than before. He kissed your forehead, "Sorry, baby."

You felt even guilty because you didn't say sorry before things escalated quickly. You grabbed his hands and squeezed them firmly, "It's okay, baby. We'll talk after this, alright?" You gave him a sweet smile, and it felt so nice to see Oikawa smiled again after being in a rage.

Oikawa gave you a quick nod before nudging your legs with his. He spread your legs wider so he could have better access. Spitting on his palm, he stroked his cock a few times before thrusting into you. You yelped when the stretch burned, but Oikawa shushed you and gave you time to adjust to the size of his cock. Your stretchy walls swallowed his cock with ease. "You can move now" you smiled bitterly.

He assured you with a sweet smile as his hips bucked into you. You slightly threw your head back when the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting your g-spot deep inside you. You clawed on his flexing biceps. Crescent shapes started to appear on his fair skin. "Fuuuck, Tooru", you let out a staggered moan. "Harder", you begged. You threw your hands over his shoulders and made eye contact with him.

Oikawa placed another soft peck on your lips before thrusting back into you harder as you requested. With another sway of his hips, you matched your rhythm to his to ensure both of you got the climax you guys longed for. He alternately caressed the sides of your face to playing with your clit to make you cum faster. His other free hand squeezed around your throat, and you were such a good girl for him. Taking his cock so well and obediently.

"Fuck, you're so hot", he whimpered. He looked down to where his cock was swallowed by your pretty pussy. Oikawa slammed his hips inside of you again, making you screamed in pleasure. Your hands ran down on his back before scratching on it while your mind was clouded with indescribable euphoria. "T-tooru, it's too much", you moaned.

Oikawa bit on your shoulder when he felt he's so close to releasing his cum inside of you. He knew you were close when your tone changed, and he kept on rubbing on your clit. You chanted his name like a prayer, asking him to go harder on you while his finger overstimulating your clit. "Hm- please please, please, I'm so fucking near. God-" your incoherent babbles stopped when you felt your orgasm washed over you.

You let out a breathy moan after you finished. Oikawa looked at you and smirked, "Fuck- I'm near", he grunted softly as he slowed down his pace. You could feel his thick spurts of cum painted your insides. He buried his face in the crook of your neck after he came. You kissed the top of his head sweetly before cupping his face in your hands.

"I love you so much", you heard him said out loud. Oikawa's soft gaze looked straight into your eyes, and he kissed you on the lips tenderly. "I'm sorry for the fight we had yesterday. It was immature of us. Today's your important day, and I just had to ruin it."

You shook your head gently, "No, no, no, Tooru. It's our faults for acting like kids. We should have talked about it like adults. I promise we'll talk about it after we clean up and get the hell out of this place, yeah?" You chuckled lightly when you saw his lips slowly forming into a smile.

He nodded, "Yeah, let's clean up." Oikawa then helped you clean up, and only he came out of the shower stall fully clothed. You looked around the empty locker room. How long were you in there with your boyfriend? There's no way they would listen to your moans, right?

You dried yourself and put on comfortable clothes you stored in your backpack. You checked your phone and saw tons of messages from your friend. Your eyes widened upon reading her text messages. Oikawa peeked over your phone and laughed. "They caught us, huh?"

"I know you're in there with Oikawa. I saw he got into the locker room before we got in. Thank goodness I was the only one who saw him."

Sent 6.48 p.m.

"For fucks' sake, Y/N. Keep it down. The whole room can hear you. What the fuck."

Sent 7:09 p.m.

"We all just laughed and pretended nothing happened. God, you guys, are a disgusting piece of shit. Get a room, fuckers."

Sent 7:15 p.m.

"We're taking our leave. Don't forget to lock up. Oh, yeah, don't forget your birth control, bitch. Nasty ass bitch. Gross. Text me when you're done. ASAP!"

"Jk. Text me when you're home safely."

Sent 7:31 p.m.

You brought your hands to your face. Your face turned hot in embarrassment. Your greatest fear had just become real, and everyone in your team now knows how nasty you are. "God, Tooru, please, we can't do that again," you said silently. You bit on your fingers because you were so embarrassed by what had just happened.

Oikawa let out breathy laughter, "And I'll gladly do it again." He relaxed his tensed shoulders, "Relax, baby. They won't judge you, trust me. Let bypast be bypast."

You looked at him in disbelief, "Bypast your head!" you gave him a knock on the head.

He laughed when you got mad at him. "God, I am so in love with you." He grabbed your hands and squeezed them firmly. "It's okay. They won't judge. Trust me, baby. Now, let's lock up and send you home."

The following day, your team gave you a questionable look on their faces. They teased the heck out of you, especially your friend. God, you have never been so mad at your boyfriend for ruining your image. But, it's a risk you're willing to take.

"Nasty", your friend teased you by poking your sides. You chuckled, "Yeah yeah, whatever."

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu smut #oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa smut

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xandria · 4 years ago

Text

𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕦𝕡 — Bokuto Koutarou

contains - oral (m!receiving) + teasing + praising + needy!bokuto + switch!bokuto + dom!bo at the end + slight dom!reader vibes

wordcount - 2,042

summary - you didn’t know why your boyfriend was upset, he wouldn’t tell you! good thing you know just how to get your big pretty man to open up <3

There’s one sure-fire way to fix grumpy Bokuto, and that’s to fuck him.

Or, in this case, since you’re in the car on your way home, road head.

He’s pouting severely from his position in the driver’s seat and has met all of your positive advances and concerned questions with gruff one-word answers.

You sigh, fine, you figure, you know how to solve this.

You stare at your boyfriend, the angry grip of his fist on the wheel has you eyeing his large veiny hands, and the other fist tucked under his cheek as he leans on the door has you staring hard at his plush, pouty lips. As frustrating as his grumpy mode could be sometimes, you had to admit, sometimes it was stupidly cute.

Especially when you first start to seduce him, and he desperately clings to his bad mood for as long as he possibly can (spoiler alert: not very long). Seeing the blush involuntarily overtake his cheeks and the strain of him trying his hardest to keep his lips pulled into a frown was intoxicating.

And then, the delicious final breaking moment when grumpy Bokuto disappears entirely, and one of your favorites replaces him- needy, horny, touch-drunk Bokuto. Fuck, you loved him like that. Absolutely weak for your touch, he’ll beg and whine until he gets what he wants, you, and then will praise you endlessly for your good work. When he’s drunk off of you like that, high off your every move, he is ridiculously vocal in his pleasure, and physically responsive, never able to keep still, his strong hands always grabbing at you greedily in any way he can.

You are nearly drooling in your seat, sitting there picturing your very clear goal of ruining the pretty, angry man in front of you. You sat there fantasizing of what was to come, your none-the-wiser boyfriend staring hard at the road. If he had only turned to see the sultry, drooling stare his girlfriend was giving him through hooded lids, he may have immediately pulled the car over.

“Kouuu,” you muse his name with an enticing hum, unbuckling your seatbelt. He chooses not to notice, keeping his eyes on the road as he grunts in response.

You lean across the middle dash, coming closer to his face, he still doesn’t turn.

“I’ll give you a reward if you stop being grumpy”

“Whatever,” he scoffs. Yep, holding tightly to his bad mood. Oh well, you smile, it just makes the next part all the more satisfying.

You lean in close, your breath on his skin raising goosebumps he tries to ignore, you lightly press your lips on the soft spot of his neck, right beneath his ear, and he tenses.

“Are you sure?” You hum, your tongue making slow contact with his sensitive skin, causing him to shiver.

“Even if the reward is... road head?” You coo, just as you lightly bite at the already red skin on his neck.

His response is positively delicious, you can feel heat and confliction pouring off of him. His primal side tenses and clenches his fists at the thought of your pretty mouth working its magic, while the stubborn, angry side of him huffs and turns his head, refusing to let you see the blush you brought to his cheeks.

“What?” You smirk at his turned face, peppering open mouthed kisses on his now protruding jawline. “Do you not want it?” You run your hand across his taught chest, moving it up to the side of his neck to turn him towards you, not yet facing you, but just enough that you can graze your lips against his ear as you whisper, “I’ll only give it to you if you want it. You have to ask for it,”

He shudders, a breath catching in his throat as you slide your hand back down his chest, running your nails slowly over the abs under his shirt, before teasing the waistline of his pants. At this point, he’s practically a mess trying to keep it together, his previously pouting lips now parted in arousal, his face red and hot and his resolve wearing thin.

Your fingers tease the elastic of his shorts before you slip a hand inside, just over his briefs, purposefully palming his clothed erection with excruciating delicacy. You trace your fingers up his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace, and he inhales sharply.

“But, if you don’t want it,” you say, suddenly caressing his cock with more pressure, gripping it firmly as you slide your palm back down it, just knowing you’re about to get that delicious confirmation you’ve been waiting for. It erupts from his mouth in a deep whine that makes your cunt ache.

“F-Fuck, I want it babe. I want it so bad.”

A triumphant grin spreads across your face, and you return your lips to the tender skin on his neck.

“Yeah?” You hum against his skin and finally slip your hand underneath his underwear, wrapping your fingers around his cock. He moans at the sudden feeling of your skin finally touching his.

“Tell me what you want, be sure to ask nicely.”

His response is instant, a guttural groan behind his desperate and needy tone.

“Please, give me road head. Ahh shit, that sweet mouth of yours. I need it.”

That’s all you needed to hear to pull his member free from its strained place in his briefs, holding it teasingly with your fingertips. Lightly kissing the tip, you trace the tip of your tongue along the ridge with ghosting pressure, purposefully only giving delicate touches that frustrate him beyond belief.

He is a panting mess by the time you finally put your lips around his aching dick, but you only take the head into your mouth, not a bit further. He grunts in protest and, whether involuntary or not, bucks his hips up in an attempt to push deeper in your mouth.

You, however, knowing good and well your overzealous lover, saw this coming, and pulled up from him just before, using your forearm to hold his lap down.

“Ah, shit, Come on... t-take it all,” he groans, and it breaks in a whine, a pout forcing onto his aroused features.

“Uh uh, grumpy boyfriends don’t get to be impatient. I’ll take you as slowly as I want,” you smile, and to add insult to injury, you slide your tongue up flat against him, from the base to tip, and he sputters out your name like a curse.

Satisfied with his suffering, you pop his head back in your mouth and slide your mouth down all the way to the hilt, hollowing out your cheeks. Holy fuck, was he a mouthful. He responds immediately with verbal affirmation, like the perfect partner he is, a guttural moan of “Good” pulling from his throat, the hum of his baritone going straight to your cunt.

“Holy fuck, y-y/n, you look so fucking perfect right now.” He reaches one hand over to grab firmly at your ass, light-headed at the sight of you bent over the middle console for him.

You pulled up from him quickly, and the sudden lack of contact mixed with your stern, dominant tone made him whimper, “Watch the road, both hands on the wheel, or I stop.”

His hand darted away from you, the sudden sound of fists tightening around leather making you grin as you returned to your good work, bobbing rhythmically up and down his thick shaft.

“Oh my god, s-shit, so fucking good angel. Love that- huhh, perfect fucking mouth of yours,”

The more you work with your skillful mouth, the more praises and curses pour from his throat. You love what a receptive lover he is, how confident and positively wet he makes you when he tells you exactly the way you make him feel. Which, at the current moment, was heavenly.

“F-Fuck, babe, I’m gonna- we should p-pull over-”

“Keep driving. You take care of not crashing, and I’ll take care of you.”

Your eagerness to please him... holy shit. This side of you is ruining him right now. He momentarily fears for the safety of his life and his pride, because you have the reins pulled so fucking tight on him right now it’s embarrassing, honestly.

Your skilled tongue and fast-paced bobbing are making him come apart at the seams, his knuckles white and shoulders shaking, and he’s using every drop of will power to keep his eyes from clenching shut from the overwhelming stimulation. You slow your bobbing, tightening your lips as you pull up slowly to the top of his member, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head. Using your left hand to stroke the bottom of his shaft while your mouth is busy showing special attention to his head, your right hand slips under to take his heavy balls in your tight palm.

“Oh fuck, y/n! God, yes.” The way he hums and moans while you fondle his balls and suck on his sensitive head has you twitching, the sound of his voice vibrating in your soaked panties.

You slide him out of your mouth with a smile, reveling in the shake of his muscular thighs, the tightness of his abs, all the little signs in his demeanor and body language that tell you you’re doing phenomenal. You lick another long, wet stripe up his shaft. He moans, and you take his large length in again with heightened enthusiasm.

You start speeding up, his dick bottoming out in your throat with each head bob. His fingers curl and twist into your hair, tugging tight as his large palm on your scalp pushes you farther down on his cock. You specifically told him both hands on the wheel, but due to his endless symphony of deep moans and whiny praises egging you on, you figure you can let this disobedience go unpunished. Besides, with the obvious tensing of his thighs and twitching of his cock, you know he’s giving it his all not to just buck up into your mouth and fuck your pretty throat, he’s really being such a good, considerate boyfriend <3

“Fuck, shit,” He pants, and you can hear in his voice that he’s moments away from climax. You moan onto his cock as you hollow out your cheeks, and he pulls on your pretty locks trapped in his fist as his balls tighten.

“Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s my baby,” Your name falls from his lips again and again as he cums, and you swallow his load that fills your mouth with greedy ambition. You bob up and down, his sensitive shaft twitching a few more times and he hisses, pulling you hard by your hair from overstimulation.

You let his intense grip guide your head up to meet his eyes, and they are now dark and lidded with dangerous intent. The way he stares at your swollen pink lips makes you shudder.

He reaches his thumb up to swipe the dripping cum from your bottom lip, and then pushes it in your mouth, setting his thumb on your tongue.

This is one of your favorite things about your boyfriend. Some would think the sudden changes in mood would be exhausting, but usually, oh god, it took you by surprise in a way that had your panties soaking and your knees shaking.

The power has entirely shifted, a moment ago you had all the control and dominance over your needy, horny, post-grumpy boyfriend, but now, oh boy. He’s looking at you with a fierce intent of payback, his golden eyes drinking in the way you tense with nervous anticipation, and you can see the punishment waiting for you in his eyes.

Still gripping your hair tightly in his fist, he pulls you in for a quick, but devastatingly passionate kiss. He pulls away just as quickly, looking back to the road in front of him with deadly determined eyes.

“We’re pulling over.”

Your heart nearly pounds out of your chest as he whips into the closest secluded parking lot, your head spinning so fast you have no time to process the severity of your coming punishment as he throws you into the back seat, At least he isn’t grumpy anymore <3

#bokuto #bokuto koutarou #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #bokuto imagine #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq x reader #bokuto x reader smut #xans!fics #haikyuu imagines #bokuto koutarou smut

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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I live in the neighbourhood Part 2

Part 2 is hereeeeee YAY! There will be a part 3 eventually :) I hope you enjoy and as well lmk you loved it with reblogs and messages, they truly make my day and y’know do it for other writers too, trust me we all love it. this fucking gif still gets me,,, but anyway there is so much i want to talk about in this part its killing me so plssss message me about it aghghghggh idk what else to say

um this part is filled with: yn not knowing cars, harry being a dork, almost kisses and kisses , but daddy i love him, the crown, gardening, and so much more mwah

Read Part 1

Word Count: 10.8k | Warnings: minor anxiety attack, swearing?, drinking, think that’s it (some more taylor swift)

“You want me to what?!” She feels herself all but scream.

He sighs in exasperation and ruffles his freshly cut curls. He can’t help the smile that grows shortly after his sigh. Y/N’s reaction on the other end of the line has sent him into a fit of giggles that he has to suppress quickly when she sends a warning ‘Harry’.

“It’s simple, love,” He twists to lay on his stomach. “I left you the spare to my place. Just go in, find my car keys and then drive to the airport and snap me up!”

She sighs now over the phone as she contemplates whether she could truly go into Harry’s home and then drive his surely expensive car to the airport and get him. It was something a friend would do for another friend, especially one who was a neighbour and especially a neighbour who had nothing better to do on a Friday night.

“Alright,” she says finally, “I’ll be there on Friday, text me the flight number.”

She grins when she hears a little “woo” from Harry. Even if he’s smiling half a world away it still made her happy to know it was because of her.

They had mostly texted each other randomly over the past three weeks while Harry had been away in California. She told him about her job, which he insisted was endlessly interesting and she countered that he found it interesting because it was new to him and eventually the grandeur would wear off. She loved her job, of course, it was for a public relations company that dealt with various London based companies and she was on multiple accounts with various clients ranging from tech companies to music artists. But she didn’t think it was as interesting as Harry made it out to be.

Harry told her about the filming of the movie and about everyone on set. He told her how he bought everyone on the crew his new ‘Treat People With Kindness’ sweatshirts and joked how he’d have to get her one as well to match her other one. She noted that one of Harry’s love languages was very obviously gift giving. He was so generous and she really admired that from him considering how successful he was. Her father was an accountant so she knew how rich people could be about their money sometimes, hiding it away in different entities just so their money can make money instead of spending it on things that matter.

He said everyone was nice and amazing overall, he gushed about people’s performances, but he’d always end with how much he missed London. He liked LA, he would assure her, but then he’d say how it wasn’t home-y at all. London was home to him. She would smile whenever he said that because she felt that way too, even though she wasn’t originally from the city, it just felt like home to her.

One night, he even confided in her his loneliness while on set. He wondered that maybe it was because he had no real roots in LA, nothing to go home to - no home to go to. She tried to reassure him that he wasn’t alone and all he had to do was ask and any person from the movie would love to spend time with him. He nodded along to her words, but they both knew he was being overly kind when he said everyone was nice. Not everyone in Hollywood was nice and certainly not everyone in Hollywood had substance. He searched for a month and seldom found time where he was truly relaxed with others and enjoying himself. More than ever he was excited to return home to London to say the least.

“Harry!”

She jumped out of her seat and into his arms, her cheek brushing his as she leaned in. He stood just on the sidewalk by his car that she had gingerly driven into the city and to the airport at 9pm on a Friday night in November.

The car was a dark blue vintage convertible, Mercedes-Benz, she was pretty sure but she really was completely clueless when it came to cars. Harry had taken her call right before his flight took off and walked her through finding the car. He had two garages and one garage had two cars and the other had only one. She had gone on her own and found the first garage with the two cars and seen a lime green tiny little vintage convertible and a cherry red vintage non-convertible and became distraught that there was no navy car. When Harry picked up the phone he had been greeted with some yelling about how he must be colorblind if he thought one of these cars was navy and he had laughed heartily before explaining that there was another garage. She had huffed and traipsed through his house until she came upon the other garage. When she saw the blue car she was equally annoyed and elated. “Thank fucking god,” she muttered over the line and Harry had laughed, but found himself cut off when the line went dead.

He smiled and groaned slightly at her tight embrace. He was happy to be back in England after a month away and he was happy to have her in his arms even if he didn’t know whether he should admit that.

“It’s good to see you,” he musters and he feels her smile into his neck. The only fabric between her face and him being his thin waffle knit long sleeve. He could feel her breath softly against him. He pets at the back of her hair, “Thank you for coming to get me, I know it might have been a bit much to ask.”

“Don’t mention it,” she pulls back from his embrace and smiles happily up at him, “What are friends for?”

She brushes her hands at his shoulders and then moves to start putting his luggage in his car. He had two suitcases and a backpack with him, but he had told her he had more stuff sent over that would just be sent simply to his home. She had texted back a shocked face emoji when he said that, unaware that he traveled with that much stuff.

“Right,” Harry affirms, twitching into action at the word ‘friends’. He felt like they had gotten so close over the last month even though they had only talked over the phone for that time. Seeing her in person now felt like she had been his friend for years.

Once in the car, Y/N settles back in the driver’s seat, not wanting Harry to have to drive after the horrible flight from California to London. A direct flight was just about as bad as layovers in Ohio or Utah. She wasn’t sure what it was like in First Class, but she still knew it was rough being on an aircraft for 10 plus hours.

Harry closes his eyes beside her after a moment. He had watched her settle in the car with his head against the headrest, his eyes drooping as they regarded her movements. She was so sweet to him and he nodded when she asked if he wanted his seat warmer on.

“You’re too good to me, pet,” he whispers, head lulling once again.

She glances at him swiftly as she pulls out of the loading area. He smiled contentedly before drifting off to sleep.

She turned the music low and silently drove them back to Sherwood Avenue. When she pulled the car into Harry’s garage, she sat there for a few moments as Harry softly breathed beside her. She had hoped he’d wake up upon their arrival so she wouldn’t have to wake him, but alas he was sound asleep.

She watched him, he was so quiet in this moment. So unlike how he normally was with her, talking about everything and nothing almost constantly. She liked that side of him. But she had to admit something about him this peaceful was just as entrancing.

The flutter of his eyelids brought her out of her reverie and she was grateful for the dim lighting in the garage because when Harry’s eyes focused on her she was blushing.

He quirks a brow and his smirk begins to settle back on his lips. “Home,” he raspily mumbles and begins to shift in his sea.

She nods and smiles softly, shaking off all the thoughts had been going through her mind.

“We’re back,” she affirms. “Let’s get you inside, sleepy boy.”

Harry shakes off his slumber with a rub at his right eye and a run through his hair. He climbs out of the car. She throws him the keys at his silent instruction of an extended hand and an eyebrow raise. She knows she read him correctly when he smiles sweetly and travels to the boot of his car to begin unloading the suitcases he was in charge of.

She follows him and rounds the end of the car, preparing to take some of his luggage.

“You don’t need to carry anything, it’s fine, dove.”

His voice is extra gravelly still and she would’ve complained about the new nicknames if he hadn’t sounded so hot. She didn’t think she had any feelings for Harry other than friendship, she was almost sure of it. Sure he was attractive, but ever since she actually got to know him she hadn’t thought of him in a way that could be considered more than friendship. He made her blush, but he was just inherently smooth. It wasn’t because he was specifically flirting with her.

Except right now, the whole reuniting of it all paired with his voice and his sleepy eyes that she imagined likely looked similar to his bedroom eyes. She was having a hard time seeing that line of friendship.

“No!” She protested, tugging the backpack he was attempting to carry along with the two suitcases from him.

He sighs and sets down one of the cases, “Y/N, you’ve already been too good to me by picking me up. I’m not making you do any more physical labor with any of my heavy shit.”

“It can’t be that heavy,” she pulls the backpack on and she resists the slight step back her body wants to take from the weight of the backpack.

“Give it back,” he says, sounding concerned for her.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it, Har,” she smiles and gives a little twirl in his large garage, the backpack making her look a bit smaller.

He twists his lips trying to ward off a smile. He wasn’t annoyed, moreso he was delighted by her antics. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her.

“Oh you got it? Do you?” His amusement betrays his British accent, making him sound like he did at 19. He places the other case on the ground and walks quickly to stand right in front of her.

She squeals as he gets so close, his nose just about brushes hers. He’s smiling sinisterly as he takes hold of the straps of the backpack and tries to tug them off of her. Yet, she holds on tight to the front of them, laughing happily at their silliness and causing her nose to brush against his.

Their eyes are strong on each other, watching their every move. And they settle a little, laughter dying out, breathing evening out. Her hands are still strong on the front straps of the backpack, while Harry’s are strong on the top of her shoulders, wrapped around the backpack’s straps as well.

He licks his lips, feeling especially interested in seeing how hers finally taste. Right as he is about to lean in, brush his lips against hers, she pulls from his grasp, swinging away from him and dashing to the door that leads to the rest of his house.

“C’mon, it’s freezing out here!” She twists the nob of the door and beckons him.

He huffs, shaking himself out of the daydream he had almost made reality. He wanted to kick himself, he felt like a kid. He needed to get a grip.

“I’m right behind ya’,” he called, nodding his head to tell her to go before him.

Her smile sears in his mind like the shine on a brand new coin as she flicks on the light in the entryway. The light comes flooding in the doorway and around her. For that quick moment only she is illuminated in his eyes. She shines for him and he wonders if it’s possible to drown in light.

Next Thursday

“Crown came out on Sunday!” Harry said as he opened the door, knowing it was Y/N who had knocked.

“Had no clue from the ominous text you sent, ‘come over, i promise popcorn *crown emoji*’,” she laughs and enters the house and holds out a bag of chocolate chips.

“I already have it queued up and popcorn’s popping!” He says happily and takes the chocolate chips to put in little dishes.

They walk into the kitchen and she’s still in awe of his home. It was clean and sleek but with all the hominess still easily found if you looked a little closer. Tea cloths hanging over the ovens’ handles that had interlocking G’s - a facet of Gucci she could only assume. Various paintings of different scenes, one a Japanese store front and another a Blue Jay perched easily on a thin branch.

There were unique painted tiles that he must use for hot plates and a single fancy floral mug tucked next to an espresso machine and just little things that she was keen on exploring at some point, but Harry caught her attention.

“Adult slushie?” He inquires with an arched brow.

“Does the slushie perform exotic dances?” She asks jokingly.

Harry rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Sometimes those that drink it do.”

She reddens at his implication. He then looks at her seriously and she regards him with utter delight. Her eyes twinkle as he moves about his home with ease.

“If you make it,” she confirms, in awe that he would make cocktails on this random occasion.

He smiles at her and begins his final tasks, checking to make sure the popcorn doesn’t burn and grabs the ingredients he needs to make the drink he was thinking of.

She stands beside him, eyes constantly wondering between his moving physique and his home.

“Did you know I know Emma?” Harry asks, looking up from the blender. She notices how his neck muscles twist and strain as he gazes at her. He was wearing a white t-shirt with ‘But Daddy I Love Him’ in a red vintage font and a black cardigan with different colorful objects on it, mostly flowers, it said ‘Spaceboy’ on the back and she had smiled when she saw it when he led her to the kitchen.

She hums, her gaze focused on him. His green eyes flicker across her face and down her body, simply taking into account her outfit. Pink sweatpants and a long sleeve with a drawing of a cute little clown holding two guns up at the air. While it might have sounded like a weird thing to have printed on a shirt, he found it fun, he was always appreciative of different clothing. Of course she had a gun-slinging clown shirt that she managed to make sweet, he thought.

“Fascinating connections of the rich and famous,” she muses.

“Yeah, well, Susan - Harry Lambert,” he corrects his friend’s nickname, catching himself, “he styles us both so we’ve met a few times. She’s really lovely.”

“That’s pretty epic,” she says and wanders closer to Harry, wanting a better look at his progress on the drinks.

Her hand rests on the countertop next to the two glasses he intends to place the ‘slushies’ into. The liquor he used just said “Blue” and she wondered what blue would taste like as he pours the glasses now. The consistency of them being relatively slushie like, she was impressed.

Her smile gives it away and Harry eyes her, “What’re you smiling at?”

“I’m admiring your bartending skills,” she meets his eyes and she realizes how rather close they’ve gotten as he leans slightly over her and the countertop.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” he says playfully, “I take my mixology very seriously so I don’t want any praise until you’ve actually tried it.”

He holds the glass up to her and instead of grabbing it from him, she simply guides it to her lips. Her hand lightly grasping at the soft fabric of his cardigan. She parts her lips and takes a small sip, maintaining eye contact with Harry.

When the icey liquid passes her lips, her eyes flutter shut at the sweetness of the drink, it was like candy but with a light kick at the end from the alcohol. She loved it and when she opened her eyes again she took the drink from Harry’s strong hand and took another sip.

“This is dangerously good,” she finally says and Harry grins.

“Fantastic! Now we’re ready to start the show,” and he leads them into his living room that is just as big or bigger than his kitchen. A large screen television and a turquoise velvet couch are the main attractions of the room, at least what Y/N is focused on. There’s more art and posters up in this room, a lovely round coffee table and gorgeous vintage rug.

“Wait, Susan?” she circles back to Harry’s earlier comment about Emma Corin and their shared stylist.

Harry smiles and sits next to her comfortably, placing the drinks on coasters and the other various items on the coffee table.

“It’s my nickname for Harry since we’re both...Harry. Just felt silly calling each other Harry and Sue and Susan, they just fit so well.”

She nods, “I see.” But she didn’t really get it. She’d never had a friend where they only called each other a different name from their own, maybe a nickname that she would occasionally call them, but never one so ingrained that she would call them it when referring to them to someone else who surely didn’t know them and wouldn’t know them by the different name. Not that she really knew who Harry Lambert was in the first place, but it still made more sense than Susan. She shook it off just as another quirk of Harry being who he was.

They settle in for the show and they love talking through it, which Y/N was happy that Harry liked to talk during shows as well. She hated when people shushed her during movies and shows when she had something to say. They commented on the fashion and how wild some of the stuff was. Thankfully, as well, even Harry thought some of the things the royals did were absurdly lavish.

“He is so hot,” she finally says when Prince Charles is on the screen for another time and she can’t keep it in anymore, “How could they cast him for Prince Charles, they are far too kind.”

“Josh?” Harry questions, glancing over at his friend curled up on the couch next to him. She had her feet tucked beneath her legs and had her body on its side while staring at the television.

“Don’t tell me you know him too?” She says, taking her focus off the TV to look at Harry, a chocolate chip landing in her mouth once she finished talking.

Their blue slushies had been finished and the popcorn was half eaten. She was pretty sure they were on the second episode already.

He laughs, “No, but Emma says he’s very nice...He is rather attractive.”

That makes her smile, the both of them finding an actor attractive. It felt like Harry was like one of her friends from home, chatting about boys, something she really didn’t do anymore.

“Maybe you can introduce us,” she laughs, her head nudging at Harry’s shoulder beside her.

She doesn’t notice Harry’s lack of mirth at her joke as she turns her attention back to the screen, re-immersing herself in the plot. He twitches slightly uncomfortably at the thought of him introducing her to someone she might be interested in romantically.

“Why not,” he says half-heartedly and he hopes she doesn’t notice his tone.

The next day was Friday and she had the day off as per usual.

After three episodes of the Crown, she and Harry had decided to call it a night. He had offered that she could spend the night so she didn’t have to walk home after she had refused to let him walk her across the street. However, she declined, saying she didn’t like leaving Rori alone at night, especially since he was still getting used to the new house. Harry had understood but she could tell he was saddened by her leaving.

She had decided to plant some flowers in her front yard, hoping to liven it up. She had bought some plants at the local flower shop, pansies and aster thinking that purple and gold would look lovely together. She planned to set to work with little experience, but plenty of intention. Rori was outside with her for moral support, prancing through the growing grass and nibbling at the shrubs, more like a bunny than a dog.

Her mother had gifted her gardening tools a long time ago and their entire family had laughed because they knew Y/N didn’t have a green anything, most definitely not a green thumb. Today she had grabbed them and the plants and had placed it all in front of her planters. Then she sat there and went on her phone, scrolling through it mindlessly. She had no idea what she was doing or where to start so getting distracted was easy.

“Need any help?”

Her head turns and she slides away her phone with a sigh, knowing exactly who had just kindly asked to lend a hand.

Harry squints down at her and in this moment she is especially aware of just how tall Harry actually is. Normally she notices his height and thinks ‘yeah he’s tall’, but right now he towers over her. His hair is catching the surprising fall sun and causing glints of gold to radiate off him. His eyes are especially light right now and she feels oddly unnerved by their color, the hazy mint of some kind of predator. He is such a presence and she thought she had finally gotten used to him being in her life, but in this moment she is taken aback. She shakes her head after a moment too long of staring up at him.

“Hi,” she breathes and stands up from her sitting position. “I was just starting to do some planting, and I don’t know if you can tell but I have no gardening skills whatsoever.”

She gestures to her set up and Harry turns his gaze from her to the plants and smiles. He had been coming back from his morning jog and instead of entering his gate, he walked through hers. He looks at everything and reaches down to pet Rori when he comes running up happily to his friend.

“Well, it looks like a good start. Aster is an interesting thing to plant…” He kneels down to start digging up the soil in the planters.

She kneels beside him and watches him attentively. “I wanted chrysanthemums, they’re one of my favorites. But they were out, so it will have to do.”

“It will do perfectly,” he looks up at her from his work, “you wouldn’t have picked it if it wasn’t amazing.”

She makes a small smile at his statement, but doesn’t respond. Instead, she takes up mimicking his actions with the soil.

“Do you garden a lot?” Her voice is soft, not wanting to disturb the quiet that had fallen over them.

“Not much anymore, I don’t really have the time, but I used to with my mum.”

She hums and scratches behind Rori’s ears absentmindedly when he looks curiously at what they’re doing.

They work silently, only talking intermittently. At one point, she grabs them glasses of water from the kitchen, mostly for Harry because he’s actually working up a sweat planting her garden. Harry hums random songs that are on his mind and she wishes he would sing for her, but she would never dare ask him to.

They talk about the Crown and how much they loved all the clothes in it last night and where the plot is going since they know the true history it’s based on. Harry offers British insight into the Royals that she had never thought about and they even venture into British politics which she admits she never really thought about since usually the US politics is far more in the spotlight.

He talks about his views on politics and she gives hers, even stranger though they even venture further into usually rocky territory and discuss religion. She is very interested by what Harry has to say about religion, his answers are both completely expected and unexpected. Something she’s noticed about Harry with her is that she always seems to be surprised by what he says, but it still manages to make complete sense after a moment.

“I’m going back to LA tomorrow,” Harry muses as he regards one of the pansies, like he’s almost staring it straight in the eye.

“Oh?” She turns to face him.

She stops her aimless moving about of the dirt. She had mostly been playing with the dirt while he did the majority of the work. She just didn’t enjoy it. Harry had definitely made the activity palatable. She’d have to tell him she would have likely given up an hour ago had he not been there.

He sighs and sets the pansy into the hole in the soil he had made for it. “More shooting for the movie, I’ll be gone for another month.”

“Wow…I think saying goodbye to you is just going to get harder and harder.” She looks away, her arms crossing over herself instinctively when the wind blows just a little too hard.

Harry looks at her now and sees her curling in on herself and he wants to hug her, but they weren’t like that. Instead he places a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it slowly up and down trying to offer her some warmth.

“I think we’ve made enough progress today. It’s starting to get cold, hm?”

She looks at him now and nods, her hand moving up and capturing his in hers. Like they had when Harry walked her home after his game, their fingers twist and turn around each other. Their eyes shying between each other’s faces and interlocked hands.

She springs to her feet after a couple quiet minutes of dodging eye contact and simply enjoying the feel of one another against each other.

“I should thank you for all this help,” she starts and Harry gets up to stand, beginning to say there is no need for a thank you for what he did.

“No, no.” She stops him, “I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere without your help and I took up all of your day, practically.” She takes hold of his hands now to examine the dirt that has managed to cover them since he was convinced that she should wear the gloves her mother gave her. “You should come over tonight and I’ll cook you dinner. I’m a much better cook than I am a gardener.”

Harry looks at her quietly, his eyes blinking slowly. Like he’s basking in the small movements she’s making on his hands. She traces the little cross that straddles his thumb and pointer finger on his left hand.

“I’ll make sure to bring dessert then.” He smiles and tilts his head to the right and a little forward towards her. She gazes up at him softly. “I might even bring something extra special.”

She raises her brows, “A special treat from Harry Styles himself. I’ll be anxiously awaiting your return then.” She taunts him only slightly because what he had said just about brought her to her knees. The way his smile had shifted to a smirk and how his voice has grown quiet and low, it just felt very intimate.

Harry returns at half past six, as requested by Y/N. He was freshly showered and cologned and she had never found a man more attractive than in that moment. Before he came over he told her he was dressing nice and she had no idea what that might mean with him. But when she saw him, she understood.

What it meant was a crisp blue big collared Gucci dress shirt unbuttoned almost half way down his chest revealing his ever present cross and fitted high waisted brown trousers. His fresh haircut meant for the 50’s slicked back with pieces beginning to fall about just perfectly. No belt, no cufflinks, and no suit coat. Instead of a coat he had on a jacket that was similar to her giraffe jacket he had borrowed all those days ago. His own was comfortably settled over his shoulders and it was obviously made of fabrics far nicer than hers and wasn’t fraying in any place.

He posed in her doorway and even gave a twirl at which time Y/N laughed happily. It looked amazing on him, she had no idea how her jacket had been the thing that started this all.

“How do you like it?” He asks seriously. “Does it look alright?”

“It looks perfect on you, Har. Is that the extra special surprise?”

He smirks smugly at her compliment and comes into the home, greeting Rori quickly before following her back into the kitchen where she was still cooking.

“Oh no,” he says and places a bag filled with a bottle of red wine and a pint of her favorite ice cream on the counter (and the surprise tucked neatly at the bottom of the bag).

She looks at him quizzically as he begins to take the items out of the bag.

“There’s one last thing in there,” he points to the bag casually, while putting the ice cream in her freezer. “Do ya’ mind grabbing it for me, dove?”

She rolls her eyes and reaches into the bag. Her hand retrieves a magazine from the bottom of the bag and when she flips it over to the front side, a gasp escaped her lips.

“Harry! Oh my god!” Her hand goes to her mouth as she takes in the cover.

A US Vogue magazine with Harry on the front of it. He’s blowing up a balloon in the photo and he looks beautiful. His skin is flawless and his hair is luscious and flowing a little longer than he kept it now due to the movie.

“I’m a Vogue cover model now, eh?” He asks, looking on apprehensively as she begins to gingerly flick her fingers through the magazine’s pages.

“This is the surprise?” She looks up from the page with him and Gemma sitting side by side.

Harry nods and watches her absentmindedly trace his face on the page.

“Do you like the pictures?” His voice is soft and almost timid?

“Of course!” She exclaims, not wanting to let any doubts pass through Harry’s mind. “Is this what you were doing up in Scotland a couple months ago, right before we became friends and you said you wanted to surprise me with something top secret?”

He nods again, his grin creeping onto his face as she stares at the photo of him in the cover photo’s outfit where you can see the entire dress.

“I want that dress...did they let you keep it?” She continues flicking through the pages lightly and glancing at Harry across from her. The dinner forgotten for the moment.

“It’s Gucci, I didn’t keep it, but I’m sure I could call Susan and get you one ordered,” he replies easily, leaning over the counter to watch the magazine.

She scoffs, “I can’t afford a Gucci gown for no reason...AND before you try to say you’ll pay for it, I would never accept such a gift and I am so for real about that, Harry.”

He waves his hands out in front of him as if to say he’d never suggest such a thing even though they both knew he’d buy it for her in a heartbeat.

“These pants…” she mutters, eyes now fixed on the trousers Harry is wearing in a specific photo in the magazine. They’re tan with a darker stripe on the side of them but the most intriguing part is all of the different drawings on it that seemed to be all related to Harry.

“They’re fab, no?” He quirks a brow at her, his face still holding an apprehensive grin like she’ll take back her praise at a moment’s notice.

“So fab,” she echoes. “Are they bespoke?” Her question has a hint of sarcasm dripping behind it, knowing by now Harry was notorious for custom-made items.

“What gave it away?” He wiggles his brows.

Her eyes flicker to meet his and she sees they’ve ended up face to face once again. It seemed to happen too often with one another. She settles the magazine down and stands up straight. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in the proximity of his inviting lips. The proximity of his warmth that had seemed to seep into all facets of her life in the last two months or so. It was wonderful and warm, but it wasn’t hers. She shared him with so many other people and she couldn’t get carried away with him because tomorrow he’d be gone.

“That really is amazing Harry. I’m very proud of you, but if you don’t want a burnt dinner, I need to start paying attention to what I’m cooking.” She turns away from him and she quickly takes a palm to swipe beneath her eye, collecting the stray liquid that somehow fell from her eye. Funny thing, she wasn’t cooking with onions.

Harry doesn’t notice the movement, simply sighing that she turned from him yet again. He ran a hand through his hair, further tousling the once coiffed hairdo and then twisted his ‘H’ ring around his finger before settling on a bar stool to flip through the magazine and watch her cook.

“When does the magazine come out?” She calls as she stirs the sauce that she’d be pouring over their spaghetti squash once it was finished baking.

“Next week, They’ll release the story online and then I’ll be hitting shelves,” he muses, reading a different story in the magazine, not particularly interesting in himself.

“I’m sure you’ll be flying off those shelves the second you’re placed down.” She laughs at her joke and Harry rubs his lips with his thumb and forefinger thoughtfully.

“You think so?” His eyes sparkle with mischief at his question.

She turns her head, an open-mouthed grin already on her face, a slight scoff falling from her mouth, “Oh c’mon, you know so. I think you’re one of the most loved men in the world and people fall more and more in love each year.” She almost added ‘and I don’t blame them’ but she refrained thankfully.

“Most loved...I like that. Such an interesting way to put it.”

“I mean, you’ve been famous for what? Ten years now? That’s a long time and I don’t think you’re going anywhere...At this point it’s not about how big your celebrity star is, it’s your level of belovedness and I think that level is quite high.” She comments on something about Harry they never talked too much of. Sometimes they talked about him knowing famous people and about the work he had to fly off to do, but never the specific fame of it all. She didn’t really think Harry liked to talk about.

She didn’t have much of an opinion on it, it didn’t matter to her whether Harry was a famous multi-talented big-C celebrity or he was a nobody with a random job. As long as he was still her neighbour she would never complain. He made her so happy and maybe if he hadn’t been famous he wouldn’t be the way that he was so she would never say it was a nuisance. It just came along with him.

“Well...like I said, it’s a lovely way to put it. So, thank you for that.”

He stands up now, forgetting the magazine and rounding the counter to find a cork for the wine seeing that Y/N was doing the final touches on their food.

They eat dinner across from each other at her modest-sized dinner table. Harry slips his giraffe coat off and rolls up his sleeves to allow him to “really dig in” to the dinner she made for them. Maybe some footsy occurs beneath the table but neither of them would ever admit to it so did it really happen? Just feet moving randomly and happening to rub against one another every so often.

After dinner and a bottle of wine, the two of them join Rori in the living room where he’s curled up on one of the throw pillows. Y/N runs back to the kitchen to scoop them ice cream and whips of two Moscow Mules to go with it because she had brought up how when she usually goes home for the holidays, her and her sister always have a competition of who can make the most unique but best tasting Moscow Mule. Harry had said how he’d love to be there one day for that and she had blushed and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear from the comment before taking a large gulp of wine. Since that wasn’t possible right now, her tipsy mind had decided that the next best thing was to make some basic ones right now.

“I bring a Mule and an ice cream,” she says airly, playing like a royal herself, as she holds them out to Harry.

He laughs softly and accepts them graciously, doing a slight head bow to her. Before he can say anything she’s a flash of plaid and red as she runs back for her own ice cream and drink. He had been complimenting her plaid pants with golden bees on them all night and asked her where she got them, teasing that they must be Gucci, but all she would say is that he couldn’t have them to go make a copy of this time.

She re-enters the room and dims the lights with her hip. Then she settles beside him, clinking her glass with him and they both take their first sip.

“Hmmm,” Harry hums after he tastes the cocktail, “I like it.”

“Moscow Mules are a favorite with my family,” she muses, flicking through the television to get them set up to watch the Crown again.

“Maybe I should meet them and thank them for bestowing such a good favorite unto their daughter?” Harry asks and she laughs and rolls her eyes. Questions of meeting family when they were just friends didn’t need a response. Right?

They spoon ice cream into their mouths as the show begins and they murmur comments to one another throughout the episode. They idly pet Rori sometimes as he moves randomly around the room trying to find the place he likes most. Once Harry’s done with his ice cream, Rori thinks his chest is the best place to be and Y/N can’t help but snap a quick photo of it.

“Not quite as handsome without the dress, but it’ll do,” she sighs and snuggles into Harry’s side. Her hand reaches up to scratch at Rori which then leaves her arm wrapped around Harry when her dog inexplicably leaves to go to bed a few minutes later.

He was an awfully good wingman Harry would easily admit at a much later date.

They stay cuddled casually with one another for the entirety of two more episodes and they realize they’re more than halfway done with the season. A yawn from Y/N cues to Harry that he should suggest they pause for the night. She agrees easily, her head nuzzling into his strong shoulder for a little while.

Harry takes the remote from her and turns off the television before flicking on the side table turquoise glass-blown lamp.

“Can I put some music on?” He whispers in her ear, already knowing the answer, but waiting for her to nod her head. She obliges and he slowly slides her onto the couch beneath them. Then he begins padding around her house to find her speaker.

“Arrow Through Me” by Harry’s all time role model Paul McCartney’s second band Wings begins to play through the speakers. What a fucking moutful.

She perks up at the music and sits up straighter on her couch. Her smile grows as Harry shakes his hips a little and moves to the beat of the song as he makes his way back over to the couch. He opens his mouth to say something, but instead of words ringing loud through the room, it's the sound of a phone buzzing from somewhere between a few cushions on the couch

“Oh shit...shit, shit, shit,” she awakens herself out of her daze with her profanity. Attempting to find her phone rather haphazardly, she stumbles around the couch.

It’s Harry who fishes the phone from beneath a throw pillow and hands it over to his friend. She smiles thankfully, her hair a little messy and her eyes slightly crazed, before picking up the phone without even looking at the caller ID.

“Hello?...Cate?...Oh, hey….No, I didn’t look at the ID...figured it was you or someone in the states...no one in the UK would call me right now...It’s almost midnight here, you asshole,” she pauses and points at the phone and mouths “it’s Cate” like Harry hadn’t been sitting there listening to the entire conversation.

“I’m just hanging out watching the new season of Crown...with Harry...yeah, that Harry,” she flits her eyes to Harry for a second and rolls her eyes sarcastically.

“Talk to him? I mean.. I can put you on speaker, I guess?” She looks at Harry and he nods his head eagerly.

She rejoins him on the couch and places the phone on the coffee table, tapping on the speaker.

“You’re on speaker now.”

“Hi Harry!” Cate crackles over the line, happily, likely just awoken from her slumber in California.

“Hullo, love,” he says sweetly, his voice beginning to slow even more as the night wears on.

Y/N rolls her eyes at both of her friends, knowing Harry was laying it on thick and that Cate would squeal over this exchange for the next three weeks.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?” She inquires sweetly and Harry makes an arched brow at Y/N and she only supplies a shaken head and a shoulder shrug.

“Cate….” Y/N drags out, annoyed with her for both saying that and for calling just as she was planning on going to sleep.

“Sorry! Friends, I know. Even though staying in on a Friday night with just the two of you doesn’t sound very friendly…” She begins to ramble on, but Y/N offers another warning ‘Cate’. Cate takes the hint and finishes her teasing. “Anyways…”

Harry and Y/N are completely red, sitting next to one another but grateful for the minimal lighting.

“I was just calling to check-in. Do you know what you’re doing for the holidays yet? I know you don’t do thanksgiving anymore - which was yesterday by the way - since you’re all British now.”

Y/N scoffs at her close friend and Harry nudges her side about the British thing.

“I don’t know yet, I have to see my work schedule and all that. I don’t know if I want to fly across the world this year though…” She trails off, kind of quieting in hope that Cate will miss it.

Harry regards the conversation, casually interested, yet intrigued since he had been meaning to ask the exact same question.

Cate hums, obviously unhappy with the response. “Alright. And you Harry? Do you usually go home to your family for the holidays?”

“You don’t need to answer that,” Y/N interjects.

Harry places a hand on her thigh to let her know that it’s completely fine. An easy smile on his lips as he speaks to the phone. Y/N places her hand over Harry’s on instinct.

“Usually, yeah. This year we were thinking of all going out to my place in Italy so it’s kind of up in the air right now. When I get back from LA, I’ll probably finalize it.”

“LA you said? We should get together while you’re here.”

“Cate. He’s there on business.”

“I know...but still. It’s fine,” Cate laughs lightly, knowing she was pushing her luck with this conversation as it was. “Anyways, darling, I just wanted to tell you I miss you and that Harry’s not allowed to replace me as your best friend. Y’hear that Mr. Styles?”

“I sure do, love.”

Everyone laughs whole heartedly and Harry and Y/N are still playing with each other’s fingers on top of her thigh.

Y/N thinks that’s enough of the conference call with Harry and Cate so she snatches the phone with her free hand and raises it back to her ear.

“Alright, Cate, I think we’re going to head to bed...not...not like that...I hate you...Now I definitely don’t want to come home...I’m kidding, I’ll think about it...Love you, too….Yeah I’ll tell him...Have a nice day…”

She throws the phone on the coffee table again and falls back on the couch. Her head rolls to rest on Harry’s broad shoulder and she sighs softly. Harry moves his head to rest over hers, chuckling softly. His sweet breaths of joy are why he then receives a soft slap on his far arm, only making him laugh more.

“Shut up,” her muffled voice comes out from against his blue shirt that is far more crumpled than it was when he came over hours ago.

“She’s so funny,” he laughs again, nosing his face into her hair.

“She tries to get away with way too much,” she sighs and Harry just pats at her side, smiling and not caring at all about the things Cate was hinting at because he wanted what she was alluding to to be reality.

“Y’know I have a question because she said I can’t be your best friend and that’s fine with me, but I wanted to tell you something, love.”

Her head raises to look Harry in the eye, slightly confused by his preface.

“You’re my best friend,” he says earnestly in the dark living room, “Is that allowed?”

His accent was thick with anticipation, the night wearing on his vocal cords. It was so quiet in the room, Harry was sure she just heard him swallow his own saliva - he had paused the music after a minute into the call with Cate. He blinks twice while waiting for any response, he stares straight at her.

Her eyes barely shine through the darkness as she looks back at him. His question rattled through her mind. ‘Is it allowed’ for him to think of her as his best friend. It just didn’t make complete sense to her and she wasn’t sure if she should vocalize that doubt. But as his eyes begin to mist like a forest on a cold morning she knows she has to say something.

Her eyelids shut as she lets out a heavy breath, the processing of what Harry’s just said finishes.

“It’s allowed...Do you mean it?”

“Course I mean it,” his voice cracks, an incredulous laugh leaving his lips.

She straightens up, moving slightly from his warm embrace. He becomes fidgety without her tucked in his side. His fingers itch without her arm to caress. His lips move between his teeth without her hair to ghost over.

When she remains silent, Harry decides to continue.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he croaks and she furrows her brow at this. “It was the day you moved in...Had just come home from my morning run and you’d pulled up in your moving van. I thought you had on the coolest pair of jeans I’d ever seen…” He pauses. He takes a deep breath and her eyes are watering now.

“I also thought you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen and I knew I had to know you.”

“Why’d it’d take you so long?” Is all she asks as she tries to will away the water welling in her eyes.

Harry rolls his lips together and breathlessly laughs, head tilted up to the sky. “Never knew how to approach ya’. Then you bumped into me, felt like it was the universe kicking me for being so damn slow.”

She bites her lip, a tear rolling down her cheek finally. “Oh, Harry.”

Then there it is. What the last few months had been leading up to. The moment where they no longer were able to wonder what the other would taste like. No more guessing. No more wondering. It was concrete. It was her lips pressed to Harry’s. She laughed lightly after a moment, pressing closer to him. His lips felt like the softest pillow she could ever lay on and she never wanted to get out of bed.

A small breath came out of his nose as he pressed eagerly back against her. She tasted like ginger and chocolate and maybe cherry - her chapstick possibly. He sucked at her lips, never wanting the taste or the feeling to go away. She was so soft and smooth and she responded quickly to his push.

Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck and into his hair as he pulled her closer by her waist. They were attempting to inhale one another, taking inventory of every possible crevice of each other they hadn’t touched before.

Harry’s lips part slightly as he swipes his tongue across her bottom lip. She giggles, tugging him over her and opening up her mouth easily. He pushes forward, a small sound leaving his mouth as he shifts them into a lying position on the couch, her legs encircling his waist.

A hand runs along her jaw, down her neck, across her collarbone and then down her arm. It lands so that he can intertwine their hands together. He feels her smile beneath him and he smiles back despite their lips never leaving one another. His other hand caresses her cheek as he kisses her.

Eventually, his lips roam around her face and on her neck aways, but mostly he focuses on her lips. Both of them are more than happy with this decision as they continue on for what feels like hours. Yet still those hours don’t feel long enough.

She pulls at a button on his shirt at one point, but Harry pulls back.

“I think we should call it a night.”

“Really?” She looks at him with confusion and a swirl of hurt in her eyes.

“It’s late, love, and… we just, I don’t want to rush anything.”

“Alright,” she nods, sitting up and running a finger down the side of his face.

“I think I’ve been doing best friends wrong all this time.” she muses, tracing lines on Harry’s neck now. Her eyes focused on her work.

“And why’s that?” Harry asks, his own hands running up and down her back.

“I’ve never snogged a best friend for hours on end.” She laughs and Harry can’t help his snort.

He moves his head to rest on her shoulder, almost like a hug, but not quite. She doesn’t move away, simply turns her head to continue watching her hands trace him, her work now moving to the back of his neck and his upper back and shoulders.

He hums a little bit, a love song he had played for himself the last few weeks when he tried to fall asleep and all that he could think of was her. She smiles softly and places a kiss on his shoulder.

“Let’s go to bed, darling.”

Harry nods, wrapping his arms around Y/N and carrying her to her room.

The next morning she finds herself wrapped happily in a set of strong, tattooed arms. She sighs content, snuggling closer to the warm naked chest in front of her.

“G’morning,” the man beneath her whispers. His voice a low rumbling rasp, she feels the vibrations below her.

“Morning,” she mumbles, nuzzling her nose into the crevice of his sternum, just above the butterfly that lives on his chest.

He hums at the feeling, slightly shivering from the cold, but pulls her closer nonetheless. She caresses his side with a light touch in response. Her fingers trace unknown patterns down his ribcage and then dip to the ferns peeking from his boxers. He shifts slightly when her fingers travel there. A place no one but him had touched in a long time.

“’ve got a plane to catch,” he says sadly and he brushes a hair from her face as she turns to look at his face.

His neck strains to regard her and he has a bit of a double chin from this angle, but she couldn’t care less. He looked so beautiful staring down at her. She never wanted to look away or lose this image. His eyelashes lightly caressed the skin just below his eyes everytime he blinked. It was quiet enough that if she listened close she could hear each flutter. The eyes behind them were even better, a dark rim of green encases emerald irises that hold black and gold specs, stars and stories swirl hidden beneath it all. She wants to drown in it.

He winks at her as she stares, growing disarmed with her intense gaze on him for so long. Her calming caress keeps him grounded though and she laughs at the wink, relieving him of her scrutiny that he didn’t understand was awe.

She groans, unhappy, “Miss it.”

“I can’t,” he drags out, not wanting to leave either.

“Can’t convince you to stay, no?” She rolls on top of him, pushing her chest against him and giving him doe eyes.

His strong arms encircle her waist as her legs straddle him. She arches more into him and leans down to kiss in between his pecs. Her eyes never leave his face, watching his reaction. It’s his turn to groan with a loud sigh to match. He throws his head back and steals himself to say,

“Not even a chance.”

She remembers when he had begged her to come with him and she smiles at his recycling over her response.

“Fair enough,” she says and rolls off of him. His head falls to the side to watch her get up and begin her day. He takes a deep breath, wishing he didn’t have to leave.

Harry heads back to his place to get ready for his departure. Before he leaves he joins Y/N and Rori for an early tea at the café. They get their drinks to go and walk back to Harry’s together. When they arrive, Harry’s car is waiting and she feels a dryness in her throat. He looks down at Rori and gives him a quick pet. He turns to her and she smiles weakly.

Harry’s hand encircles her wrist, caressing her softly. He leans down quickly and pecks her lips. It feels like he was barely there and then he was gone. It was like a butterfly had landed on her lips and wrist and then it had vanished.

Off his sleek black car goes, soon out of sight and headed for the airport. And there she is, left on Sherwood Avenue. Her fingers move to dance over her lips and then over her jaw and down her neck. Every place his touch had burned her in the past 24 hours. And now he was gone, across the world.

No talk of what came next had been spoken between them. She wasn’t sure what they were and didn’t know if she could handle that talk over the phone. She walked home after a few minutes of standing with her dog in front of Harry’s now vacant home. She sat silently in her house for half of the day.

At dusk, she decides on a run, maybe it will get her mind off her neighbour. She had sat in the same spot for too long. The same spot they had kissed each other last night. Maybe a change of scenery would stop the movie reel of last night that kept playing over and over in her mind.

She runs down the street, specifically keeping her eyes off the lovely home across from her, and keeps running down different streets, past the café, down to the park, and then finally reaches a stream that is past some brush and trees at the end of the park. There’s a bench there that seems like a nice place to rest.

Her music has been playing the entire time, the playlist she chose was inundated with Taylor Swift - but not chosen for that specific reason. Each song thankfully not from 1989. At least not until she’s running through the park. “You are in love” begins to play, it’s soft Twin Peaks-esque opening is familiar to her. It fits the cool rush of wind against her skin and the leaves that have turned brown as fall has worn on. She’d listened to it a thousand times. Sometimes thinking about the man who inspired the song, but all those times were long before she had ever met him.

Now that she knew him, she almost skipped it, but shook her head to herself feeling silly for feeling uncomfortable listening to a song she liked. Her run turns into a walk as she reaches the stream. The chorus begins. Taylor softly serenades about being in love. About a man in love with a woman. About Harry being in love with her.

She takes a deep breath, hearing the words a little different this time. Taylor sings “You kiss on sidewalks” and this morning flashes in her mind. She looks out at the stream, the water rushing along as she stands there, still catching her breath. Then the next part of the song reaches into her heart and twists it with all its might.

“One night he wakes, strange look on his face, pauses, then says, ‘you’re my best friend’.”

And that’s it. She takes out her headphones, her breath no longer capable of being caught. She breathes heavier and heavier. Her throat was as tight and dry as when Harry had left this morning. Possibly even worse. She can’t even swallow this time. Her phone and headphones are discarded on the bench as she raises her hands to her face and begins to pace beside the stream. Her eyes eventually match the body of water next to her and she feels a sob wrack through her. She couldn’t breath, her running and panic had brought her asthma to the forefront and she was hyperventilating, gasping for air. She was drowning and no one was there to help her.

Tears stream down her face and she moves her hands to her thighs as she tries to calm down, not knowing how she reached this level of distraughtness. Deep breaths she reminds herself. She licks her lips and shuts her eyes. “Just ground yourself,” she whispers.

When she’s finally gotten ahold of herself she sits at the bench and stares into the stream. A distorted version of herself seems to stare back. It’s constantly moving, swirling, and changing and as she watches that version of herself she wants to scream. Her tears had faded awhile ago, but the fear was still there.

The last few months had been so easy, had been so perfect. Going over to each other’s houses and being with each other. But if she ignored history wasn’t she destined to repeat it? When she heard the confessional of the man Taylor had loved in her song, when he had told her she was his best friend which meant he was in love, she felt hurt. She knew how their story ended. Taylor and Harry’s. He left. He left her when she needed him and today, Y/N realized it’s what he does. It wasn’t his fault, she didn’t blame him for leaving today. It was his job, not another woman. But holy fuck when she heard Taylor sing those lyrics, it felt like she had been hit on the head out of nowhere. Reminded that she had been living in a fairytale for the last few months, swept up in a fantasy that she wasn’t meant to be a part of.

She ran a hand over her face, rubbing slightly at her cheek. The same cheek Harry had caressed last night and she sighed. She stared off into the trees and then shook her head, standing up and heading back home. Alone.

Harry calls her when he arrives at LAX. She doesn’t pick up. He calls the next day. She doesn’t pick up. He texts and receives no response for three days.

She thought she didn't know what she would say.

“I listened to too much of your ex’s music and now I’m insecure.”

“I feel like you’re gonna leave me someday so I’m too afraid to do anything with you.”

“Is it alright if we’re just friends, I don’t think my heart could take the pain of falling in love with you and then losing you.”

“You can’t promise me forever and after just one kiss I knew I couldn’t do anything less.”

“The price of loving you is far too high.”

She types them all out and then deletes them every time. Too scared. Instead:

“I’m busy with work, I don’t know when I won’t be. Let’s just plan on meeting up when you’re home.”

Harry nods when he sees the text on Friday. He tells her to take care and make sure she gets enough rest. He wipes away the stray tear that decided to escape his eyes after reading her response. He exhales and looks to the sky, wondering what could have possibly happened since he had left. He sends little emojis over the next few weeks that she puts a heart on, but she doesn’t communicate otherwise.

Harry doesn’t ask her to pick him up. Instead he sends flowers to her house the Thursday before he returns. They make her smile and she wonders if maybe she can move past every red flag she feels like she sees. After a month away, she can’t lie and say she’s not excited for Harry to return. She missed his warm skin and his soft hair. She missed everything and the flowers had only made her wish it had been Harry on her doorstep a couple days early.

He gets home on the 12th and he’s at her door after throwing his things in his entryway.

She opens the door and bites her lip as she takes in who it is.

Harry says her name breathlessly and she melts. Her doubts fly out the window for the moment and all she wants are his lips on hers.

She falls into him and his lips are on hers. They twist into one another and their lips move softly yet urgently against one another. Not sure how to explain the last four weeks, they both attempt to say everything in that kiss. All her pain and confusion press into Harry’s lip with each breath. All his sadness and longing tug at her lips as he sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and hungers for more.

He pulls back and stares straight into her eyes, “Come to Italy with me for the holidays.”

She tilts her head confused, trying to catch her own breath.

“I’m not sure what happened while I was gone, love. But I know I missed you and I can’t go another month without you. Just say yes and we’ll take it from there...Please,” he begs, voice cracking as he holds her cheek.

She wets her lips and opens them to speak, but her voice betrays her. Instead she just nods and squeaks out a noise of approval. Too elated to speak, they press their lips back together and she pulls Harry into her home.

December was far too cold to snog out in the freezing night air.

#harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles one shot #neighbor!harry #I live in the neighbourhood #part 2 #part 3 to come #pls rb and message me ily #surprisingly somewhat proofread

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keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Note

Okay but this cheating Drabble/one shot thing you got going on is GOLDEN. Dabi and S/O tie up hawks so he has to watch dabi be better to S/O than hawks ever was.I have so many thoughts right now.Head full,head so full.

thank u for this one. part 4, the final one, of the cheating dabihawks x reader drabble series. a spontaneous bit of continuity :’^)

also, throwing this in here to, i just hit 2k. thank y’all so much. like. endlessly. thank u for engaging and reading and being here. i love y’all.

now, heres some FOOD

warnings: humiliation, degradation, revenge sex, restraints, subby keigo

|| part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 (final) ||

Watching Keigo squirm in the wooden chair, bound and nearly wingless, was fucking heaven. He looked fairly pathetic, all things considered. Ordering him to strip naked while Dabi gave you the same treatment was euphoric. The little, swollen tears that dripped down Keigo’s face might’ve been concerning, but the slap of his fat cock against his abs was telltale.

The bastard enjoyed it.

It had to be humiliating, watching one of your worst enemies (or fuck buddies? It was hard to tell with them) feel up your ex while you moaned, all high and gasping and pretty, just for Dabi.

You took pleasure in strapping him into the plain chair. He’d shuddered as you tightened his binds, cock leaking against his tummy.

You spit in his mouth for it.

...

His dick leaked more.

“God, he’s such a slut, should've known,” Dabi drawled from the bed, seated on its edge. He patted his clothed thigh. “Come on, over here, baby.”

You complied, swaying your hips in a way that you knew drove Keigo wild. Or, did, maybe, if he hadn’t been lying about that as well. You could hardly care. Maybe Keigo was the sex demon in bed that tabloids made him out to be, but he didn’t grace you with that side of himself. You assumed, rage boiling in your gut, that that was more than likely saved for his side piece.

You dropped onto Dabi’s lap, facing Keigo with a grin on your face. Dabi instantly was on you, guiding and twisting your face to tongue fuck your mouth. There wasn’t reverie in it (though, Dabi had shown you that in the aftermath of it all), it was just ownership.

Claiming.

Your hands wound into Dabi’s hair, his hands going to your tits, your thighs, even scalding the skin of your throat.

You loved every second of it.

When you stole a glance at Keigo, you nearly came on the spot.

He was stone still, mouth open, and nearly drooling. His cock stood flushed and proud against the toned plane of his stomach. A steady stream of preek leaked from the tip, a few stray tears splattering down and mixing into the mess.

“Messy boy,” you hummed, quickly turning back to Dabi.

Dabi was happy to indulge in your revenge fantasy. You wanted Keigo to feel like shit, and Keigo got off on feeling like shit and wanted to feel like shit for being such a piece of shit. It all worked out squarely. Plus, Dabi would get to watch the hero’s mind shatter while he reamed you so hard, you’d pass out.

You were too good for Keigo, anyways. Way too nice, way too pretty, way too fucking caring to be with someone who fucked around with you like you were just common trash. Dabi truly did respect you, especially since seeing the way you ground the heel of your words and actions into Keigo’s ego.

Dabi liked seeing people break. Getting to be the tool to break you while shattering Keigo (and his cock) was his absolute pleasure.

You writhed on his lap, grinding your hips against his stiffened cock, whines bubbling from your lips when the balls of the piercings rubbed against your puffy clit.

“Awww, Keigo,” Dabi sneered the hero’s true name like it was rotten wine. “How does it feel to see your little dove getting someone else’s cock?”

Keigo whined, biting his lip so hard, it might as well have bled.

“I’m not his,” you bit out, tugging at the roots of Dabi’s hair, tilting his head. You sucked along his neck, relishing the low groans and moans he released. They were counterpointed, like some sort of sick harmony, with Keigo’s high whines and... pleas?

You would’ve thought that Keigo would have begged for forgiveness. Begged to be heard out, begged to be given another chance. You expected the same dribble he’d been spewing since you’d caught him those weeks ago.

But, what you were given was sweet, sweet cries for—

“Please, please, one of you, please — !” Keigo sobbed against his binds. “Touch me!”

Maybe you would’ve paused.

But, not Dabi.

Dabi fucked up into you in a single, swift motion, slick gushing from your cunt onto the sheets below. You yelped, sobbing into the air as Dabi gave you a few precious moments to flutter around his girth. His scarred hands and arms hooked under your thighs, bearing all of you to Keigo.

You were all certain that the visceral image of Dabi, balls deep in your cunt, wouldn’t ever leave any of your minds, no matter the angle that you were viewing or experiencing it from.

“Please —” Keigo sputtered, cock head burning a deep red. It was cruel to leave him untouched. “It hurts.”

Good.

“You know,” Dabi huffed, raising you up, then dropping you onto his cock again. You tore the air with your screams of hot pleasure. “You’re hopeless, Keigo.”

Keigo cried, truly cried, hanging his head. You were too fucked out to give your own retorts, mind spinning as Dabi fucked you perfectly with each thrust, hard and deep.

“You had such a nice piece of ass. Real sweet. Cares, really does. Fucks like a whore and pleases like a wife.”

You and Keigo both keened, the shame of it all burning your cores like hot irons.

“But, you, you self-righteous, lazy-ass bastard, left your sweet girl on the sidelines for months? Couldn’t even bother to tell her. Strung her along like cheap pearls, right, Kei’?”

Keigo legitimately wailed at the use of his real name, breaths coming harsh and fast. Your head lolled back against Dabi’s chest, eyes wide, glazed and fucked out.

“That’s fine, though. I can fuck her like she deserves. Slow and deep if she wants, rough and fast, any way and any time. She’s more than earned it, putting up with a prick like you for so long.”

Keigo hung his head, hair soaked with sweat as his hips attempted to roll against his binds. You were begging under your breath, little words and sweet nothings as Dabi thumbed at your clit. He was getting close, all of the monologuing getting him a lot more hot than he anticipated.

“And you know what else, Keigo? You threw her away for some cheap model who only wanted your ‘name’. You really are the hero people say you are — throwing away what matters most to you!”

Oh.

Dabi fucked up one last time into you, slamming against your cervix and filling you. He kept his hand on your stomach, pressing and feeling the twitching of your cunt as you spasmed through your own orgasm, going rigid on his chest.

Your sweet cries of his name suffocated the air.

And Keigo?

Poor fucking Keigo.

As Dabi roused himself from his euphoria, leaving a few stray kisses on your crown, he paused.

What a sick fuck.

Keigo’s head hung limp. For a moment, Dabi thought he had passed out.

Oh no.

Keigo was sucking in breaths, panting like the hound he was, cock soft and sticky in his lap. Cum painted his face, tangled in his hair, dripping onto the floor and chair below as he weeped with a relieved smile on his face.

This might just work out.

#justfuckingpeachy #salem writes #drabble #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #dabi #hawks #dabihawks x reader #dabi x reader x hawks #thank u all :'^)#just a lil weepy with some beer in my tum over here #enjoy the food #:''^))

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violetnotez · 4 years ago

Text

Its Chirstmasssssssssssssssssssssssssss!!!! I finished this up all last night, so I hope this is at least coherent!

This is for the BNHA Hangout Christmas Collab! Here is a link to future masterpost for the fics for the event!

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

Shoto x reader | one shot

Word Count: 1.5k+

Warnings: cussing

Synposis: When Shoto realizes you’ve been particularly lonely without him during the holiday season, he decided to get you an extra special gift

the music collection | buy me a ko-fi! | requests open for haikyuu+jujutsu kaisen

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“Shoto-do you really have to go?”

You asked, a pout on your lips as you gazed at your boyfriend.

You were still cuddled up in your shared bed, the heat from Shoto’s skin already dissipating out of the sheets.

You pursed your lips, sitting up crossed leg as You watched him slide each button of his shirt sleeve into their slots, his washed, bi colored hair slightly wet from his shower.

“You know it’s not fair to look that good and then just leave,” you gave him a fake, stern look, earning a small smirk from the man.

He continued working up the shirt, looking sleek yet-well-delicious.

Shoto was just too handsomr for his own good-sharp jawline, perfect skin, piercing bi colored eyes, not to mention his amazing body….sometimes you had to wonder how you were able to get such a flawless man to end up with you.

He finished with his other sleeve, peeking a look at you as he slicked his hair back with his right hand, the strands mixing and framing his face perfectly,

why’d he have to look that good?

“It’s not as if I want to leave, dear-but I do have work,”

You cuddled deeper into the sweatshirt you were wearing, your hands dissappearing in the sleeves.

“But you’re always working-you cant take one day off?”

Shoto chuckled at your obvious neediness, making his way over to where you were sitting. He leaned across the bed to be in front of your sulking form, brushing a piece of your bed head from your face as he laid a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Evil doesn’t take a day off love,”

“Why do you always have to be so-so stoic all the time,” You giggled, playfully placing your hand on his chest and pushing him back.

Even though you and Shoto had been living together for over a year now, it never ceased to amaze you how much the man worked. After working at an agency after UA, Shoto had been incredibly busy-and being the #3 hero, you could see why. If it wasn’t a late night call, he was patrolling, interviewing sidekicks, training, teaching students on their hero studies, interviewing with magazines….he always had something to do.

You couldn’t get mad at him though-he had warned you in the beginning, but you were also accustomed to the hero life as well- well, somewhat.

You had gone to UA to be part of the hero suit course, and had become suit designer for the top heroes (hence how you met Shoto). You witnessed day in and day out how difficult it truly was to be a hero, even if you weren’t one yourself, so you didn’t mind when Todoroki was gone all the time. Yes, it got lonely at times, especially during the holiday season, but you made sure to keep a smile on for him.

“Don’t forget, I did take Christmas off,” Shoto gave you a small grin, his bicolored eyed searching to please you.

You smiled back, your heart thumping out of your chest as you poked him gently in the chest.

“After I asked you too,” you corrected, a teasing tone in your voice.

-And thank god too, I would have so lonely by myself,” you tried to chuckle at your remark, making the situation light.

Shoto knew you too well though-something about your voice didnt sound as happy and light as before. When you joked with him, your laughs were more cheerful and your smile was brighter-but something about you right now felt strange...as if you were holding something back from him.

Shoto’s grin turned into concern, his digits cupping your cheeks gently and guiding your eyes to look at his.

“Have you been feeling lonely lately?” He asked bluntly, your eyes growing wide.

Man-you couldn't hide anything from him.

You chuckled nervously, looking to the side, guilt beginning to fill your chest.

“I-I, no, it’s fine, really, I was only kidding,” you chuckled, your voice taking on a higher pitch.

“You don’t seem to be kidding,” Shoto bite the side of his lip, trying his best to make eye contact with you, “if you want to tell me something, you don’t have to be afraid.”

“Be afraid of the number three hero-“ You rolled your eyes playfully, a soft smirk on your lips, “-never.”

Shoto gave a small grin, worry still in his eyes. He knew something was strange about you lately, the way you seemed to be always craving for him. He hated to admit it, it boosted his ego somewhat to have you were so desperate for his touch- but he knew it wasnt healthy for you to be always missing him.

With him being a pro hero, he had quite alot more duties than most could imagine- which sadly left little for him to indulge in his own personal life. Shoto felt deeply lucky to have someone like you who understood his busy schedule, never batting an eye when he had to cancel yet another date or leave you by yourself on countless nights...but it still left a gnawing sensation of guilt sitting in his stomach.

“Im fine Shoto,” your voice broke into his thoughts, your tone gentle and sweet like a sun kissed cloud, “really.”

Shoto sighed, his thick lashes fanning his cheek. You were stubborn at times, especially when you wanted to reassure him-which only affirmed that you really werent feeling all that great as you said you were. But Shoto didnt want to push it any further- maybe you were really okay, and he was overthinking it….and he was going to be late if he didnt leave soon-

“Go kick some ass for me, kay?”

you gave him a wide smile, placing another quick kiss on his lips.

Shoto blinked a few times, a rush of adrenaline filling his body as he felt your skin against his. His lips tingled from the agonizingly quick touch-he took it upon him to give you a deeply intense kiss, the rush making you breathless.

Shoto pulled away, his eyes having the rarest glint of mischief as he stared back into yours

“Of course love,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

“Ya ready Shoto?” You grinned, your body snuggled into your comfiest pair of pajamas and your fingers warmed by a hot cup of cocoa.

Christmas Day has finally came, and thankfully, Shoto kept his promise-he would be staying the whole day with you with no interruptions.

You were just so excited to finally have one day to selfishly love your boyfriend, and on a holiday too!

The room almost felt surreal-it was early morning, the Christmas tree you two decorated light up like a Star, class Christmas music playing in the background, homemade cookies littering the apartment in a sweet aroma and the room in a romantic warm haze of lights.

It just felt so unbelievable perfect and comfortable, Shoto looking sheepishly excited and nervous.

“I think you should go first,” you smiled up at him as he sat down next to you, black coffee snuggled into his hand (in a DynaMIGHT mug, of course gifted to him by the hero himself).

Shoto bit his lip, seemingly trying to hide a smile as he set his mug down on the coffee table.

“Not to be rude love,” he grinned, his hands gently grabbing a large box from under the tree. The paper was a shiny golden hue, snowflakes on the paper reflecting like glitter from the lights on the tree. He slide the box against the wooden floor, being strangely gentle with the contents.

“But my gift cant wait.”

Your eyebrows were knitted together, a confused grin on your lips.

The box was pretty big-what did he get you now?

Shoto never seemed to give you endlessly expensive gifts, having no concept of what was considered fancy or exorbitant- trips to places you could only dream of, hefty amounts of clothes and jewelry, merchandise from your favorite shows...hell you had to talk him out of buying you a car one time-this guy would drop anything to get you whatever you wanted.

And that made you guilty as hell whenever he did-so what did he give you this time around?

Your mind was racing as you looked at the box, trying to read whatever he was thinking about on his face.

“I swear to god Shoto if you bought me that expensive gaming system-“

He chuckled at your obviously guilty face, shaking his head as he smiled.

“No, no it’s nothing like that-“ he said, giving you a mischievous grin, “I think you’ll like it much better than that.”

You blinked a few times, your mind going completely blank.

What could be better than a PS5, Xbox, or Switch?

You looked down at the box, feeling strangely nervous as you obeyed Shoto’s wishes, slowly opening the top lid….until it rustles.

The box.

Moved on its own.

You squeaked out in surprise, your hands slamming the barely opened lid back down and looking at Shoto for help.

He had never seen you look so adorably confused in his life, a rosy hue on his cheeks as he looked at you with a loving expression.

“It’s okay,” he whispered reassuringly as he wrapped his hands nervously around yours.

You felt him guide your hands up, you both now lifting the lid off the large box.

Shoto took it and placed it gently on the ground, sitting back to watch you look into the box.

The box rustled again, your mind so utterly confused….what could make a box do that?

“Shoto I-“ you tried to ask, but all he did was nod to the box, signaling for you to just look.

You did as you were told, getting on your knees to peer inside…

A gasp left your lips, your heart beating out of your chest as you looked inside at the sweet little baby kitten playing with their bowl of yarn in the box.

“Hi baby,” you cooed in awe at the little baby, your hands scooping them out and snuggling them to your chest.

They were so soft and warm, their fur as white as a snowball with rosy pink paws.

“Oh my god-Shoto-you really didn’t- are they really-?” You were in such a state of shock, you couldn’t seem to form any coherent words as you looked at your sheepish boyfriend.

“I-I didn’t know exactly what to get you...but after seeing how much you missed me throughout the day, I thought it was fitting to get you a companion for when I’m gone,” he smiled, his digits nervously fidgeting in his lap as he waited for your approval.

You petted the little creature on your chest, it’s big doe eyes staring at you with such confusion you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Shoto…it’s perfect,” you smiled at your boyfriend, leaning in to plant him a kiss on his lips.

You giggled at his expression, clearly not expecting your show of affection as his cheeks turned a fiery red.

“I-I’m glad to here that,”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

None of these characters or shows are my own, only the storylines and narratives I create are mine. Copying, stealing, plagiarizing, rewording, or using my storylines in other media, claiming to be your own, or reposting without my consent is not allowed.

#bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shoto x reader #bnha shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha shoto todoroki x reader #mha shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha todoroki x reader #mha todoroki x reader #shoto x reader fluff #shoto todoroki x reader fluff #todoroki x reader fluff

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mightymorphingayagenda · 4 years ago

Text

So I received an ask a few months ago about my thoughts on nessian having kids and then last night I had a lot of wine and this happened so, enjoy!?

This was one of those little moments Cassian would bundle up, like some cherished Christmas ornament, and tuck inside his heart forever. If his heart remained in one piece. It was so full he was worried it might break.

The smell of Nesta’s perfume and shortbread had lured him to the kitchen, where he’d found her sat at the table, bottom lip tucked between her teeth and brow furrowed in concentration as she’d iced a cookie. The beam of her high cheek bones a blushing pink in the warmth.

Cue tears brimming.

And he couldn’t even blame it on the presence of any smoke because by some Christmas miracle, his girlfriend had managed to cook something without nearly burning his house down.

Júlia had tucked herself into his girlfriend’s lap, and was mimicking her little mannerisms. Brows dramatically knotted and biting her lip. She’d even clearly tried to match their pyjamas, Nesta’s lose fitting red pants and white tank top a mirror to his daughter’s own long sleeve white shirt and fuzzy red pants.

The two of them were hunched over a cookie each, armed with little icing tubes and humming along to Mud’s ‘Lonely This Christmas’.

“One of those better be for me or it’s the naughty list for you too.”

“Daddy!” Júlia whipped her little head round, grinning excitedly in the way that children did- less actual smile more oh my god look at all my teeth.

“The one and only,” he smiled right back, picking her up as she tried to literally jump from the chair to Nesta’s terror and amusement.

He made a little mwa noise with every kiss he planted on her cheeks, and she was giggling in his arms uncontrollably. Probably hopped up on sugar if the crumbs on the table and the green frosting in her dark hair was anything to go by.

Finally he stopped and his daughter didn’t miss a beat. “Daddy me and Nesta made cookies and we even made the icing on our own and it’s all different colours and she’s really good decorating and she taught me how to draw a snow man!”

It was impossible to determine where one word ended and the other began. Perhaps his daughter had invented her own word several hundred syllables long.

“Can I see?” Cassian pleaded excitedly, putting Júlia down when she nodded so hard he was a little concerned her head might fall off.

“Hi you,” Nesta’s voice like velvet hummed soft and low as he leaned down to give her a chaste kiss, murmuring his own “hey, sweetheart”. Her lips tasted like sugar and he swore he saw a few granules dusted through her thick hair as he pulled back to asses one of Júlia’s creations.

“No way you made that!”

“I did I can show you I’ll show you how to draw a snowman too. And it’s harder than with pencils daddy, because you have to squeeze but you can’t squeeze it too much.”

“She’s got very steady hands,” Nesta said, like she was proud, her head falling back against Cassian’s chest where he stood behind her. He began massaging her shoulders gently. “She could be a brain surgeon,” his girlfriend continued.

Cassian was dangerously close to getting all choked up again.

He’d been a little worried asking Nesta to keep an eye on Júlia this evening. Not because he thought she’d let his six year old start licking plug sockets or anything. It was just they’d never hung out just the two of them before. He and Nesta had only been together eight months and he’d only introduced his daughter to his girlfriend two months ago.

But he hadn’t had anyone else to call when the snow had started falling with a vengeance on his way back from picking up a Christmas tree. It wasn’t Mor’s week with Júlia so she and Emerie had booked a Christmas mini-break, and his brothers were at a conference. So he’d called Nesta.

She’d been more than happy to pick up Lia from school and keep an eye on her. Almost as happy as she’d been nervous. He’d read it in her voice even through the phone. Nesta had never wanted kids, she’d told him as much, and it had put the brakes on their first date for a while. But Júlia had a mum, two in fact, and the idea that there was any pressure on Nesta in that department had slowly began to dissipate.

Still, Cassian had felt a tiny bit...scared. A bit crushed by his wanting them to adore each other as much as he adored them. So walking in and finding them like that, it had taken the wind out of him.

“I am going to be a baker!” Júlia proclaimed from her own seat now, knees tucked beneath her so she could reach the table.

“What will you call you bakery?” Nesta asked with genuine interest. It was lovely. She spoke to Júlia the same way she would an adult. There was no entertaining or humouring his daughter’s insane babbling, she treated every word as though it held the weight that of a wisened librarian’s might.

“Lia’s Bakery and I will you give you free cookies!”

“What about me? Do I get free cookies?”Cassian enquired. “I haven’t had a single one of your amazing cookies yet.”

“You weren’t here! And you didn’t help make them so I don’t think you should get any.”

“I was getting our Christmas tree!”

“Yes where is this tree that has kept you so busy?” Nesta demanded, tilting her head back to look up at him with arched brows. A naughty twinkle in her dove-blue eyes.

She loved teasing him, but Cassian always gave as good as he got when it came to her. With Júlia, well, his daughter got away with murder. Which Nesta found endlessly amusing.

“It’s by the front door. I think I’m gonna need a cookie to restore my energy before moving it again,” he looked to Lia.

“Fine,” she huffed. “But you’re not allowed to pick it, Nesta has to pick it.”

The way she said Nesta. Like she were one of the Disney Princess she loved to tell him about even though he’d literally just watched the film with her. It made his heart explode like a powdery snowball.

“Hmmmm, what about this one,” Nesta hummed, picking up a sugary treat frosted with a big red heart and offering it up for Júlia’s approval.

“Yes, daddy can have that one,” she nodded curtly.

“You can have a bite now, and the rest once you’ve put the tree up,” Nesta told him as he rested folded forearms against the back of her chair and hunched down to tuck his head over her shoulder, tilted a little to give her his best I-fucking-adore-you-woman eyes.

“Tease,” he smirked.

“Strategic,” she corrected, feeding him the cookie.

“Mmmmm,” he groaned. He wasn’t even putting it on, it tasted fucking delicious. Buttery and somehow melting and crumbing in his mouth at the same time.

“You’ve got a little something,” Nesta laughed, brushing the manicured pad of her thumb against her bottom lip.

“I was saving you a taste,” Cassian grinned, giving her a gentle kiss.

“Nesta doesn’t want kisses she wants the Christmas tree!” Júlia exclaimed, exasperated and impatient.

“You read my mind, Lia,” Nesta said.

Cassian chuckled, pushing off the back of Nesta’s chair and wondering back through to the front door.

Lia was hot on his heels, grabbing Nesta’s hand and tugging her from her seat.

It was a fucking massive tree, and his daughter’s eyes were wide as saucers as she took it in, halting in front of the sofa and nearly vibrating with excitement. By contrast his girlfriend collapsed onto the coach and he was tempted to laugh again. Childcare had clearly done a number on her.

But apparently she wasn’t so exhausted she couldn’t manage a little ogling of him.

Cassian might have been smirking by the time he got the tree upright in its stand, preening a little at the way Nesta’s gaze had lingered on his arms as he’d hauled 120 pounds of festivity about.

A fresh blush blemished her cheeks and she was rolling her full bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him. Knees half tucked beneath her and an arm laying across the back of the sofa, her ear resting against it and lose hair falling carelessly about the cushion.

He was going to wife her up so hard.

“Right, how about some decorations then?” He grinned down at Lia, having thrown Nesta a wink she’d batted off with a roll of her eyes.

“We did them in the colours look, we put them out colour coorninated.”

“Co-ordinated,” Nesta corrected fondly from the sofa as Cassian took in the neat sections of ornaments laid out on the floor.

“Co-or-din-ated” Júlia repeated, already on the floor and searching for the first glittering item to hang.

“We’ve gotta do the lights first though, anjinho,” he reminded her.

“Nesta we have twinkly lights and they can flash or you can leave them so they are always shining or when you click it you make it so they go like,” Lia wiggled her fingers in the air which Cassian recognised referred to the cascading setting on the lights, but knew meant nothing to Nesta.

She laughed none the less, Júlia’s happiness and excitement infectious.

“Will you show me?” She asked, propping her head up on her fist.

“You wanna go grab them, Lia? They’re in my office, on the desk.”

“Yeah I will go get them!” She yelled, already barrelling up the stairs, her little feed padding up the wooden slates like she were merely a skeleton of springs bundled up in the body of a little girl.

Nesta laughed again, a wide smile revealing white teeth and one of her beauty spots quirking in a dimple as she watched.

Once Júlia was out of sight however, Cassian was making a play for her attention. Falling onto the sofa beside her and throwing an arm around her waist.

“I think we have a problem,” he sighed happily, a smirk that promised trouble tugging at his mouth.

“We do?” She asked, letting her head rest against the pillow that was his bicep. Looking up at him.

“I only got one tree. But I have two angels.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and groaned through a subtle laugh, burying her lovely face into his shoulder and thus a telltale smile.

“You’re the worst.”

“And you, are the best,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her hair and she looked up, smiling casual and soft. “Thank you for looking after her tonight.”

Nesta pressed her mouth to his, kissing him with a supple pressure for moment. “My pleasure,” she said as they pulled back just barely.

Cassian grinned again at that and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with his free hand. “How was it?” He asked.

“Honestly?” She said, a hand coming to his opposite shoulder, thumb rubbing soft circles there. “Made me fall in love with you all over again.”

Brows immediately rising he let slip an, “oh shit.”

Nesta laughed. “I mean it,” she said, head tilting a little as she watched him. “I don’t think I ever actually appreciated what your being a dad meant. There’s this whole person, this kind, clever, funny person who’s just perfect and you made her, from scratch. And you’re raising her and every little thing she does is because of what you’ve taught her it just...” she trailed off. Overcome by a sentiment she couldn’t put into words.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Cassian asked. Unable to help himself. And if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with how she made his heart ache in the best way, he would’ve noticed a similar ache in his cheeks, because he was smiling like crazy.

“I know we weren’t meant to see each other and if you have plans of course you should do those but, well you’re here now, and judging by those very sexy pyjamas you’re staying the night?”

Laughing Nesta slapped at his hand playfully as it slid from her knee, up her thigh to take a greedy handful of her ass, her jersey pyjama bottoms soft beneath his touch.

“Lia and I are going to go ice skating tomorrow. She’d love it if you came.”

“Really?”

“In fact I think she’ll be heartbroken if you don’t,” he admitted.

“You sure you want me there? I know you have this sad little crush on me or whatever but you’re allowed to want time with just the two of you-“

“Shut up,” he laughed. “Of course I want you there. Really it’d just be cruel sending you home to pine over me-"

“Asshole,” she grinned.

“Daddy I will put the lights on but I need to sit your shoulders!”

They both turned their heads as Lia hurried down the stairs with strings of lights spilling over in her little hands.

“Wowwowwow slow down,” he leapt up. “We don’t run down the stairs, do we?”

“Can we sled down the stairs again this year?” Júlia begged excitedly as Cassian scooped her up at the foot of the stairs and held her at his chest with one arm.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he told Nesta. “We have never once done that ever.”

His girlfriend laughed as she stood up and Júlia shook her head very seriously.

“Never ever,” she agreed.

“Then I’m going to beat you both when we do it this year, because I’m a stair sledding pro,” Nesta flicked Lia’s nose playfully.

Her wide eyed gasp made it seem as if Nesta had told her she was Santa.

“Don’t make me haul the mattresses out into the hall right now,” Cassian warned.

“Bring it, old man.”

Honestly Cassian would lose to her gladly, so long as it wasn’t the only ride she’d be taking on his mattress this evening.

* @featherymalignancy

* @sleeping-and-books

* @my-fan-side

* @hearts-of-persephone

* @witchling13

* @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter

* @typicalmidnightsoul

* @sezkins79

* @thebitchupstairs

* @fourshizzle149

* @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies -

* @yikesitsmaddie

* @jjellybean

* @thronesandstars

* @mis-lil-red

* @rhysandsdarlingfeyre

* @cf-mist-and-fury

* @breezy-freezy

* @dayanna-hatter

* @anishake

* @candid-confetti

* @goldbooksblack

* @impossiblescissorspeachpaper

* @justgiu12

* @twansy17

* @caotica-e-quieta

* @singinginthedarktimes

* @carebear1339

* @keshavomit

* @januarystears

* @bookstantrash

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ahgaseda · 4 years ago

Text

aura | one

driving me crazy, look in my eyes, follow me, come here, dance with me now, I’m gonna make you feel like that...

summary : back again at a camp for kids that can’t behave, you are still brokenhearted over your ill-fated romance with Jaebeom, until your friend Jackson offers to help make your ex jealous in exchange for helping him land the most unattainable girl at camp.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, recurring alcohol or recreational drug use, graphic sexual content, brief mentions of illegal activities, potentially triggering elements involving toxic relationships and emotional manipulation, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

The sun was too bright. Rays pierced the gossamer curtains and shone into your eyes. You vaguely recollected your mother bursting in and throwing the windows open, ordering you to get up. Now, the sun had risen and you were cutting it close.

With a grumble, you threw the blanket over your head and rolled over, eager to sleep the day away. And maybe tomorrow, too.

Being in a constant state of denial and dread was exhausting.

Slowly, you drifted back into a dream. Well, maybe less a dream and more a memory. Perhaps it was all a fantasy at this point, the way you recounted it, lingering on only the good parts.

You remembered every insignificant detail of that night - the night you reached your greatest high and deepest low in the span of an hour. The moon had been full and the crickets were singing. The air had cooled from its typical summer heat, but the dirt was warm beneath your bare toes.

Sneaking off in the middle of the night with a boy. You would have never in your wildest dreams done something so reckless.

But he said he wanted to watch the stars and kiss you beneath the moonlight. Endlessly. You escaped with him down the beaten path, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. Then, he backed you against a tree and kissed you like he had completely run out of patience.

You remembered smiling against his mouth, giggling when his tongue teased your bottom lip. Your hands were on his shoulders while he cradled your face. At some point, you broke away and he stared at the sparkles in your eyes.

“I love you,” was all he said. The first of many lies.

You followed him. It didn’t matter where he went, you were ready to follow him off the edge of the earth if he asked. Jaebeom held you so tenderly, yet tight and secure. You had no hesitations and certainly no regrets when he laid you on your back, kissing you restlessly.

But it was a lie.

You moaned his name when Jaebeom pressed his lips to your neck. You could still remember how your heart thundered uncontrollably whilst he tongued his way between your breasts. You had never wanted someone as badly as you wanted Jaebeom. The boy who made you fall in love with him.

But it was all a lie.

Even the way you whimpered when he took you was a persistent echo in your mind. The noises he had drawn from you were carnal, to say the least. His skin was hot beneath your fingertips, his hair damp when you tangled your hand through his strands, and his naked body heavy on top of yours. He kissed you with such gentle affection when he buried himself inside you.

But it was still a lie.

You truly believed he was making love to you, every last inch of you. He was all you knew in that moment. With Jaebeom, you lived like there was no tomorrow. And you would never forget the way his face tensed with ecstasy, how he groaned your name when he filled you. All you cared about in that moment was his pleasure - his love. It was all you ever wanted.

But it was his biggest lie.

You opened your eyes, tears escaping down your cheeks, and forced away the bitter memories. Every beautiful moment spent with Jaebeom kept coming back and you wanted to set them all aflame until you forgot every single fucking detail.

You remembered how he smelled, how he felt. How his arms flexed around you when he hugged you close. How he smiled when he made you laugh. How he kissed your hand at the most random of times. How he whispered his love into the sensitive skin beneath your ear.

Your heart couldn’t take it anymore. What was once sugar on your tongue turned to ash and dust in your mouth. You didn’t think you were capable of this much pain.

Jaebeom had taught you a very hard lesson. And yet, though you would never admit it to anyone, you still loved him.

Suddenly, the door to your bedroom burst open and a familiar voice announced, “Rise and shine, dear!”

It belonged to your best friend, your childhood rival, and most inconveniently, your next door neighbor.

“Jackson,” you groaned, muffled against your pillow. “Not now. Go away.”

“Baby, you know we on a schedule,” he chirped with the speed of a man who had already ingested too much coffee, grabbing your comforter and ripping it off the bed without mercy.

You cried out at the unexpected cold on your bare legs, curling into the fetal position to try and trap some warmth to your body. You then bounced lightly on the mattress as Jackson leapt into the air and landed on your bed in the most spectacular fashion.

His face moved predictably before yours, inches away, and he was sporting a grin that could be filed under Jackson’s trademarked twisted delight. “It’s camp day,” he said excitedly.

You blinked. “I know.”

Jackson sat up and reached over to smack your butt. “Get up,” he yelled, sidling off your bed. “Breakfast will get cold.”

You huffed profanities under your breath and clambered after him.

Downstairs, your mother and stepfather sat at the kitchen table. Maids attended to them, waiting on their every move. Such was commonplace in the penthouses of preternaturally wealthy people.

“Ah, I knew you could handle it, Jackson,” your mother crooned.

Jackson plopped down at one end of the table, opposite your stepfather with his nose buried in a newspaper. You finished tying the knot of your fluffy bathrobe and took the empty seat across from your mother.

“Everything is packed and loaded in the car,” she informed, her tone a little harsher where you were concerned.

“I promise, Mom,” you began, eyes cast downward. “I won’t go back there again.”

It was true. You were so caught up in negative ways of coping that by the time you realized you were going to get yourself sent back to the one place you would be forced to see Jaebeom again, it was too late.

“Well, if only you had found that resolve last year,” she chided, stabbing a piece of melon with her fork.

You clocked a glance at your friend. Jackson happily stuffed his face, eating everything in sight. Despite living in the penthouse next to yours, with his equally wealthy parents, Jackson opted to eat at your table more often than not.

Preferably so he wouldn’t have to listen to his parents fighting.

“Can we expect the same promise from you, Jackson?” your mother asked, as if she were speaking to her favorite puppy.

She always did love Jackson. He was like the son she never had. Although, in her defense, it wasn’t hard to love Jackson. He was the golden child that every mother’s wet dream was made of.

“Absolutely not,” he retorted politely, grinning from ear to ear. “Some of my closest friends are at that camp.”

Your mother chuckled, having expected as much.

Your stepfather finally lowered the corner of his paper and called your name sternly, as if oblivious - or uncaring - to the conversation taking place.

You glanced up.

“Eat your food. It’s a long drive and I’ll hear nothing of you getting faint on your first day.”

Jackson and your mother both looked to you expectantly.

You flashed him a soft smile and said, “Yes, sir.”

Stepfather number three, despite having more money than God, was surprisingly kind and considered you one of his own. There was a time you overheard him say you were the daughter he always wanted. His three sons had far surpassed mischief and landed in deviance, always on the hunt for his money.

The maid offered sweetly to make you some breakfast, whatever you would like, and you accepted. Jackson swiftly reached over and pinched your cheek in approval.

Most respectable parents would never be so lenient toward a friendship between a girl and a boy, but you knew your mother was hoping you and Jackson would get together. It would be a fine match in high society, given the status of your fathers.

Matter of fact, when she walked in on the two of you eating chocolate and watching movies while cuddled in bed, she was thoroughly disappointed you weren’t having sex.

When you finished eating, you dragged your feet upstairs to your room to get dressed for the trip. Jackson took a few extra minutes to clear his plate and then joined you.

Standing in front of three full panel mirrors in your bra and underwear, you alternated holding skirts up to yourself in the reflection. Jackson folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe.

“What does one wear for total humiliation?” you asked dryly, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“Plaid probably,” he quipped, uncrossing his arms and slipping into your closet.

You turned, brow furrowed, and waited for him to come back.

When Jackson finally emerged, he tossed you a t-shirt and jeans. Casual at its finest.

You caught the clothes and surveyed them in surprise. “Really?”

“Put ‘em on,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s blow this town.”

You pulled the extra tight jeans on, fastening them with a huff, and pestered, “Do you have to be this excited?”

Jackson came close, taking your face between his hands and pushing your cheeks together. “The sooner we get there, the faster we can get drunk.”

You snickered, rolling your eyes.

The two of you came thundering down the stairs, reminiscent of times you and Jackson slid down the banisters as noisy kids. Your mother waited stiffly at the door, almost cracking a smile when you galloped into the kitchen and pressed a kiss in farewell to your stepfather’s cheek.

She may have been after his money like a cat on a mouse, but she inadvertently found a decent father for her only daughter.

Jackson said his hurried, loud goodbyes and slipped through the open door. You slowed down long enough to take your jacket from your mother’s waiting hand and endure one last scrutinizing gaze.

“Is he seeing someone?” she asked softly.

“Nope,” you chuckled, having expected some backhanded remark about your outfit.

Your mother spoke like she read a whimsical poem, “The two of you would make the most perfect couple this side of the Hudson.”

“Love you, too, Mom,” you teased, pecking a kiss on her cheek and trotting out the door.

The limousine rolled out onto the busy streets of New York City and you peered through the tinted windows. You watched as the looming skyscrapers turned to towering green trees.

As the drive went on, your nerves only grew.

With misplaced optimism, you turned to Jackson and said, “Maybe he won’t be there this year.”

Jackson didn’t even look up from his magazine and droned, “He’s been there every year since he was seven.”

You slumped in your seat, defeated. Clapping a hand on your forehead in self-chastisement, you groaned, “I should have been better, not worse.”

Jackson shifted, leaning back against you and resting his head on your chest. “I’ve never seen you so out of control,” he exclaimed, turning a page in the magazine. “And that says a lot.”

It said plenty. Jackson had warned you about Jaebeom many, many times. Though you held his opinion in high regard, you didn’t listen. You were blinded by love and had no one to blame but yourself.

You grabbed a handful of his brown hair and tugged playfully, earning a tiny whine. “Yeah, well,” you murmured, acerbic. “He stole all of the goodness out of me.”

Jackson scoffed and his tone became stern, “Don’t give him so much credit. And don’t put all of your goodness on your virginity, for fuck’s sake.”

You sighed loudly, thinking about Jaebeom and how he made your pulse race, how he sent fire racing down your spine. The thought of him made you want to cry and you quickly clenched your jaws.

“It’s true though, isn’t it? I’m a bad girl now,” you countered, draping your arm over his chest. “I surrendered my virtuous flower to a boy who added another notch to his bed post.”

Of your memories with Jaebeom, and they were countless, among the stolen kisses and soft touches and sweet words, one stood out above all the rest. The last time you saw him - when he told you it was all a lie, just a game.

That he never loved you.

Jackson sat up, setting down his magazine and facing you. He could feel where your thoughts had wandered, screaming at him to ease the pain despite no words leaving your mouth. Meeting your eyes, Jackson wanted you to hear him even though the two of you had been over it many times already.

“You loved him,” he said, sympathetic but firm. “And he made it a good experience for you. Take that away from it.”

“You’re right,” you replied with a nod, holding back the tears and the quivering of your lip. “I need to let it go.”

Jackson cocked his head and pressed, “But?”

He knew you too well.

“But I can’t,” you whispered, lowering your head to hide your face in shame. “I can’t get over being in love with someone who never - not even for a moment - loved me back.”

Jackson balled his hands into fists. It had taken every inch of his goddamn restraint not to hop a plane, show up at Lim Jaebeom’s house, and beat the living shit out of him. You and his mother were the only people he was willing to go to jail for.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you wiped away the one tear that had escaped. You hated Jackson having to see you like this, staring at you like his precious wounded puppy. With a shrug, you gave a scoff and said, “I wonder who he will have his eyes on this year.”

Jackson frowned and settled back into his seat, shaking his head where the likes of Jaebeom was concerned. He knew three months of unadulterated fun for him were going to be total misery for you. For days he racked his brain over what he could do to help you get over Jaebeom.

Then, the metaphorical light bulb clicked over his head. Who would Jaebeom be pursuing this year? With you crossed off his list, there were simply no more challenges to be had.

Jackson smirked. The solution to this problem was clear as day. He would have to make Jaebeom chase you again.

“I have an idea,” Jackson muttered under his breath, eyes gleaming with devilish intent.

“Oh, boy,” you laughed, recognizing his telltale mischief.

Jackson faced you, propping himself on hands positioned at either side of your legs. “You help me bag Yeona and I will help you make Jaebeom jealous,” he said, letting his tongue linger at the corner of his mouth.

Your expression registered nothing but surprise. Yeona was the bane of Jackson’s romantic skills and the eye of his conquests for years. She was the only girl at camp not the least bit impressed with him and that drove him crazy.

At that thought you realized the similar dynamic. “Do you think that would work?” you asked curiously, piqued.

Relieved to see your approval, Jackson nodded. “He’s like me. He wants what he can’t have.”

To some degree, Jackson added in his head. He and Jaebeom had totally different motivations for stealing hearts.

You questioned in disbelief, “So… what? We just walk around making out all the time?”

Jackson snorted. “Within moderation, obviously. Don’t want to completely turn off either of our targets.”

One of the main reasons you never hooked up with Jackson (on more than one occasion you had been tempted) was to spite your insufferable mother after what she had put you through. That being said, you had kissed him more than once. Usually when dared to do so at parties or during sleepovers when you bared your deepest, darkest secrets to each other. It was always innocent, but this felt forbidden and impure.

You loved the idea.

“Hm, okay,” you said, noncommittal. “At this point, I’ll do anything to make him as miserable as I am.”

Jackson grinned and chuckled. “Take my word for it. There is nothing more miserable than blue balls.”

You pursed your lips, mulling, “He’s already had me. He won’t want me again.”

“I’ll convince him you’re worth having,” Jackson replied, his voice a deep rumble in his throat. “And you’ll do the same to Yeona about me.”

“What makes you think Yeona will be that hard to get? You’ve never really pursued her before.”

Jackson slid to the edge of the seat and reached for a bottle of alcohol currently sitting on ice. “She doesn’t believe in sex before marriage.”

That explained why he threw in the towel so quickly. You cocked a brow and chuckled, “Really?”

Jackson nodded, popping open the bottle of champagne and grabbing two glasses. “Yeah, even wears a promise ring.”

“Wow, that’s commitment,” you smarted, taking the flute of bubbly he extended to you.

Jackson glanced up briefly before pouring his own glass, hair falling in his eyes, and said, “Don’t wallow in self-pity again.”

You rolled your eyes and quickly defended, “No, I’m not. It’s just… I wasn’t saving myself for marriage, but I was saving myself for someone that loved me.”

Jackson exhaled loudly.

You hated hearing his disappointment and ranted irritably, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. It wasn’t even good. There was no leg shaking orgasm. It was messy and uncomfortable and whatever.”

“That’s because it was your first time,” Jackson said, putting the glass to his lips.

You took a sip. “Yeah, I guess.”

Jackson leaned on his side, sizing you up. His eyes drifted up and down your body. He hated seeing you bent out of shape over a boy, least of all hot garbage like Lim Jaebeom.

After a pause, the following words dripped like honey off his tongue, “We could fool around, you know.”

You almost choked on your champagne, wondering if you heard him clearly or if it was a figment of your imagination. You exclaimed, “What?”

“You and me,” Jackson continued, sidling closer. “I could show you what all the fuss is about.”

He sounded so smug when he said that, his voice even deeper. You swallowed at the offer and asked, “Would that be awkward?”

“No, it would just be sex. No strings attached.”

The knife in your heart twisted and you peered at him. “Could you make me forget about Jaebeom?”

Jackson leaned in. “Baby, I could make you see stars.”

Heat flushed behind your cheeks and you glanced away, faltering under the sudden tension in the limousine. “I’ll think about it,” you finally told him.

Satisfied, Jackson grinned and made himself comfortable, opening the magazine again and proceeding to read.

You surveyed Jackson out of the corner of your eye, lingering on his thick thighs. Years of fencing had built him strong, sturdy. When Jackson said he could make you see stars, you were inclined to believe him.

Especially since the vast majority of his exes tended to brag about how good he was in bed.

You thought about Jaebeom. You wanted him to go crazy at the sight of you in Jackson’s arms. You craved revenge, to serve him a taste of his own medicine, no matter what it cost.

The car eventually came to a stop on the gravel road. Attendants were ready to unload your luggage and transport it to your respective rooms. It may have been a camp for unruly brats, but said brats came from very affluent parents.

An older woman stood by the gate, black hair glistening a little too fiercely in the sunlight. Clearly she had sprayed dye on her graying roots.

“Ah, you two again,” she grimaced at yours and Jackson’s approach.

You took the keys from her outstretched hand and continued on your way without a word. Jackson on the other hand, leaned in with puckered lips and jeered, “Always a pleasure, Miss Hamm.”

“Hmph.”

You continued on the path with your best friend in tow. Your cabin was in sight, on the bluff beside the lake. Jackson’s was adjacent, slightly lower down. Your parents made sure you had the same spots each year, always furnished and equipped with everything you needed.

Some of the campers lived in bunkhouses with other roommates, but not you. Your first year, you swore to your mother if you were forced to bunk with other girls you would not stop until you got yourself sent home. It was an easy compromise to make. She loved traveling during the summer with stepfather number two.

You stopped and pivoted to Jackson, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up.”

“Alright,” he replied. “Meet at the mess hall?”

Naturally his mind was on food, you mused. “Of course.”

Jackson looped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a hug, whispering in your ear, “Don’t hide in there from him. Remember - I got your back.”

You nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek in gratitude.

The two of you broke away at the fork in the road, taking opposite paths to your cabins.

Dropping your purse, you plopped down on the brand new mattress, gripping the sides and looking down at your shoes. The air conditioning had been turned on, the cabin had already cooled off. You would never know how hot it was outside whilst inside your pink-themed prison.

The camp was meant to reform. It didn’t matter that you were a legal adult, you still belonged to a rich and influential family in high society. It was like the parents knew their spoiled, entitled children would indulge in bad behaviors, therefore it was best they did so in controlled environments.

You already imagined the endless nights of booze and debauchery awaiting you for the next three months. Maybe it was time you embraced the darker side of life like you used to, rather than wasting away and pining over a boy.

Rising from the bed, you approached the nearby bathroom and braced your hands on the sink. Studying your reflection, you wanted to curse. You looked like a shadow of your former self.

The girl you knew was confident, vivacious, and a rebel to the core. You were quieter now, tempered. An experience like last summer had opened your eyes to how cruel the world really was.

Still, you were ready to buck up. Jackson had a plan and you were willing to execute if it meant you would have some kind of absolution. Splashing water on your face, you dabbed your cheeks with a cloth and headed outside.

The largest of the buildings, the mess hall was loud and chaotic. The majority of kids went straight to the line for food, hungry after a long trip. The place was alive with a hundred different conversations, varying levels of chatter. Friends reunited dramatically in the aisleways.

You searched for a friendly face, desperate to avoid Jaebeom for now, and spotted a head of platinum hair. Approaching the scrawny boy, you grabbed a handful of blond locks and teased, “Bam, I thought you were gonna let your poor scalp breathe?”

Bambam didn’t flinch at the brief tug on his head and turned to meet your grin with one of his own. “Hey, beautiful,” he exclaimed, leaping up to envelope you in a warm hug. “Thought you were gonna try and avoid this place for once?”

“Yeah, well,” you said coolly with a shrug. “Bad behaviors are hard to break.”

“You’re telling me,” huffed Bambam as he lowered back onto the row with you at his side. “I landed myself back here in the first week of the semester.”

You laughed, smoothing down where you had disrupted his hair. “I expect nothing less.” Looking across the table, you met eyes with Bambam’s best friend and partner in crime, Yugyeom, and greeted, “Hey, Yugy.”

“Hi. I’m glad you came back! Well, not glad, obviously, but…,” Yugyeom rambled, cheeks reddening. “Happy you’re here. You know, it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Thanks,” you replied shyly.

“Any sign of Jackson?” Bambam asked, glancing around. “Don’t you always come together?”

Yugyeom kindly pushed his plate of fruit in your direction and you thanked him. “Yeah, we did. He was supposed to meet me here,” you answered, popping a grape in your mouth.

“Probably sneaking a smoke with Mark,” Bambam grumbled quietly under his breath.

Yugyeom cleared his throat loudly, looking at something behind you.

Just as you turned around, brows stitched, someone sat at your side.

It was Jaebeom.

He didn’t face the table like the rest of you, he straddled the seat, squarely in your direction.

“Hi, baby girl. Imagine my surprise when I heard about all the trouble you got yourself into,” Jaebeom taunted, clicking his tongue in feigned reproach. His fingertips came to your temple, slipping through your loose hair and tucking it behind your ear.

You couldn’t breathe and you certainly couldn’t think. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He smelled so good. The mere touch of his fingers made you freeze in place. You wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“I…,” you trailed, hesitating, lost for words. What the hell were you supposed to say?

I love you, but I hate you.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Jaebeom cooed, stroking a finger over your cheek. “Cat got your tongue?”

You could feel the tears gathering in your eyes. Even Yugyeom seethed at how Jaebeom was toying with you.

This was the humiliation you had been anticipating and dreading. You knew Jaebeom wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to remind you that he stole your heart and your virginity and left you with nothing.

The whole camp knew that you had given it up. That you had been such a fool to believe for a second that Jaebeom loved you.

Blind. Blind. Blind, you chanted in your head.

Jackson appeared out of thin air, grabbing Jaebeom’s wrist and pulling him from you. “Can I help you find something?” your best friend snapped.

Jaebeom rose, agitated at being challenged. “The fuck are you doing, Wang?”

Jackson drifted closer to Jaebeom, aggressive. “Keep your hands off my girl.”

Jaebeom’s eyes widened. “Your girl?”

“You heard me,” Jackson hissed, turning to you.

You remembered the game. Jackson’s eyes were expectant.

Finding your voice, you took a breath. “I’m so sorry to break the news to you, Jaebeom,” you began softly, rising from your seat and backing into Jackson, who didn’t miss a beat in wrapping his arms possessively around you. “I’ve moved onto bigger and better things. And I mean much, much bigger.”

Bambam beat his fist on the table, cackling wildly.

Jaebeom scowled, but there was skepticism bold in his eyes. Jackson promptly wiggled his brows and stroked his hands on your waist, intentionally making your shirt ride up.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” you sang, interlacing your fingers with Jackson’s underneath the hem of your shirt. “We’re gonna go make out in the hallway. Seeing Daddy get territorial really does it for me.”

Jackson wagged his tongue at Jaebeom, gladly laughing at his expense, as you squeezed his hand and proceeded to drag your best friend behind you into the hallway.

Jaebeom watched you go, eyes narrowed. Something didn’t sit right with him. He had known you for years, Jackson too. He couldn’t imagine driving you into Jackson’s arms. Not with how fierce and loyal your friendship was.

He didn’t believe it for a second.

Once in the clear, you backed against the wall and giggled. “Oh my god, did you see his face?” you exclaimed, covering your mouth as you chuckled.

Jackson tickled your sides and joked, “Look at your little sick and twisted self. I’m so proud.”

The door next to you opened and like clockwork, Jaebeom stepped out.

The grin vanished from your face in an instant and you quickly grabbed Jackson by the collar, yanking him forward. Jackson collided into you none too gently and grunted, silenced only by your lips suddenly on his.

Jaebeom could hardly believe his eyes. There you were, swept up in Jackson’s arms with your tongue down his throat. He was green with fucking envy. It had taken him a whole summer to open you up and now you were throwing yourself at Jackson of all people.

Jackson slipped his hands beneath your shirt and roamed his hands up your sides, giving Jaebeom a glimpse of your soft skin. You overlapped your arms around his head, making little noises in the heat of his kisses.

Jaebeom felt a twitch in his pants at the sounds you made. That was supposed to be him. You were supposed to be in his arms, kissing him like he was all you had thought about every day since he ripped your heart out and crushed it in his hand for all to see.

“Pfft,” Jaebeom snorted, hiding his jealousy. “Glad I could break her in for you, Jacks.”

Neither of you heard him, which was lucky for Jaebeom because Jackson would not have hesitated to beat him to a bloody pulp.

Jaebeom cleared out. He couldn’t stand to watch anymore. Not when he had spent every day wondering if you would forgive him. Jaebeom shook his head as he continued down the hall, reminded what a stupid fucking mistake he had made.

Kissing Jackson made you forget what you were doing, where you were, and basically any and all information you were meant to be processing at the moment. Finally a sense of clarity hit you, though you had no earthly clue where it had come from.

Breaking away, you panted, “Okay, if we’re gonna do this, we have to lay down some ground rules.”

Jackson kneaded your waist and nipped at your lips, ever flirtatious. His voice came out a rasp when he said, “Give ‘em to me.”

“No sleeping around,” you told him sternly. “I’ve never had a sexually transmitted disease and I’m not starting now.”

Jackson bobbed his head, eager to kiss you again. “Deal.”

“When you get Yeona or I get Jaebeom, what’s between us is done.”

“Agreed.”

You softened, pulling him close for a brief, innocent peck on the lips. It wasn’t the first time you had kissed Jackson and it wouldn’t be the last.

But you realized when you were kissing Jackson, you forgot about Jaebeom and your feelings.

And that was dangerous.

“You’re my best friend,” you whispered delicately, tracing hair from his brow lightly with your fingers. “If either of us starts getting feelings, we shut this down.”

Jackson studied you a moment. He knew he loved you. He had loved you a long time. But it was an innocent love, not a complicated one. You were the only person he trusted with his heart. The only person he knew would never hurt him.

He wouldn’t catch feelings for you, would he? It wasn’t in his nature. He didn’t allow himself to get attached romantically. He hated the idea of commitment or monogamy, after seeing what his parents’ marriage had devolved into.

“Got it,” Jackson finally said, offering a gentle smile.

You swallowed, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him back. Jaebeom was gone. There was no one to convince anymore.

Jackson let his hands slip from your body. “We should go back.”

You nodded. “Yeah, just give me a second.”

Jackson noted the heat on your face, the glistening of your lips and the twinkles in your eyes. Forget making you see stars, Jackson knew in that moment he could absolutely ruin you.

He gathered you back in his arms, pulling you flush against him, and as you peered up at him confusedly, Jackson growled, “Let’s go to my cabin.”

A long, heavy silence wrapped around you and him. The weight of what you were doing landed squarely on your shoulders. And despite that, you found yourself not giving a damn.

Lips tugging in a smile, you purred, “Show me what I’ve been missing.”

But even as Jackson led you by the hand out of the mess hall, you glanced over your shoulder, looking for Jaebeom.

Wanting him to see. Wanting it to hurt him. Wanting to make him crazy.

But mostly, just wanting him to love you.

next chapter →

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