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jawllines · 5 months

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So on a Tuesday, Y/N wakes up from a fitful rest and leaves Harry’s bed to find him in the kitchen. Leaf is cradled to his chest while he speaks to someone on the phone – a designer, she thinks, they’re talking about a pattern of something, but Y/N isn’t sure. She doesn’t get to know either because as soon as Harry sees that she’s awake, he smiles, then hovers his finger over the end button, “Mael, I’ll call you a little later, yeah?” He hangs up without a second thought, and Y/N’s eyes go wide.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand.

“Nah, s’boring shit anyway. Chevron is a thing of the fucking past and it’s not coming back any time soon on my watch.” He turned on his stool, stretching out his legs and waving her forward, and when she got close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs, “You take forever to get up. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were still a human.”

Harry and Y/N like being around each other maybe too much

part 1

part 2

part 3

iv.

Y/N wondered how many vampires she’d seen in her lifetime.

Unlike the stories and movies, they didn’t lurk in the night and meld into the shadows all of the time. Their skin was pale, but no more pale than someone living in the mountains with very little sun. Their eyes weren’t red, or golden brown, or pools of black – they were just normal irises, no different than humans, the color encrypted in their DNA from conception. They were gorgeous, sometimes eerily so, but not in a way that you could easily group them by their features. It was comparable to being backstage on a runway – the people surrounding you were models, you knew that, and they were all beautiful in their own way with their own unique features. The difference is that instead of only finding them pretty in passing, it’s mesmerizing, almost hard to fathom, alluring in an almost unignorable way.

But Y/N can’t remember ever being out in public and seeing a vampire, even if she didn’t know what they were called at the time. Clearly she didn’t, if one was able to ask her on a date and she’d just presumed she’d lucked out with an attractive man who didn’t mind dating below his league. Otherwise, they were masters of camouflage, or Y/N was just less observant than she thought.

Because right now, even to the untrained eye, Y/N is almost positive that she looks like a vampire. Or at least that something is off with her. It’s in the way her posture is almost too correct, ramrod straight like someone straightened out her back and put her in a brace to keep her unmoving. Her chest did not rise and fall with each breath – not because the need to use her lungs had not been completely eradicated yet, but for the fact she’s taking a ton of shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid smelling anything, or anyone. The way she holds her fork looks weird to her – she hadn’t held a fork in so long it was an unfamiliar weight between her fingers. She gave terse replies to questions, and could barely hold a conversation longer than small talk.

To anyone looking or interacting with her, they must think she’d grown up in a basement and just recently ventured out into the world. To Harry, who sits across from her with an amused look dancing across his features, he knew she was just attempting to reacclimate into society.

They had been out before, but normally that was at night, or early during cloudy weekdays when most of the city population is stuck in their stuffy office buildings. When the amount of humans is sparse and Y/N could amble away if being around them became too much. She’d never been forced to sit among them for longer than a couple minutes at a time, maybe waiting in a long line, or patiently off to the side when a human woman was interested in the same earrings that she was.

That had been her toeing the water; Harry held her hand at the edge of a dock while she dipped her feet into the pool of being a productive member of society again. She would have to return to work at some point, and she would need to be able to attend social events or see her family, or her friends back home without wanting to eat them. Harry was surrounded by humans all day nearly every day and he hasn’t lashed out and ended up in a tabloid for sinking his teeth into a designer. It was possible, though it would take time, and a lot of practice – at some point she would be able to integrate seamlessly back into the human world.

At some point – right now, it was fucking hard.

Harry took her out for lunch, at a small deli a couple blocks from his flat. It was a day when the sky was heavy with clouds and would be for the majority of the afternoon, so they were able to venture out with no fear that Y/N would get all rashy again. All of Y/N’s fear lay within being in closed quarters with humans and pretending that the scent of their blood doesn’t affect her in the slightest. Or that the leaves of the salad she was stuffing into her mouth tasted more than just bland, rubbery nothing to a palate now keen on something metallic and sweet. And in that fear, and her overexerting her effort trying to look normal, she thinks she’s making herself look uncanny, unapproachable, and too much like she doesn’t belong. Like someone clipped her out of a comic book and pasted her in The Very Hungry Caterpillar.

“Relax your shoulders,” Harry spoke from across the table, having already eaten half his sandwich, tucking the straw of his soda at the corner of his lips and sipping, “It looks like I just brought you out of a boarding school.”

“Shut up.” Y/N had been saying that a lot to him today because it was two simple words that didn’t require as much effort as trying not to eat someone.

Harry smiled, all too relaxed for what Y/N would think are pretty serious circumstances but she guesses he’s been through this so often he isn’t worried about a thing. Harry never seemed worried when they did something new, always promising her that he would know if she was going to do something stupid, because he knows her. And if the need to subdue her were to arise, then he could do so easily, or so he tells her every time she’s stressed about it.

“You had plenty to eat before we came,” he murmured, voice just a touch lower, his brows raising slightly, “Even if you take a small little breath through your nose, you won’t feel like you need to do anything.”

It’s difficult to talk inconspicuously about it, in case someone nosy was listening into their conversation (because Y/N is fucking nosy, so she knows someone else is bound to match her), but Harry does it easily. Y/N did eat a considerable amount before they did this, from the baggies, and even a little treat from Harry just before they’d left the flat. She was full, blood-drunk, and hazy up to the point that they were about to walk inside the shop and she’d worked herself up.

“Mind over matter,” Harry slid his leg to her and locked their ankles together – he was resting his chin and cheek in his palm, watching her carefully, drinking her in, “Just take a small little breath through your nose, hm? You’ll see it’s not as bad as you think.”

Y/N blinks at him, gripping her fork a little too hard, and she feels the stainless steel give beneath her grip, “I – okay,” she nodded, slow, steady – the whole point of this excursion was to start working on being able to smell humans without wanting to desperately sink her teeth into them. Before she could start utilizing feeders, she needed to be completely in control of how her body responds and reacts to stimuli like this. At least that’s what Harry tells her, and she’s inclined to believe him since there isn’t anyone to bounce off of his ideas anymore. She isn’t sure if they’re still on the pathway he used for all the new vampires he mentored or if he’d toggled it based on their situation. She could message Christopher and Naomi about it but every time she messages them, her heart yearns and aches in her chest.

“You’ll stop me if anything happens?” She knows he will, but she feels better when he’s all cocky and sure of himself. One of them needed complete faith in the situation, and it usually was Harry.

Harry, who had been treating her all soft and tender lately. His words could still be harsh and he rolls his eyes and rumples his lips at her when she says something he thinks is stupid, and he’s patient, but even that patience runs out relatively quickly – but every interaction has a much softer edge to it. With every harsh critique of her technique or skill, (“How many times are you going to listen to the neighbor’s conversation and not me outside, downstairs, when you’re on the balcony? It shouldn’t matter how many flights up you are, this is baby stuff we’re trying to accomplish now!”) there is a gentle caress of her skin. His fingers will dance along her wrist, and he’ll slide his fingers between the slots of hers, and squeeze, before murmuring, “Let’s try again.”

They are much closer now – Y/N doesn’t know if they’re dating, or if vampires even date, but she knows that Harry treats her like they might be. Harry pushes his nose into her neck and breathes in deeply like she’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. He entertains her musings about code and work despite not having a clue what she’s talking about or saying. At the end of the night (early in the morning) when she is thinking about lying down, Harry offers his room to her, his bed.

“You can always sleep in here,” he’d told her, “Even if I’m not here, yeah? Just don’t stain the sheets or anything, because to keep them this pristine even with a kitten has been hell.”

Shit, he’s even referred to Leaf as their baby a couple of times, whereas previously he’s only called her his own. “What are you doing to my baby?” Is what he would say before when Leaf is playing with one of the many feathered string toys that Harry bought her and Y/N accidentally makes her jump right into the wall. Now it’s things like, “Our baby is so happy,” when she comes up to them on the sofa, purring and kneading at Y/N’s thighs before snuggling in her lap and falling asleep.

Things with him were soft. This certainly felt like a relationship, sometimes, but Y/N knew better than to get ahead of herself. Last time she did that she ran away from her hometown and then got bitten by a fucking vampire, so it was better to just take things a step at a time.

“What, you think I’m g’na let you eat someone and make me look bad?” He speaks low enough that only she could hear, helped by the loud chatter of voices around them, and stretches one arm across the table, looping his fingers around her forearm, and dragging the blunt tip of his nail along her skin, “Of course I’ll stop you, dummy.”

Y/N shivers but feels safe; he’s got a leg wrapped around hers, and a hand on her. If she tried to move, he would stop her immediately. Harry doesn’t say aloud that that’s what he’s doing, but they both know it makes her feel better when he’s got his hands on her in some way. She’d told him as much in the past when she’d looped her arm in the gap between his and his body when they first went into the grocery store.

“Hm, is this a ploy to make me touch you in public? You’re a filthy exhibitionist.” He’d teased her at the time, but now he keeps his hand on her when they’re out. An arm wrapped around her shoulder, a hand at the nape of her neck, his fingers looped around her wrist.

She lets herself breathe in, just a little bit, a tiny inhale through her nose. The scents weren’t overwhelming like she’d thought – there’s plenty to sift through, it wasn’t just an onslaught of the blood pumping through the veins surrounding them. Fresh bread, the fabric softener on people’s clothes, the cleaner used to wipe down tables when they were emptied – she smelled all of that too. All a mix, like when she was a human, only she could smell and separate them just a note better than she could before. And the blood – she couldn’t smell blood before, but with a belly full, it wasn’t as hard. It still made her mouth water, and there was an itch beneath her skin that wanted to be plucked at, but nothing she couldn’t handle.

Harry drags his nails back and forth on her forearm lazily, “See?” His relaxed posture stays, leaning on his palm, “You’re not a monster, are you, baby?”

She swallowed thickly, shaking her head, “No, I’m not,” she cleared her throat a little, “We need to – um – we need to get Leaf chicken treats, she likes those best.” Y/N wanted to practice being normal, talking about normal things, and thinking about something else than how she’s trying not to breathe in too deeply. She didn’t necessarily explain this to Harry beforehand but he doesn’t seem confused either, just goes along with it.

“Really? I kind of thought she liked the shrimp ones better.”

Y/N focuses more on Harry’s scent – he smells good. He always smells so good, that whenever she does sleep in his bed, she dips her nose into the blankets and stuffs her face into the pillows (obviously when he’s not there, she would never live that down). If she could shove her nose in the base of his throat and not stuff her teeth into his neck then she would do it all of the time. Harry does it to her, unprovoked and unannounced, burrowing the cold tip of his nose against her carotid. She used to squirm, her ear meeting her shoulder as she pulled away from him, but now she’s gotten used to it – now, she almost expects it when he comes home from work, and if he doesn’t, she’s a little disappointed.

It’s easy to forget why she’s at Harry’s in the first place if she’s just focusing on her and Harry’s dynamic. It’s also easy to forget that she would eventually face the music when she has to confront her feelings – Niall. There was a heavy weight on her shoulders like she wore a helmet of cast iron everywhere she went; sometimes she would forget about it, it’d been so long that it was easy to let it slip her mind, but then her shoulders would feel the pressure of it periodically.

Like when you wear glasses for the first time. At first, it is all you can think about, how it rests on the bridge of your nose, the way the frames outline your field of view. But a couple of hours in they’re merely an extension of you, you forget they’re on your face until you reach up to rub your eye and something is in the way.

The helmet was heavy, the look in Niall’s eyes as he told her, the cold feeling that had flushed through her veins when he’d admitted it. She wondered if it felt like his own helmet had been lifted, the weight of his guilt eased by the admission. Did he know he was going to transfer it to her? Take the helmet off and plop it onto her head?

Her heart was torn in two. Y/N wanted to hate him for it, she really did – want to cuss him out, scratch him, and spit on him – how did vampires fight? Did they bite each other? Do they punch each other? Kick, slap? Was it still below the belt to kick him in the balls or was that an appropriate fighting tactic? Harry had never taught her how to fight – she thought maybe some sort of combat training would be important down the line, but vampires don’t usually do that. Movies and books make it seem like it was a constant battle, always something going on that they needed to defeat. Vampires typically coexist peacefully, is the thing, and their only true threat are hunters but it’s often better to avoid them or flee the situation than to fight, at least when you’re new. As long as she doesn’t act recklessly then she wouldn’t have to worry.

And in the same breath that she hated him, she owed him her life. It was a new one – a flawed one, no more flawed than her old life, but still a new life. She would have to change how she lives, eats, exists, and it’s scary – it’s so scary! But she was alive. She was still walking around, she could still work toward goals she’d set for herself, and she could find a place for herself in this world instead of bleeding out in an alley, still feeling lost and alone.

Would she have walked away from someone in need how she expected Niall to? If she’d stumbled upon the same scene, would she have been able to ignore it? She couldn’t even ignore a fucking kitten meowing! So it was hard – her feelings were difficult to work through and that was only worsened by her not seeing him. Playing house at Harry’s flat and ignoring what happened.

“Where’d you go?” Harry pulls her out of her reverie, and she realizes she’d been digging her fingers into the croissant she was holding, her eyes dazed. He drags his fingers along her skin again, tenderly, gently, “Hmm? Where’d my girl go?”

Y/N feels warm and bubbly and allows herself to revel in the giddiness that comes with Harry treating her like something special. If there was one single benefit from this whole mess, it would be Harry – experiencing this homely side of him. Whether it be the connection through their blood, or their time spent together, she felt at complete, and total ease in Harry’s presence. If she was starting to spiral, he pulled her out of it just as quickly.

“Sorry,” she murmured, swallowing, ripping a piece of the flaky pastry and laying it on her tongue – it tasted like nothing, chalky and bland, “I. . .need to figure things out with Niall soon. I can’t keep burdening you.”

“You’re no burden,” he answered without a second thought, “Not even a little bit, but I understand needing to sort things out for your peace of mind.” He reaches forward, thumbing at the apple of her cheek, and pinching playfully, “But you don’t need to leave just for that, hm? You’re no burden to me.”

Y/N rests on the palm of his cheek, sighing, and the smell of all the other humans in the place pales in comparison to Harry, “Mm,” she nuzzles – it’s embarrassing, how easy she is for him, but he doesn’t tease her like he probably could, “I just. . .I think, how I’m seeing it, is I would have done the same.” She explained, “If I’d seen someone, I would have done the same, you know?” Her gaze flickered toward him, “Would you?”

“I have,” he shrugged, “You know, it’s something that you never really know what you’ll do at the moment but when it’s presented in front of you – that’s when you’ll know. You act off instinct,” he squeezes her shoulder, slipping down to her bicep, “Just how you ran to go save Leaf with no concern of the sun. This isn’t me trying to sway you either,” he shook his head, “If you decided you fucking hated him and never wanted to see him again, I would endorse it. If you decide that you’ll forgive him, then I’ll accept that – whatever you want to do.”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah,” she ripped another piece of croissant, “Yeah, okay.”

. . .

Despite coming to terms with what she wanted to do, it still took her a week to gain the courage to see him. Harry doesn’t push the issue, merely enjoys his time with her and Leaf until she tells him she is ready. Honestly, there were a couple of times when Y/N wondered if she should just start ignoring it again and live life peacefully with Harry, or as peacefully as she could. But still, it weighed on her, like a Niall-shaped force that stretched himself over her and smothered her in her sleep. She had dreams of confronting him, some heartwarming and with a good outcome, some horrible that left her with tears bearding her eyes.

She needed to do it. If she did, then she could better focus on whatever the hell is going on between her and Harry. And being a vampire. . .big, important things like that.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand.

She laid her hands on his thighs, “I need to do it today,” she told him, and she didn’t have to be descriptive for Harry to know what she was talking about, “It’s gotta be today or I won’t.”

His gaze softened, the pale skin of his face smoothed over into something contemplative and understanding. There’s a soft sound that pulls from his throat, and his legs squeeze around her as he nods, “Okay,” he answered easily, “Do you want to ambush him or should I give him a heads up?”

“Will he run away if he knows I’m coming?”

Harry pursed his lips in thought, “You know, Niall isn’t one to run away,” he started, “But he also isn’t one to admit when he’s in the wrong either, and he’s done that, so I reckon some of the things I knew about him fundamentally might be wrong. He may flee from guilt alone or he’ll respect you enough to want to hear what you have to say.”

“Then you can let him know,” she took Leaf, scratching the soft, short furs beneath her chin, “If this is a friendship worth salvaging, then he’ll wait for me.”

The drive, which typically felt like an hour-long adventure out to the secluded space in which Mitch’s house resided, felt far quicker than it ever had before. Y/N thought it was because this time, she actually wanted it to go by slowly so that she had the chance to collect her thoughts and plan out exactly what she was going to say, and how she was going to say it. She needed the full forty-ish minutes (accounting rush hour) to develop her script, but Harry must be pressing the gas pedal right down to the floorboards because they zip through the roads in record time.

There’s a hazy, orange glow casting over the trees while the sun sank beyond the horizon, the other half of the sky blotching the inky black sky of a winter night. She wondered if there would be stars later on – there hadn’t been for the last couple of days because of clouds heavy with snow, that’s now freckling the earth and freezing up the soil. Y/N missed them – she feels like she hasn’t seen them in a while.

They roll up in front of the house, and Y/N thinks all of three seconds go by before a pouting Naomi rips the passenger door open, “Shame on Harry for keeping you all to himself,” she whined, and she unbuckling Y/N before Y/N could even gather her bearings, pulling her out of the car and into her arms. Naomi looks a bit frail but she’s got the strength of someone who’s prepared for war, and she gives Y/N a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve missed you!”

Y/N laughed lightly, squeezing her arms out from where they’d been trapped between their bodies so she could reciprocate the show of affection, “I missed you too,” she replied.

“Oi,” he grumbled, “I wasn’t keeping her to myself, I gave her a haven in a rough time.”

“You never let any of us come over besides Christopher!”

Harry crossed his arms, after pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, “Why would I want you heathens in my flat? The lot of you would trash the place or steal from me.”

“You’re just no good at sharing, you –”

Their voices fade into the background as Y/N leaves them to bicker, a tiny quirk at her lips like the muscles in her face want to smile but are thinking better than to. It was nice, sort of, to be back; to smell all the familiar scents, like she was returning home. This felt more like home than her flat did now, just from the sheer amount of time she’d spent here. She walked the familiar map from the front door, to her room, and nearly made a pitstop to give herself more time but muscled through the desire to. Y/N took the four more steps she needed to before knocking on Niall’s door – she could smell him in there.

“Come in.” His voice sounds stiff, and when she opens the door, the position he’s sitting in matches it. He must have heard her coming because he isn’t in the lax state he normally is – his legs are off the end of the mattress, feet firm on the floor. He sits straight, his face serious, stern. She’s so used to the nonchalant way he goes about that this is the most uncanny and makes her feel like an agent sent to question him, or a judge to sentence him. Y/N hated that, she doesn’t want it to be like that – she wants it to be normal between them. Or, normal-ish, at least.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her cat paw chair sitting at the foot of his bed. Niall followed her gaze and answered before she could even question it, “I – um – promise I wasn’t stealing that,” he replied, “I missed. . .you know – having it in here made me feel a little better. Which I know, I don’t deserve to feel good about what happened.”

Y/N ignored him, closed the door behind her, and then plopped down in the chair, resting her back on the pink, plush toe beans, “Get on the floor,” she ordered, patting the empty spot in front of her with her foot, “Please stop sitting so straight, it’s freaking me out.”

Niall is quick to crawl down on the floor in front of her, he relaxes his shoulders so they slump just a little, and he kicks his left leg out how he usually did when he was sprawled out on the floor of her room and they were talking. It brings some normalcy to the situation that Y/N desperately needs. She bites the inside of her bottom lip for a second before giving an unneeded clear of her throat (it was just a habit at this point, she wondered how long it would take for it to break).

“I’m just gonna come right out with it because I don’t want to beat around the bush, and if I do, I’ll just talk myself in circles until I don’t make any sense,” she started, “At first I was so mad at you I could have slapped you and spit on you and called you names. I was pretty sure that I never wanted to see you again and that I would be fine if you were completely wiped from my life,” he grimaces at the description but does nothing to refute it, “But you couldn’t have been wiped from my life, if I wasn’t living to begin with, which – I know, it gets a little confusing and convoluted. This life I have now is. . .odd, and different, and I’m not human anymore, and maybe by all technicalities I’m not alive, but I feel like I am.” She runs her thumbnail along the inside of her other palm, following the lines in them she’s had since birth, “I feel the world around me, and I can love, and I can talk, and laugh, and work, and cry. I can do all the things that I did before and then some, so even if it is different. . .I’m still alive. And I wouldn’t be had it not been for you.”

Niall is following along, motionless, soaking in every word, “I’m more upset that you kept it from me. It would have just been nice to know, right? What exactly had happened that night, it’d been plaguing my mind and you would ask every so often, and now I’m realizing it was less from a place of care and more you covering your tail.” She shrugged her shoulders when Niall’s face scrunched with shame, “But I can’t sit here and act like I would do something different. I don’t know what I would do, in a situation like that – I think, if I came across someone in my position, then I would have changed them too. I don’t really know how at this point, but I would have tried to figure it out. And I would have been scared, afterward, I don’t know if I would have told anyone either. But I thought we were close enough. . .at least a month in, I feel like you could have told me,” she sighed, “That’s what makes me angriest. I thought we were friends but you were just being nice to me because you felt bad.”

“That’s not true.” It was the first time he’d uttered a word since she began, “You – maybe at the start, I was a little more protective of you because I felt bad, but the rest of it – I truly felt friendship with you. Not all of it was a lie,” he shook his head, “I wanted to tell you, I did, but it never seemed like an opportune time to. And the one chance I did get, I chickened out. But I get it, if – if you need to be angry, be angry, I honestly wish you would just slap me or hit me or something, so it felt like I was getting punished for it.”

“I wanted to, believe me, but Harry was pretty convinced that you were punishing yourself enough for it. Listen, what I’m saying is,” she crawled off the cat paw, and took his hands in her own – they were smooth and ice cold – he probably hasn’t been eating well, “My feelings are very conflicted and confusing, and I don’t know if I forgive you entirely, but forgiveness isn’t out of the question. Do you get what I mean?” Niall hums his assent, “I know things can’t go back to the way they were entirely, but I’d like it if we could get somewhere close to it. And – and if you think about it, we’ll probably be around for decades, won’t we? I’m bound to get over it eventually.”

Niall and Y/N don’t really hug – Naomi is the touchy-feely type, and Y/N can be when she wants to be, but Niall is much more reserved with his affections. So that’s why she is tentative and a little hesitant in embracing him, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, but she’s pleasantly surprised to feel him hug her back tightly, “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and his words vibrated through her throat, “I’m so sorry, thank you for even coming back to talk to me. I thought surely with Harry at your side, you would’ve hated my guts.”

“You would be surprised by this, but Harry went to bat for you pretty hard,” she peeled back just a little bit, “I mean, he didn’t try to change my opinion but his of you never faltered.”

Niall frowned, “Ugh, it’s so hard to keep up with hating him sometimes,” Y/N laughed, “Seriously, he’ll be the worst prick alive and then he does something unreasonably kind and it’s like. . .either be a dick, or be nice, I hate the mix-up.” He gently let his arms slip away from her but he remained close, “Speaking of, I’ve been eavesdropping on him and Mitch – they never hear me coming so I can always get away with knowing shite I shouldn’t – has he told you yet? About the whole blood thing?”

Y/N shook her head, and part of her was worried that Niall would save it for Harry to tell her, but she forgot that Niall is Niall, and through and through, he loved causing trouble for Harry at any given notice, “After Mitch’s initial displeasure that he’d been keeping it from him, he said there was something called ‘fated pairs’ or something like that. Your bodies call out to each other on a molecular level, something that was – predetermined the day you were both born. There was a lot of vampiric folklore nonsense that he spouted off, but he seemed pretty convinced. I don’t know why it affects you both in the way that it would make you horny, but, yeah. He said that it would’ve been the same if you were human – even if you were both humans, actually. That it was like a soul bond.”

It was a lot to take in; Y/N is relieved of one stress and then immediately another is placed on top of her. Was it stress though? She doesn’t feel stressed at the thought of them being bonded together by their souls – she doesn’t mind that – but she is stressed that maybe he minded that. Because as far as Harry was concerned, there was no rhyme or reason for their reaction to one another’s blood. Y/N hadn’t even known he’d spoken to Mitch about it, and so to find out he has and he didn’t even express the findings to her. . .worries her, a bit. Did he not like it? Was the thought of being tied to her horrible? But if it was then he wouldn’t have been so doting and cuddly these last few weeks, right?

“You look stressed,” he noted, “I would be too if I was bonded to that fucker, so I understand.”

Breathlessly, she laughs again, “He’s not so bad.”

. . .

Harry gets pretty clingy when Y/N goes back.

Though he’d promised that she wasn’t a bother, she still felt guilty to be inhabiting his home when he was at work. She’d been hearing him postpone different trips too, a couple of days in Italy, a fashion show in France – things that he always went to before, and she had a feeling it was because he didn’t want to leave her alone. It was sweet, but it made her feel guilty, so she decided it was okay to go back for a little while and reacclimate to the house.

It wasn’t so bad – going from Harry’s modern, high-tech flat to Mitch’s Victorian-style mansion was different but it isn’t horrible. Y/N liked being surrounded by people when Harry was at work or attending some smarmy event, instead of being alone. The only downside was there was a little Leaf-shaped hollow in her heart, but Harry describes shared custody and drops her off with Y/N when he knows he’s going to be out all day or if he does have to leave for one of those week-long trips.

The others act like she never left. She goes to the movie nights and nobody mentions what happened. Christopher gives her a big, long hug when he sees that she’s returned, then promptly warms her two mugs of “the sweetest blood” as a welcome home present. Naomi comes to inhabit Y/N’s bed and talks about pop culture and how Samuel is fucking someone who isn’t Theodore so that had been a lot of drama while she was away. Delphine starts to visit her room for Leaf – apparently, she’d grown up with a lot of barn cats, so she was very fond of them, and they find their shared love for animals as a link to start speaking more comfortably with each other. And wherever Delphine was, Saskia was close behind. Her past with cats was checkered because she had an allergy to them before, but being a vampire meant eradicating all allergies, so she hesitantly gave Leaf a pet or two.

Leaf, all tiny and soft, loves the extra attention.

Niall still comes to her room but not without being invited first. Y/N thinks eventually this will change, but it seems like he doesn’t want to smother her with his presence, though Y/N wouldn’t find it smothering at all. He’s still hesitant, and she gets it – Y/N liked that he respected her enough to let her decide if she was in the right headspace to see him that day or not.

The only person who takes it hard and acts like it is the worst thing in the world is Harry. He never goes three days without coming to see her, and when he isn’t with her, he’s messaging her and calling her, asking if she wants to FaceTime in between flights. When he does come, he poses a strict, “Nobody bothers us” rule where he threatens to move her dresser in front of the door to ward off “unwanted” intruders (though they could all probably move the dresser anyway, they’re very strong). He crawled into her bed and pulled her into his body, dragging the blankets over them, “You smell too much like the others,” he’d grumble, resting his chin on the top of her head, “Hate it.”

“You’re silly,” she’d respond but soaked in the snuggling happily — it used to be something they merely indulged in while she was asleep; before, Harry would only ever kind of curl around her or pet her or hold her when she was all blood drunk and full, seconds from slumber. Now he’s much more open and willing to do it whenever – when they were watching the telly, when they were on the ground and Y/N was painting her nails (“I should sit behind you, yeah? You can sit between my legs, and when you’re done with one hand, I’ll blow on your fingers to dry them,”) if they were outside on the deck, practicing whatever Harry had come up with for the day.He crowds her space like he was made to. If Harry was there, they’re glued at the hip, and that was just normal now.

Y/N wondered if he would ever bring up the whole bond thing, but he seemed content not to. Still, it didn’t seem to deter him from letting her snack on his blood, which she sure only furthers the whole thing. So maybe he wasn’t concerned with it – maybe he was just seeing where it went. Y/N isn’t sure, but she’s usually good at ignoring things. If the other party didn’t want to talk about it then she wouldn’t either, it was never in her nature to press for answers.

. . .when she was a human, at least. Being a vampire hasn’t changed her at a fundamental level, she doesn’t believe, but it has given her a new outlook on life, and a different perspective on some things. It was better to ask and get an answer that she didn’t want rather than continue not knowing something for sure. If she’d lived by that rule in the past it would have probably saved her a lot of trouble.

So Y/N asks him outright, Leaf curled in her lap in a tiny furry heap, and Harry with his arms curled around Y/N’s body protectively. Nobody else was in the den – they were either in their rooms or out and about (with a strict curfew now, because of the whole thing between her and Niall – Mitch blamed himself for giving them a little too much freedom being newly presented). Harry suggested they utilize the tv then, instead of trying to watch it on her laptop screen. Harry tells her they should be at his flat, but since he was supposed to go three hours away for a photoshoot tomorrow, he didn’t want to leave her alone (it turns out he’d been postponing more than she had initially thought so now he was playing catch up – something about Spring deadlines and all of that).

The screen clears as the next episode of the show they’re watching loads up, and maybe it isn’t the best timing or the best place to do it, but she has to ask before she loses her nerve.

“Are we a. . .fated pair? Is that what it’s called?”

She feels Harry stiffen behind her, his hold around her arms tightening only slightly as he processes what she’d just inquired. There aren’t a lot of things that could stun Harry, as long as he’s been around he normally has a response to anything and everything within a couple of seconds – but he sits with this for a little longer. His fingers, where they’d rested on her waist, began to play with the fabric of her shirt, plucking at the hem and fiddling with the stitches. The tension in the air is palpable, but it isn’t a horrible tension. Not something she wanted to run away from, at least.

“Niall,” Harry finally muttered, like he’d been spending half of the time he was silent, trying to figure out how Y/N would have heard that, “That fucker is too good at masking his presence.”

“Harry –”

“I know,” he exhales, and Y/N thinks it’s funny that he does things like this not because he’s releasing a breath, but to express how he’s feeling. He nudges the side of her head with his own and dips his nose into the curve of her throat, his favorite spot, “With you at my flat, and with how you’d been eating from me still, the – how I felt for you was becoming concerning and a little obsessive. Not in like an obsessive “I’m going to kill her so nobody else can have her” way, more like a “I want to be near her and I’m forgoing responsibilities to spend time with her” kind of way. I don’t do that, for people, I’m not. . .so giving with my time, which makes me sound like a dick, but it’s the truth. I have my time and they have theirs, even if it’s someone that I’m interested in,” he slides his fingers beneath her shirt’s fabric, his nails tracing circles into her skin, “But with you, I just. . .wanted to be around you. To be with you makes me feel calm; it soothes me like putting ice on a sprain. And for you to drink from my vein and our bodies react so intensely to it. . .well, it had to be something.”

“I was glad to ignore it and just continue enjoying myself with you, but I was getting curious. And I knew you and Niall would make up soon, and you’re so concerned about being a burden all of the time, I knew you wouldn’t take me up on my offer to stay with me. This meant I was going to be coming around her, and being way more possessive and clingy than I ever have before and Mitch always knows what’s going on in the house. He would ask me about it eventually, so I just beat him to it.” He lifted his head, and his words were less muffled when he coaxes her to lean back against his chest more, “He went into the most intricate, convoluted discussion about molecules, and vampiric folklore, and I’ll be honest most of it went right over my fucking head, except for him saying that we were bound together by our souls. That whether we had met like this, or centuries ago in my village, while I was running from war, or had I just been some random UNI student sitting beside you in class – we would always have this kind of connection. It’s rare,” he squeezes her hips, “It’s a rare thing, a really rare thing, and it used to happen more often back in the 1600s but that doesn’t mean it never happens now.”

Y/N cranes her neck to face him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her brows pinched toward the center, and Harry reached out, using his thumb to press at the crinkle in her skin and smooth it out.

“I wanted to, but – I don’t know. I kind of wanted you to conclude for yourself, if you liked me or not. I didn’t want it to feel forced because you knew about this. Other than my blood making you a filthy, horny little thing, I don’t know exactly what your feelings are for me. And I know – you told me you feel whole after you drink from me, but again, outside of that – outside of the blood, I don’t know how you feel.”

Y/N thinks, that if she’d eaten recently, blood would be roaring in her ears and her heart would be thudding something fierce in her chest. It was one thing to have Niall tell her on a whim, it was another thing for Harry to admit it to her, all shy, avoiding her gaze and pressing tight and close to her body. It was another thing to hear him feel insecure about not knowing how she felt about him.

Because for Y/N, she’d thought she’d been incredibly obvious. She wanted to be around him always, she recognized his scent out of everyone anywhere, she felt safe when his hands were on her in some way, or even when he was just nearby. Even when he was short with her, or grumpy, Y/N had felt endlessly at ease. After what happened at the club, he was the only person she wanted to be around. The way her heart lights up when he calls her sweet names, or when she sees him for the first time in a while. How her whole mind swam at the prospect of him rather hurting his hands than letting anyone else see her vulnerable when she’d been in the sun. No matter when he lost his patience, or when he seemed upset, or even when he swore up and down that he shouldn’t be a mentor – he was supportive, tender, and made her head feel melty and her insides gossamer soft.

“I have plenty of reason to like you, outside of some bond,” she finally replied, wiggling in his arms to face him again – Leaf got up, stumbled out of her lap, then stretched with a silent yawn, “And it wasn’t just after eating. Just being with you makes me feel. . .complete, just as I said before. I thought it was just the blood, but when you leave for work and we’re separated, there’s a – it’s noticeable, the gape I feel in your absence.” Y/N curled her fingers up in his shirt, “I mean, how I feel for you, surpasses how I ever felt for Daniel, my old friend. As dramatic as it is, I’d thought I would never be able to love again –”

“Oh, you humans and your theatrics,” he murmured with a laugh and Y/N smiled shyly, looking away.

“-- but the way I’ve felt about you lately, I just don’t think whatever puppy love crush I had on him scratches the surface. Sorry, I wasn’t clear about it. I’d been so focused on trying to figure out my place in this world again and how to live life like this, that I hadn’t given myself a chance to sit and sort through my emotions. But they’re there – they’re real and scary.”

Harry kisses her – she wasn’t expecting it, but she’d completely turned around in his lap by then so at least the angle wasn’t horrible. His lips are soft, and without the preface of something lewd, it is saccharine and chaste. Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into him, practically molding herself into the shape of his body. It was good – Harry’s been treating her delicately for a while now, but this was different. Like he was kissing something important to him. Something that he wanted to handle with softhearted gloves.

When they part, Harry kisses the corner of her mouth, then her right cheek, her temple, over her forehead, and down the other side of her face. They’re feather-light and ticklish but his arms cage her in so she couldn’t wiggle away, helpless but to giggle. Once he finishes, he hums low and their eyes meet.

“I’ll be keeping you, so get used to this.” He admitted, and if he’d eaten recently, then his cheeks would have flushed pink the way they do anytime he’s sentimental.

Y/N nodded and hid herself in his chest.

She didn’t mind that at all.

. . .

Harry couldn’t wait to see her.

He used to take great pleasure in his week to two-week-long trips out of the country for work, whether he was going to Dubai, Milan, Paris, or other places like it. Harry would gorge on international feeders and sex and all the adoration from people who question his otherworldly beauty and get lost in his sharp gaze. It was nice to be sought after, admired, to get his fill of all the blood he wanted. He thought it was a fair trade, for all those years ago, when he’d been scrawny and worthless to everyone.

However, now? He just can’t wait to get home. Without the sex and the gorging, there actually wasn’t a whole lot to do in any of those spots that he hadn’t done thousands and thousands of times before. It was work, strictly work, and there was no sort of pleasure, apart from the gratification of seeing one of his looks trek down the runway. Besides that, there was only one person he wanted to sleep with now, one person he wanted to be adored by, and only one person he wished to get lost in his gaze.

And she was thousands of kilometers away from him, probably coding some program that made no sense to his brain, in his sweatshirt that he made her promise to wear and those horrific (and endearingly cute) slippers shaped like cats that she picked up from the store in honor of Leaf (who liked to chew on them when Y/N wiggled her toes). Even on the plane ride back home, he wondered how he could make it quicker – if there was a way to travel even faster than a plane. He supposes he could run, his legs are quite fast, but if someone spotted him going a little too fast to be human, then that would be a whole other list of shit to deal with instead of just tucking himself into Y/N’s side.

So as soon as he was finished up, the models had gone home, he’d given his statement for editorials, and he’d shared one glass of wine with a designer he really couldn’t be arsed to learn the name of (he’d drank with types like Chanel and Dior in the past, so the glitz and glamor of it now are easily lost on him) – Harry was on a plane and headed home. He used the in-flight wifi to watch a movie Y/N had suggested to him, but he was barely paying attention. How could he, when he was so excited to get home to her?

It was crazy to think this was where their relationship had ended up. She used to be nothing but an obnoxious little thorn in his side and now all he wants to do is smother her with affection and give her his blood. Y/N was so important to him, it made his heart feel heavy and full for the first time in. . .well, he isn’t sure it’s ever felt this heavy and full before. The weight in his chest is unfamiliar, and at first, it had been unwelcomed, but he likes it now. It’s as if she’d curled her body around it and took residence there. She’s always with him, in that sense of it.

The others had gotten used to it far quicker than he’d imagined they would. He expected more teasing as well, but they all like Y/N a lot, so he guesses to tease him is to tease her indirectly and they don’t want to. The most he gets is scolded that he isn’t good at sharing, and why should he be? Harry feels like he’d spent centuries waiting for her, now that he has her – doesn’t he deserve to be a little selfish? Especially after a week of not seeing her, Harry just wants her all to himself. That’s why he suggested that she come to his flat the first day he’s back, so they could be alone.

So he’s more than happy, after the flight, after getting his shit from baggage claim and finding his car in the mass of other vehicles parked for overnight trips, and the 30-minute long drive from the airport to his flat – to see her just as he’d envisioned her. Only with a few additions; she wore the sweatshirt, and she had on these little shorts that were filthy (but she swore up and down she wore them because they were comfortable and not to taunt him with how little it would take before her bum was out), but tucked under her thigh was Leaf’s feather toy. Whenever Y/N was working, Leaf could go from sleeping peacefully at her side to the zoomies in all of three seconds, so this was her way of keeping her preoccupied – the stick was placed just precisely so that the feather and the string hung off the side of the couch for Leaf to jump and pull at. Y/N has pretty decent thigh muscles so she’s able to keep it in place without letting it move around too much.

She has those horrible little booties on, but she’s wrapped up in the throw blanket that Harry usually has wrapped around him – not for warmth, of course, but the way soft fibers feel against his skin is nice. He knows Y/N is not using it for that purpose because it touches nowhere that her skin shows, besides a little bit of her face. Y/N has it so close to her so that she can smell him, and Harry is just. . .so endeared by that he could scream.

When he walked through the door, Y/N turned to face him with a big grin. She slid her computer out of her lap, and Leaf’s toy fell to the ground once she stood, carefully stepping over the kitten, and getting up on the other sofa so she could climb over it. She gets to him quicker this way, and her arms slink around his neck, and she holds him close, “Finally,” she murmured, “A week is too long.”

“You could always come with me.” He smiled into her hair, letting his eyes close – it was good to have her in his arms again, “I don’t think they’d mind a puppy backstage.”

Y/N peeled away from him, flicking him in the center of his chest, “Shut up,” she threw at him, but it held no real spite, and her eyes were dripping in mirth, “Should I dress myself then show up?”

“Oh, baby, please don’t – let me be the one to dress you.”

It was nice, that back and forth, and had Harry not felt so keyed up then he probably would have started a load of laundry, showered, gotten in more comfortable clothes and they could have just hung out for the night.

But Harry was keyed up – a week away from Y/N meant a week away from not only her beautiful brain, but her beautiful body as well, and he was missing the sounds she’d make when his fingers slid against her. How easy she was to rile up, the way she tasted on his tongue, how dripping wet she got from even just a little bit of Harry’s blood in her. It’s precisely why he’d eaten so much before leaving, and he’s sure she could tell he’d just eaten recently, with how warm his cheeks felt they must be rosy. And that flush on his pale skin is clear as day, especially how it slithers down his throat, and if he’s really worked up, it might splotch his chest.

“When’s the last time you ate, Sweetheart?” He inquired – the icy little tip of her nose was enough to tell him it had been a while.

“Mm, I had some earlier, when I woke up,” she explained, “But I got distracted with work, so I haven’t since.”

Normally, Harry might chide her for that, but he’s all too excited to offer his throat, “I have a treat for you then,” he placed his hands on her hips, walking her backward, “Get on the couch.”

Where Y/N used to start on the side of his body and eventually make her way into his lap while she ate, she just crawled into his lap now to cut out the unnecessary jostling around. The weight of her in his lap is familiar, nice, and something he didn’t realize that he missed until he was away from her. She stretches her thighs on either side of him and scoots in very close; Harry is already half hard, and he isn’t sure if he’d been like this since he saw her, or on the plane when he’d even just thought about her. Whatever it was and whenever it was, he was definitely already getting hard just from the anticipation of her teeth in his neck. It felt like young adulthood all over again, when it wasn’t “mind over matter”, and Harry couldn’t help but get hard in three seconds from one thought.

“I missed you,” she tells him, pressing her chest up against his, her nipples were already hard and Harry felt dizzy with the want burgeoning up from deep in his belly, “So much, and you were only gone for a week. It’s a little embarrassing.”

“I miss you when I leave you alone for an hour,” he slides his hand on the nape of her neck and brings her closer, “Isn’t embarrassing. I’m flattered that you like me enough to miss me, even. Now take what you need, baby, I ate enough to fill you up.”

The slide of her teeth into his skin never gets old, especially when it’s his throat. There’s a bite of pain, immediately soothed over by the euphoric feeling of it not only being a vampire bite, but a Y/N bite. The way she goes about it is still so tentative to start, and unsure, like she’s worried about hurting him – but the moment she tastes his blood on her tongue, all that vanishes. She moaned against his neck like she’d been starving for months and he’d finally come to save her, her fingers digging into his body wherever her hands lie. Harry can feel her inhibitions leave her, the way she gulps, drinks him down, and takes her fill how he wants her to.

It’s always after a minute that Y/N’s body starts to move out of tandem with her. She hates that she starts rutting against him like an overexcited puppy, but that doesn’t stop the way her hips twitch and push closer to him while she’s eating. Harry’s hand slid from her neck, to meet his other at her hips, holding her still as she rolled her hips into him greedily. “Mm, it feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Especially after not having it for so long,” Harry shuddered, closing his eyes as he melted into the feeling, “I bet your pussy is already soaked.”

Y/N whines, and he can only imagine how debauched the scene must look from an outsider's perspective. Her hands slip under his shirt, fingers tracing along his stomach and when the muscles in his abdomen tense up, his cock throbs to match. Harry’s fully hard now, and he thinks he’s already leaking, dripping into the inside of his trousers because he was always one to forgo underwear when it caused lines in his pants. Y/N lines herself up with him, tucking him into the folds because her pussy just swallows these shorts up, and rolls into him, “That’s it,” he whispered, “Such a good girl, you can have anything you want.”

The times she bites his throat aren’t always for pleasure. Harry still tries to prepare her for the first time she will meet with a feeder, so each time Y/N eats she gets better and better. She’s learned to stop when she’s full and to not overstuff herself just because it tastes good. She also has learned to read the queues of the other person, that she might have had too much – it’d be different for a human, but she can tell by the way Harry might start feeling even a degree less warm than he began as.

He isn’t sure what coaxes her to stop today. She pulled away from his neck and lulled her tongue over the little puncture wounds in his skin, before moving so she faced him. Y/N made a pretty sight with her hazy eyes and her mouth stained red. Before he could spend too much time admiring her, she fixes her lips against his, slips her tongue into his mouth, and oh fuck.

She’d kept some of his blood in her mouth, so it filled his own when she kissed him, and his eyes all but rolled up to the back of his head. Who had taught her something so filthy? His cock throbs so hard in his pants and he’s leaking so much precum he’s wondered if he’s cum already – he’s sure it’s sticky and webby beyond belief around the head of his cock, and Y/N isn’t helping the matter, she’s just making it worse.

Harry takes her by the chin, parts her lips, and makes sure they stay open. Without having to instruct her, she presses the tip of her tongue to her bottom lip, waiting patiently – normally Harry places a couple of fingers on her tongue for her to suck and bite at, so he presumes that’s what she was expecting. But Harry couldn’t help himself, and if Y/N was going to be filthy, then he was going to be filthier, so he encased her tongue and her bottom lip with his mouth and suckled at it. When Y/N mewls, he takes more of her in, sucking the taste of him off her tongue while he pries at her little shorts. He was in no mood for her to get off his lap to wiggle them down, so he tore them, shredding the fabric.

She makes a startled sound, mixed with a moan when Harry slips his tongue back into her mouth to kiss her properly again. Harry’s head spins when he backs away from her – they could kiss forever without needing to take a single breath (or they would be able to one day when Y/N really didn’t need to use her lungs anymore), but Harry wanted to look at her. Want to see her with lips bitten red and swollen, filled with blood that Harry kind of wants to knick with his tooth and drink from. He presses at her chest just a little so she stretches back, and he gathers the fabric at the bottom of her shirt in between his thumb and index finger, pressing it up her quivering belly.

Her pussy is puffy and swollen and soaking wet, he would’ve thought she’d been touching herself before he’d come home. He can’t tell if he wants to bury his face or his cock into it more, but another hard throb suggests he’d better do the latter or he would cum hard in his pants. He uses his fingers to spread her open, showing off the engorged bud of her clit, chuckling brightly when it pulses beneath his attention. Harry is unsure what drives him to sink his fingers lower, get three of them wet then return to her clit to slap it, but he does, and the payoff is Y/N trying to close her legs around him with the most wanton of sounds. He does it again, a little harder, and Y/N’s hand comes to grab his wrist, “I’ll cum,” she whines like that was supposed to deter him, “I’ll cum if you keep going.”

“Isn’t that the point?” He murmured, sliding his fingers through her juices and tucking them up inside of her, petting at her g-spot for a second before slipping them back out and licking her off his hand, “Want you to cum.”

“I wanna cum with you in me,” she sounded like she was pleading with him, and Harry had always been a sucker for pretty girls begging, “Please?”

Harry’s quick to work the button of his trousers open, pulling the zip and removing his cock from the oppressive confines of it. He’s harder than he’d even thought, but he was right to assume that he’d leaked so much precum it looked like he’d cum. The clear fluid oozes from the tip in a long, sticky line, filling up the dip of his hip bone. Y/N ogles him with awe-filled eyes, “Whoa,” she swallowed thickly, her fingers tracing up the underside from his balls to the tip, in a move he doesn’t think she means to be as teasing as it is, “You’re really hard.”

“I know,” he bites down hard on his bottom lip as he throbs again, under her attention, in the coolness of the air.

“Like, harder than I’ve ever seen you,” she states, and now her palm slides against his shaft, and she squeezes experimentally, looking between him and his cock, “And you’re so wet –”

“Y/N,” he just barely holds back from whimpering, “No teasing, Darling, I need to fuck this into you or I’ll cum all over myself. You don’t want to waste it, do you?” He inquired, and Y/N shook her head, scooting closer, “Yeah, let me fill you up, Baby, want to watch it fucking drip out of you when we’re done.”

She visibly shivered again, and Harry helped her lift and slide his cock inside of her. Y/N moans, her face pinches up from the pressure of him against her walls but she slips right on down like he belonged inside of her. Harry thinks Y/N likes the stretch – the burn of it, as long as it doesn’t border on too painful. She bottoms out, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she smushes their lips together. The kiss is brief before she nips at his plush bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth. While she does that, Harry presses his upper lip just above hers, his fingers digging into her thighs as she squeezes around him, accommodating his size. Her walls were velvety soft and smooth as they contract around him, the ridges and bumps something he’s set on memorizing.

Her ministrations with her mouth go to his chin, she kisses then bites her way down his jaw, to his ear, laving her tongue over the little wounds that were no doubt closing and healing over by now. Harry offers her his hand when he realizes that she must want to bite something, and he’d made the right assumption when she fits his knuckles between her teeth and chews on him. Harry laughs as she starts to lift her hips, then drops back down onto him, “You’re so fucking cute,” he chuckled, “Should we get you a chew toy? A little bone for a puppy like you?”

“Shut up,” her words are muffled around his fingers in her mouth but she’s riding him well. It feels so fucking good, Harry is holding onto every last bit of strength not to cum before her. A damning feat to accomplish when she finds the angle that hits that bundle of nerves inside of her just right – she clamps down on him, her eyes bead with tears as she fucks down onto him, and nibbles at his fingers.

“Do you feel good, Baby? S’my cock stretching you out nice?” Y/N nodded, whining, “You can cum for me. Don’t you want that? Cum on me and I’ll fill this little pussy right up.”

Harry shoves the sweatshirt up so it rests just above her bare tits, or at least enough that he can visualize them and then get one into his mouth. Her nipples are still hard, so pert and sensitive for him when he pulls them between his teeth and lulls his tongue in big circles around them. Harry alternates between sucking hard and flicking his tongue, and Y/N goes from chewing on his knuckles to holding them uselessly in her mouth and moaning around them. Harry feels her start to cum before she can even tell him through these breathy little whines.

He isn’t ashamed to say he starts cumming before she could finish – he makes sure to work her through it still, fucking through the point of overstimulation, his thumb lulling on her clit when he raised his feet onto the coffee table and started to fuck into her. Harry fills her up, his orgasm splinters through him so intensely that he thinks his vision whites out for a second. He’s throbbing so hard inside of her, he knows she could feel it each time, and in response to each one, she mewls and sighs as she finally starts to come down from her own high.

Harry untucks his face from her chest just as Y/N drops his fingers from her mouth. He’s still tucked inside of her but his cum slicks out from around where his cock is plugging her up, too much of it to even keep inside. The feeling is a little atrocious as it cools, but the thought of what it must look like almost has him stiffening up again.

Y/N all but collapsed onto him, and Harry oofs! dramatically, before wrapping her up in his arms. Her arms moved to hug around his waist this time, and she murmured something on his shoulder that he couldn’t quite make out. She turns her head, so her cheek rests against his shoulder instead, “I said I really missed you,” she repeated, “I’m happy you’re back home.”

A lot of responses run through Harry’s head, including, but not limited to I’m happy you’re here with me, I’m happy you’re in my life, I’m happy my cum is dripping out of you right now, I’m happy that our fates matched in this way, I’m happy that we have a kitten name Leaf, I’m happy our souls are bound together.

Harry doesn’t though. He thinks them, and he smiles to himself when he replies with something that he’s pretty sure covers all of that.

“I’m happy too.”

#WOOOOOOO #OKAY YAY #SORRY IT TOOK LONG #I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT!#I REMEMBERED THE TONGUE SUCKING!!!#WRITING #HARRY STYLES SMUT #HARRY SMUT #YAHTZEEE #OKAY #HOPE YOU LOVE IT #LOVE YOU

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httpiastri · 4 months

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sweet 20 – pa17

genre: hmmm kinda fluffy a lil suggestive, idk

pairing: reader x paul aron

warnings: mentions of alcohol.... idk anything else

word count: 1.3k

author's note: hmmmm idk about this one 😭 writer's block has been so bad recently and when i pressure myself to write, it all just gets so bad. idk. also ive had such a long day and i just wanna get this out before the day is over..... and it's only been proofread once 😕 anyway, hbd again paul <3

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"where did the birthday boy go?" dino's loud voice meets your ears over the blasting music and you turn to the side, seeing the swede making his way to you. "i almost mistook the two of you for siamese twins, seeing how close you've been all night."

he is right – paul has been pretty much attached to your hip for most of the evening. his hands have been on you at all times, fingers constantly dancing across your skin or along the fabric of your dress. even in a club filled with his friends, with people who would love to spend some time with the birthday boy, he still wouldn't let go of you.

"he needed to use the bathroom," you tell him with a chuckle. "i just barely managed to pry his fingers off me so he could leave me here, i didn't really feel like being pulled along."

dino laughs. "good call. the bathrooms here are pretty nasty..."

"yeah, i've seen the women's bathrooms, so i can imagine what the men's is like." he gives you an acknowledging nod. silence falls over the two of you for a moment as he just sips his drink, but then you speak up. "hey, good job at planning this all. paul was really surprised-"

"what was i surprised about?" paul's voice echoes from behind you, and just as you're about to turn to look at him, you feel two strong arms wrap around you, keeping you in place. "hm?"

"this surprise party," you tell him. "you really had no idea, did you?"

"no idea." he rests his chin on top of your shoulder, leaning his head on yours slightly. his voice grows quieter. "i missed you, you know."

"you missed me? when, now?" paul nods against your shoulder, and you look to dino with a grimace. he answers with a shake of his head, rolling his eyes at his best friend. "you left to go to the bathroom about two minutes ago."

paul hums. "but i still missed you."

you've almost never seen him this clingy. it's only when he gets a couple of drinks down that he's like this – and tonight, he's definitely had more than his share of the open bar. the strong smell oozing from him signals that the hangover will be bad. hopefully, it's worth it.

"i'm going to go find gabriele," dino says to excuse himself, disappearing in just a second.

you turn around in paul's arms, a smile creeping onto your lips when you see the very hazy expression on his face. "hi there," you say, pressing a quick kiss to his nose.

"hi there."

you pause for a second, but then you get an idea. you move your hands to wrap around his forearms. "i want to dance."

he shakes his head instantly. "you've seen me dance before, no way am i embarrassing myself in front of all these people."

"come on," you groan, pulling yourself out of his embrace to take his hands in yours. "it's your birthday, so you have to dance." he's about to interject, so you cut him off, beginning to back towards the dance floor. "i'm not taking no for an answer."

his mouth opens as if he has something to say back, but then he closes it, thinking better of it. he allows you to pull you with him, and the music envelops you the moment you step onto the dance floor. you can feel the bass inside your bones, and the lights overhead flash in an array of colors, casting a vibrant glow over the crowd. paul follows you reluctantly, his expression a mix of hesitance and amusement. after all, a gorgeous woman is dragging him with her to dance with him. how can he not be at least a little intrigued?

the atmosphere out there is contagious, and you can't help but caught up in the energy. moving with the flow of the crowd underneath the lights feels so natural to you – but paul isn't the same. he loves partying, sure, but the dancing itself...

he doesn't even notice his own lack of energy before you reach up to give his face a playful slap. "hey, ease up."

his eyebrows rise. "lead me, then..."

you can't help but let out a giggle at the request; underneath this tough, firm exterior hides a soft, sweet guy who's so insecure about his dancing that he freezes like this. of course, you help him out – it's your duty as his girlfriend, you think – and you place your hands on his shoulders. "grab my hips," you tell him. "and relax a little. this can't be any worse than driving your racing cars."

"it sure feels like it."

you shake your head. "now, just... move."

and that's what he does. you're not sure if it's because of the alcohol, or because his favorite the weeknd song is blasting from the speakers, but he's moving much more smoothly than he usually is.

or maybe it's your sweet smile that's encouraging him to keep on going.

as the song progresses, and then melts into another, paul seems to let go more and more. he actually dances surprisingly well – at one point, he even spins you, and you can't help but laugh at the unexpected skill.

the way that his hands move up and down your sides, sometimes slipping behind you to give your butt a quick squeeze, combined with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, makes your heart flutter even further. it seems to have an effect on paul too, because he pulls you closer to him. your eyes meet his, and for a moment, it feels like the world slows down. the desire in his gaze is unmistakable, and the intensity of the connection between the two of you is easily noticeable to anyone within a mile's radius.

he leans forward, lips grazing your ear as he whispers to you. "let's get out of here."

you lean back with a frown on your face, looking at him like he's crazy. "this is your party. all of your friends are here-"

"fuck my friends, i don't care about them." you slap his shoulder playfully, a gasp passing through your lips. "all i want is you."

"you're insatiable, you know that?"

he shrugs. "what can i say? you're irresistible."

you shake your head. now it's your turn to lean forward and whisper into his ear. "later," you start, giving his cheek a little kiss. "patience, my dear."

he groans. "i can't be patient. i think you know that by now."

"too bad. you haven't even had any cake yet." you grin. "or opened your presents."

"i only know of one gift that i want to unwrap..." he says, fingers reaching traveling lower on your dress and eventually reaching the hem, giving it a slight tug.

yet another giggle slips past your lips, but then you catch a glimpse of something behind him – and your gaze is different when you look back at him. you lean in closer, pressing your body up against his as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling his face closer to yours. your lips brush against him once, ever so slightly, and his breath hitches in his throat. is she actually about to give in?

"sorry to disappoint, but..."

timing has never really been on paul's side; he's always been unlucky in that way. even on his own birthday, things don't seem to work out for him – because just as he thinks he's getting somewhere, you suddenly pull away. his confusion only grows when the music is shut off and replaced with the sound of the entire club singing the birthday song. you point behind him, and he turns around to see a few of his friends carrying a big birthday cake, twenty lit candles perched on top of it.

"happy birthday," you whisper, and he shakes his head when he looks back at the teasing grin stretched across your lips.

"you're killing me. you know that, right?"

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stevestark · 21 days

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Eddie only gets told snippets of everyone else's Upside Down experiences after Vecna, like, the sanitized version. The story told by each person but omitting the most personally traumatizing parts. Which means he doesn't know much about Steve and Robin Versus The Russians. Not in its full, gory detail.

So he doesn't think anything of it when Steve has a day off and wants to hang out, just asks if he minds coming with him to Indianapolis. Steve says yes immediately because he just doesn't want to spend another day alone in his big empty house, even if it means several hours in Eddie's deathtrap of a vehicle.

But then they get there and Eddie is parking outside a tattoo parlor and saying he got a last minute booking with his favorite artist and that he's so excited to cover some of the scars he has from the bats and Steve can barely hear him over the fuzziness that seems to be filling his entire brain.

He lets Eddie guide him into the shop, watches Eddie and the tattooist make small talk, follows Eddie to the table, sits on the stool next to him, and tries to look anywhere but at the tattoo gun.

Eddie doesn't notice at first, too jazzed about the idea he and the artist have come up with, blabbering about how he can finally take his shirt off at the lake again. It's not until the line work is done that he realizes Steve's breathing has gone shallow.

He asks the artist if they can take a smoke break before filling the tattoo in with color, and he gently takes Steve's hand and pulls him out back to ask what's wrong. Steve's too deep into a panic attack to answer, so Eddie just puts Steve on the side opposite his new work and pulls him in close, squeezing him as tight as he can and just gently shushing him, running his hand through Steve's hair.

After a few minutes, Steve's breathing easier, and Eddie asks him again if he's okay.

"I'm fine, I just... I hate needles. Ever since the Russians drugged me and Robin. Can't be around them."

Eddie frowns, realizing this must be one of the parts of the story he knows they were keeping from him. "Why did Russians drug you?"

Steve sighs, pulls out of Eddie's grasp, and sits on the ground against the back wall of the tattoo shop. "Dustin picked up a Russian transmission, summer of '85. We translated it, found their secret base under the mall, and realized they were opening the Gate back up. But then we were seen, and to buy time, Robin and I let ourselves get caught so Erica and Dustin could escape and get help."

Eddie sits next to Steve, their knees bumping. "Erica Sinclair? God, that kid really is the most badass of all of us."

"Yeah," Steve laughs. "Anyway, the Russians beat the shit out of me, asking who do you work for and shit like that. Didn't believe me when I said Scoops Ahoy. So they brought in this Doctor and he drugged me and Robin to get us to talk. Just straight up jammed a big ass needle full of mystery drugs into my neck. Ever since then, needles freak me the fuck out. They had to strap me down in the hospital just to get an IV in me when Robin insisted I get the bat bites checked out."

Eddie runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Steve. I never would've brought you here with me if I knew."

"I know," Steve says quietly. "'S'not your fault. I'm trying to get better at being open about things like this but it's just..."

"Hard. Yeah. I wake up screaming most nights, and I can tell Wayne feels bad because he doesn't know what to do. Because he doesn't know what's causing it."

"Yeah," Steve sighs.

They sit quietly out there for another ten minutes before the tattooist comes back out to see if Eddie wants to keep going, and he glances at Steve, sees the way he's gone pale and rigid, and shakes his head. "Sorry, man, think we're gonna have to pick this up another time."

Eddie stands, grabs Steve's hand and hauls him to his feet, and walks inside, never once letting go of Steve. He sets an appointment for a few weeks from now, on a day he knows Steve is working, and they leave the shop.

The second they're in the car, Eddie sees the color returning to Steve's face, and he drives aimlessly through the city, finally stopping at a combination bookstore/cafe.

"Come on then, big boy," he says with a teasing grin. "I do believe I promised to teach you about Hobbits."

#steddie fic #drabble #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #just a passing thought I had whilst watching Steve and Robin get drugged

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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months

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The yan!stsg x reader cheating has me in a chokehold for days actually! As much as its thrilling, vindicating and flattering that these hoes come crawling back(except for gojo? Hes like the newest addition to you so hes just strolling in your 3sum 😭😂), beneath that surface is actually a heavy cesspool of angst(i love angsts!) like thats where your vision of unrequited love in yan trope comes in delicious clutch

Youve forgiven, moved on and stuff— theres no coming back to loving suguru again; but the banger is!!! Amidst your years captivity, you forgot how you started loving suguru. Yep, forgot.

You dont wonder the moot points how suguru is unrecognizable from the time youre with him nor question yourself what made you fell in love with the pos in the first place.

But youre trying to remember how you fell for him in the past because you feel nothing now; indifference, and how jarring you find yourself to be in this predicament— and so that trying to be with the two in your turbulent captivity would be freeing in companionship.

But the thing is, your feelings are like ashes that stsg is trying to ignite again, but you feel nothing; or a blind person trying to perceive colors or stuff.

JUST imagine sugurus pain in the later years, youve got hidden diary in between your cloud docs or written in little receipts thats about your regrets and your love for a person(thats after him) and that love is so full of passion and longing its borderline painful that you tried to get back to feeling any semblance of emotions for suguru but failed. Just suguru pathetically stewing in regret, how he shouldve handled both you and gojo and rage, because you loved another person thats equivalent to how you used for HIM lmaooo

I hope ive articulate my feelings for this prompt quite fine??? Im struggling with english(its my 2nd language), i hope you get the gist of it xD thanks for listening to my rant, but i had to share this brain rot 😭🙏😊

istg if you dont get outta my inbox and wRITE THIS SHIT RN-

ughhh i think its even worse that you've forgiven them, right???? lets face it, it's only cuz of you suguru and satoru were even able to get together. those two fucking suck at communication and you basically taught suguru to love and be vulnerable. maybe, even before the cheating happened, you became friends with Satoru, you talked about things together, he become softer with you and he fell for you. They both loved you, but they loved eachother too.

you forgive them, because of course you do. but it still hurts to see them, so you leave. Maybe you move cities, ignore their phone calls, block their numbers. You meet someone else. Someone who gently puts you back together, makes you learn to trust again.

You forgive Satoru and Suguru enough to send them wedding invitations. It's all water under the bridge, you think to yourself. You don't realize that they still aren't over you. That they will never feel complete without you. They've lost contact with you for years but now you've given them an exact date, time, and location.

They don't care how happy you are with your new partner. All that they care about is how happy they'll make you.

#yandere #yandere jjk #dark gojo satoru #dark jjk #yandere gojo satoru #dark geto suguru #yandere geto suguru #yandere satosugu #x reader #satosugu cheating au

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gatorbites-imagines · 8 months

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Kinktober day 5

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader + uniform kink

I’ve been a Darth Vader fanboy (dickrider) for so long, I’m amazed I haven’t written smut about him before. This is loosely based on a plot idea I’ve had for a long time but never sat down and wrote.

This is the longest thing ive written for this kinktober, the spirit of star wars itself must have posessed me.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

You were an imperial officer, you hadn’t always been one of course. Before the empire rose you had been your average war general under the republic working closely with the jedi and their clonetroopers, most of all you worked with the 501st lead under Anakin Skywalker, a name not even allowed to be murmured anymore. You had always carried some sort of candle for general Skywalker, the hero with no fear, but everyone knew jedi weren’t allowed to be in relationships, and even if they were, you could never imagine Skywalker being interested in you.

For some reason, after the empire rose you had joined their ranks. What else could you do? You had lost everything in the war, and even though you didn’t believe in their propaganda, you knew the republic had been just as corrupt, they just hid it better. Your old coworkers had never liked how easily you switched sides for credits, but since you had no one to tie yourself too it was easy to put on a new uniform and kill under some randos orders. It was what had made you so useful during the clone wars and for the empire afterwards, you were quick and smart and had little mercy in your soul.

Of course, your heart gave a squeeze when you would see the formerly lively clones be reduced to mindless flesh droids, or when you saw the few remaining jedi being dragged away for re-education or to be gotten rid of. But under the emperor you were paid handsomely, more than most other officers you learned, why though you could never tell. Maybe it was the fact that you were the longest lasting officer under Lord Vader, as the sith had a tendency to snuff out the life of anyone who got on his nerves. Anyone but you.

For some reason, Vader seemed to like you, at least to the degree a sith could like somebody. He kept you around, at least. And at times you were sure he was staring at you longer than was appropriate, but you weren’t gonna say anything, especially to the guy known for snapping necks of anyone who got in his way.

Your status as Vader’s personal officer came one day in the form of a special uniform. It looked like your average imperial officer uniform, except for the fact that instead of black or white, the top part of your uniform was now a dark deep crimson. The color reminded you of dried blood. The pants were pitch black, the same shade as Vader’s cloak. If you looked deeper into your outfit, you would see the stitches were done with a red thread, almost like Vader’s saber. It was clear you were Vader’s, whether you wanted it or not.

Being Vader’s personal officer was isolating, more than usual. You had always been known as cold and tough, because you had to be to have lasted as long as yourself standing so close to Vader and the emperor. But after being so visibly marked as someone under Vader’s terrifying eye, all new officers and troopers seemed to avoid you or walk on eggshells around you, as if fearing your wrath would be Vader’s wrath itself. You had gotten used to the loneliness a long time ago, but as more and more officers and crew from your time were replaced you ended up having just yourself and your thoughts.

And your thoughts somehow always ended up back on Anakin Skywalker, that jedi general you had fought beside many years ago now. You wondered how he would have felt if he knew who you had become, how much blood was on your hands, how many innocents you had doomed. You knew deep down it was stupid, he had never truly known you, you had been nothing but coworkers, fellow generals. But for some reason, his handsome face, beautiful eyes, and strong body would appear in your dreams and in the recess of your mind.

Even as you stood behind Vader in the cockpit of the large ships he would parade around in, you would find some of your attention sliding to memories of Skywalker. For some reason his clothes had always fascinated you, the dark robes had been so unusual for jedi, but they had been perfect on him. Maybe it was because of this that small twinges in your mind had started feeling a pull to Lord Vader of all people.

Maybe it was his height, his presence, or just the black clothing he wore that seemed to light something in your mind. Maybe it was fear mixing itself with lust, as you had noticed how he seemed even more tense than usual. Others would be unable to see, but you had stood behind him since the moment the emperor brought him forth. You could see it in the way his fists tightened, and his gloves creaked, or how his breathing just became a lad louder from what you could under imagine was frustration.

You were sure you were going mad from your isolation when your dreams were starting to become filled with not only Anakin Skywalker but Darth Vader, their gloved hands pulling at your body, Vader holding you up as Anakin had his way with you, or Anakin’s mechanical hand twisting and torturing your length as Vader made you choke on his fingers or cock, depending on if your dream thought the cyborg sith even possessed privates.

Normally you would be able to release the tension these dreams brought you, but Vader had seemed to call you to his personal quarters late at night. This night your dream had been stranger than usual, there had not been just Anakin or Vader, or even both at once, instead Anakin and Vader had been on. You had been in your imperial officer garb as well, something that rarely happened in your dreams featuring Skywalker, and the Vader Anakin amalgamation has pulled you apart. His heavy breathing still rang in your ears as you hurried towards your lords’ quarters.

The halls were empty, or as empty as they could be as you passed a couple of troopers patrolling, whom all saluted you as they were supposed to. You were sure you looked a mess, the call from Lord Vader had been urgent, and you hadn’t had time to pick up your newly pressed uniforms yet and had to put on the one you had worn all day. Outside the door of Vader’s quarters, you took a deep breath as you collected yourself, before knocking.

When you were welcomed in you almost choked at the sight before you, for a moment you were sure your lord was suffocating you with the force. There had never been a bed in Lord Vader’s room, as he had no need for one, but now there was. It was large, big enough to fit maybe three or four beings Vader’s own size, and the sheets were blood red and looked so expensive even your high salary felt a hit.

“Sir” you stated, straightening your back as you tried to not let your thoughts run haywire as Vader sat upon the bed like a king on his throne. Maybe it was leftovers from your dreams, but the spread of his powerful thighs and slow deep breathing leaving his respirator had your palms going clammy under his gloves. You cursed the fit of your uniform, as you were sure your halfchub caused by your dream was still visible as you stood straight.

This was it, Vader was gonna get rid of you for daring to show up looking so disheveled and uneven. “Officer” he rumbled in his deep voice, and you clenched your teeth and shut your eyes, ready for what you were sure was gonna be your death. Instead you felt your body being lurched forwards with what you knew was the force, falling to your knees as the force seemed to pull your feet out from under you.

As you opened your eyes you found yourself on your knees between Vader’s strong thighs, his gloved palm coming to hold your chin as he seemed to look you over with a critical eye, even under his helmet. You gulped, your halfchub filling up faster than you could dream of suppressing, and the scoffed exhale that left Vader made it sure you knew that he knew just how affected you were.

His other hand came up and adjusted the collar of your uniform, his strong mechanical fingers lingering around the vulnerable flesh of your neck. “Your dreams, officer. Are so very loud” he spoke in that deep voice of his, you were sure you heard it wrong as it felt like he had purred out those words. You face became hot, and so did your entire body, at the mention of your dreams. You knew force users could read or sense thoughts, but some innocent hopeful part of yourself had hoped your dreams would stay secret.

“Your uniform is out of order” he rumbled, the blank lenses of his helmet forcing you to stare at your own reflection. You tried to force yours mouth open to speak, to apologize for your appearance and your dreams, maybe to beg for mercy. But your lord seemed to have different plans, as his booted foot pressed against your crotch where you were hardest, a surprised moan leaving you.

“Remove your coat, officer” he rumbled, the fingers gripping your chin tightening until you followed his orders almost desperately. This had to be a dream, you were sure of it, why else would lord Vader be letting you rut against his boot like some kind of dog. “Your room is just below me own, did you know? You broadcast your dreams loudly” he kept going, grinding his boot harder between your thighs, making you gasp and grasp as his leg.

“You must make it up to me” Vader rumbled, and all speculation if he even possessed privates left your mind. In your dreams he had always been large, as he was so tall, but seeing it did it no justice. His strong grip knocked your hat off your head, another part of your uniform, as he pulled you forwards. You barely had time to prepare before your mouth as filled, and the tight fabric of your uniform pants became unbearable as you found yourself arching at the act.

Vader didn’t moan as he fucked your face, or rather pulled your head back and forth at his whim, but his breathing shook and that was enough for you. Your mind was a jumbled mess of Darth Vader and Anakin Skywalker, for some reason you had grown hooked on the combination. If you weren’t so out of it, you might have noticed that Vader would thrust down your throat extra hard whenever images of the jedi appeared in your mind, but you could barely keep focus.

There was no warning as he came, just an extra deep exhale and him bottoming out, forcing your nose against his hairless pubic area. His shiny boot rolled against your crotch, and you were almost sure he must have done something with the force as you found yourself finish, even as he made you swallow all he gave you, you stained the inside of your boxers and uniform pants.

It took a moment to clear your thoughts as Lord Vader finally let you pull back, your throat sore in the best way and your eyes teary. You must have looked a mess, as Vader wiped under your drooling mouth with his large thumb. “Go fix up your uniform, officer” he rumbled, the force pushing you to your feet even as you almost buckled at the knees. Maybe you were still high on your orgasm, but you swore his tone was softer than normal, and that his touch was more careful as he put your hat back on your head and you tucked your jacket back on.

“I will call for you in the morning” Vader spoke, his tone meaningful in a way that had excitement brewing in you once more. “Sir” you replied in affirmation, trying not to shiver at how raw your voice was. As you hurried back to your quarters, Vader exhaled loudly as he ran his hand over his helmeted face, for once wishing he still possessed his old face so that maybe he could have indulged you in that so powerful dream of yours.

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genderkoolaid · 10 months

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was gonna make a funny post abt people's reactions to the blue-green gay flag but ive thought about this too much and now im mad.

the current most popular lesbian flag, the one by emily gwen, was made in 2018 on tumblr. i remember before that seeing the lipstick lesbian flag everywhere, and now its very common to see emily gwen's flag used as the official lesbian flag.

so why is that not cringey or terminally online? why is seeing the blue-green flag being used in an official capacity a "oh my god no one but young online transmascs know about this flag why are they using it" thing instead of like. simple recognition that our cultural symbols grow and change. why is the lesbian flag allowed to do that but an alternate flag for gay men is erasing our history or being divisive. no one is forcing you at gunpoint to only use that flag and never ever look at the gilbert baker flag. are gay men not allowed to make new things. i'm sure your hatred for this flag has nothing to do with any underlying negative feelings towards transmasculinity. because any sort of culture built by gay trans men isn't real gay culture if cis guys aren't involved.

edit: sorry i wanna that the og blue-green flag was made in 2019. its literally a single year younger than emily gwen's flag. it also does have color meanings, and yk whats funny? i have never seen anyone give emily gwen shit for having an entirely warm-colored flag. even though its not all pink, its all warm/red shades. sorry is that not problematic because it reinforces gender roles. is the trans flag also bad. why do all these complaints of "its stolen" "its ugly" "its divisive" only come up when gay trans men are making the thing. hey. hey. come back here and answer me

#m.

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queenimmadolla · 7 months

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Hey hun, Ive got a horrible chest cold AND im on my period at the same time, so as you can imagine I feel like a dumpster shit fire right now. If its possible could you do a little drabble where Eddie is nursing a sick reader. If not i totally understand I know youve got a lot on your plate atm. Thanks hun, love ya ❤️

happy to drop everything to nurse one of our own back to health 🫡. hope this helps make you feel better!

“I’m dying.” You whined from the mounds of blankets you were surrounded by, with a pathetic sniffle.

“You’re not dying.” Eddie refuted, as he measured out your medicine, pouring the bitter syrupy liquid into the cap you’d have to throw back. He was also trying to hide his grin.

It’s not that Eddie liked it when you were sick, but now that the two of you lived together—in a crappy one bedroom apartment that was the best thing in the world because it was yours—he could nurse you back to health, take care of you. And if you just so happened to be extra cuddly whenever you were sick, that was just a plus.

It was domestic.

Eddie loved living with you, even if you left all the bottom cabinet doors open whenever you retrieved something and he’d bust his knee against them, loved that you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes in the morning and the last thing he glimpsed before falling asleep. Loved brushing his teeth in the mirror with you at his side doing the same thing, loved how he had a five minute window to convince you it was a good idea for the two of you to just stay home together instead of parting to go out into the world. Most of all, he loved being able to look up from whatever he was doing, be it planning out future Hellfire sessions or working on a new song or even catching up on his reading, to see you curled into the loveseat, or in the kitchen, hear you humming as you walked down the hall.

Existing around him.

Co-existing with you was something Eddie wanted to do forever. If this was married life, Eddie would be on his knee the second you felt better.

“I’m dying.” You reaffirmed, scowling when Eddie turned around and you caught sight of the yellow–never a good tasting color for medicine–liquid filled measuring cap in Eddie’s large grasp.

“You’re not dying on me, baby. I refuse to let that happen. Now, take your medicine so we can make sure it doesn’t.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, medicine held out to you.

Gingerly, you grasped it and when he reached for the orange juice on your side table, you switched up, “You know what? You’re right. I’m not dying. I feel better already.”

“Drink the medicine,” Eddie smirked, handing you the glass.

“But it’s Prescription.” Your frown deepened, tongue already assaulted by the idea of what it would taste like. Eddie had taken you to the doctor’s yesterday morning and picked up your prescription after so you’d had the pleasure of taking it three times already.

It was a nasty son of bitch.

“Which means you’ll get better faster. Drink.”

You gave him one last glare before downing the medicine like a shot. Your face contorted in disgust and Eddie chuckled as you hurried to take a drink of your orange juice to wash the taste away.

“That’s poison.” You croaked, handing Eddie the juice and empty medicine cup before settling back into your pillows with a pout just as an onslaught of coughs hit you, sending you into a fit you muffled against your inner elbow.

Eddie could hear your chest rattle with them and placed your medicine cup and glass down on the bedside table so he could rub your back.

Once your coughing fit had subsided, you took a couple of shaky breaths before glaring up at him again, “It didn’t work.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and nudged you over, much to your surprise. The bed was littered with your used tissues, some having been coughed into and others containing your snot. Not exactly the place to want to be.

“My poor, sweet, gross baby.” He cooed as he settled in behind you, pulling you right into his chest.

You ignored the gross comment and protested even though you were curling right into him, nose nuzzling against his hoodie covered collar bone, eager for his warmth. Of course you’d gotten sick just as winter settled.

“Eddie! You’re gonna get sick.” A pitiful argument considering you were already settled on him like a cat having found their new lounging spot.

“Oh, I know I am. Who cares? I slept next to you last night and woke up to a hill of your snotty tissues in my face so it’s already in my system. No use in denying myself the love of my life.” You felt his hand drift lower until he was patting your ass cheek. He wasn’t trying to start anything, it was just one of Eddie’s many love gestures. When he’d ask if he could squeeze your ass like it was some sort of stress ball to comfort him—that’s when he was going for it.

“It wouldn’t be in your system if you hadn’t insisted on still sleeping with me last night.” You reminded him and felt him shrug under you in response. You peaked up at him to see him relaxed, one arm propping his head up with the other holding you to him. His eyes were shut and a look of utter content was on his face. It was almost like he’d been the one to take the codeine.

“We didn’t move in together so I can avoid you, this is just some more experience for us. You deal with my morning breath, I deal with having our bed covered in germs when you’re sick.” His hand began to stroke up and down your back and your eyes fluttered shut, the codeine making quick work of your system.

“Why am I the one suffering in both of those scenarios?” You slurred out.

Eddie shook with laughter underneath you, “Shut up and go to sleep. I’ll make you some soup when you wake up, you jerk.”

You did fall asleep. And when you woke up, Eddie insisted on carrying you—because a chest cold apparently meant you couldn’t walk yourself anywhere—to the living room where you watched some television while he did his best to follow a recipe your mother had given him for a homemade soup she’d make whenever you were sick.

And three days later, when you’d made a full recovery, Eddie developed a rattling cough. The ring he’d hidden in a pair of his shoes would just have to wait until you nursed him back to health.

#eddie munson x reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson blurb

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jakeromanoart · 5 months

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How do you make your color palettes?? theyre literally gorgeous, I've been trying to do more bright "clashing" colors but they always clash too much

hi!! i may have posted this before so sorry if i sound like a broken record. i have three different ways i find palettes for my art.

method #1: sample from my own art is it because im lazy? yes!! a little bit!! but does it also work and give me a jumping off point for my art while keeping my art looking cohesive?? also yes!! i know of 4 recent paintings that all sampled and referenced each other. i'll post them below

if it aint broke dont fix it! also if youre experimenting with color and things just arent looking great go find an artist you like and sample from them. i dont condone copying or tracing art but drawing inspiration from your favorite artists by eyedropping their paintings so you can learn from them is in the okay zone for me.

method #2: just straight up using my favorite colors CONFIDENTLY i created this palette and i literally sample from it every time. i think a big part of making color look good is just being confident. if you zoom into some parts of my art there are definitely instances when things clash but i actually try to lean into those instances bc it creates a sort of unique eyestrain look. colors dont have to always play nice for a piece to work

i always use at least three colors from this palette to start (feel free to sample from this if youd like)

method 3 is kind of a last resort but it does the trick in a pinch: i take my reference picture and pump the colors WAYYYY up then sample from that. for this painting in particular i wanted to include a lot of green. admittedly green palettes are my worst enemy so i relied on this method to help me out here:

i like this method especially with my ref photos of nature because often i find that natural colors hardly clash and there are many harmonious undertones hidden beneath what at first glance looks like "just green" or "just brown" . pumping up the saturation with a photo editing tool brings all those hidden colors to the surface while keeping them somewhat harmonious

i hope this helps a little bit! ive never taken a color theory class or anything so i wish i could give more technical advice about color relationships and stuff like that but mostly i just.. use the colors that i love most, which may be a good place to start ⚡

#jakey speaks #eyestrain #asks

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the-moon-files · 6 months

Text

Linked Universe / GN!Reader - Random Headcanons abt the Chain :)

Part 1 (ur here!) / Part 2 / Part 3

Sun: Gender Neutral! Reader (you/they/them), Guide Reader

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: First, Sky, Four, Legend

Comets & Meteors: Content: None Known & Triggers: None Known.

U have a lot of Nicknames: Guide, Hero's Guide, Prince, Princey, Star, (more to be added?).

☆

First (Manga!Link):

Has "too good" of posture lol

It makes his back stiff and by the time he's in his bedroll he's confused about why it feels better, silly silly man

Just in general tenses his muscles too often, so whenever u offer to massage him, he nearly crumbles on the spot

(the others know exactly how amazing ur massages are, and are fully staring at him in jealousy lol)

Gets little rips and tears in his clothing all the time somehow??

Even tho he wont have a scratch acc on him after hours of battle???

mans could be flying around Skyloft with only clouds touching him and come back pouting telling you he ripped his scarf again :'(

Likes to be slightly in front of you most of the time, especially in new places/other Links' Hyrules

It just makes him feel better knowing he's both protecting you, and that you're watching his back

(Most Links feel at their best/most confident when your voice can be heard just over their shoulder, not that they don't love seeing ur face now too)

Sky (Skyward Sword Link):

Is slowly making everyone he knows a collection of wooden figurines

He usually carves when he's bored or stressed

so needless to say this mission of the Shadow (slow going, stressful at times like Twi getting hurt)

Has made him give u an army of little wooden figures (everyone else gets a small collection bc ur the first he gives one to)

Did i say give? Excuse me, i meant:

sneaks them as a little surprise into your belongings or clothing or other personal effects

This started bc after a week or two of him giving you wooden things you tried to reroute him to other ppl,

so Sky just made it his mission to see how many he can sneak instead onto you on any given day lmao

(Also he may or may not have daydreamed abt being able to carve u things and actually physically give them to you on his adventure before, so he's taking advantage of being able to now)

Has luscious hair at all times, little to no effort, Wars is so pissed abt it lol

Mf responded when asked what products he used (by poor Wars too) with, "wym?? With water??? And soap????"

Never ties his boot laces

You will all be gearing up for battle and go to stalk and stealth kill monsters and right before u get up on them u always have to look over at Sky's shoes and whisper at him to tie them

Is the most likely to plant face first into the ground or trip and fall on his ass from shoes untying

He just didnt need to with being in the clouds on his Loftwing all the time back on Skyloft and so he never rlly adapted to that even on the surface lol

He's also just miserable at doing a decent knot so you've taken to teaching him repeatedly how to tie them-

why didnt the knight academy help with this at all actually??

(Wind makes fun of him be hes a sailor and knows like 10+ knots)

Four (Four Swords/Minish Cap Link):

Loses his tools constantly

Well not really "lose" so much as "slightly misplace"

It drives him crazy, the Minish used to help him with it back in his Hyrule so he got out of the habit of putting things back where they belong

You've gotten to the point where you'll glance over wherever he's working so the next time he comes up to u complaining abt a lost hammer or smth u immediately just "should be over by the fire"

And ur right, 99.9% of the time its so funny

Bc Four's all like "wtf ive moved around so much since then i took all the other tools with me- MF. U WERE RIGHT."

Is rlly good at like color matching, comes in handy for new outfits

Also has aches and pains like in his hands and arms mostly

Bc of all the forge work, and absolutely treasures any massages u offer him

Likes to wear matching jewelry with you! Like earrings or piercings or necklaces etc

Also has good taste in jewelry and what looks good on everyone + you

Legend (Link to the Past, Link's Awakening etc):

Unfortunately the type of person to just shove things in his bag willy nilly

Its the horder tendencies, he just has a lot of stuffs so he gave up trying to organize it

Actually really good at styling hair, Legend would absolutely lie abt it if u asked but he can spend as much time on his hair as Warrior

Likes to experiment with new clothes, like skirts or bright colors, esp if they match some of his clothes already

U ran by some makeup one time in another Hyrule and he knew how to use it rlly well??

Lies abt random skills he has, or like thinks skills he already has can translate well,

like he's rode a horse before wym he can't drive Wild's motorcycle??

Or fly a Loftwing???

Well now its a challenge

Tbh most competitive over stupid things randomly out of all the Links besides Wild, Wind, Wars, and occasionally Hyrule + Sky + Time

Got challenged to try and go shield surfing with u once and thought that horse-riding skill would transfer and it did in fact Not.

Actually kinda scared the other Links watching u two spin out and crash ngl, what with doing an accidental backflip? Midair??

but u both were okay somehow???

Also weirdly lucky, u stg he's got some sort of ring or blessing for that

☆

IT ACCIDENTALLY POSTED I FUCKING HATE TUMBLR ITS DONE THIS TO ME MULTIPLE TIMES NOW 😭😭

All the Links WOULD HAVE been here if it werent for fucking tumblr

Ill post more parts soon if anyone is interested

Peace out,

🌙

#male reader #botw link x reader #loz link x reader #link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #lu x male reader #lu x masc reader #lu sky x reader #lu first x reader #lu legend x reader #lu four x reader

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ms0milk · 10 months

Text

dog tired and destined to drown

shinsou hitoshi x (fem)reader

cw MDNI, established fwb, thoroughly whipped shinsou, reader is exhausted and in need of some assistance. pent up tears, not quite dacryphilia, fingering + oral (reader receiving), soft dom!shinsou, praise + reassurance, "my girl," and "pretty girl" used throughout. not sure how to tag -> "reader bursts into tears and gives shinsou a heart attack." two dopes lie to themselves about having casual feelings. 3.7k

He doesn’t stumble so much as melt into the dorms, after wrapping up a midnight patrol that’s made him contemplate eating his hero license. It’s fucking finals season.

Shinsou drags himself through the second round of glass safety doors and into the common room, empty, save for you. Hunched over a splay of books and colored pens on the round center table. Your head perks up at his entrance. His fingers tighten around the strap of his bag.

You’re sitting sleepy and so goddamned pretty in your favorite sweater and the ridiculous headband you never remember to take off after washing your face, a pretzel in your chair. One knee up (a round red imprint of it on your cheek) and both arms laden with paperwork too complicated for a sidekick. Shinsou imagines dropping his equipment on the common room floor and filling his hands with you. Kissing your forehead and stumbling stupidly off to bed hand in hand.

He doesn’t do any of that but does smile the way you both know is always only for you and rumbles with a quirk-worn voice, “Why are you awake?”

Nonchalance is attempted but as always it comes out cloying.

When Shinsou approaches your sticky note-highlighter-spiral bound workbench, you still haven’t answered the question and he realizes that your dark circles might actually be competing with his.

“Hitoshi,” you sag– and the exhaustion is so unlike you it's worrying– and crawl out of your seat, abandoning both slippers, to meet him. Before you can thud against his chest, Shinsou catches you with a palm to the forehead and drops his bag to the floor.

“Hey– hey, Y/n?”

If you weren’t dead on your feet you might’ve clicked both heels at the sound of your first name tumbling, finally so comfortably, from Shinsou’s lips. It took you getting knocked unconscious on a mission two months ago for him to even dare speak the word and while today was significantly less life threatening, it didn’t feel much better. As it stands, an IV drip might even do you some good.

“Bad day?”

Instead of answering, you slip your face from the worried hero’s hold and bury it into the shoulder of his sweatshirt.

You agreed, you both agreed to keep your relationship a secret from your friends. You both agreed it was just casual, a way to let out stress in the unrelenting chaos of third-year sidekick work. Nothing special, zero stakes. Although casual certainly does not mean crumbling into your fuckbuddy’s chest after a horrible day and you feel ridiculous before any words even manage to leave your mouth.

Shinsou practices saying your name, testing it over tongue and tooth under his breath, everyday, all day long. He considers inflection and emphasis, your foreign accent, and the way his own accent might fuck up the beautiful shapes. He’s a civilian in love, he doesn’t think you’re ridiculous.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, uninterested in who might walk into the common room and see you both like this. You shake your head, the last shake landing your face against the warm skin of his neck to nuzzle the pulse there, irregular, and take in the smell of his post-patrol shower. He holds back chills when you exhale against him.

He tries again, “Then what’s wrong?” and pushes your thick headband back far enough to pull it from your hair. He smooths down the frizz he caused with two big hands along the sides of your head, keeping up the slow and heavy strokes long after he’s tamed your flyaways.

“Y/n?”

“Civilian got hurt on patrol today.”

You don’t need to explain. Hero work doesn’t always feel triumphant.

“And I bombed my practice exam, and, and I just can’t fucking focus.”

Shinsou, worn-out in his own ways, wilts as he realizes how much deeper your exhaustion is than a failed test or injured civilian. It's been weeks for both of you, of mismatched patrol schedules and shitty sidekick busywork. Agencies across town, overnight shifts, and class in the morning. Worse than all that, your shoulders start to tremble from where he’s tucked you inside of him.

“Are they safe? The civilian.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, mostly muffled by his own collar, “just a short hospital stay.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Itsuka made dinner.”

“Is that a yes?”

You clutch at the sides of his jacket and nod again, accompanied by more chills and he simultaneously can’t watch and (more importantly) cannot stand just letting you cry silently against his shoulder. Shinsou brings his hands from your hair to your cheeks and pulls your face up to look at him from where you’ve hidden it.

No tears drip from your lashes. You just stare through him, more exhausted than anyone he’s ever seen save for Aizawa or a trip to any mirror. The usually aggressive twinkle in your eyes has dulled and suffice it to stay, Shinsou’s heart breaks a little bit more. You’re so pretty so close to him even under unflattering dorm lighting and the gutwrenching bite of your lip, holding back everything he’s sure overwhelms you inside.

He brushes both thumbs under your eyes and hopes that the very not-casual and actually quite unrelenting love that threatens to spill from him like honey, doesn’t seep into your skin from his touch and give him away.

“I’ll help you with work in the morning.. I think you should call it a night.”

For a second you continue to look at, through, and over him and then you lean forward for a kiss.

It’s warm and minty and Shinsou’s endlessly embarrassed by how easy it would be for your lips to kill him, but you’re needier than you should be considering the burden of your dark circles. He struggles to lean away and succumbs to the hungry tilt of your chin and the cloy of your tongue three more times before managing a staccato, “I don’t think–”

“I can’t sleep,” you breathe. You’ve dipped back far enough to speak and Shinsou knows he shouldn’t, but he cups your jaw– cradles your neck in either hand and sinks forward to press your lips together again. He’s so, so tired, and his head bobs lazily, but you cling to his sleeve and tuck your nose under his to follow where his mouth guides you.

In just a few seconds the pair of you are lost, Shinsou with his forehead pressed to yours and you with the unshakable urge to pull his stupid jacket off. Any classmate studying late or in need of a midnight snack might not have the strength to do anything but crawl back up the staircase at the sight of you.

You lean away earnestly this time and press your thumb into his swollen lip. It slides easily over saliva your tongue left behind and the hero watches every flicker of your eyes so sincerely it makes your ears hot.

“m sorry your day was so terrible.”

“Honestly, I’m so tired I can’t even cry. Toshi I’m–” This close, your eyes can’t focus well enough to see each other clearly but you still get butterflies under his gaze, “Can you help me fall asleep tonight?”

He slips his palms back up to your cheeks and tilts your head slowly, side to side to study you. In a bustling school morning or family dinner with class 3-B, Shinsou treats you as he would any other teammate. No touching save for a spar, no gifts or surprises, and certainly no sweet words. He does watch you though, from his desk beside yours. And says yes too quickly when you ask for help. He smiles every time he sees you, just slightly, and no one, none of your classmates and least of all you, has the heart to point it out in case he stops self-consciously.

Privacy is what makes Shinsou so touchy and if you could have seen the glaze over his eyes from this close, you would know there isn’t a thought in his head except for you.

He takes his time quietly tracing your jaw with his fingers and tucking your hair behind your ears. You know he’s worried about you, and you can feel in the lightness of his touch the way he’s sorting out how to tell you that you’re just gonna have to go to bed. For your health and safety and all those sappy things.

But Shinsou just watches you quietly for a few more seconds. He drinks in the sight of you after so many days apart and whispers, “Yes. Yeah, okay.” Processing your request in real time. He blinks back down to you, “My room?”

Practiced hands remember every cleft of your body even in dim lamplight. Shinsou’s chest is bare, warm– hot even and soft when you steady yourself against it. He’s real, there’s give in his skin when you squeeze him and a heartbeat in every vein under your fingers. You’re on your knees straddling his lap in an equally warm bed and trying your hardest not to make a single sound.

“Can I take this off?” He murmurs through hair in his spot behind your ear. Shinsou bites kisses up your shoulder while one hand flits at the clasp of your bra. Patient, steady. The other presses up each dip of your spine in the chill left behind by your long abandoned sweater. You nod. A flick, then two and your own chest is finally bare against his, nipples pert and pressed from how close Shinsou holds you.

It’s agonizing how gentle he is.

“You’re warm,” he whispers as you pull away to cup his face and roll your clothed hips over his own.

“Use me hero, I'm yours tonight just–”

He silences you in dim light with a kiss, more of a touch of lips, and leans his forehead against yours, “Slow down.”

He can’t trick you though, your words always send him to the brink. The tent of his briefs is a bulge between your legs now, easy to slide against and hot enough to warm you through your underwear. Faces pressed close Shinsou kisses you again, resting one hand on your ass and drawing the other up your back so lightly it sends chills feathering out in every direction.

“Not treating you rough when you’re so tired,” he breathes, “‘s not safe.”

You consider headbutting the man and decide against it, opting instead to pull his lips back to you with your teeth. You’re allowed a few rough kisses before Shinsou presses one of his hands flat to your stomach with fingertips so cold that your gasp breaks the seal between you.

He hums as your body trembles, cursing and shivering all while the sleepy hero takes his time warming himself up against you, in the dips of your cleavage and thighs. Shinsou, as always, wants to eat you alive.

“You work so hard Y/n, it’s my turn. My turn to make you feel good, yeah?” He drags a knuckle down your stomach, further and further until he grazes a spot too sensitive for you to keep still. Cute, he agonizes when you buck against his fingers and he smiles into your cheek when he finds the pooled wet waiting for him through your underwear.

Nodding wildly, you catch his lips again and grind your hips deeper into his, only relenting when Shinsou slips his hand under your waistband and truly gives you what you want. You gasp with his feathertouch at that sensitive bud, just the circle of two fingers before he presses deeper into your folds.

As your body pours into his too gentle touches Shinsou keeps you close, “C’mon, tell me.” A heavy hand slides up your spine, one notch at a time until his palm cradles the back of your neck. He’s wrapped around you, he’s supporting you at every angle and it’s allconsuming.

Shinsou doesn’t ask, he instructs; he doesn’t want to hurt you. The days he uses his quirk on you are rare and no matter how hot you think it is or how much effort you put into begging, he still makes you explain to him, with every detail you can imagine, what you want. You’re in love with him. You hope he can’t tell.

“Tell me.”

“You Toshi– inside of me, please ‘can’t wait–”

You must be blind if you can’t see how quickly he gives you everything you ask for.

With you straddling his lap, Shinsou presses two fingers at your quivering entrance and sinks, knuckles deep, finally inside of you.

It’s the deepest, hungriest ache. The hero’s digits drag wet with the slightest hint of a curve. Smooth and steady, Shinsou begins to pump his wrist, keeping those fingers you know so well hooked against the spot that fills your head with static.

You think you’ve said something– made some kind of sound in your haze because Shinsou’s chest rumbles with laughter as you melt so pretty for him. Finally unable to form a single exhausted thought.

“My sweet girl.”

Wet drips from his wrist and pools in his palm as he holds you steady over his thighs, rolling and suckling and pulling the fear and the fight from your body with his thick fingers. It’s all a dream. Spreading you open and kissing you better– his dream. He draws you tight against him with a hand at the back of your neck as he fucks you gentle, pressing your cheek to his shoulder and smiling when your fingers shake and tremble at his biceps, failing to clutch any part of him. There’s nothing but the sound of your gasping breaths, a hiccup and shaking whimper, but still he knows you’re sensitive tonight.

“Still with me?” He cooes with a voice rasped from patrol work, and when you whine, press a palm flat to his chest for some semblance of response he leans forward to tip you over his knees and flat onto the bed.

You gasp and he thinks you’re going to ask him why, but he can only look at you like this– laid out bare, warm exhaustion and half lidded eyes begging up at him– before pressing forward to kiss you. As you reach up to run fingers through his hair, he rocks his messy fingers against the ache inside of you he knows so well, huge flat palm hooking you there and grinding in circles over your clit.

It’s too much and not enough, Shinsou Hitoshi. Don’t get closer, don’t read my mind.

God, tongues folding, teeth clicking, Shinsou always falls apart when you kiss him. Dies a little in fact. He wants to taste more of you before he goes, before you kill him.

“Toshi, don’t–” you choke when the hero pulls away but as he slips farther between your legs, you have to bite your own hand to keep from making any sound someone might hear. Shinsou, with a cheek at your thigh, licks a fat wet strip from the dripping hole his fingers never stop pumping, all the way to a tiny aching bundle of livewires.

“Don’t what?” He breathes into you, freezing every movement. But you can only manage, – don’t stop– from between your fingers before he melts and starts back up again.

It’s a gentle lap first, kitten kisses meant to taste the wettest parts of you, before he hooks his free hand around your thigh and presses heavy under your stomach. The happy dull warmth of his working fingers becomes lighting again as he fucks into the pressure and your hands fly to his hair.

It’s not even a noise you make so much as a broken song. Ragged shallow breaths to stay quiet. Even with your thighs quivering tight against his ears, Shinsou hears your lopsided gasps and knows he should remind you to breathe– but when his fingers pull gently back on the hood of your pulsing bud he can’t do anything but cling to you. Jaw rolling, tongue lapping like a starving man.

You can’t help it. Shinsou hums with joy and tears flood your eyes immediately. Pleasure and exhaustion are going to tip you over the edge too quickly– embarrassingly, flatteringly, fast. Your heart is a comet filled with too many things. It’s impossible to stay still. You press the balls of your feet to his wide shoulders and try not to buck so hard, grinding your hips into a hero that won’t let you go.

Wet rolls down your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose when you tilt your head to muffle the cries that come with a shudder. He can taste how close you are; he’s almost drowning in it. He won’t change a thing. Shinso’s bicep flexes with every curl of his fingers inside of you and he moans with his mouth full, growling subconsciously, at the friction between his clothed cock and the lip of the mattress where he’s sunk inside of you hundreds of times.

“H-Hitoshi–”

Your chest shudders and heaves and there’s not stopping it now. You want to hear him say your name, praise you, pretty girl, but if his tongue stopped now you might burst into tears. You’re halfway there already.

One more hum from him and your weary composure snaps. Heat burst from your chest and melts fuzzy into your fingers, broken vowels off your lips try to form the shapes of his name as you tumble from consciousness and into panting lilting whimpers. He lets you. Usually he’ll kiss you quiet or cover your mouth with his too-big hands and smile as your fucked-out saliva drips between his fingers. Today he only holds you tighter.

Hero work, homework, hospital stays, fear and isolation, love– blurr together in your tears as Shinsou works you down from your high. His grip gives way to something softer like a cradle, and he slowly rises to all fours so he can kiss a sticky path up your stomach.

It’s unspoken but expected, the few minutes you get when one of you is too sensitive, where you’re allowed to pretend you’re in love. This is the best part. Stroking his jaw, kissing his cheeks, twirling his curls with your fingers. Laughing about the state of the bed, falling deadly silent and giggling into each other's eyes when footsteps creak past the door. Stopping just short of I love yous. Not today.

Today you don’t want him to look at you.

“Y/n,” He whispers into your breast when he kisses the valley there, half distracted by his own exhaustion and the fluttering of your pulse under his fingers, “Y/n?”

You’ve brought both arms up to cover your face but no one would be stupid enough to mistake your shudders for pleasure.

Shinsou’s heart plummets, “What’s wrong?” You’re laid out beneath him still catching your breath but the tremble of your lips isn’t fooling him. No more questions, he demands it now just to be safe, “Let me see.”

You’re in no mood to fight, You’re in no state to work, or think, or be in love with him, and when you lower your arms, fat tears roll wellwetted tracks down your cheeks. Shinsou pounces. He’s quick to sit you up but slower to touch you. What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Why wouldn’t you say anything? “Y/n–”

“Felt so good Toshi,” you stutter and after a night of trying to be so quiet you finally let a sob take you. Blood returns to Shinsou’s body and the adrenaline melts into his sheets. He reaches forward to cup your teary cheek with wet fingers as you blubber and whimper and try to curl back in on yourself, not paying much mind to the cum still sticky in his palm.

“Pretty girl,” he smiles wry.

Shinsou tugs your waist gently to guide you into his arms and it doesn’t take much strength. You melt into him.

“so tired, Toshi–”

“I know baby”

“– hands felt so good– I’m– I–” you can’t quite finish the thought as another bout of tears takes over and both you and your hero smile against each other. You, albeit fitfully. You love him. He loves you more. There’s too much to be filled with at all times, and sometimes when you start to cry you just keep finding reasons not to stop.

You want to keep him forever. Only yours, not a national hero, not a symbol of peace, not even the fucking class president. Graduation is coming too quickly– the day you have to wish him luck as a hero and not a sidekick makes you sick. The thought of him getting hurt–

“You’re thinking too hard, I can feel it,” he rumbles, “Thought you were tired?” He wants you to know and hopes you can’t tell, that he can only hear his smile when he talks to you, “Or d'you need me to make you cum again?”

For some reason this makes you moan with heartbreak and Shinsou’s hands shoot up– his eyes go wide with worry, before you groan, “..there’s cum on my face,” and the sobbing starts earnestly again.

The hero’s head falls back in laughter, no longer afraid of disturbing the dorms as you let yourself go against him. Let them find you, let them find him perfectly happy. His sticky fingers draw adoring circles up and down your back.

“m sorry pretty girl,”

“should be,” you cry and whimper and laugh along with him.

How long were you holding it in? How much longer can he?

Shinsou leans back on his hips a bit to rock you gently through your trembling. He knows how much you like his hand on the back of your neck and so he uses his other to pull the blankets up over your shoulders. Warm and rhythmic and perfectly dark in your little piece of the world tonight.

At the edge of tearful sleep his voice rumbles through his chest where your cheek is pressed so soundly, “Can I clean you up?”

You nod, breath coming a bit easier now.

#shinsou x reader #feeling needy let me eat your thoughts #hitoshi shinsou #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #a gentle dom to eat me out until i cry PUH LEASE

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thementalshawty · 5 months

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Who’s Your FS PT. 2

Heyyyyyyyyy happy ‘24!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m back with the awaited pt2 to who’s your FS. Now if I’m guessing most of you saw pt1 and just back here for confirmation or for more information, now for those who are new here hellloooooooooo! This is a shorter version of p1 only I’m using one deck for this reading. @silvershiningtarot gifted me the tea leaf oracle deck so that is what I’ll be using for this reading! Thanks baby!! Now REMEMBER THIS IS A GENERAL READING! Take what resonated and leave the rest for others to take in you want something more personal, you’ll have to purchase a reading from me, or any other great reader on here, mmk? Til then just take what resonates with you in this general reading! Choose an emoji and let’s get started and TAROT IS A SUGGESTIVE METHOD, DO NOT RELY ON ANYONE OR ANYTHING TO MAKE OR DICTATE DECISIONS AND MOVES FOR YOUR LIFE! YOU’RE THE POWER!

P4: 🖤

P5 :💞

P6:🫶🏽

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Pile IV

Your spouses have faced major challenges and obstacles in their lives, they’ve climbed many a mountain basically. They aren’t a weak minded person, they got heart p4 and they’re brave! They’ve faced so much they don’t back down from shit! This person is a survivor, a soldier, a warrior lol! I can’t stop bragging about how strong and fierce they are! They’ve been hit with so much shit and they’ve climbed it, I feel like right now they’re facing yet another major challenge in their lives. There’s rats around them, people that are secretly working against them behind their backs, they’re not even aware of it or who it could be cos they’re so focused on what they’re facing. Poor babies! These are my survival mode babies! They have paranoia, they think everyone is after them most likely, they are afraid of peace cos they don’t trust it, they had to defend themselves their whole lives. “All my life I had to fight.” Maybe they had a color purple kind of life, like Celie, or Sofia, but don’t look at the gender of them, it can be male, female, gender less, this person has been through some shit and they still are needing to defend themselves, don’t feel bad for them tho, they can handle it I feel, they’re hella strong but they shouldn’t have to be going through shit just cos they can handle it or they’re strong you know?? They’re a bit defensive too only cos they always had to defend themselves so they don’t understand the concept of constructive criticism or advice from bullying or trying to tear them down, they never had anything healthy to compare the toxicity too. So be mindful of that. They’re successfully overcoming a problem right now! They always land on top! They are the type to get kicked down but have the last laugh. They cannot be defeated, they lose battles but they WIN WARS! Maybe some of them live over a bridge or live where there’s a famous bridge (golden gate bridge I heard so maybe some of them or you are in cali). This person is a new person entering your life not an ex or someone you have met already, you haven’t met this person, you can possibly know of them, but you didn’t meet yet. They are arrogant and boastful and it’s cos what they went through. They are high! Very cocky they got an ego, and it’s cos whoever or whatever crossed them or tried to cause them harm failed and was destroyed leaving them way better than before. So they feel untouchable. They’ve been grieving some kind of loss, they have sorrowful moments especially when they relive or reminisce about what they went through and lost. They’re starting over and recreating their lives, venturing out into new territory or new methods of life, they’re hella creative and idealistic so they are now coming up with new and impressive ways of going about things. They may like watching the sunrise, could’ve been born at sunrise? They’re an early bird most likely. They’re a king/queen to themselves and they don’t need any validation from anyone! EVER! They persevere and never give up, this is how they overcome issues, they’re not the type to just take shit lying down, they’re a fucking fighter. They have plenty of material things, they have a lot of stuff, I’m not seeing hella wealth but they have plenty of money, they can afford whatever they want in that moment. They’re cocky cos they know they fought for everything they have so they feel they’ve earned the right to be cocky. They have been disappointed by friends and lovers in their lives who I feel have plotted behind their backs, it’s almost like I’m getting the rise of Tony Montana from Scarface, maybe they like that movie, they have a nice house and nice shit in their homes (random). They’re over thinkers, I told you they’re paranoid, they think that everything may crash and burn and they will have to struggle again like they’re used to but they are getting better and better each challenge or obstacle. I think that they’re bigger than you, some of them are tall, heavier, curvy, just bigger than you some in height some in weight. They are coming out of their cocoon a butterfly they are going through

Yet another transition and transformation, it’s for the better they are going to emerge from this so much better, stronger and more abundant I feel, I think that they always end up financially secure or blessed after every challenge they end up gaining some money that’s why they have so much shit I feel, they love to celebrate themselves. They are a happy go lucky type of person because they have been through shit and they have won every single war they’ve been in so they feel like they’re blessed and have good luck, others may gossip and say that they’re a lucky person but they’re really just good like that! They deserve their position in life, I promise you they do!

💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Pile V

Happiness is important to this person. This is the type of person where money doesn’t matter to them. They just want to do what makes them the happiest, not that they aren’t taken care of financially, but they aren’t a shallow or materialistic individual. They love standing in the sun, they probably laugh loud and proud they are one of the happiest people you’ll ever meet in your life, they hate being upset or angry, it takes a lot to make them mad I feel. They have built a nest for themselves, they have a cozy home I feel, they are filled with so much love, they’re emotionally secure and they come from a loving family, or they want to create a loving and emotionally secure family. They definitely want kids, family is important to them which is why I think they were indeed brought up in a loving home at least some of them did, very warm and fuzzy person. They believe in love and happiness they believe love will bring them true happiness! I love them! They have a two faced friend in their life right now tho, this person around them is a fake ass person being fake but they only see the one face right now, idk if they don’t wanna face it or they genuinely don’t know about this person but they have a fake ass friend amongst them P5. They can be a cat person, they can even feed the birds or have a bird house at their house, you know what I feel too, they have one of those fountains for the birds outside their house, a family of birds could live outside their house. They have great fortune, like I said they are taken care of financially, I feel like because they don’t chase money like how everyone else is so obsessed with the bag, they’re not which is why money and fortune finds them simply they don’t chase anything but their happiness honestly. They are a very blessed person, a human four leaf clover 🍀! You’ll feel blessed around them too, maybe some of them are born in march, I do get wager sign vibes from this deck. Their skin is on the darker side, especially if you’re looking for a wife she’s got a darker complexion than you or her hair! It can also be their mom, or sister only because family is hella important so is their culture too, I feel some of you guys share the same culture others differ but even the ones that share the same culture you may not be into it as deep as they are they are devout to their culture and family. They may have gotten their money through inheritance, or winning something it could’ve even been some kind of windfall either way it came to them very naturally and it was like a stroke of luck or a blessing they are wealthy, they could’ve even inherited a beautiful piece of property. Something wealthy and grand they have! Money or some grand property. They are protected from negative forces, their guides and ancestors don’t play with them, anything negative that comes their way doesn’t affect them directly or heavily! They’re blessed frfr, truly lucky person! I’m happy for this person! Fuck that fake ass friend tho. P5 you gotta winner here! They may own a boat, 🛥️ yacht? This pile I’m getting old money vibes, wealth, old Victorian homes and castles type of background with this person. Idk. I see that because this person is so blessed and rarely sees any negativity, they aren’t very used to being told anything less than great, they need to learn how to accept valid criticism, I feel they feel anyone telling them anything less than satisfactory is a hater. They don’t want their happiness interfered with. I feel like there is some criticism that they need to listen to. So they have some downfalls in this person. Some of them could’ve been born rich. I feel like they are spoiled, the silver spoon ones. They are only used to having the best so anything less is not what they pay attention too. Others I feel they inherited money but before they did they accepted the fact that things suck sometimes so when anyone come to them with it they try to brush it off cos they know life sucks sometimes but they pay no mind to it which is a high vibe but also low too. They’re a fucking soaring 🦅 EAGLE! They

faced obstacles, struggles and troubles and they triumphed over it, beautifully, so they may be spoiled but they are strong and resilient! They will handle what they need too! Eagle could be a bird they love or I’m hearing maybe some of them have an eagle tatted. This fake ass friend I feel like they are undependable and insincere but they make excuses for them, only to avoid facing an issue, this may be a family friend? I feel there’s a hesitation to cut this person off, this person your spouse cannot depend on yet…….. that person still around I bet. Ugh! 😩! Your person needs to stop being so nice, they are sweet as fuck and I feel this person uses the family and your person. They are the type to get warnings ahead of time, whether it be their intuition or an actual person warning them but I feel like they always get the heads up! They are about to face a problem in the near future if they’re not facing nothing now. Some of you will be dealing with a person with white, blonde, or gray hair, some could dye it, some older, shit some is both! They’re the type of come from the families of legacies, like fashion companies, hotels, inventions, etc. They could have been next in line? I feel like with others who gained the wealth I feel like they worked but it came rather quickly, your spouse found what they loved and made millions off it. This pile is a lot about their possessions because even the next card is letting you know that right now they are increasing in material wealth right now, spiritual growth as well, which why I feel like this fake ass friend will be seeing the door soon this year! They could’ve had a goldfish as a pet or they do right now (Random). They love to vacation and take time away from everything. They’re a traveler! They are the type to drop everything and go to the fuccin Mykonos or Fiji just cos they can! They are extremely wealthy! Billionaire status to some of them I feel the ones that come from money in their family. Others they are millionaires or damn near close asfcc they could be on vacation right now, or they’re in desperate need of one.

🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

Pile VI

They are highly praised and thought of, this may be the fame pile and nah not entertainment celebrity but a celebrity in their fields. They’re know as probably gods/goddesses in their field of work. They’re very loved and adored by many, they have lots of fans and people throwing themselves at them. They’re very loved! 🥰 Love is hella important to them. They want to love so much! They search for true love, they may wear bows in their hair, remember bows are just accessories for any gender!!! They could be born in November or you may meet them around that time. I feel like Thanksgiving may be important to them too, they may love helping others, volunteering, I am hearing turkey drives. This is your true love by the way P6. They are in some trouble right now or have gotten into some trouble, either they were making accusations or someone was making accusations against them. I feel they’re in the hot seat at the moment or they’re putting someone else in the hot seat. I feel like it’s the first one, lots of people may be jealous of their fame, success so they’re doing anything they can to make them fall and suffer, lose that credibility. They feel like something is lacking in their life, I feel like it’s love but it can be anything, from money or goals, they just feel like they’re lacking something in their lives. They also I feel keep their emotions tucked in a barrel, I’m hearing some shit about image so maybe that’s how they move, they move the way they think they should to keep the fame. Opportunities are waiting for them at the door, opportunities that they create for themselves. Great businessmen/women! They handle the shit right! I’m not sure if they have a lot of money I don’t think they do I think they have a lot of fame, and notoriety but I don’t feel like they are rich or wealthy enough yet, they aren’t struggling they’re building up but they’re not where they want to be right now. They are about to have an exciting event that I feel will bring them in everything that they want. I feel like you guys may meet an exciting event. I feel like they may have a gong or like the sound of them ? (Random). They will be successful that’s guaranteed I’m seeing, they took their time, planned right and worked their fucking asses off they will be hella successful this year !!! This is a NEW PERSON! You don’t know them, you haven’t met them, like p4 you could’ve heard of them but you haven’t met them yet, this person hasn’t entered your life yet but they will, I think this year!!!! As soon as I said that a month card came out man!!! May!!!! They can be a Taurus, or Gemini, Scorpio or Sagittarius. They hella sensual. They may like to eat! You may meet in May. They have flopped a few times coming up in their lives, they’ve tried many different approaches and ways and have been unsuccessful. They didn’t give up they kept going and told themselves that they would be better next time and they were going to make it! They’re very focused i am getting earth sign energy major Capricorn energy especially! They are very poetic. Some of them are writers, or write with quill. 🪶. They are so creative and they are getting the start they deserve, they just want to make it, they just want to make it in what they love and continue getting the love for it, I honestly hope they do. Things are going to change for the better for them, they will make it and be successful and they will be triumphant and whatever they are facing in life. They are a bit arrogant and boastful, they aren’t a dick but they’re very egotistical and they don’t play about what they have, don’t cross these people either I feel like bad karma happens to those who cross your spouses, hella protected in the spirit world and I feel they know that and that’s why they are so cocky well a part of it, they are loud and they are goin to be heard no matter what, they show off too, I’m telling you major Capricorn vibes, this person is on their way to becoming CEO’s and Bosses this year yahhhhhh!

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Well thanks for tuning in!

Happy fuccin new years🎉

Get ready for the new year it’ll be killer!

Up’s and down’s but you’re a lot further than you were before so don’t forget it!!

I hope you enjoyed the reading and it brought you confirmation and clarity. TRY NOT TO COMMENT ANY THING ABOUT WHAT YOU READ! Some people look at the comments and are swayed to choose a certain pile based on someone else’s confirmation so please! If you have anything you want to say dm me, send in an ask, please try to comment only your feelings about the reading not any revealing information if that makes sense! Thanks babessss!

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