#im so sorry i see other people and have no idea how to communicate im like a feral beast | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jarofstyles · 8 months ago

Text

The Favor 9

Hey... Sorry it took me a minute. I've decided this is definitely not the only club scene for them because there's a lot I want t explore with them. Part of me wants to apologize for adding so much in but I hope you guys love them as much as I do!!! They are one of my all time favorite pairings to write.

Also don't worry Im working on getting rid of Danny lol

Series Masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 10 and 180+ exclusive writings.

WC- 10.2k

Warnings- dom/sub dynamic, BD/SM, Exhibitionism, voyeurism, degrading, choking, sir/daddy kink, pet/puppy nicknames, name calling, slight Mean Dom H mixed with soft Dom tbh, tiny bit of humiliation kink, aftercare is in the next part I promiseeeee

Y/N was buzzing in her own skin.

So much was happening in her brain that it felt borderline overwhelming. She stood in Harry’s bathroom looking into the mirror with her hands on her face, just to confirm that she was, in fact, a real person.

The night prior had been intense. A lot, but in a good way. Something had shifted between them, as she suspected, but neither of them were truly ready to talk about it. Harry was instead, a lot more affectionate which… to be honest, she hadn’t expected. It was a glorious change, feeling his hands or eyes on her whenever she was in a room with him. He’d had her sit on his lap while he proof read something on his laptop, his hand stroking over her stomach and underneath one of his shirts that he’d put on her after their bath the night before. There was no urgency to talk, Y/N leaning her head on his shoulder and relaxing into the warm, fresh smell of the man she was so connected to whilst scrolling on her phone. He’d made them breakfast and ordered them lunch, but she had noticed a distinct lack of kissing.

It made her wonder if she pushed a bit last night, asking for one. Somehow she doubted it considering he had been the one giving her kisses the last few weekends together, but there was a weird seed of dread in her stomach that reminded her that at some point the weekend would be over and the warm place she had in the pool of Harry’s warmth would dry up and she’d need to come back up for air. To go through the week without seeing him, except maybe for a lunch, when she had grown so needy for his mere presence. He was attentive even when they weren’t physically around, more than the man she had called her boyfriend, but it still didn’t feel like enough. As weird and freaky as it sounded, she wanted to crawl under his skin somehow. Get as close as possible.

Tonight they’d be going to the sex club. Something she was both excited and nervous about, the weird feeling in her chest making her wonder which one outweighed the other. Harry had communicated very clearly that this first visit was going to be rather tame- or, as tame as a sex club visit could be. They’d watch a scene he had pre chosen, a voyer couple in a room open to exhibitionists. Before that, they’d mingle and he would introduce her to some of his friends he had there.

One thing she wasn’t too sure about though, was getting too close to anyone he had played with before. Y/N, while not historically jealous, found her skin crawling with ants at the idea of having to be around someone else who knew how he tasted, how he looked when he came. Sure, he wasn’t officially hers, but it felt like it more than she cared to admit. That had added on to her anxiety but it wasn’t something she wanted to openly admit to him yet, so she kept it under wraps for the time being.

He’d done something nice for her and got her a dress. A cute little thing, lacy and white. A sweetheart neckline and strapless, she was hoping the strapless bra was going to do its job- but then again, she kind of hoped maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he had chosen the dress for ease of access. The idea of him slipping down the top and playing with her in front of other people had her wet the moment she thought about it.

Her panties, though, were noticeably missing in the ensemble. When she asked about them, his smirk had rose on his lips. “Who said you were getting any?”

So all in all, she was a complete and utter wreck of hormones and anxiety.

Freshly showered, she had fixed her hair and sat staring at herself with her makeup half done. Another of the dominant’s shirts hung off her shoulders. He had a vanity that was cleared of anything but her stuff, which was nice, but another flare of jealousy had worked its way through her. Who else had used this vanity for this exact thing? Who else had been getting ready for him to take them to the club to play with them in the way that was so uniquely Harry?

It was no right of hers to be jealous or possessive when she was still in a relationship, though it was one she was having her doubts about. Her phone remained empty of any texts from him. The longer he put it off, the less she cared about what he had to say. Anger wasn’t really there considering Harry had been giving her plenty of attention, but still. Her brain was craving the quiet only the Dominant had managed to give her.

“Alright?” His sudden appearance made her squeal, jumping in her chair. Clutching her ever beating heart, she looked at him wide eyed in the reflection. Where the fuck had he come from and how long had he been there?

“Fucks sake, H.” She wheezed. “You need some sort of bell or something. How long have you been standing there?” Where she expected a laugh, she got none. His brows furrowed and his lips pursed, he turned the chair towards him and lifted a hand to tilt her head up. “For a minute or two. I was waiting for you to notice but…” Eyes scrutinized her face. “You’re nervous.”

There wasn’t much she could hide from him. To be fair, she hadn’t planned on it, but it was still annoying, borderline unsettling on how he could read her like an open book. “A little. It’s not a big deal though.”

“We don’t have to go yet, if you aren’t ready. We don’t have to go at all.” His voice was soft as he kept his face placid, clearly trying not to sway her either way. It was yet another confirmation to her that he actually did give a fuck about her well being.

The idea of not going at all, though, made her shake her head rapidly. Wouldn’t that mean they would cut off their arrangement? As selfish as it was, she couldn’t give him up yet. She couldn’t give up the orgasms and the kisses and the praise, just as much as she didn’t want to give up the daily texts and jokes and pictures of Buttons when she was back at her own place. “No! It’s just, it’s a little intimidating. That’s all.” She sighed, leaning into his hand. That seemed to soften him a bit, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip as he tried to gage her.

“What about it has got you intimidated?”

It felt oddly good having him standing over her, petting at her. His gaze soft, looking down at her as he tried to make her feel comfortable but undeniably in control of the situation. Of her.

“You know people there, mostly. But the whole thing. I know we’ve gone over what we’re doing but it feels bigger the closer we get there. Y’know?” She puckered her lips over the pad of his thumb, watching as his smile tipped the corner of his lips. These tiny acts of intimacy were going to be the ones that ruined her. “I’m very excited. It’s what I’ve wanted, you know? And I kinda think that makes me put more pressure on the expectation.”

Harry hummed in his throat, nodding along to her observations. It made logical sense and she knew it, but seeing him agree made her feel a little better. Maybe she wasn’t overreacting after all.

“It is intimidating. It's taboo, in a way. Something that’s going to shock your system. You don’t go many places with people being so open sexually around you. It isn’t so blatant until the shows start, but even then. It’s the sort of stuff you're used to fantasizing about, and to see it right in front of you can be a lot to take in. Seeing people on leashes, or full body spandex, masks, all of that. It’s new to you, so I expect it to be intimidating to you. But may I offer you a few pieces of advice?”

Y/N would lick his shoes if he asked in the right tone of voice, so she nodded. She wondered if she would get away with it, and his eyes did narrow, but he chose to let it go.

“The only person I’m going to be focusing on when we go is you. I have some friends, yes, and I’d like you to meet them and their submissives, but I’m not expecting you to make best friends at the first meeting.” He started, ever so slowly pushing his thumb into her mouth. Testing the waters. Like second nature, she began to suck lightly on the tip of it as he continued talking, the tip of her tongue brushing the pad of his finger. “But the real advice I have is to let go. Let me control the night. I’ve got you, I’ve got everything you need to do up in my head. All you’ve got to do is follow directions. If I tell you to say hello? Say hello. If I don’t, you don’t. If I tell you to sit on my lap, you sit there. Tell you to get on your knees, you do it. If I tell you to suck my cock, you do it. Because everyone else there is doing the same thing, if not, they’re there to watch it happen. There’s nothing you need to worry that pretty little head about.” His eyes darkened slightly as she took his thumb a little further into her mouth, blinking up at him. “Okay? Daddy’s got you.”

Somehow it worked. Some of that anxiety melted away, realizing he was fully serious. All she needed to do was listen to him. That was the backbone of all of this.

“You’re in control. You’ve got the power to color out, you’ve got the boundaries and I’m just there to make sure you’re tended to properly. Remember what I said, hm? Me being in control is only because you allow me to be.”

That had been something she learned more and more as the time passed by with him. As incredible as it felt to have him be in charge, she had the ultimate say so. She could color out at any moment. There was no reason not to trust him because he had never given her a reason not to.

“Your safe word isn’t just for sex, either. Anything you want to stop tonight, you tell me. I know you’ll be good and remember that, but I just need to remind you before you hand yourself over to me. I will never be disappointed or angry because you need a break, or you don’t want to do something. I care about you a lot more than I care about nutting off or showing off to people.”

In truth, Harry would never forgive himself if something happened and she ever felt unsafe with him. It was a team effort, yeah, but he did think he was good enough at reading her that he would be extremely upset if he didn’t predict something like that. Y/N did run a bit anxious sometimes. He’d been able to get her to a point where she completely let go for him, and he wanted to repeat that pattern over and over until the weight that she felt on her shoulders lessened. As strong as the woman was, he wanted to help take some of it on his own back.

His thumb pulled from her mouth with a soft ‘pop’, the dominant ignoring the whimper and smearing the sweetness of her saliva over her chin. It was the world’s highest honor to see her eyes round out for him, to watch her track his every moment like the eager pet she had proven to be for him. Knowing she wanted to please him made him feel more powerful, more fulfilled, than he had been in a very long time. Showing her off was something he had been more than looking forward to doing, but there wouldn’t have been any use in doing it if she wouldn’t feel equal enjoyment. “Are we okay, Sweets?”

“Yeah.” She sighed, the sigh exhaling against his damp finger. “I gotta finish getting ready though. You have my outfit picked out on the bed?”

“I do.” He nodded, lightly fingering a loose tendril of hair that brushed her cheek. “And you’ll be wearing that black peacoat over it. Should keep you nice and warm.” Tilting her chin up, he placed one of the first kisses of the evening on her pouty lips before smoothing his thumb back over her mouth. “You’ve got time, darling. Don’t worry.”

—--

Y/N felt marginally better as she held on to his hand, clinging for dear life on his wrist with the other as they waited at the front entrance.

There had been quite a lot she expected from a club dedicated to kink. Karma was as sensual and mysterious as ever, but the front of a closed hair salon letting them in had been a shock to the system. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought Harry had lost his mind until he opened the back room door and exposed an entirely different aesthetic. A black and gold elevator, black marble floor and red curtained walls. That had to be a bitch to dust.

With a key card, he placed it on the gold plated button pad and it opened for them to step inside. Now that she was in the elevator she could hear some music, some people, but nothing she could have ever expected from the street view. Privacy was very important to them, as she could tell. “They’re going to put our phones and my keys into the locker and we’ll get them on the way out. It’s for everyone’s privacy, but there are staff in there to ensure you have an out if you need it.” Unwinding their fingers, his grip changed to her jaw to tilt it up to look at him. The casual dominance had her knees weak. How did he manage to do it so seamlessly? “We’re gonna check out coats, and then we’ll go in. You are safe with me, Pet.” His tone was gentle, reminding her again how he had been the best thing to wander into her life. There was no saying shit just to say it. The man wanted to assure her, drill it into her brain, that he was completely here for her and everything they did was because she wanted to do it.

As intimidating as it was, she swallowed the lump around her throat and gave him a nod before allowing him to take her coat off. Standing in front of a hostess and the man who worked the coat check in her little outfit had made her a little stiff at first, but the moment she heard the quiet curse under his breath, their opinions didn’t matter.

He had chosen a maroon babydoll for her to wear tonight. Satin cups clung over her breasts while it transferred to a tight knit mesh-like material that flowed over her body and hit her upper thighs. The panties had been a bit of a different choice, rather simple silk ones with lace trim. She’d expected lace, a g string, something else but they were really nice. It wasn’t overtly sexual, but it made her feel sexy as she had tugged them up her thighs and settled the waistband on her hips. The outfit had surprised her a little considering she had thought maybe he’d want her to wear something completely form fitting or restrictive, like spandex or leather, but instead he’d gone with something more flowy and light. Maybe he was starting them soft for the first time, but it was the sexiest she had felt so far in her life.

“You look incredible.” He mumbled, placing the coat numbers on the counter with their phones and his keys. “Fuck me.” Lithe fingers traced over the straps, the feather light touch stopping at the necklace he’d chosen for her tonight. A simple gold chain with a heart. At first she had thought he would give her one of those collars, but she wasn’t sure how that worked.

“I was going to give you the one with my first initial, but I was saving that.” The admission made her eyebrows raise. Why hadn’t he done that? “I wanted to ease you into it, and for some reason you’ve been turnin’ me into a possessive son of a bitch. Wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep composure if it was on there like that… But I don’t think that matters too much now, anyway.”

Harry had always known he was attracted to Y/N in otherworldly, almost inappropriately intense ways. While he could be a jealous man, he hadn’t felt it to this degree. Irritated that she didn’t have his name on her neck or a traditional sign of ownership. He was a weak man when it came to her, but he didn’t mind when he could see her preen slightly over his words. The one thing that was soothing his inner caveman was the fact that she had marks from him on her body. Love bites blooming from the swell of her left breast and one he’d sucked on the right side of her neck, a few little bruises from his fingers digging into her hips… They were little badges of honor.

He’d caught her this morning, admiring them in the foggy mirror. He’d come to bring a fresh towel before she got into the shower and watched quietly as she ran her fingers over the marked skin, the tiniest little smile on her lips that made his cock twitch. If they hadn’t had plans to come here tonight he would have bent her over the counter and gave her more. That silent appreciation at the tiniest hints of ownership meant more than she would ever know.

“I can wear it next time.” She peeped, meeting his eyes. “I like this one too, but… I like the other idea.”

The silence was loud for a moment as he observed her, the admission making her look a little flustered. Every day it seemed they were slipping into something far more serious than they’d set out to, but the unspoken words lingered under their tongues. It wasn’t the right time to discuss. “Noted.” Thumbing over her chin, he nodded at her before tucking the tickets from the coat check into the pocket of his pants. “Come on then, Pet. Let’s have a look.”

—-

Y/N’s eyes were wide as they took in the vast room around her.

Holy fuck. Harry hadn’t been kidding about it shocking her system.

His hand held the back of her neck as she was guided towards the bar, where she was warned didn’t sell any actual alcohol for safety reasons. It matched and exceeded her expectations upon first glance.

The stage was set up with some sort of bench, but it was obvious they’d come before the show had begun. People milled about, laughing and talking as if nothing abnormal was happening- like the woman in her all spandex dress chatting to the bartender, drink in one hand and chain in the other. Connected to the other end of the chain was a man on his knees for her, leather mask covering everything but his eyes and mouth. Not far from her in a booth across the way, a man had a woman on his lap with his hand down her top, playing with her tits and keeping a conversation.

It wasn’t extreme, no, but it had her a bit spooked. Even more so when she looked to the side and saw a girl on her knees and her face buried under another woman’s dress. So he hadn’t been kidding- it really did happen anywhere.

Heat flushed over her chest as she averted her gaze, blinking rapidly as she tried to calm her heart. It wasn’t a bad thing, she didn’t think, because she could feel herself becoming excited. Just a walk through and she was warm in her tummy, feeling that anticipation climbing all the way up her throat. She had to wonder what Harry was going to surprise her with tonight.

“Alright?” He mumbled, turning to face her as they approached the bar. The promise of a sweet, sugary mocktail had been enticing but now her curiosity was wanting to take over. “It’s not too bad, is it?”

“No, Sir.” She shook her head, meeting his eyes. The hand on the back of her neck gave a subtle squeeze, pulling her a little closer. “It’s… I’m curious to see what else goes on, but I think it’s interesting.”

“A lot of things are happening in the rooms. The main stage show isn’t anything too extreme, but the rooms are different theaters on this level, and playrooms on the top level.” The split level was apparent to her now, reminding her a bit of a hotel lobby she’d stayed at once on holiday. Rooms surrounding the top with a walkway that looked down while the bottom was an open concept until it split into four hallways. The place was truly beautiful, albeit a bit intimidating. “What did you want to drink?”

Y/N looked over the menu with curious eyes, smiling lightly when she saw someone had made a plethora of fruity and sweet concoctions modeled after bubblegum, blue raspberry, cherry, all sorts of stuff. There were more tame things, pina colada and mint julep, but considering she was experimenting tonight she chose something she normally wouldn’t. “Can I have the cotton candy one, Sir?”

“You may, yes.” The subtle correction had her face flushing for a moment, but she could see he was teasing a little from the dimple threatening to break on his face. God, he was so gorgeous.

It was always apparent that Harry was handsome, but seeing him like this was a whole different experience. His shoulders were bigger, back straighter, a more controlled and poised version of him was at the helm. Was this his best self? Being a dominant, taking and guiding her? He’d said multiple times he liked taking care of people, liked being in charge, so it must feel really good to have her eyes on him at all times.

When she’d brought up that she’d read a lot about people in her books had dominants that preferred them to avert their eyes, but he’d scoffed at it. In opposition, he’d told her to keep her eyes on him at most times. Joked about it soothing a bit of his ego, but she wasn’t sure how much of it was really a joke at this point. Either way, there would be no complaints about that when the man looked as good as him. Sharp jaw and nose, dark lips, eyelashes that pissed her off because they were so pretty… The man had a way about him that reminded her of classical art.

When the bartender came over he was greeted with a smile, which he reciprocated with a small one of his own before ordering her the drink she wanted and himself some sort of iced tea thing. She had no clue, considering she was a little busy zoning out. His hand had started to subtly massage the back of her neck and her eyes had glazed over a bit, being pressed into his side making the scent of him increasingly soothing. Perhaps he was doing it for that exact reason, but that was why he was in charge. He knew what to do to calm her nerves.

As soon as the bartender walked away, he turned back towards her. “And how are you feeling?” Eyes dipping over her body, Y/N swallowed as she knew exactly what he was talking about- and why he looked so damn smug.

He’d helped her put a plug in before they left. The smallest one, but it had still worked her up a significant amount. There had been something weirdly erotic knowing that he would know why she was shifting around. Trying anal for the first time the night prior had been a mind meltingly good experience, making her even more eager to try new things. It had always been a fantasy of hers, but she hadn’t realized just how good it would feel. How full and connected she would be with it- but again, that was possibly just a Harry thing. He had made the simplest thing far more pleasurable.

“Good.” She nodded, watching his eyes linger on her breasts. He’d spent time after their sex last night kissing on them in appreciation, letting his lips hover over the marks before he lotioned over her body. Physical touch had to be his top love language, she had deduced. “I, um… It feels weird when I walk. But not bad, Sir.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re walking a bit differently, but you’ll grow used to it. Even more so, I think you’re going to learn to love it.” Adjusting the strap that seemed to be slipping down her shoulder continuously, he let his touch linger. “You’re going to be my good girl and let everyone see how perfect you are, aren’t you?” The tone of his voice dropped into a deeper one, her body reacting to it as she leaned into his touch. “I can’t decide if I want you perched on my lap all night, or if I want you on your knees in front of me.” Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “Decisions, decisions.”

“Whatever you’d like me to do, Sir.” She replied, though there was no true preference. Y/N was aiming to please tonight, subconsciously feeling the pressure to prove she could be a good submissive for him.

“Oh, I know, pet. You don’t have a choice in that.” He laughed under his breath. “Precious girl. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll tell you to sit and speak like my good Pup, alright? You just stick to me.”

Y/N a few months ago would probably try to fight his words and the condescending tone because that was what was expected of her. Y/N a few months ago would ignore her body when it reacted to those words. Y/N now, though, let her eyes widen and simply agreed, because deep down that’s what she’s been wanting to do.

When the drinks arrived, her eyes widened at how pretty it was. A soft pink with some sort of glittery shimmer in the drink, the movement of the liquid catching the light. It was by far the most beautiful drink she’d ever seen in her life, and she didn’t want to waste a drop. Holding it in her hand, she let Harry wrap up with the bartender before turning back to her with a new look on his face. “C’mon, it’s time t’say hi to some people. Best behavior.” With a slight pinch to her chin, he led her off.

Harry’s familiarity was evident in how easily he navigated the club. Winding through people with polite nods and greetings, he radiated the now familiar air of power. It was a little different here, though. While he always held the power in the bedroom, there was something that had snapped on his face when they walked in the room that had her ever curious about his past experiences here. Experiences she wouldn’t ask about for her own sake of delicate feelings, but things that he must have done, said, experienced in this secret cove of underground pleasures.

Yes, it was a bit whips and chains-y, but there was a classy layer to it that she liked here. The weird feeling of belonging settled in her gut as his hand squeezed the back of her neck, keeping her close as they approached a slightly elevated section. Her mind was going a million miles a minute, taking in every bare tit, every collar, every hand wrapped in hair and laugh in the room as he led her up towards their destination that she had almost missed it completely.

Thankfully she caught herself as Harry gently urged them to a stop right in front of a booth full of people. Semi circular, the tabletop was a bit far from the booth itself- but it was clear why as she looked down at the people.

There were two people on their knees of their perspective dominants. A brunette with her cheek resting on a blonde woman’s knee, fingers brushing through her dark hair and sparkling nails catching the light as she did so had particularly caught her eye. Instead of a tight outfit like the domme at the bar, she had on a powersuit. Her eyes didn’t look down towards her submissive though giving her physical attention, sharp hazel eyes looking over Y/N like a examination.

“Isn’t she delicious, Styles?” She purred, cat like grin painting her red lips. “Who is she? I know you’ve been gone for a bit… is she why?” The woman seemed pleased at the prospect of Harry having a new submissive, even if she looked at her like she could eat her for lunch. Her face felt hot as she looked up at Harry, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“She is.” The confirmation had the people at the table grinning which caught her a bit off guard. They didn’t know she was temporary and he seemed in no rush to tell them- and neither was she. Maybe they could play pretend here, like she was really his and he wanted to keep her for good. The first of many times they’d come together for as long as they felt so inclined. “This is Y/N. She’s been a wonderful little pet for me. My favorite.” A hand fondly ran over her hair, a little smile on his lips now as he was happy to show her off. “She’s a little new to this, but very eager to learn. So tread lightly, yeah?”

For some reason the information being told didn’t offend her. Maybe if someone else here seemed like it was funny to them, if they’d scoffed, did anything but look understanding she would feel that shame, but they didn’t. They simply nodded, letting Harry slip into the end of the booth. “On my lap for now, Pet.” He patted his thigh, holding his ringed hand out for her to take.

Y/N could feel eyes on her as she nodded, a quiet ‘yes sir’ leaving her lips as she was adjusted over his lap, legs over his thighs as he wound his arm around her waist to keep her body steady. “Say hello.” The words weren’t disguised as a request. It was clearly an order. Why did she find it so hot?

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you all.” She peeped, leaning into Harry’s touch as he gave her a squeeze of reassurance. It was pretty clear on who was a dominant at the table, versus the submissive. Two were on their knees, two sitting under their dominant’s arms, and one in a similar position to Y/N.

“Is it your first time here?” A man asked this time. His voice was softer spoken but there was an edge to him that screamed that he was in charge. It was a little similar to Harry in which he looked kind, but anyone with sense would know not to question their particular brand of authority.

“It is, yes. H-Sir was helping me adjust before I came here. He is the best teacher.” Throwing in a bit of praise for the dominant had the desired affect, lips brushing her cheek in a chaste kiss.

“What are your thoughts? It’s intimidating, isn’t it?” The woman from before asked curiously, though the hungry spark didn’t leave her eye until Harry spoke to her.

“I’m not sharing her, Cara.” He said lowly, his hold tightening on her. “She’s not on the menu. Look but don’t touch.” There was a slight edge to his voice though it wasn’t hostile quite yet. Secretly, Y/N let herself preen over the possessive nature being shone through. Knowing he had no desire to let anyone else have a taste of her was beyond comforting- which, she knew was entirely ironic considering the context in which they met.

“Oh, boo.” She sighed. “You’re very beautiful. Harry’s not fond of sharing his chips either so I should have known, but there’s no harm in trying.” The demeanor shifted slightly to something lighter. “My girl likes to have playmates sometimes, but we’re a little picky.”

Y/N could only imagine. If Harry expressed desire to add someone in for a scene she wouldn’t be too fond of letting just anyone in… but then again, she didn’t want to share in at all in the first place. It wasn’t a closed minded thing, more so the idea of someone else taking his attention away from her making her stomach ache.

“It’s good to be picky.” Harry nodded. “But my girl isn’t up for shared scenes. I don’t think I’ll ever want to share her.” Fingers brushed over her cheek, still cool from his drink. “I don’t think anyone can blame me for being selfish with a beauty like this.”

Heat flooded her body, a shy smile on her lips as she looked at him and watched his eyes darken. His pupils dilate. There was no question in her mind that there was truth to his words in this way she had just witnessed them, but it still felt unreal. “You wouldn’t want to share me either, would you?” The words had been softened just for her consumption, the moment being looked over by the others who began talking amongst themselves. For them, though, they were in their own little bubble.

“No, sir.” The whisper matched his own volume, but the answer made him pleased. She could tell by the look on his face, lightening her own mood just by that alone. Y/N never knew how much she would truly enjoy this sort of thing, never understood how much Harry would change her life, but she was here now and it felt far more intense than one could imagine.

“Then we’re settled, yeah? They can watch us, but m’not gonna let them touch you. Nor me.” The addition made her giggle, though it was cut off when he caught her lips in a soft kiss. Gentle pressings over her mouth, she counted three before he pulled back and rubbed over her chin. A wistful look followed, his eyes full of contemplation as he looked her over. Back and forth, his thumb swiped the remnants of the kiss before he let himself out of the mindset, leaning back into the booth. “Since you’ve had your greetings, I want you on your knees for me.” Reaching behind him he got a little cushion, dropping it on the floor. Spreading his legs out, he motioned for her to get between them. At least he was thoughtful with her poor knees.

Y/N was weirdly excited for it. Slowly sinking down and settling with her heels touching her bum, she looked up at him expectantly as he watched her get settled in her new position. It felt… right, being here. Like this. Looking up at him as he spread his legs and looked down at her with a practiced patience on his face. “Sit quietly like a good girl. We’re going to go watch that show in a room in 20 minutes. If you can behave here, I’ll make sure you cum tonight.”

Y/N knew what he meant. Not to provoke him and get him hard. As much as she wanted to do that, wanted to mouth at his cock and be a brat so he’d force it in her mouth,’or her over his lap to redden her ass, she wasn’t quite that brave yet. Tonight was to prove she could be a good girl for him, the best she could be. Maybe if she was good enough, he’d tell her that he was keeping her.

Listening to his order, she rested her cheek on his thigh and closed her eyes as she found herself in the situation the other woman had been when they’d arrived at the table. His fingers sprawled through her hair as he talked quietly amongst friends, twirling tendrils between his digits as he got to the ends of it. Every so often the submissive could feel his eyes look down at her, which had her opening her eyes and smiling up at him. The pleased expression he had each and every time had her wondering if he knew what went through her mind.

If he told her to break up with Danny? She probably would. If he confessed that he had feelings for her, that he wanted her as his real partner, submissive or not, she would release herself from the other relationship she was having major doubts about anyways and go to him. Belong to him seriously.

Even being on her goddamn knees in front of him at a kink club, she felt more appreciated than she ever had. Even when he called her a dirty bitch, a nasty whore, a cockslut, she felt more worshiped and heard and ultimately cared for than she ever had. Harry listened to her. There was never a singular time since they’d started this arrangement that he hadn’t thought about her wants or safety in great detail. He hand fed her fruit he sliced by hand after scenes, brought up juice to her mouth and whispered to her to have sips after he was finished ruining her body. He broke her apart, yeah, but he built her back up again. Even better than he had first found her, if she was being honest.

Never in her life has she felt as heard, scene, and adored as she did when Harry gave her aftercare. When he texted her through the week to make sure she had a good day. When he asked her her favorite color the first day they met and made sure she had light pink straws in her drinks each and every time. Harry paid attention to her. Not just in scenes, where he seemed to pick apart her every reaction and know just how much she could handle, but last night too. He could feel her upset, did what he could to fix it. Proved yet again that he was the better option of the two.

What was stopping her?

Fear. Not of Harry, not of Danny, but fear of losing this feeling. She’d end up alone again, wistful for this exact scenario where she knew she couldn’t get it again. No one else would be able to make her feel the way Harry felt in her body and her mind and that was fucking terrifying. Admitting that only to potentially be rejected was worse than staying in a bad relationship. Maybe she was a coward- she knew she was- but she needed his promise. His words. Too many times in her life she had been let down, let her heart hurt and chip and bruise. A rejection from him would shatter her heart and all the work she had put into mending it and the wall she had tried to build up to make her softness toughen up a bit would be inconceivably damaged.

Times like tonight, meeting his eye and watching him tuck her hair behind her ear as she rubbed her face against his knee, she swore she could see the golden flecks of longing in his eyes too. When they were in bed after their scenes and his arms wrapped around her so he could haul her back into his body, she could feel inklings of something more under her skin. Even when he’d greeted her last night with a kiss in his driveway, a kiss she knew would lead to nothing sexual and just a genuine token of affection, she had felt that something was more with him. And yet she was frozen with fear every time she went to ask him how he felt about her. Terrified that he would reject her and their entire dynamic would be screwed.

Little did she know, he had the same dilemma.

Watching her nuzzled into him, sitting so fucking perfect and pretty and meeting his eye with those gorgeous fucking smiles, she looked so content with him. Like she was made to be in this exact scenario. He’d never felt more proud of having someone on his arm, and yet she wasn’t actually his. He just wasn’t sure how much longer he could last without spilling those feelings towards her.

His holdback was the fact that she was the one in a relationship. She’d tried to mend things with Danny, but part of his confusion was knowing if she did it because she wanted to or if he had stupidly pushed that by trying to do the right thing about it when she expressed her resentment towards him. All he wanted to do was make the girl happy. It was only a few months of knowing her. He shouldn’t feel this much, so soon.

Realistically he knew that it was likely because they shared such intimate parts of themselves with one another. This dynamic, lived in even if only on the weekends, was intense and serious and Y/N leaned into every bit of it with an eagerness only matching her nicknames sake. A puppy. So fucking sweet, she’d roll over and show belly if he asked her to right now, but instead she was content with her face on his leg and his hand in her hair.

His mind wandered to what it could be like if she left the other man. If she walked away and went into his arms, let him show her how he could treat her so much better. What she didn’t know as well was he was still holding back a bit. Emotionally, more so.

His heart felt like it was in his throat when he grazed his fingers past her cheek, watching her lashes lift off her cheek so she could give him her eyes. “You’re bein’ perfect for me, Pet.” He murmured, watching as she preened. His words always seemed to have a significant effect on her but the girl was slipping into a more submissive state with him here. It was his job to take care of her, to show her the things she’d been missing out on and desperate to experience. “Are you ready to go and watch?”

“Yes, Sir.” She lifted her cheek from his knee and angled her head back, allowing him to tap his fingers over her chin and get a smile from her. Everything felt more loaded than they could talk about right now, but she was doing exactly what she needed to do. Falling into line so perfectly that Harry really didn’t have much he needed to correct. Pride filled his chest as he let himself smile back at her, nudging her to stand up.

“Lets go then. Stay with me.”

—-

Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected in this scenario, but she knew there was nothing that would be realistic in her mind that could have prepared her for this night. Walking into the room where the scene had already begun, Harry held the back of her neck and led her towards a loveseat in the back. The throple on stage weren't paying anyone much mind, the room half full as the sounds of a masculine groan filled the air. The stage was lit with two doms and a sub, all beautiful in their own right.

She stayed quiet as she waited for directions from Harry, eyes on him as he settled himself on the seat. He didn’t speak, instead grabbing her waist and turning her around to sit on his lap. Back against his chest, he spread his legs and hooked one each of her thighs over his own to sprawl her out. The position left her rather exposed too, but the thrill of it caught in her chest as she felt the thick of his cock against her ass and his arm wrapping around her waist.

“Look at them.” He mumbled, keeping his tone quiet. “Watch.” With his chin against her shoulder, he slid his fingers over her thighs. Up and down, the touch slightly distracted her from the performance going on up the stage. It was becoming very apparent that her devotion to the Dominant was deeper rooted than she’d thought. All this time she’d been anticipating this, but all she could do was think about him and his hands on her.

“How does it make you feel?” His lips grazed the shell of her ear as he looked towards the show himself. “They make a nice little show, don’t they? Is that something you’ve thought of?” In front of the girl on her knees stood the Domme and other Dominant. The Domme’s hands held a leather leash connected to the collar of the girl, wrapped around her fist as the other hand gripped the submissive’s ponytail to bob her head on the man’s cock. Y/N did her best to pay attention to the performance in front of her, the wet heat between her thighs getting more intense as his fingertips brushed up and down the exposed, vulnerable flesh of her inner thigh. Images of it being them flooded her brain, the barriers breaking as his lips nestled right underneath her ear, puckering just so.

In her vision, there would be no Domme. The scene would include just him and her, his hand wrapped around the leash tight as a show of ownership. Her collar would be prettier, something more suited to her personally. Maybe a pink leather or more of a chain with a heart charm like she’d seen on one of the other subs at the table, but it would be one he picked out special for her. His fist would have her locks wrapped around it like a secondary leash, using her mouth and showing off just how much she could take. Ideally, it would be after she trained a bit more to take him deeper. She loved the idea of people being able to watch her, to see her take him down her throat. Being able to see how well Harry handled her, how she listened to him, the dynamic between them. Maybe at some point she’d be able to be a bit more bratty and get punished for it- having him fuck her throat as a punishment, or use his hand against her ass.

“Hm? I asked you a question. Answer me.” He muttered, nipping the delicate skin of her neck. “Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head. Can almost hear it from here.”

Y/N swallowed, leaning further back into him as she tried to unfurl her tongue to tell him. “I-I like it. I’m thinking about us up there, Sir.” Keeping her voice quiet to be respectful to the throuple, she tried to be loud enough for him to hear. It was hard with how shaky her voice felt, his fingers trailing over the edge of her humid panties. It was hard to think straight with him touching her, his scent all over and his mouth on her neck and the sound of the praises from the Domme, the submissive choking slightly on the Dominant’s cock.

“You are?” He sounded intrigued. “Hm. I think you’d look pretty up there. What part of it is making your poor cunt wet like this?” Fingers tapped against the damp gusset of her panties, teasing with the light touch. It wasn’t enough to make her feel much relief, but the knowledge his hand was there was enough to make her swallow back a whimper. “I know you love my attention, but I’m starting to think you’re a bit more of an attention whore than I thought.”

The light degrading made her dizzy, the arm around her waist lifting to grip her throat lightly. “Keep talking, Puppy. Quietly.”

It was hard to keep talking but she tried her best. It was a little unnerving to realize just how much mental power he had over her, but she knew she was safe. Maybe she felt a little pathetic that such light touches had her in a tizzy, but this whole night had been edging, hadn’t it? This was the main event, watching people indulge in the taboo pleasures like it was a theater show while her own Dominant teased her over her panties. “I-I like that she has the collar n’stuff, and people are watching her choke on it.” She whispered out, breathing getting a little harder as he nudged her clit lightly with his thumb. Rhythmic back and forth, just a tiny hint of his touch but it was enough to make her want to buck into it. Harry was making her feel insane, but the entire thing was playing into it.

Watching them on the stage, knowing other people were around that could see her being spread open and touched like this, the way Harry was hard under her ass, it all had her tummy hot and head fuzzy. “And I like that they’re bein’ a little mean to her. Makin’ fun of her, Sir.” Her tongue felt a bit too big for her mouth as she admitted to those things. The condescending teasing of the Domme to the Submissive each time she failed to take the full length down her throat had sent a zing to her cunt, imagining Harry calling her those names and giving the mean encouragement to get her to do her very best in front of all the other people.

“Christ, you’re a whore.” Harry laughed incredulously into her neck. “You want to be degraded like that in front of other people? Because… I know for a fact you can’t take all of my dick into that throat. S’a bit too big and as cockhungry as you are, I think you’d be a little embarrassed about not being able to do what you should be able to.” The twinge of shame melted into arousal, his thumb nudging her clit a little harder. Was it a reward? She didn’t know, but she didn’t want it to stop.“As for the collar…” Fingers uncurled from her waist , moving up to collar her throat. “I think a better one would be better suited for such a slutty puppy. Jus’ didn’t realize you needed to be leashed too.”

His smallest finger went underneath the necklace that served as a collar for the night, tugging lightly at it. “You’d need to belong t’me properly for that. I don’t collar up just anyone, baby. Is that something you really want?” It was probably not the correct time to dip his toes into the question of a more serious arrangement, but he wanted to hear her answer.

“Uh-huh. I want it so bad, Daddy. I can be so good for it, I’d love it.” Her whine was a little too loud, a coo leaving his lips as he lightly applied pressure at the sides of her throat to shut her up. The answer, the fucking eagerness of it had his cock twitching against her ass and his heart pumping a bit harder. Maybe it was just a heat of the moment thing, but the vulnerability of the moment had him doubting it was some sort of illusion.

“Mm. We can discuss that when you’re not so worked up and soaking the pretty panties I got you. You need to keep your voice down, be respectful.” The warning was twofold. He had to table that conversion or he’d get his hopes up far too soon. The slip up of honorifics, though, had been intriguing. “I’m Daddy right now, hm?”

“Mhm.” She attempted to nod as his fingers lightened their pressure. “Touch me, please. I’m achy.” Squirming slightly in his arms, another squeeze to her throat had her freezing in place before his other hand decided to ease down the waistband of her panties.

“I don’t know how I feel about you making demands, Pet, but you’re making quite a fucking mess.” His voice dropped, feeling her pulse in his fingertips. “God, you’re gonna cum so fuckin’ quickly. I can feel it.” Y/N was drenched, his thumb finding her slippery clit to rub in light circles. “It’s a little too much for your filthy whore mind, isn’t it? Sitting at my knees, acting like the perfect little submissive for me… Seeing all those pretty people playing, dressed up so nice. And now Daddy’s brought you to a nice little show. You paying attention?” He urged her attention towards the show. “He’s gonna cum on her face, just like I’ve been dying t’do. Or are you more aroused at the knowledge that anyone can look over and see your pussy being pet like a desperate slut?”

Yes, yes, yes. All of the above, check all the boxes. Y/N would beg more if she could find it in her brain to talk, but it felt so good. The light grip at her throat making it slightly harder to breathe, how he was talking hushed into her ear and the vibrations made her feel even more squirmy, his fingers on her cunt, she just felt like she was dreaming. Like this was some sort of high before the ultimate one, looking to the side and catching a few eyes on her. She’d made a tiny bit of noise before, surely making people aware that she wasn’t behaving, but it felt all too real now.

“And now you’ve gone dumb for me. I need an answer from you, Angel. Need a color before I make you cum.” He nudged her face to the side, lips resting against the corner of her own. “Color?”

“Green. I’m so good, I-I…” She panted, eyes glazed but looking into his own. They were hooded, dark, and it was obvious in all ways that he was aroused too. He showed more restraint than she did, but he wasn’t unaffected by it all. “Sir…” With little thought to consequences, her own hand came up to the back of his head and pulled him closer so she could press his lips against his.

Harry didn’t usually kiss in the club. He didn’t like them being seen in that way most of the time, feeling that those were supposed to be shared for more private and intimate moments- but Y/N had a way of making him throw a lot of his prior rules and regulations out the window. Didn’t she? He groaned quietly, licking into her mouth, trying to ignore the hot spark of arousal in his cock her hands tugging his hair closer to her had given him. For a moment, he gave in and enjoyed the taste of her tongue and the uncoordinated mess that was their kiss. He took the moment to slip two fingers into her cunt, curling them into her slick hole to get her to gasp. Hot and tight, he held back another moan at the feeling of her cunt fluttering around the intrusion. It was one of his favorite feelings, her breathing picking up against his mouth.

The broad hand around her throat tightened again, making her eyes peel open again. Wet mouth illuminated by the red lights around the room, he panted against her open lips. “Remember your fucking place. You want a kiss? You ask. You aren’t in charge. I am.” He growled, trying to keep his voice down as he fucked his fingers into her. “I’m the one in charge. Not you. I choose if you cum or not, I choose if you get kissed or fuck. Your body is mine to play with. You’d do well to remember that, or you’ll be the next one on that stage.” He grinned maliciously. “And I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I won’t be as nice as I’ve been before.”

Letting up on the grip, he swallowed her gasp with another kiss.

It was moments like this that Y/N could see it. She could see this being her life, this being her night out with him. Instead of dingy bars with sports games she didn’t give a singular fuck about, she could be here watching shows and learning, she could have Harry’s fingers deep inside of her, his cock inside of her, whatever he chose, giving her pleasure that was immeasurable to what she’d ever known before. A literal wet dream came true.

Y/N couldn’t respond, nodding lazily as the slick sound of her cunt being fucked with his fingers slicked up by her arousal became slightly audible. The throuple on stage was the loudest sound in the room, but underneath it all she could hear exactly what he was doing to her. It was humiliating to be this wet, to be this close to orgasm from a few minutes of his fingers thrusting in and out of her, a bit of choking, his whispers against her ear, a few people peering over at them and she loved it. His hand around her throat, keeping her tight to his body, and she felt the most free she’d ever been.

There was an attempt to warn him, his fingers prodding right at her spot and her legs beginning to tremble as she squirmed slightly on his lap, but he could tell she wouldn’t be able to be quiet. He’d have to force her to be. “Let go. Make a mess on my fingers and be fucking quiet.” The dominant let her take another deep inhale before he returned his fingers to the sides of her neck, applying pressure exactly where she needed it to steal the rest of her breath.

Y/N could see spots in her vision as she came. If he wasn’t stopping it, she probably would have sobbed out as she shook in his arms. Cumming hard and fast, hips bucking into his hand, his words cooed softly against her ear and brought up chills against her skin as the vibrations added to the sensations that tossed her over the edge.

“There you go, stay nice and quiet. Cum all over my fingers, you perfect fuckin’ girl.” He coaxed, pressing them against that spot over and over again whilst his thumb rubbed her throbbing clit. She could feel the contractions of her walls around him, a deep breath being taken as he eased up on her throat to make sure she recovered, but he didn’t stop his prodding. “Work through it. People just saw that, yeah? Saw how good you are, amazing and how quiet you can be. Saw how beautiful you are when you cum for me. Such a precious angel.” Little kisses were pressed to her sticky skin, her mind pleasantly fuzzy and a little empty as his words soothed the orgasm that rocked through her body. “There we go, sweet girl. Y’did perfectly. Took your reward so well, yeah? You were made for this.” His praise added another layer of warm, fluffy comfort to the pleasant feeling that coated her body, the words echoing in her brain. All she could think about was how good she had been, how good it had felt. Good, good, good. She was a good girl and Harry was proud of her. “Gonna take you home in a few, baby. Just let you get a good cuddle in first, clean you up and sneak out of here. We’ll come back and you can see our new friends again.”

This whole thing had pleasured her. Not just the orgasm, but the entire place. Her head had felt calm since she’d settled at Harry’s feet, quickly getting over nerves and settling into that feeling of correctness. Ease. It felt like she belonged here, even with the underlying anxiety. With anyone else but Harry she wasn’t sure if she would have felt that, but it had just been another experience he had made positive for her. Of course he did. He was perfect.

He’d walked her through it, held her hand, helped her know what to expect but- She’d known she would like this sort of thing. Y/n had always thought about it, but actually experiencing it was a whole other beast. One she wanted to experience again, and again, and again- If Harry would let her.

525 notes · View notes

transmutationisms · 10 months ago

Note

this is probably shaped by my limited frame of reference, but im really fascinated by witnessing the real-time development of adhd as a diagnosis. people attribute so many symptoms to it now or maybe they always did? i was wondering if you have any thoughts on what is the use of adhd specifically as a category within psychiatry. I'm esl so sorry for any confusing wording

no you're right imo; diagnostic categories are always somewhat in flux ofc but ADHD is one that has seen a particularly pronounced shift in the last couple decades. obviously this is multifactorial but my observation goes something along these lines:

'hyperactivity' has been dx'd in children since about the 1950s (also when Ritalin hit the market) but the ADHD dx doesn't really take off until the 90s (also when Adderall, a 2nd-gen reformulation of the 'obesity' drug Obetrol, hit the market). so, it's not all that surprising that 20 years later you see increased patient awareness of the diagnosis, increased popular interest in it, and shifting / expanding ideas of what it means and what ADHD 'is'. it's a relatively young dx.

part of the reason it's young is because it's basically a 'biopsychiatric' dx, meaning it diagnoses certain behaviours as being a 'brain problem' rather than having social causes or context. in practice this is complicated because psychs do use pharmacological approaches in conjunction with psychodynamic ones all the time; nevertheless, the central promise of DSM ADHD and its pharmaceutical treatments has consistently been that the ADHD subject has a physiological, neurological disorder / dysfunction / aberration, and that the drug treatments on the market fix it. that none of this is actually empirically supported is conceptually inconvenient and entrenched by the research process.

the biopsychiatric narrative is worth paying attention to because the context here is one in which it has become commonly accepted that behavioural 'disorders' and affective distress of various kinds can be, basically, either of pure biological origin, or else Your Fault. in the case of childhood hyperactivity, Your Fault historically also included Your Mother's Fault; part of the reason many mothers embraced Ritalin in the 50s and 60s was because the proffered pharmaceutical narrative explicitly challenged the idea that these mothers had done something 'wrong' to result in their (mostly) sons exhibiting disruptive and hyperactive behaviour.

this dichotomy of biology vs personal failing is very overtly present in quite a bit of discourse around ADHD today. if it's my brain being 'wrong' or different, then it's not something I've done wrong but a disease with a simple chemical fix. in this context I don't think it's surprising at all that a lot of popular and patient conceptions of ADHD have seen a considerable widening over the past few decades. often people like to blame this on pharmaceutical companies, and it's true that industry benefits from these discourses and frequently invests in them (eg, via instruments like ADDitude mag). however, that's a pretty simplistic explanation on its own and doesn't really account for the ways in which patients and potential patients also find this diagnostic category personally useful, for reasons ranging from identity-formation to the desire to access prescription amphetamines. ADHD increasingly shows up as a biologised explanation for behaviours ranging from 'eating too many sweets' to 'postural sway' and so on. you can see in such examples how invoking the idea of an aberrant ADHD brain is both reassuring to people who have been made to feel ashamed of certain behaviours, and provides a sense of shared identity and community with others.

all of this is to say: I don't find it surprising at all when I see a relative broadening of notions of ADHD, almost always expressed in biological terms (the 'ADHD brain' operates differently, 'seeks dopamine', causes this or that). ADHD is in some ways a particularly blatant distillation of this general trend in popular psychiatric discourses, for reasons relating to expectations about childhood and child behaviour, and the historical and present relationship between the ADHD label and the regulation of amphetamines. but much of what's happening with ADHD in terms of popular discourses about it can also be seen with many, many other psychiatric diagnoses, to varying extents and in various ways.

my experience writing about ADHD on this website leads me to close by explicitly stating the following: I do not think any ADHD behaviours / symptoms are people's 'fault' or an individual failing; I do not think using drugs for any reason is morally bad or needs to be justified; the fact that I do not think ADHD is a 'brain disease' does not mean I think people are 'making it up' or exaggerating wrt any difficulties they experience personally, professionally, emotionally, &c.

#psychiatry

445 notes · View notes

inuyashaluver · 11 months ago

Note

seeing nimah with the baby was so cute! would you ever write nimah x reader maybe they visit reader’s family and they see how nimah interacts with the little one then they start asking reader about when they want kids but it’s not something reader and nimah have discussed so reader thinks nimah’s discomfort around the issue is because she doesn’t want kids but nimah just doesn’t know how to express that she wants to start thinking about their future so hurt/comfort and the common misunderstanding trope! Just an idea I had an wanted to share 🤍

are you kidding? - niamh charles

niamh charles x reader

description: in which you and niamh both want kids but are unsure how to express it

warnings: little tears, swearing, IM RUSTY

a/n: again, how do you people expect me to see a picture and react normally, I LOVE THIS WOMAN, thank you so so much for the request, much love, enjoy!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

it was rare that you and your girlfriend, niamh, had a disagreement. the two of you were very big on communication and outwardly expressing your feelings if you were angry, uncomfortable, sad, it didn’t matter.

talking for the two of you has always been important ever since the two of you started dating.

this was mainly due to the fact of niamh being hopeless when it came to flirting with you. you believing for a long time that she didn’t like you.

��

the girl was hopeless around you, not knowing how to act around you even though she’d known you ever since the england youth camps.

you always flirted with her and she didn’t know how to react, she’d be cocky at first but immediately faltered when you’d send her a charming smile. especially when she signed to your team chelsea back in 2020.

“hey, niamhy” you smiled kindly at her as you entered the chelsea change rooms, seeing niamh chatting along with zećira.

they both stop the conversation when they see you, niamh pink in the cheeks at seeing your sweet smile.

“hey, (y/n/n)” she breathes out, watching as you make your way over to both her and zećira. “hey, any plans for later? there’s a new cafe down the street that i want to try” you ask, making sure to look at niamh directly when you asked the question.

zećira chuckles at niamh’s surprised expression, sending you a little wink, niamh swallows, “i’m free, are you free?” she turns to zećira, “no, no, i’m not sorry” zećira grins, you smile at both of them expectantly.

this wasn’t the first time you had attempted to ask niamh on a date, the brunette always managing to bring someone else along to make it a group hangout rather than just the two of you.

“niamh” you call out, meeting her blue eyes with a sheepish smile, “i was hoping it would just be us two” niamh’s eyebrows raise slightly, both of your hearts pulsing with anticipation.

“oh” she chuckles nervously, “okay, let’s do it” she utters, “it’s a date” you wink, walking out of the change room, as you were already changed.

niamh watches you go and as soon as she sees your frame out of the door, she slaps zećira harshly on the leg.

“ow! what?” she winces, shoving niamh back, “i’m going on a fucking date” niamh exclaims, fiddling with the end of her shorts.

“it’s a good thing niamhy” niamh nods unconvinced, she’s been crushing on you ever since she was 15. how could you like her back?

and of course the date went well, once you outwardly told niamh that you actually liked her, the cocky, confident niamh that made you shy came out.

—

you and niamh had been dating for just over 3 years, both of you moved in and were extremely loved up with each other.

it was a sunny day in london when your family arranged a gathering with a bunch of your family members.

part of your invitation was with the insistence that your girlfriend came along, a family favourite for everyone.

“don’t you look gorgeous” niamh grinned as she watched you adjust your outfit in front of the mirror, coming over and standing behind you with her arms wrapped around your waist.

you smile and lean back into her when she presses a kiss to your cheek, “you look beautiful, baby” you grin at her in the mirror, letting her spin you to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

“ready to go?” she murmured against your lips, you nod, pecking her lips quickly and grabbing both of her hands.

“my family is a lot, if it gets too much, we can leave, okay?” niamh rolls her eyes fondly, kissing your forehead quickly before pulling you into a little hug.

“love, i’m fine” she assured, dragging you to the car excitedly at the thought of spending time with you and your family.

she squeezes your thigh excitedly as she drove, letting you give her a game plan on how to approach each and every family member in attendance, chuckling to herself that you did this every time she met them.

—

you grip her hand tightly when you reached the door of your aunt’s house, niamh giving your hand three squeezes for reassurance.

you look at her with a bright smile, about to ask for a kiss until the door was thrusted open by your aunt looking extremely tired.

“hello, lovebirds!” she grins, you and niamh returning the greeting with kisses to the cheeks and tight hugs.

niamh places a hand on the small of your back as you both went around and did the rounds, engaging in conversation after conversation with both of you sporting bright smiles.

“so niamh, are you looking after our girl?” one of your uncles said, you smile shyly when niamh presses a kiss to your temple, pulling you closer to her side.

“always, she has to take care of me more because she’s an angel” she smiles down at you, eyes full of adoration, drinking in your pink cheeks.

—

before the food even came out, you dragged niamh to the side of the backyard with a heavy sigh, thumping your forehead on her collarbone.

she chuckles, her arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, “you okay?” she whispers next to your ear, you mumble a yes against her, your arms going around her neck to hug her tightly before your name was screamed from the kitchen.

you groan, trying to hold on to niamh but the brunette pushed you back slightly, kissing you quickly and ushering you to help out.

you pout at her but leave reluctantly, knowing the longer you weren’t in that kitchen, the longer the lecture and you’d rather avoid one altogether.

niamh walked around your aunt’s backyard and settled in with the kids playing football. the kids always loved niamh and she’d often resort to them rather than the adults for some fun.

“niamhy, play with us!” one of your younger cousins grabbed her hand and dragged her over, smiling up at her with a toothy grin. niamh was quick to agree, smiling equally as excited.

“niamhy, you’re not kicking right” one of your cousins grumbled, she giggled brightly, apologising and letting the small boy adjust her movements the way he wanted.

it was until one of your much younger cousins, a one year old, was thrusted into niamh’s arms that she slowed down her movements.

the baby uncommonly fell asleep on niamh’s shoulder as soon as she was perched on her hip, much to the surprise of your family.

the baby was usually a handful and found it difficult to fall asleep. but niamh managed to get her to sleep in two minutes.

she was turned into a referee quickly and took her job seriously, only letting them get away with little fouls because they were having so much fun.

the kids all loved her, and so did the adults. niamh’s bright smile was hard to miss when you came back outside with platters of food.

you place the food down on the table and take in the scene in front of you. niamh with a baby on her hip while she giggled and refereed the game. to say your ovaries exploded was an understatement.

“that will be you soon” your aunt teases, you give her an expression of shock, stuttering on your words saying niamh wasn’t ready for kids, as the two of you hadn’t really discussed it.

both of you knew you wanted to spend forever together, that was common knowledge. but kids just hadn’t been brought up yet, you’d shown an interest but niamh ever really expressed a huge interest.

she’d coo over her friend’s kids, your family, her family but you never knew if she wanted some of her own.

niamh did want kids of her own but she didn’t know how to express it to you, not really knowing how you felt about them.

everyone got ushered to the table and niamh’s face brightened when she saw you, walking over to you gently to keep your cousin sleeping soundly against her.

she greets you with a soft kiss before she pulled out your chair with one hand, winking when you took your seat.

she sits down carefully, eating with your cousin sleeping soundly on her shoulder. “here, baby, let me hold her for a bit so you can eat” you offer but niamh shakes her head, letting go of her fork and holding your hand for a second.

“i’m okay, i’m the chosen one” she grins at you, you giggle, leaning over to kiss her cheek softly before you eventually end up feeding her the food on her plate because she was so focused on keeping your cousin comfortable.

—

when you both made it to the car after the gathering, you and niamh both let out a heavy sigh when you sat down, quickly breaking into a fit of giggles.

“high five, we did it” you chuckle when niamh holds her hand out to you, you slap her hand with yours, niamh’s fingers moving to interlace your fingers, pulling your hand to her mouth to press a gentle kiss over the back of it.

“we did it” you grin at her cheekily, niamh not missing the twinkle in your eye as you looked at her. “why are you looking at me like that?” niamh breathes out, cheeks turning a little pink at your look of adoration.

“nothing” you shrug, ushering her to start the car, she narrows her eyebrows at you but gives in, lacing your hands together and starting the car.

“you were so good with my cousins today, you know?” you glance over at her nervously, “they’re all so cute, i love spending time with them” she grins while watching the road, what she didn’t see was the tears brimming in your eyes.

you were overwhelmed with emotion for some reason, really wishing seeing niamh with the kids were your own.

it was until she heard a sniffle and felt the loosened grip of your hand in hers that she noticed. she glanced over quickly and panicked, thankfully able to park on the side of the road.

“babe?” niamh calls out softly, holding your hand tightly and taking off her seatbelt quickly. she ducks her head to make eye contact with you but you couldn’t look at her, overwhelmed with the feeling of embarrassment.

“hey” she gives your hand a squeeze, her free hand directing your jaw to look at her, meeting her eyes with a tearful expression.

“what’s wrong, my love?” you shake your head at her, letting out another sniffle, “nothing, i’m fine” you attempt to reassure her but she knows you too well, knowing you better than herself.

“baby, talk to me” she pleadingly whispers, you let out a shaky sigh, letting your girlfriend gently brush away the tears flowing down your cheeks.

“it’s stupid” you laugh wetly, niamh frowns at that, a scolding look almost. “nothing you feel is stupid, come on, baby, what’s wrong?” she gives you a reassuring smile, you can feel yourself calm down in an instant.

“when you were with my cousins, i couldn’t help but think about us” you said softly, almost impossible for niamh to hear but the small space in the car finally did her a favour.

“what about us, baby?” niamh digs a little further, her kind eyes making it easier to open up. “kids” you mutter, “our kids” niamh gives you a surprised expression, knowing the two of you haven’t really talked about this.

she also found it comical the two of you were parked up in a residential street 5 minutes from your home to discuss the topic.

“and i know you don’t want any with me and that’s okay, but i think the least you could do is get me a pet” you laugh wetly again, sniffling as you look at her,

“babe” she shakes her head, “are you kidding?” your eyes widen at her tone, she sounded a little offended and you were worried you overstepped.

“what?” niamh angles her body more towards you, “you really think i don’t want kids with you?” niamh’s eyebrows furrow again, face full of concentration as she analysed your facial expressions.

you shrug in response, a little hurt at the thought of niamh not wanting children with you.

“(y/n)” first name, this was serious, you thought.

“baby, i want nothing more than to have children with you, i always have” niamh pronounced, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

you look at her in slight shock, tracing her face for a lie and finding none, she was being honest.

“really?” you smile, she smiles back, happy to not see you crying anymore, “of course, my love, i’d get you pregnant right now if i could” she smirks suggestively, giving your hand another squeeze when she notices your pink cheeks.

“well, we better get home then” you tease, though niamh took it seriously, starting the car almost immediately and driving to your home.

literally dragging you out of the car and throwing you over her shoulder. sure, it couldn’t happen like this, but who are you to decline niamh?

—

you both discussed that children would happen a little later for the both of you, but it was certain to happen. you were both relieved to know what each other wanted.

you and niamh spent a lot more time babysitting cousins, nieces, nephews, dogs if you had to and it felt extremely natural and familiar for the both of you.

you were both excited for when those children would be yours, excited for what the future would hold.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you! ily pernille x

liked by _jessflem and 44,232 others

niamhcharles17: trying to steal the favourite cousin status from me

view all comments

yourname: she’s MY cousin

↳ niamhcharles17: OUR cousin

↳ yourname: i knew her first

↳ niamhcharles17: baby, i came with you to the hospital

↳ yourname: go away

zeciramusovic: waiting for your turn

↳ niamhcharles17: coming soon 😏

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso imagine #niamh charles #niamh charles x reader

527 notes · View notes

norman-fucking-reedus · 10 months ago

Text

HE ATE MY HEART!

“I love that girl”

gif by @corvidcrossbow

IM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST ON HERE AND ALSO TO POST SOMETHING TO THIS SONG

Vamp!Daryl has rotted not only my brain but the community. I am not sorry at all for the plague I'm spreading and I hope that it only gets worse.

So I've been doing some research on it, and I really like the idea of mixing the Blade universe w TWD, I did some more research on the different types of vampires (its kind of a lot so if you want you can go read abt them here!) To basically summarize, there's people, daywalkers (half vamp-people), walkers, full vampires, and then Revenants (half-walker half vampire, basically just another way to die)

This also makes it easier for whenever Scud becomes my next vampy victim

AUUUGH I NEED MY HOT SEXY NEEDY VAMPIRE MAN WHO JUST WANTS TO DRINK ALL MY BLOOD SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FUCKING PLEASE

also I am working on reqs yes I am, I have one scud fic that is dirty and nasty and should be getting posted soon. also I may not be on tumblr as much as I used to be because GUYS I am now employed yes that's right I got off my computer, went outside, interacted with people, and got a job #gangshit

It had been over a week since Daryl had eaten, and over two since he had left to go out on the community's monthly supply run.

As he stumbled through the opening gates, he felt like he had been through a war. His body was wracked with exhaustion, weakness, and hunger. The air was thick with the strong scent of blood, and he couldn't keep himself from groaning painfully when he was bombarded by Carol and Rick asking where he had been, what had taken so long, and if he was alright.

“No! M’not alright dammit” He barked at them in frustration after being asked for the third time if he was alright, his voice laced with irritation and discomfort. Carol couldn't help but notice his pale and clammy appearance.

Her forehead creased into a frown as she tightly pursed her lips, giving Daryl a scolding look that made him uneasy. With a tone of concern, she asked, "I'm worried. When was the last you fed?"

The man's face twisted in discomfort as Rick and Carol stood in his space. He scoffed and muttered, "Not recently, m'fuckin' starvin'" The longer he stayed, the more his head spun and his vision blurred, causing the corners of his eyes to fade into a deep red color. His stomach churned uncomfortably, and he could feel his teeth starting to ache.

Rick observed Daryl's malnourished skin, staring at how he was almost transparent. His eyes were screwed shut as the sun harshly burned his sensitive orbs, and he was gripping the strap of his crossbow so hard that his fingers were starting to turn red.

"You should go see Y/n," Rick said, eyes fixed on his friend. "She should be back home and she's been asking about you. I think she misses you." Daryl's body tensed at the sound of your name, and a sudden chill ran down his spine, causing goosebumps to rise on his arms. He tried to hide his reaction, but Rick's sharp eyes didn't miss a thing.

Daryl's head drooped weakly as he could only manage a feeble nod. Rick and Carol had stepped off to the side for him, offering their silent support. Carol placed her hand gently on his shoulder, her grey hair falling across her face as she did so. Rick, with his stern expression, gave Daryl a look that he knew meant there was no room for argument.

His senses were already heightened to an extreme level, almost at an overload as the sun was abnormally bright, blazing down on him with a blinding intensity, making it difficult for him to even keep his eyes open. He could feel the heat searing his skin, causing beads of sweat to form on his forehead and trickle down his face. He noticed the way that his vest rubbed uncomfortably against him, the fabric clinging to his skin and making him feel sticky and irritable. His already aching teeth began to grind down against each other, and he could feel his razor-sharp fangs digging into the tender skin of his bottom lip, further fueling his pure discomfort.

Each step he took in the direction of your house was tiring and heavy, his dirty, muddy boots slapping against the ground as he dragged himself through the streets, promptly ignoring any strange or judgy looks that were thrown his way. He didn't have the time, let alone the strength to even bother paying them any mind. His stomach churned as his overwhelmed nose couldn't help but pick up the sickeningly sweet smell of blood.

It forced him to quicken his pace, trying to get just as far away from the public eye as he possible could. He didn't want to be looked at, didn't want to be stared at. He just wanted to get inside as soon as fucking possible and just tear off all his goddamn clothes. A ping of hope struck through him when he could see your familiar house only a short distance down the road, having to hold himself back from flat-out sprinting the rest of the way there.

Though it was only about a thirty-second walk, it had been the longest in his whole entire life, and walking up the small steps of your porch was like something out of a nightmare. He could disgustingly feel the material change in flooring when he stepped off the pavement and onto the creaky wood, the sound grating against his now way too-sensitive ears. Dear god, would someone fucking help him already?

Of course, as if on cue, the red front door to your house swung open, but instead of being met with a friendly face, he was met with the barrel of your gun.

"Daryl?" You questioned as you lowered the weapon slightly, a smile stretching across your lips once you had confirmed who was standing and dicking around on your porch. "Daryl!" You fully dropped your defensive position, stuffing the weapon in the band of your pants as you prepared to throw yourself at the man, halting when you finally took in his ruined appearance.

His breathing was labored, and it was hard to keep himself upright on his own two legs, forcing him to lean against the wall by the door. "Hey doll"

You scoffed at him in disbelief, "Don't you dare even "hey doll" me, mister! What the hell happened to you? Get in here right now" Grabbing the front of his vest and pulling his heavy body inside, Daryl groaning as each movement caused pain to his body, slumping against the door when you slammed it shut.

He couldn't be happier when he felt you prying the buttons of his stupidly itchy vest off, him shrugging it off as well as his crossbow, clattering down on the floor and probably chipping the metal further.

"Jesus Daryl, you look fucking terrible. Did you feed on anything at all out there?" You purse your lips as you analyze and checked his unnaturally pale chest, letting out a surprised hiss at the burn lingering on your fingers tips from where you had brushed them against the skin of his shoulder

Daryl groaned as you directed him to sit on the couch, the short steps from the front door already leaving him utterly winded, almost dripping in sweat as he wheezed each breath of air.

“‘Wasn’t much… ‘wasn’t much out there” He spoke breathlessly, head spinning and his stomach loudly churning when you stood in front of him.

When you extended a hand out to cup his face, he tightly gripped your wrist with a shaky hand. “Don’. Please don’” He didn’t want to feed from you, not like this, not in a state where he couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t absolutely drain you.

“Daryl” You whispered softly, frowning slightly as you started taking your shirt off, and he wanted to scream at your stubbornness.

You straddled his lap and gently brushed the hair sticking to his forehead off, his blue eyes starting to tint red as the smell of your blood was strong, right in his face. “I don’ wanna”

“I know you don’t sweetheart, but you’ll die. What am I gonna do if you die?” You cupped his face, forcing his gaze onto yours. He whimpered slightly at your touch, his whole body sensitive and reactive.

Daryl shivered when you combed fingers through his hair, hands curling around your hips when you directed his head to your neck. “I trust you, more than I even trust myself” You whispered soothingly into his ear, and he almost wanted to cry.

He could smell the blood coursing through you like it was a burning candle, and his mouth was uncontrollably watering. His fangs were sharp and heavy, aching with the need to sink into your skin, which is exactly what he did, groaning against you at the first drops of blood, not wasting against another second before he was greedily taking mouthfuls.

It was so good, so warm and fresh, sweet and bitter. Daryl had drank lots of blood before, and yours was easily his favorite. He craved it during his time out there, not just because there was a serious lack in wild animals, but because it was addictive.

He squeezed your hips, soft and pillowy in his buzzing palms as he could feel himself starting to get hard in his pants, the more blood he swallowed the more drunk he got.

It made you feel good to watch his natural tan color fade back, his scarred back no longer a ghastly pale. You ran your fingers through his hair, occasionally curling your fingers and gripping the dark locks to grind down against his now-straining cock.

Daryl made soft, small sounds as he fed, each roll of your hips making each gulp of your blood taste so much better. His senses were at an all-time high, overwhelmed and at an absolute edge. He couldn’t help the way his hands pressed you down on his cock, hips desperately jerking against you as he could feel himself getting closer and closer, his head spinning in a blood lust haze.

He was so close, so very fucking close. His sharp claws had made themselves known, and you jolted when they painfully curled into your flesh, hips sputtering and slightly faltering in their movements. Daryl had no problem picking up the slack, almost fucking you right through his pants from how hard he was rutting up into you.

It was just all so much, his whole body on fire with pure arousal as he sighed around a final mouthful of crimson, trembling from his core as his orgasm washed over him, pressing your clothed cunt against him as hard as he could, making his already fuzzy mind draw a complete blank, a loud groan tearing from his throat that caused his fangs to slip out from where he had punctured the skin and drop his head against your shoulder, whimpering softly as he held you down.

You scratched his scalp comfortingly, feeling a little woozy from the amount of blood he had taken. He hummed against you as he started to come down from not only the high of his orgasm but bubbly buzz from his feast.

“Feel better?” You asked in a quiet, sleepy voice when Daryl’s tongue cleaned the drops of blood that had leaked from the small wounds, coating the area in his saliva so that it could heal.

He nodded as peppered you in appreciative and apologetic kisses, pulling you flush against his bare chest by wrapping his arms around your back, claws retracted and replaced with blunt nails. “M’sorry fer hurtin’, ya”

“Instead, you should be sorry for not feeding yourself, mister” You said as you shook your head, pinching his side as you got a bit upset again. “You know it scares me shitless when you do that”

“I know, I know. M’sorry for tha’ too” Daryl grumbled, feeling fatigued as well now that his tummy was full and satiated. His body was still weak and needed rest, now yours did as well considering he had taken a lot more than usual. “I’ll make it up to ya’” He said as he pushed himself up off the couch, grunting as it was a lot harder with tired muscles and one hand keeping his woman wrapped around him, adding a second once he was finally standing.

You giggled at that, arms hooked around his neck. “And just how will you do that?”

“Got a real good idea” Daryl smirked, hoisting you up as he ascended up the stairs to your shared bedroom, hungry for something else that was much better than blood.

I started writing this a few days ago I think this is the quickest I've written something

Vamp!Daryl is an absolute need. I'm loving every single post I see of him and I love watching the disease spread faster than fucking covid I jump for joy when I see someone I don't even know talking abt him is this what fame feels like is this what its like to be famous am I fucking famous

yes you do want more of this so go read more

Bloodthirsty @dixons-sunshine

Bite me @mydearestdaryl

265 notes · View notes

darylbae · 8 months ago

Note

Always read your fics and enjoyed them from afar , , why not send a request ! ^^ Don't feel pressured to write this too this is a little weird now that I read it over and sorry for the long req ! ! >< Could you write some an angsty or fluffy oneshot of a reader infected with the deadly flu during (i think) early season 4 and Daryl determined to cure her of the sickness. Them both having conversations between the glass of the prison where the reader is just at the point of giving up and accepting they'll die by this flu and Daryl is trying to give them hope. There's the scene with the group who went to the veterinary (..?) college/university to grab medicine for Hershel to use where they find out Bob didn't grab shit and Daryl just goes off at him because the reader was so kind and generous to him wdym you only grabbed BOOZE?? And then it ends with the reader who's cured of the flu, running into Daryl's arms both relieved and happy that they can finally hold each other again. Which ends in Daryl showering them in kisses because yay they're cured ! The idea just came to me while I was laying at the beach, "If the reader, his lover, was infected by the flu how much more angry would Daryl be with Bob when he only grabs alcohol?"

quarantine — daryl dixon

in which the flu catches up to you, and daryl is stressed about losing you

note: my requests are still open!! i have a few to write but im still happy to accept them! <3

Your job prior to the apocalypse was a caregiver to the elderly, so you had experience with a lot of medication and general practice of caring for someone. It's why Daryl had become so drawn to you, seeing you care for your people, or even people from Woodbury that had just been taken in, you gave everyone the same love and attention regardless of time spent with them. Daryl hadn't realised his longstanding affection for you until this flu outbreak within your prison community. You'd volunteered to help everyone alongside Herschel, caring more about the well-being of others more than your own. Until you'd gotten sick. "It was inevitable, honey," you spoke, not having the energy to even raise your voice above a whisper, "I'm glad I kept everyone in here hydrated, fed, and stable. But we're not seeing any progress." Daryl was on the other end of the window, eyes staring intensely into yours, wishing he could touch you, wishing he could hear your voice clear as day and not muffled due to being separated. Daryl sighed in defeat. "You don't deserve this." "Nobody does, but we need medication, Dar." You admitted. "It's the only way for people to get better, otherwise, we'll die in here." The thought of losing anyone else was enough of a push to find some medication, but the thought of losing you was enough to get him anywhere. He'd ride for days, hell, he'd walk for days if it meant you could get better. "I'm taking a group out, I'll get ya the meds. Just rest f'me, okay sweetheart?" Daryl was pleading now, you could hear the whine in his voice. You nodded, coughing into your hands as you hobbled away.

Days had passed. You couldn't get out of bed most mornings, even as Herschel did his rounds. Usually you'd join him, making sure everyone had water and food. But your bones ached, your head was pounding, you were sweating through your clothes. "Why don't the caregivers care for themselves, hm?" Herschel asked, entering your cell with a pitcher of water. You smiled painfully, reaching for your cup and holding it up for him. "Not used to it, I guess.." You wheezed, stabling yourself before another coughing fit. "How is everyone?" "Good as they can be, I guess." "Any word on the meds?" You asked, wanting to take the moment off yourself and onto a cure. Herschel shook his head. "Daryl keeps asking about you, though. It's rather sweet, really." "He is. Contrary to how he acts." You smiled, the thought of how he only acted around you. You'd caught him smiling a few times, even laughing at your terrible jokes. "I know a man in love when I see one."

Herschel had alerted you that Daryl was by the window again, asking for you. So you'd made the effort to hobble out of your cell and over to the window. And Daryl almost collapsed at the sight of you. Pale, hunched over in pain, sweat dripping from your skin. Your once glowing skin replaced with dullness, dark circles under your eyes. "Hey," you whispered, your hand on the glass, "how are you?" "How are you?" He asked, matching your hand with his and the both of you craved the feeling of the other's skin on yours. This was pure torture. "I can't do this anymore, Dar." You tried to take in a deep breathe, but you would wheeze as you did so. "It's getting harder. To talk, to walk, to move at all." Daryl's brows furrowed, trying to hold in every ounce of emotion threatening to spill out of him. "I know, sweetheart, I know." "They really need those meds in here, they're not getting any better." You confessed, there was no point trying to hide it now, you'd be walkers in a matter of days. "I'm gettin' em, I promise. Jus' been findin' fuel and supplies for our trip, we're leavin' today." Daryl mumbled, doubts and fears running rampant in his head. "Jus' came to say goodbye and I'll be back for ya." "I know you will, when I'm better I want a nice hug from you. It's the least bit of affection I deserve." You smiled, matching his as he shoved his middle finger up at you. But you knew what he meant. You could wait to tell him you loved him too.

Daryl had gone with Michonne, Bob, and Tyreece to a veterinary college for the medication, but Daryl couldn't think straight. He hadn't realised just how much you meant to him until you were isolated away from him. And he wasn't going to keep it to himself anymore. "We're in and we're out." Daryl instructed the team, leading them into the building. "Grab everything you can." He was so focused on finding the names of everything he needed, shoving it into his bag, he had his sights set on his objective and nobody else. Walkers had become the least of his worries. Even when the escapes had been overrun with walkers, he'd found a window which took them out to a roof. "We can walk over this roof, get us away from 'em." Daryl suggested, helping Michonne through the roof and carefully out of the building. The four steadily climbed out, aiming to walk along and find a quiet place to drop down, but Bob had lost balance and almost let go of his bag. Daryl turned, seeing the commotion and seeing Bob so desperately clinging to the back, completely ignoring any sense of fear from the walkers. "Just let it go!" Tyreece called out, but Bob was adamant on pulling the bag up. And Daryl had leaned forward to retrieve the bag from him. "What's so damn important in here, huh?" Daryl mumbled to himself, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a bottle. A bottle of what looked like whiskey. "All that for a drink?" Daryl reached his arm up to lunge it away, but Bob let out a yelp. "Please," he pleaded, "don't. It's just for when it get's quiet." Daryl was seething, why should he listen to his cries? He was on a selfish solo-mission. "Just give it to him." Michonne sighed, still wary of her footing as the walkers were clambering for their feet. "I can't believe this shit!" Daryl exclaimed, Bob's eyes fixed onto the alcohol sloshing around in Daryl's hands. "Should've left ya to die out there, we been so nice to ya. Y/N's been so nice to ya, and ya don't care one bit." "You take a sip of this before these meds get in our people," Daryl stepped to Bob, a menacing expression on his face as he shoved the bottle into his chest, "I will beat your ass into the ground."

It was a silent trip home, Daryl in the front seat with his head on the window. He couldn't stop thinking about you, about whether you were dead or alive. He was praying for the latter, and Daryl never prayed. In his life, he was so anti-God but when it came to you, he'd try anything. So seeing the familiar prison gates, Daryl almost leapt out the car whilst it was still rolling. He'd taken the bags of supplies straight to the quarantine zone, throwing it over to Herschel and sitting impatiently by the window. The window you'd always talk at, pressing your hands against it together, the one he hoped wouldn't have to separate you any longer. He had nothing to do except wait. He'd anxiously play with the ends of his hair, biting on his lip whilst he waited for any signs of progression. He sat, completely alone, just waiting for you. Completely unaware of the time passing around him. It wasn't until Maggie spotted him, and approached him slowly. "Everyone's taken the meds, they just need rest." She confirmed, and his heart lifted. "She's okay, but I think you need some rest too." "Thanks." Daryl spoke softly, a small smile on his lips as Maggie had exited the quarantine zone. He'd only waited a little while longer, until admitting defeat for the night.

The next morning, Daryl was up and spent the morning outside. Fixing the fence, stabbing some walkers in the skull, the usual daily tasks for him now. He'd accepted that you'd needed your rest, at least you were alive. But the weight still sat in his chest, even knowing you were on the mend, he wanted you. He needed you. Bob's selfish actions yesterday were now but a passing thought, he was solely centered on you. So he'd eaten some food, spoken to Carol, gone about his day as he usually would. Except you were missing. It had gotten to the evening, the sun setting behind the trees and it was a sight he wished to experience with you. "Hey handsome," he heard behind him, his head snapping to the direction of your voice, seeing you stood, weakly, against a wall. "Oh my God," he tried to speak, but it came out as more of a whimper. He'd abandoned his smoke, throwing it onto the ground before wrapping you into his body. Feeling your skin on his, your voice blessing his ears, it felt too good to be true. "Dar," you croaked, "too tight." You giggled when he'd released you, brushing his hands down your back, not wanting to take his hands from you.

#inbox 💌#daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl x female reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon incorrect quotes #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon blurb #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon imagines #twd daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl dixon #daryl dixon the walking dead #twd daryl

197 notes · View notes

planetdream · 4 months ago

Text

VAMPIRE SEVENTEEN

this post contains: vampirism, canon vampire lore depending on who you ask. mentions of blood, bloodsucking ofc. and mentions of sex [grinding, strength kink, orgasms] darker themes for wonwoo’s [hypnosis + kidnapping, sorry]

💌 sorry, this was rotting in my drafts. each entry has a different vibe. enjoy <3 this was requested btw

the man, the myth, the legend; SEUNGCHEOL is one of the greatest vampires out there (up there with dracula and nosferatu). he’s thought to be a myth, a story passed down generation by generation of an evil vampire that lurks in the night, you know, the usual. but every so often there’s proof, small hints that seungcheol is actually out there, lurking amongst the living. he rarely shows his face, only to seduce—plucking off one, maybe two, or groups of people for his dinner. seungcheol lusts for blood over anything. [he is indeed very dominant and very sexy—if you ask him to bite you, he absolutely will but he's more than likely to turn you.] kinda gives dracula 2020 vibe if you’ve seen it; he’s adjusting to the new world.

JEONGHAN is a rather "stereotypical" vampire. gorgeous, elegant, got turned when his hair was bleached, thus he's blond, bloodthirsty, and somehow even sexier. he's not one to lie about being a vampire, nor is jeonghan ashamed of it (he has no regrets); he'll flash his fangs or drink from someone in public, he doesn't give a fuck. and of course, what a slut he is. he loves to drink the blood of the person he's fucking, right as they're creaming for him. has allegedly had the most threesomes out of the thirteen. patrick bates type, flexing in the mirror as he's fucking; mind u, he can't see himself. has had a hand in the creation of a few vampires (direct result of him being slutty)

in his current lifetime, JOSHUA has decided to lay low. he's had several lifetimes of partying, drinking freely and the usual drama in the vampire community (centuries of arguing over the same shit). right now, he feels a bit lost, like something is missing. but he’s gained way too many hobbies to keep track of and he’s even started that wine company he’s dreamed of (mind you that was 100 years ago). he’s yearning, aching, lonely. envisioning him to be the type to be constantly searching for a soul that's like his long lost lover…signs up for hinge (bad idea); all of his matches want him to drink their blood once they find out that he’s a vampire, he’s not really into those that are eager for it.

ok im thinking vampire prince JUNHUI. you meet eyes with him in passing on a busy day. since then, he's appeared in all your dreams (most of them being of the romantic/erotic variety besides the small, sudden glimpses of blood and horrors, physically feeling a piercing sensation in your neck despite being asleep), he's shown up across the street of your work only to disappear in a blink, you've seen him in crowded places, just staring at you—strange, soft music playing in your head whenever he appears, seemingly caught up in his mystery. he doesn't appear for you until he's sure you need him; typically when something fairly traumatic happens. he sweeps you away in a time of uncertainty, offering to be your protector and to show you 'a new world'.

vampire boyfie SOONYOUNG. in classic vampire suitor fashion; he wines you, dines you, and if you want sixtynine (and other pleasures) are definitely on the table as well. i just imagine him to be extremely sweet and well meaning; which leads me to believe, he doesn’t tell you that he’s a vampire until like date five (he already assumes ur his partner by then). has a dilemma of ‘will they really love me if they knew about my affliction’. so he tells you, voice shaking. and you’re just like ??? hoshi? a vampire? LOL…. then he shows you his fangs—you watch how they protrude from his gums in real time; it’s quick, if you blinked you would have missed it. realizes that might’ve been a little off-putting and gets embarrassed. it’s okay tho, bc it makes him hotter :p

WONWOO, your incredibly hot history professor. you catch him on a dark street near campus one night, teeth buried into the neck of one of his students; veins popping out of his skin, face red in hunger as he feeds and feeds. once he spots you, he drops his prey—eyes filled with a look that’s a cross between fury and disappointment as he stomps over to you. it’s unnecessary to run, he’s already caught you before you’ve even turned your back. he whispers in your ear, tone enchanting like a lullaby. when you wake up, you find that your dark surrounding is actually a small, velvety box that contains you; stripped of your clothing in exchange for old satin material.

another vampire of the elegant variety JIHOON knows exactly how he wants to live the rest of his life, and he's not exactly looking for anything 'new'. he sticks to his bubble, his same set of friends and he only gets out every so often; preferring to bury himself within his own darkness and stench (a singular coffin in a singular room with no windows) only to come out for feasting purposes. i think that the one thing that does keep him tied to the earthly world is music; and often, he has published his own throughout the years under various names and genres. to jihoon, the best part of living (or lack their of) is the music; in addition to experiencing as much history as he has.

vampire boyfriend SEOKMIN longs for your blood. he craves to bite you. literally just say the word and he'll bite you. but only if you want. did i mention that he wants to bite you? has to look away from you when you're talking because he gets distracted by the pulsing vein in your neck; it speaks to him, whispering the breezing sound of blood rushing. he has to either look away from you or lock eyes intently with you; which ends up just looking like he's begging for pussy. and truth is, it absolutely does get him hard just thinking about drinking your sweet crimson nectar….oh the things he’d do..

ok so MINGYU has an advantage bc not only is he a vampire but he's built! like yeah, his physique won't change now that he's a vampire, and yeah, he now has vampire strength—he still goes to the gym. kind of just out of routine, but he says it still gives him a euphoric feeling. that being said, loves to pick you up and throw you around. strength play. you remember the type of sex bella and edward had in breaking dawn? that’s a regular for mingyu. almost regularly having to by new bed frames because when mingyu fucks, he really fucks. don’t worry though, he’s not always rough!

i am inclined to believe that MINGHAO is throwing blade-style, sexy bloodbath vampire parties as a sort of side gig or he's just been swayed into the club scene this lifetime. he's the guy you keep seeing at the club for weeks on end, and when you lock eyes with him, you hear a whispering in your ear. and all of a sudden, you want to approach him but he's gone before you can. one night he's the one to approach you. thus queuing a heavy, steamy make out in the club followed by some grinding. next thing you know, you're at his place and he's showing you all that life can truly be, all of the pleasures and curiosities. he shows you his fangs, as well, doesn't care if you're scared or not (he likes the fear, though). he does ask to bite you; and if you say yes, he indeed marks you up.

VERNON got bit rather recently (couple hundred years). in his human life he was very curious about the concept of life as well as life after death, immortality, and subsequently, vampirism. he drove himself into become a madman until his studies led him to becoming his own study subject. he projects that, if he's lucky, in the next hundred years he'll be able to build a vampirism research facility. despite being a vampire, there are still some things that he doesn't know. and for some reason, even after becoming a vampire, his research is always with humans in mind. he wants to help humanity improve, evolve, possibly to something greater.

SEUNGKWAN found a way to get rich off of being a vampire. he's a celebrity; a multimillion dollar 3-book deal (the first being an autobiography, he's thinking of making a vampire 48 laws of power next) and a late, late, late night talk show. occasionally joins the news to talk about the latest in vampire society (he's a spokesperson of sorts, often campaigning for vampire rights and such) and politics. inclined to believe he was a vampire therapist at one point. he’s more than just a pretty face and excellent conversationalist, though, he's had to overcome a lot of trials and tribulations in his many lifetimes (the perseverance of a vampire now available at your local bookstore)

vampire lee CHAN is dangerous!!! he's snatching hearts and breaking them (and slurping the blood out of them). the type of vampire that just needs some black sunglasses and he's fully able to walk in the daylight (no, he doesn't sparkle, but he wishes he could). doesn't have many enemies unless you count some of his exes then well.... he's not into turning anybody because although he loves being a vampire, those first few thousand years were filled with so much agony—watching your loved ones pass on, witnessing horrors beyond your imagine and knowing that there is nothing you could possibly do about it despite your gift of immortality. he'd rather just drain people of their blood and leave it at that (genuinely thinks its foolish to want to be a vampire, and will be offended if asked to turn someone). seriously, don't ask him to turn you.

#☁️ — daydream.svt #seventeen headcanons #seventeen smut #vampire seventeen #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #svt headcanons

109 notes · View notes

allisluv · 3 months ago

Note

this is a random idea, and you totally dont have to write it if you arent comfortable but could i maybe request a oneshot about reader who sh with finnick and like they havent had sex yet because she doesnt want him to see her scars and its just lots of comfort and really fluffy?

good things come to those who wait.

pairing: finnick o'dair x fem!victor!reader

content warnings: this work contains topics regarding self-harm and scars, however nothing is graphic at all, and this is mainly focused on the comfort aspect of things. finnick is a sweetie pie, pre-established relationship, mentions of sex but nothing intimate, hurt/comfort.

word count: 1.0k

author's note: this is a topic that really hits home with me, and my intentions are never and will never be to offend anyone. my inbox and dm's are always open. this work is purely made to help people feel less alone, not to romanticise any topics covered.

Finnick has always been ever so sweet with you. He has never once made you feel pressured into doing anything you weren’t ready for, and that’s one of the many things that separate him from your past boyfriends.

You know he would never even think about judging you for the scars on your thighs but no matter how much you reassure yourself that he wouldn’t mind, there is still that tiny voice in the back of your head that says, “What if?”

You’re seven months into your relationship with Finnick when you decide that it’s best you sit him down and have a conversation with him about how youre feeling. Things are starting to get serious and you can tell that despite his gentleness and his patience, he’s beginning to worry that there’s another reason for why you havent slept with him yet. Finnick opened up to you about his sexual trauma in the Capitol pretty early on into your relationship and you don’t want him to worry that you think he’s “broken” or “damaged goods” and that’s why you haven’t slept with each other yet, because that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You think Finnick is without a doubt the most handsome man you have ever laid eyes on— but he’s so much more than that, too. Hes considerate and thoughtful and caring and kind and you don’t want to ever make him think he’s not good enough.

So despite your anxiety, you push through and anxiously wait on the sofa for Finnick to return home from his dip in the ocean.

Your heart is thudding against your ribcage so fast that you fear it may jump straight out of your chest. The front door opens and shuts before Finnick calls out your name.

“Im in here!” You shout back, focusing all your effort on keeping your voice steady and calm.

Finnick peeks his head into the living room and smiles. Two dimples poke into his cheeks, one on either side of his mouth, as he grabs a beach towel off the radiator and starts to dry himself off. He’s caught off guard when you don’t immediately start chastising him for dripping water in the house, and that is the first thing that sends bells off in his head. “Angel? You okay?”

You suck in a steadying breath and pat the sofa next to you. “Can we talk?” Finnick’s mind starts whirring into overdrive as he worries that you might be breaking this off with him, and you instantly backtrack when you see the panic on his face. “No, no, I’m sorry. Don’t panic, I just need to tell you something. It’s nothing bad, Finnick, I promise.”

He seems to relax a little at your comforting words but his steps are still tentative as he crosses the room and sits down on the sofa next to you. “Alright,” He says warily. “Do you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

You swallow the lump in your throat. You know this is going to be an awkward conversation to have, but both you and Finnick agreed that communication was key to maintaining a healthy relationship. You figure you might as well be honest and get this over with. There’s no point in beating around the bush so you come right out and say it as bluntly as possible. “I wanted to talk about why we haven’t had sex yet. I mean, that’s something you want, right?”

Finnick nods reassuringly. “Of course it is but only when you’re ready. I don’t want you feeling pressured into it.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “I want to. God, I really, really want to. I’m just scared.”

Finnick tilts his head to one side but slowly reaches out to grab your hand. He intertwines your fingers together. “Okay. What are you scared of, angel?”

It takes everything in you not to burst into tears and you have to clear your throat a couple of times before talking aloud. “I have scars. On my thighs.”

Realisation dawns on Finnick but he doesn’t open his mouth to say anything. Instead, he nods to show that he is listening, and squeezes your hand to encourage you to continue.

“I was going through a really tough time after I won my games. I turned to some… well, less than healthy coping mechanisms. I’m better now. I haven’t done… that, in a good few years. But I still have scars from it.” You take a deep breath, keeping your eyes trained on a spot on the floor in front of you. “I know you wouldn’t judge me but I was just scared that you’d think I was damaged or—”

“Okay, let me stop you there.” Finnick cuts in. His voice is stern but soft. “Angel, some scars don’t scare me, and they certainly don’t make me think you’re anything less than beautiful. All it does is tell me how resilient my girl is. I would never think less of you for this. I need you to know that, alright?”

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest. “No, I know that, I just— I don’t know. I was scared you were gonna leave me.”

Finnick uses his free hand to smooth your hair off your forehead. “I know, angel, I know,” He murmurs. “Youre not gonna get rid of me that easily, okay? I’m in this for the long haul.” He smiles softly and knocks his shoulder into yours.

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth as you finally make eye contact with him. “You’re not saying this just to make me feel better, right?”

Finnick scoffs but his voice is full of affection when he speaks. “Angel, you should know by now that I’m gonna tell you the truth, regardless of if you want to hear it or not.”

You chuckle. “Fair point, well made.” You hesitate. “So, you know, just to clarify, you do want to sleep with me?”

Finnick grins. “More than anything. But we’re gonna do this at your pace, okay? We’re gonna take it as slow as you need.”

Your lips tug downwards into a frown. “You don’t mind waiting?”

Finnick pecks your forehead. “You know what they say, good things come to those who wait.” He pauses. “And, angel?”

“Mhm?”

“Scars or not, I still think you’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

125 notes · View notes

bluecanvasshoe · 2 months ago

Text

Frankly, Mr. Shankly

platonic!Marauders x gn!Gryffindor!reader

Picture from Lucy Orpwoodd on Pinterest!

Summary: You've been feeling inadequate in everything, really. It seems the people you thought were pushing you away are the only ones who can help calm these thoughts.

Content: reader struggles with feeling 'average' and 'not good enough', everyone is a bit of an ass but they all apologize, hurt/comfort, Wolfstar is so far just pining in this and Remus is a lil salty, mentions of Sirius' family life :(, use of y/n (IM SORRY), teenagers being weird and communicating poorly

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: WOW i didn,t expect to be writing THIS much over the break, but i'm glad i have! i hope you all enjoy this one!! and: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!! MY FIRST FIC OF 2025!

and just to be clear: what’s said in this fic about being average IS NOT the truth. but average is perfectly fine, and what’s been written are anecdotes from the reader’s mind (and mine, hehe). do not take whats said to heart, because you’re amazing no matter what!!!!

title from Frankly, Mr. Shankly by the Smiths!

You've always loved your friends, and you knew they loved you equally. If there's one thing about the Marauders, it's that each second spent is a second valued.

Year five was likely the most fun you’ve had in your life. So, why would year six be any different?

Well, this is how.

Your best friends, your partners in crime, your platonic soulmates who complete the Marauders, a group of five rowdy teens, seemed too good for you nowadays.

You were always painfully average in just about everything. It was well known, and for a long time, it really didn’t bother you. It was easy, low maintenance, and no one expected perfection. But since the start of the year, you soon came to find out that this average-ness made it incredibly easy for you to be outshined.

For so many years, people told you that marks or your number of friends were simply figurative objectives or ideas that didn’t carry any real significance. These assurances, however, are only said aloud when there’s nothing to downplay in the first place.

If you’re extraordinarily pretty, people would say you are blessed, and if you’re smart beyond imagination, people would call you gifted.

If you’re none of those things, if you’re not in the middle or either end of the line, you do not receive compliments because hardly anyone sees a point in complimenting the mode. This isn’t to say that some don’t put in a good attempt at digging deeper; but when you seemingly don’t care nor try, no one sees a point in acknowledging something neither person cares for.

These small encouragements were simply a means to an end, a way to appease the unsatisfied.

You didn’t blame anyone for your faults; that’d be silly. No other Gryffindor, no other friend, would intentionally try to put you down. But intentional or not, they still did.

So when James became Head Boy and had actual responsibilities, you felt a little upset. Not angry or sad, but you did miss spending every hour with him and the others. Not to mention the arrogance that he now held. It’d usually be funny, but now it felt like he was too good, too smart for you. You couldn’t live up to the student body’s role model that is James Potter.

After that, Remus became a Gryffindor prefect. You were happy for him, he truly, 100% deserved it. But then he had his own duties too, and you noticed how much more focused and dedicated he was to his role; a good thing, yes, but he tended to drown himself in responsibilities, distracting him from the Marauders. You now felt brushed off when you tried to make conversation with him, as if other things, things that would’ve usually fallen second, came before his friends now.

Sirius had always been a heartthrob, but over the summer, something must’ve changed to make him more appealing to the eyes of your fellow students. More often than not, he’d be away with someone new, or a new person would tag along in your adventures. This person would then begin to think that they were a Marauder, and it made things incredibly frustrating to have someone who often disregarded your presence assert themself into your life.

Finally, Peter was now spending more time with his girlfriend, a Ravenclaw girl you’d never met and he never specified before. You were happy for him, but now he was so distracted with her and trying to impress her via marks that he didn’t have as much time for the Marauders anymore.

But what about you?

Nothing was new in your life; you hadn’t been awarded the title of prefect, or head of anything, or heartthrob, or the love of someone’s life.

At first, you were sad. However, the start of a new school year was always a little bit melancholy, so you chalked it up to post-summer blues.

But when the leaves started falling and you found yourself walking amongst orange and red trees alone, you became angry. Angry at your friends, Marauders or not, angry at teachers who constantly downplayed your achievements, angry at your fellow students, and most of all, angry at yourself.

If you couldn’t live up to be as good as the rest of the Marauders, did you even deserve to be one?

Did you deserve to be at Hogwarts?

You tried studying more often and staying behind in class to ask questions and improve your grades, but nothing worked. Nothing improved. In your mind, you were a lost cause.

–

It was breaktime, and you were hoping you’d get to hangout with the other Marauders. You stood from your seat in potions, slinging your bag over your shoulder and exiting the dingey classroom.

Exiting the room, you ventured to a classroom close by in hopes that Remus would be there.

“Moons,” you called, approaching him.

He looked up from a piece of paper he had in his free hand, noticing you with a smile. “Oh, hello, N/N.”

“Would you want to come with me to find the others?”

He frowned, gaze sympathetic. “I have a prefect meeting that’s supposed to run for the entire break. I’m sorry, but I really need to go this time.”

You hummed, feeling a twinge of sadness in your chest. “Okay, no problem. Would you like for me to walk you there?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No, I’ll be alright. I’m getting used to it, the cane.”

With a nod, you stepped aside to let him past you. “Alright. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later then, yeah?”

“Of course.”

It was always meetings, or supervisions, or patrols. God, he was too busy these days.

With no Remus to accompany you, you found the divination class where both James and Peter would’ve been.

James, noticing you from the corner of his eye, turned his head to face you. He had an arm around Peter, the two of them moving to stand beside the entrance of the classroom so as to not block those who were walking in the halls.

“Hey! How was potions? No Remus?” James asked, pushing his glasses up.

“Remus has a meeting-” “Right, that reminds me, um, guys, I have a study session this break.” Peter interjected, “sorry for the interruption, but I gotta go.”

“Oh, no problem, Wormy,” you replied, watching as James took his arm from Peter’s shoulder, shoving his back lightly as he walked off.

“You suck, James!” Peter called over his shoulder, receiving a hand-heart from his attacker in return.

You grinned, snickering a little. “Wanna come find Sirius with me?”

He smiled, his hands dropping to his sides as he made eye-contact with you. It was hard to look any of your friends in the eyes lately; you didn’t quite understand why. “Sure!”

You two had been making mindless, nonsensical chatter as you found your way to Sirius’ class. Lo and behold, he was there, leaning against the stone of the wall.

“Why’d you two take forever?” He groaned, standing up from the wall.

“Because your class is really far away,” James shrugged, him and Sirius doing their secret handshake. The long haired boy then turned to you, offering his hand for your handshake.

Once completed, you all began making random conversation, beginning to make your way down to the Black Lake.

“-And I mean, I’m Head Boy. Merlin, sometimes people are so stupid, it hurts!”

Sirius laughed, “yeah, I know. Sometimes people will think that, because I’ve had my fair share of partners and whatnot, they can just say whatever about me. It’s awful, especially when they believe that they’re my best friend for life. I cannot stand it.” He bemoaned dramatically.

“Exactly! People just believe that I’m everybody ever’s best friend because I’m Head Boy, and then-”

You didn’t try to interrupt the conversation; you wouldn’t have anything to say, anyways.

Head Boy, my relationships, prefects. It’s all everyone ever talks about, and it’s getting tiring.

–

Everyone, for the first time in a week, was gathered in the common room. Remus sat with Sirius on a couch opposite to you, James laying across a sofa that faced the fire, and Peter sitting beside where James’ feet landed.

Remus, seeming to remember something, raised his head to look at you. You who had been quiet, avoidant, and easy to anger in recent weeks.

“Right, Y/N, do you still have my copy of the Odyssey Homer I gave to you?”

You looked at him, jaw closed tightly. “Uh, yeah. I can return it in a bit.”

“Could you maybe get it now?” He insisted, his tone kind, but almost cautious. You felt bad for the fact that he felt he needed to be careful, guilt weighing more than it already did.

“...Yeah, alright.” You muttered half-heartedly, setting aside your book and walking past the couches. The warm, cozy atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room would usually be comforting, but it only made you feel more upset. Upset for the time lost between the five of you, and longing for the connection you all had in previous years.

You walked up the steps to your dorm, one of your roommates sitting on their bed. They looked up from a book about divination, giving a wave as you trudged over to your bedside table.

“You’ve been grinding your teeth in your sleep again,” They commented, dogearing a page of the textbook and closing it. “Does your jaw not hurt?”

You ignored their question, head turning to look at them. “Oh. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Last time I did, Y/N, you were all pissy.”

“Still,” Your head turned back to the drawers as you crouched down, opening a drawer and searching through it. “I would’ve made up for it.”

“Not the point, Y/N. You’re acting weird.” They crossed their arms, leaning back against their headboard.

You paused, heart beating a little faster. So it’s noticeable? Merlin, of course it’s noticeable. But that means that your other friends have noticed it too. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. What’s eating you?”

Sighing, you closed the drawer and opened another one. “It’s just stress from school.”

They hummed, “You just said it was nothing.”

“It is, but now I’m telling you it’s school stress.”

“Exactly. You switched up your excuse because you’re refusing to say what’s been going on with you; it’s something else.”

You sent them an unamused look, trying to appear nonchalant. “Merlin, nothing’s going on. Will you drop it?”

They sighed, picking their textbook back up. “Christ, alright.”

You found the book you’d borrowed with a relieved sigh, closing the drawers of the nightstand and leaving your dorm with an unusual hastiness. Returning to the common room, you wordlessly gave Remus the Odyssey Homer and sat down again.

James craned his head towards you, stopping mid-sentence and interrupting his nonsensical conversation with Sirius. “You alright there?”

Looking up, you raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Why?”

He shrugged, “You haven’t been talking as much. Did we do something? If we did, you’re allowed to punch us all really hard if you tell us what.”

You huffed. They hadn’t done anything, not really. “You guys didn’t do anything.”

Sirius hummed, tilting his head. “You are acting kinda weird, though. We obviously did if you’re being this avoidant, mate. You can talk about it, we’re not gonna be angry.”

“You’ll feel better if you do,” Peter piped up, his words drawn out.

You hesitated. “It’s so stupid.” You muttered, looking at your lap.

“What’d you say?” James asked, leaning forward.

“‘It’s stupid’,” Replied Remus, using air quotes. James gaped, standing up to march over to your couch and sit down beside you.

“If it’s making you feel so upset, then it’s obviously not stupid!” He huffed, a hand on your shoulder. You grimaced, shoulders hunched.

“It’s not a big deal, though. I really shouldn’t be as upset as I am.”

“Nonsense, N/N! Don’t say that,” he chided. Peter leaned forward, each of your friends donning worried expressions.

Sirius scoffed, “you tell me I’m perfectly reasonable whenever i’m upset about my family, so stop being a hypocrite and tell us!”

“It’s not that easy, Pads.” You replied, frowning.

“I know it’s not, but we all trust each other, yeah? You know we wouldn’t judge you like pricks,” He reasoned, dragging Remus with him to squeeze into the vacant space beside you on the couch. Peter got up, opting to sit at the bottom of the sofa by you.

After a few seconds of hesitation, you felt your bottom lip quivering. James frowned, leaning forward to get a look at you; curse him and his observant qualities. “Awe, no, don’t cry,” he held one of your hands, fiddling with you fingers in an ever to calm you. “Actually, no, crying is good. But please, what’s wrong?”

The others, in a collective effort you get you talking, piped in small encouragements.

You wiped your eyes, sniffling. “I feel… I dunno, I feel stupid. Like- like you guys are too… good for me.”

“What? No!” James gasped.

Sirius frowned, an arm around your shoulders. “Absolutely not. You’re not stupid, and we are not ‘too good’!” He exclaimed, acting as though the mere thought was outlandish and preposterous in nature.

“Why would you think that?” Asked Remus, his voice gentle and coaxing.

You shrugged, swallowing your tears. “You’re… You’re all accomplishing things. And I’m really happy for you all, but I-” your voice cracked, the painful constricting of your throat cutting off your words. You’re not sure if your tears are out of anger or sadness. “I’m not doing anything. I’m not achieving anything impressive. I’m surrounded by amazing people, but I can’t even live up to a quarter of the person they are, and I’m so tired of it.”

You purse your lips, wiping at your eyes again. “And I- I…” With a deep breath, you felt the frustration in your chest bubble up again, the irresistible urge to snap consuming your thoughts and controlling your mouth. “I can’t be the person everyone else is; I’m so average it hurts, and every day I’m reminded of the fact that I’m not and won’t ever be as good as everyone else because now I’m being left alone with my thoughts more often. And- and it’s because all of you have some new title, or are too busy studying and I miss being friends with all of you and I feel so selfish, but I’m so pissed.”

When you were done, you took in what was likely the biggest breath of your life, lungs expanding wider than they ever had. Not even running could render you as out of breath as you currently are.

The rest of the Marauders fell silent, sharing expressive glances and mulling over the right things to say.

“We’re still friends. Marks, names, none of that... actually matters to us. They’re just things.” Peter replied, his voice soft.

You huffed, blinking back tears. “Everyone says that because no one understands that I try so hard to achieve that ‘thing’. It’s so much more to me than that; I just- I just want to be good enough.” You choked out, the anger fading from your voice and being replaced with a pathetic, sad crackle.

James’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “Hey, no, you are good enough. We don't care about any of that,” his tone grew to become more serious than it previously was, his words carrying double the weight. “We became friends with you because we all sat in the same train compartment and got along when we were eleven. Do you think we cared when we were kids?”

You took a steadying breath, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Do you think we care now?” He continued, thumb rubbing shapes into the bone of your shoulder.

“I don’t- I don’t think so.”

He nodded, “Good, ‘cause we don’t; you’re an enjoyable person, we value that the most!”

“Just because Prongs and Moony’ve got posh new titles doesn’t mean they’re better,” Sirius commented up from your other side, nudging you. “If they really believed in that stuff, do you think they’d be friends with us? I mean, we have a detention slip scrapbook, mate. Not really goody-two-shoes behaviour.”

You huffed a laugh at the mention of your shared collection of write-ups, wiping at your eyes.

“That’s not everything though, is it?” James and Remus chorused, giving each other a quick high five soon after.

You took a second, but you eventually shook your head ‘no’ once more. “Sirius, the people you’ve been hanging out with, they… I don’t like it when someone new is with us.” You said cautiously, looking at him in the corner of your eye. He blinked a few times, nodding. “They ignore me, Remus and Peter most of the time and it- it just feels a bit… degrading?”

Sirius’ mouth opened, giving a slow, understanding nod. “Ooh. Yeah… I can see why,” he sympathised with you, looking at Remus briefly. “Moony and I have talked a bit about it. I swear, I’m not doing it ‘cause I think we need someone new, but I don’t want to abandon you lot to go be with someone so seems cool; not as cool us, of course. I’ve tried not to involve them in our hangouts a ton, but- I dunno, I suppose they get in their head about it and act like they’re a part of our group. I’m sorry, not just to you, but to everyone. I’ve been an ass.”

You smiled, looking at him. “Thanks, Pads. It’s okay.”

He shook you a little, frowning. “Awe, don’t say that, hold me accountable. James said you could punch us, you could punch me!”

With a grin, you shook your head. “I’m not gonna punch you. That was shitty, though.”

“It was shitty, so if you won’t, I’ll punch him!” James offered, his usual attitude reappearing as he enthusiastically raised his hand.

“Let’s not punch each other,” Remus said at the same time as Peter interjected, lifting his head to say, “Can we not?”

“They’re constantly inhibiting our fun,” James whined, stretching his arm over you to hold hands with Sirius, who had a dramatic, forlorn expression on his face.

“We’re hated by everyone.” Sirius sighed, shaking his head.

Remus raised an eyebrow, frowning. The look he gave Sirius, the one the other would gaze at him with in much the same way, was one of longing and affection. It was torturous, really; seeing how in-love but convinced about its assumed one-sidedness they were. “Do you not have a fan club or something?”

“Let me be sad, Remus.”

James laughed, separating his hand from Sirius’ and looking at you again. “Seriously, though. We’ll never be ‘too good’ for you or leave you behind for something stupid like a title, mate. You’re our best friend, you always have been, and nothing will change that,” he squeezed your shoulders, glasses reflecting the warm light of the fire.

Remus nodded, “none of us were abandoning you. I suppose we all got distracted in our own ordeals, but we’d never knowingly distance ourselves from you. You’re one of us; your status doesn’t change that.”

You gave both Remus and James a watery smile, old tears drying in your eyes. “I’m sorry for being avoidant. I should’ve- I should’ve said what was happening, it’s not fair to you, I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” James exclaimed, removing his arms from you to outstretch at his sides, enveloping you in a hug immediately after.

Remus reached past Sirius, putting a hand on the middle of your upper back. “You’re a great friend, and I truly, honestly mean that. And you’re smart, too; don’t forget that. If I didn’t have you to talk with, I’d go insane. I hardly think they can even read.”

Sirius and James squawked dramatic refusals in response to his claim, causing Remus to grin smugly.

Sirius cleared his throat, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Anyways, if we’re all saying things we like about you, I still remember when you incendio’d that letter my mother sent in third year. I thought you were a badass. I still do; you’re cooler than that git.” He gestured to Remus, causing the scarred boy to raise his hands in faux shock, mouth slightly agape.

“I agree with what they said,” Peter interjected from the floor. “You’re a good friend. We all met on the train for a reason, I think.”

“Exactly, Wormy.” Sirius nudged Peter with his foot, the boy shoving it away in return.

After all was said and everyone was forgiven, you eventually all moved to form a group hug.

“Let’s pull a prank after this. ”James suggested, his voice muffled. “Let’s douse the hallways in grease from the kitchens again.”

Maybe the couch was tiny and didn’t fit all of you and maybe you couldn’t breathe anymore, but at least self-deprecation wasn't the cause for your breathlessness. The anxious, upset racing of your heart was replaced by happiness. The nasty thoughts clouding your mind and drowning out any sounds around you were replaced by giggles or dumb jokes from your closest friends.

For the first time in a few months, you felt that being average, normal, was okay.

62 notes · View notes