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bonny-kookoo · 7 months

Text

Jungkook

TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby

Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?

Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes

Length: uuuh long idk

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

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Strawberry milk is your favorite.

It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.

But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.

It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.

But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.

And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.

Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.

You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.

Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.

You can't do this, fuck that.

You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.

He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.

That is, until he smiles at you-

and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.

"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.

"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.

"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.

But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-

though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.

A smile that's just.. genuine.

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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.

"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.

As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.

"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.

"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.

"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.

"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.

"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?

"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.

"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."

"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.

"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."

"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.

"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-

and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.

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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.

"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.

"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.

"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.

"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.

And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.

"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-

That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.

He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.

"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.

"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.

"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.

"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.

Fuckboy? Relationship?

Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.

You're easy.

"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.

The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.

You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.

He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.

"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.

"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.

"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.

"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.

"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.

"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.

"Then that's your choice." He nods.

"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.

"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.

"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."

"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.

"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.

"I don't know." You answer honestly.

"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.

"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.

"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-

Eager to show you that he's the one for you.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #werewolf jungkook

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lacedinweb22 · 6 months

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Seven Minutes in Heaven ♱☽🦇☾♱

Miguel O'Hara x reader ♱ (A Halloween special) Vampire Next Door (ch.7) prev part nsfw 18+

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

There’s a knock at your door. You fix your hair in the mirror then rush to leave.

There he is,

dressed up as a vampire.

He’s wearing a beautiful vintage, tailored suit. His waves are tamed back. He has a bit of fake blood dripping from his bottom lip to his jaw then down to his neck. He really committed to the part.

You discussed costume ideas a few days before the party. You came up with the idea of dressing up as gothic style vampires; you’d been watching vampire romances all week, though you left that part out. Miguel was hesitant at first, said it would be too flashy, but after you showed him your pinterest board, and some whining and convincing, he agreed.

You’ve got the look down: a long, black vintage dress, fake blood around your lips, chin, and down your arms, jewelry adorning your collarbones, and fangs you’ve glued onto your canines.

Your dress hugs you in all the right places. Your bust is bursting, practically spilling out of the bodice. It accentuates your curves, tightly hugging your waist and hips. You look and you feel the best you’ve felt in a really long time.

Seeing Miguel like this, at your door, makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild. You never thought he’d see you like this, so grown up, blossomed, and beautiful. And you never thought you’d see him like this.

Your eyes meet, then part, as they explore each other’s figures. He quickly looks back up, keeping a straight face, like he didn’t just gulp at the sight of your curves.

“This hot vamp look really suits you.”

“Hot?”

He furrows his brows and smiles, exposing his fangs, as he slides a hand over his waves.

“Wait, your fangs… I’m impressed.”

“A vampire needs a good pair of fangs. I’m not an idiot.”

“I’m learning that…” you mutter looking him up and down.

****

Miguel introduces you to your floor neighbors, in a way that makes you feel like you're his. You look like you belong to each other, but you push those thoughts away. He was kind enough to welcome you and introduce you to his friends. You’re neighbors. Friendly neighbors.

Your neighbors welcome you, you have multiple small-talk conversations, and most of them ask how you know Miguel. You both say you’re neighbors who’ve just met a few days ago. You’re both liars.

Alicia, the host of the party, calls him out for not attending more of their get-togethers, and he promises he’ll come out more often, as he turns to look at you.

You all start the night off with one shot of tequila then disperse through her apartment.

You and Alicia click, as Miguel stands by sipping at a mixed something, listening, and secretly laughing at your tangents.

After a bit, you both end up alone at the kitchen counter.

“I think I want to drink a lot tonight. I need it.”

He nods slowly, trying to read your face as he sips his drink.

“If that’s what you want, okay. I’ll drink with you.”

He pours you another shot. You cheers then both down it. You wince at the aftertaste, then look up at an unfazed Miguel.

The music progressively gets louder as the apartment becomes more full. You move to the rhythm, barely dancing, not drunk enough to let him witness it. Miguel smiles, sipping at his drink, leaning against the counter.

“You know what? You’re like four times my size. You’re going to need to drink four times what I drink to feel anything,” you slur, clinging onto his wrist for balance.

“Mhmm, okay,” he chuckles, looking down at your hand on his wrist. You’re too tipsy to pull away. His warm skin feels too good, you feel glued to him. He smiles, pouring two more shots into a red cup.

He drinks, lifting his chin up, his jawline advertised as he swallows the hard liquor.

“It’s been thirty minutes. I want another.” You slide your shot glass to him.

He grabs the liter of strawberry soda on the counter and starts to pour it into a red cup.

“This should help with the taste.”

He adds a shot into the soda.

“So kind, such a gentleman,” you slur, taking the drink from his hand.

“Truth or dare!” one of your neighbors yell. Everyone gathers, drunk and stumbling to sit on the floor and on the couch, forming a circle in the living room.

After half of the circle takes their turn, it’s your turn.

“Truth or dare,” Alicia asks you.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to play seven minutes in heaven with Miguel,” she shrugs.

“Seven minutes– Is this fucking high school?” Miguel mutters rolling his eyes.

“Okay, Y/N, sorry. You’re going to have to take another shot.”

You’re fucked up. Another shot is going to destroy you.

“Shut up, okay? Mierda. Come on, Y/N,” he mutters as he stands up. He reaches both hands down to you, then helps you up. You stumble, as he grabs your hand and leads you to the closet down the hallway.

You both enter the closet; Miguel leaves the door open a crack, allowing the purple light to illuminate the side of his face. The speakers begin to blast music again in the living room. It bleeds into the dark closet.

You laugh at how drunk you are, and at the situation, then look up at Miguel. His concern is obvious, but it fades a bit when your eyes meet.

“I was too sober to say it earlier, but you look… divine,” he confesses.

“Wow, that’s… you can’t do that to me. Not now,” you laugh, looking down, shaking your head. You avoid eye contact.

You’ve dreamt about moments like this since university. About being this close to him, about him saying romantic things like this, but you’re drunk, and you don’t believe him.

“I mean it,” he adds, leaning down to catch your eyes.

“You look really good too. So handsome,” you breathe out. You cover your eyes. That took a lot.

“Yeah? You think I’m handsome?” he asks, drawing closer.

He gently pulls your hands off of your face.

You look up at him.

His cheeks are pink, flushed from the alcohol, his hair is less tame than it was when you got here, and his crimson eyes are radiant, even in the dark.

“Miguel,” you exhale.

“Y/N,” he says, smoothly, deep, pretty on his tongue.

You grasp onto his suit jacket, pulling him into you.

He strokes your cheek, then combs his fingers through your hair, pushing it out of your face.

You stare into each other’s eyes, then his eyes wander down to your lips.

You tilt your face up and he leans down.

You kiss.

It’s heated, drunk, wet, and addictive.

It intensifies as he slowly presses you up against the wall, your lips still glued to each other.

His lips detach, his kisses trailing down to your neck.

“Y/N,” he breathes against your skin.

“I know you remember me,” he mutters into your neck.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“English 150A. I know you remember.”

“I didn’t realize you did.”

“You’re hard to forget.”

You pull him back in for a kiss, shutting him up. It’s drunk and passionate. Your cheeks burn hot.

His fangs are razor-sharp; you’re too drunk to realize when they cause you pain.

You pull away, then reach your hand up to his lips.

“Can I?”

He obeys, looking down at you with drowsy eyes.

You stroke his fangs. They’re hyper realistic. If you applied a bit more pressure, they would puncture the tip of your finger.

“Why are they so sharp? Mine aren’t that sharp. Where did you get them?”

“Doesn’t matter. They were expensive though,” he shrugs, allowing you to continue touching his lips with your thumb.

“Miguel, these could actually cut me.”

You reach back to his fangs, before he gently pulls your hand away.

“Here, I’ll do it,”

He grazes his own fingertip on his fang, drawing blood.

“Miguel, stop,” you squeal, yanking his hand away from his mouth.

He laughs, showing you the blood. He’s too drunk to read the concern on your face and you’re too drunk to realize it’s not that serious.

“It’s like a paper cut, Y/N,” he reasons, sucking the blood off his finger.

“You’re annoying. I’m not staying here and entertaining this.” You reach for the closet door. He grabs your wrist. You turn to look up at him.

“Come on, Boots, I was just showing you,”

“What? What did you just call me?”

“Boots. You wore those red rain boots that week of the storm. I thought they were cute, and it just stuck with me,” he says, shrugging it off.

“You really do remember me. Okay, we’re doing this… wait, you’re a science boy, what were you doing TA-ing for an English course?”

“Hm yeah, it was a favor for Professor Reyes,”

“Favor for what?”

“I’m too drunk to talk about this right now,” he groans, throwing his head back.

“Okay,” you nod, leaning only your back against the wall.

He looks up at you, then slowly approaches you.

“We still have like four minutes left,” you sigh.

“Four minutes. I can work with that,” he smirks, towering over you.

Then he’s kissing you, hands on your waist, holding you against his body. Again, he’s pressing you up against the wall.

His leg is in between your legs, as you lean back.

You squeeze his tricep, encouraging the pressure he’s applying all over you.

“You’re so warm, and god, you’re so beautiful,” he grumbles into your lips.

You feel it, something pressing into your thigh, against your dress.

The butterflies in your stomach intensify. You feel hot all over. You’re drunk and you want him and he’s right here and he wants you too.

“I want you,” you moan into his mouth.

“Yeah?” he whispers, trailing his lips down to your neck, sucking gently.

“Harder,” you encourage, enjoying yourself a little too much.

You comb your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly.

He squeezes your thigh, holding you tight against his leg.

He sucks harder; you feel his fangs brush against your skin.

You moan, pulling his hips into yours. He grips your waist tighter. If you weren’t wearing this dress, his fingerprints would be bruised into you. He hangs his head on your shoulder, quietly moaning into your skin, before bruising you again.

He restrains himself.

“Now bite me,”

He pulls his face from your neck.

“Y/N,” he says, head tilted, face drowsy, hair tousled.

“It’s gonna hurt,” he shakes his head, his eyes glued to your lips.

You pull him down for a kiss.

The music stops.

“Seven minutes up!” they yell, clapping.

You pull away from each other. You try to catch your breath.

You fix your hair, bring it forward to cover your neck, wipe around your lips, and look up at Miguel, who’s brushing his hair back and straightening out his suit.

You walk out of the closet and join the circle once again.

“How were the seven minutes? How was the sex?” they tease.

“We just talked,” you slur, shrugging, suppressing your smile.

“Miguel?” they press on.

“We just talked. You heard her,” he defends, eyebrows furrowed at their doubt.

They move on to their next victim.

You turn to each other. Your eyes meet then break.

The night goes on.

⋆♱✮☽🎃☾✮♰⋆

Happy Halloween 🧛🏼‍♀️

-G ⋆୨୧˚

ch.8 here

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archangeldyke-all · 5 months

Text

masterlist 2!

so apparently u can only imbed 100 links per post, so here's my second masterlist haha!

slow living with sev

helping sevika workout

distracting professor sevika from grading

sevika naming your tits

christmas with sev

masc reader strapping sevika for the first time

scrawny reader winning a fight with sev

watching jeopardy with sev

sevika taking care of u in a depressive spell

sev and drunk reader

princess reader and knight sevika

cowboy sevika!!! 🤠

p.2 slow living with sev

sevika and reader's dogs cause a meet cute 🐕

how sevika proposes

bully sevika

wrapping presents for sevika

trying to have angry sex as a married couple

sevika sucking strap

sex store shopping with sev

the glitter incident

chubby reader!

reader who loves makeup

reader w/ body hair

short reader

sevika squirting again hehe

butch trucker sev

first time u fall asleep on sev

growing old with sev

dairy farmer sev x strawberry farmer reader

godmother sev x kindergarten teacher

amab ceo sev 💼

how u and ceo sev got together💼

nut video with sound? 💼

sev on her period :(

sev on anesthesia

out of pocket reader

getting pregnant with sev :,) 👶

sevika overstimulating and tying u up

sevika mindlessly groping u

happy chubby reader

waking sev up

subtop sevika begging 💼

scardey cat reader

butch4butch gym couple

reader w/ top surgery

synced period w/ sev

how sev reacts when ur hurt

flasing sev on facetime

cowboy sevika's family grows 🤠

asexual reader

touchstarved overthinking reader

cowboy sev smut ;) 🤠

farmer couple smut

finding a missing slayer :,) 🐕

finn's little sister reader

playing uno with the gang

list of quick blurbs

slayer being sev's wingdog 🐕

tailor reader

pussy spanking ;)

nsfw alphabet

sev's fanny pack strap asdfjsaljdf

pussy spanking ft. squirting

how sev talks to your baby 👶

sev w/ a plushy

ran and sev and reader throuple

how she tells silco about reader

cowboy sev adopting the girls 🤠

sevika warming up to kids 👶

sev during your labor and delivery 👶

finn cockblocking u and sev lmaoo

save a horse, ride a cowboy 🤠

PT reader/boxer sev pt. 2

another list of blurbs

sev w/ nail artist gf

slayer in the snow lmaoooo 🐕

sev w/ your kid from a previous relationship 👶

cowboy sev and reader jailbreak the girls🤠

sevika's kid eating crayons 👶

sevika hates scary movies

painter reader/muse sev

sevika's ass and how much we love it

how she dances

sevika after you have a nightmare

how she reacts to dustin licking reader

taking her skating

little slayer at work with sev 🐕

sev and a black vampire reader! 🦇

painfully obvious crushing reader

sev and slayer's typical convos 🐕

sevika lactation kink hehehe

black vamp and sev's relationship hcs 🦇

discovering her breeding kink

talkative reader who's shy around sev

pussywhipped sev

black vamp reader's little friend 🦇

sev comforting reader w/ hairloss

roach verse groupchat

switch sev and switch reader

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika #sevika smut #sevika imagine

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stealanity · 2 months

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playlist one , the boyz ( cch to src ) :

⠀

ꕤ choi chanhee ,

the so-called boyfriend ( smau , hiatus )

better

yarrow

cry for me

strawberry flavor

⠀

[ 8:42pm ]

[ 10:42pm ]

[ 11:12pm ]

[ 5:25am ]

⠀

ꕤ ji changmin ,

you did well

lying eyes

first love

dream of you

dream of you ( part two )

⠀

[ 10:32pm ]

[ 2:24am ]

[ 6:17am ]

[ 6:14pm ]

⠀

ꕤ ju haknyeon ,

our secret little date

⠀

[ 12:24pm ]

[ 8:23pm ]

[ 9:36pm ]

⠀

ꕤ kim sunwoo ,

color palette ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. eric , written serie , discontinued )

you're save

late night kiss

a to z being your boyfriend

old toy

new toy

ghost train

just friends

easier

unashamedly

⠀

[ 3:47am ]

[ 3:45am ]

[ 9:45pm ]

[ 6:38pm ]

[ 11:57pm ]

[ 11:25pm ]

⠀

ꕤ sohn eric ,

endless race ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. sunwoo , written serie , discontinued )

age of love

broken night

never be you

roulette to your heart

because of you

black hair & red lipstick

all over

one bed

birthday present(s)

⠀

[ 3:22pm ]

[ 2:56pm ]

[ 2:24pm ]

[ 2:04am ]

⠀

ꕤ ot-eleven ,

sorry, for breaking your heart ( written serie , hiatus )

kiss or kill? ( one shot )

the boyz as the vamps' songs

october 19 : international kiss your crush day

kiss their s/o for the first time

their s/o asking them for one last kiss

their s/o having a habit of sitting on their lap

their s/o being drunk

their s/o cutting their hair short

their s/o holding hands when they're anxious / clingy

their crush not being touchy

always having an extra scrunchie for their s/o

watching a horror movie with their s/o

sharing a bed with their s/o for the first time

accidently outing their relationship on vlive

⠀

. . . link to hyung line !

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steddiemicrofic · 7 months

Text

Steddie Microfic September 16th-22nd Masterlist

How charming! Here's week 3's submissions!

Yours To Claim by @rindecision | Rated M | no cw

Life Changes by @zombiethingy | Rated G | cw: accidental outing | tags: coming outs, Steve & Robin & Eddie

Wildfire by @fastcardotmp3 | Rated M | cw: off-screen murder, arson | tags: witch!eddie, firefighter!steve, vaguely 'practical magic' inspired

Once In A Lifetime by @steddieasitgoes | Rated G | no cw

Grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire by @sidekick-hero | Rated E | cw: vampire!steve, bloodsucking, dub-con

like a moth to a flame pt. 1 by @stobinesque | Rated T | cw: Implied compulsion | tags: Implied vamp Steve, strangers to lovers

Summoned by @aidaronan | Rated G | cw: off screen mentions of death/loss | tags: Kas!Eddie, practical magic

untitled by @wingedquill | Rated T | cw: non-terminal cancer

like a moth to the flame pt. 2 by @stobinesque | Rated E | cw: sex compulsion, dubious consent, blood, honorifics | tags: Vampire Steve, Transmasc Eddie, vaginal sex

Love, oh love by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation | Rated M | cw: some sexual innuendo, excessive use of British English

of strangers and chasers by @sailing-through-hawkins | Rated T | no cw | tags: cowboy au, wandering newcomers stobin

no better version i could pretend to be tonight by @thefreakandthehair | Rated M | cw: eddie munson's near-death experience, description of panic attack/nightmare

For Luck by @redlegumes | Rated G | no cw | tags: first kiss, good luck charm

drag me under by @matchingbatbites | Rated T | cw: creature!Eddie, possessive behavior, compulsion, ambiguous ending

i can take you higher by @cranberrymoons | Rated T | cw: smoking | tags: post season 2, mild hurt/comfort, touch-starved steve

once upon a dream by @sailing-through-hawkins | Rated T | no cw | tags: fairytale au, knight eddie, evil prince steve

untitled by @wingedquill | Rated T | cw: non-terminal cancer

death says hello by @sailing-through-hawkins | Rated T | cw: temporary main character death | tags: supernatural vibes

That magic of yours by @cxwzkeys | Rated G | no cw

strawberries & lemonade by @a-little-unsteddie | Rated T | no cw

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddiemicroficseptember #masterlist

72 notes · View notes

lucretiaslitthenetherland · 11 months

Text

This would be a good stress toy for me.

#stress toys #strawberry vamp #strawberry vamp girl #strawberry #strawberry girl #fidget toys #stimming #actually autistic

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thatstonedwriter · 7 months

Text

Vamped Up

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Content; brief mentions of blood, swearing, platonic relationships, vampirism, gender neutral, no pronouns

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Loona didn't think she'd get lucky enough to meet an actual vampire.. And then she met you

She thinks you're so fucking cool. How could she not? She lives for these kinds of aesthetics

Granted, being a vampire doesn't mean you automatically have a goth aesthetic. Hear me out- strawberry cottage core vamps, norm core vamps, camp vamps, etc. I hope I've made my point

Loona is jealous of your ability to shapeshift- not only is it super convenient, its literally the most gender-affirming super power that exists

I would imagine Loona doesn't have a problem with blood. So of course, she has her.. Ways.. Of acquiring it for you, should you need it

It's very likely y'all spend your nights together, doing anything you want

Pranks. Oh my god, the capacity for pranks. That, of course, are almost always pulled on either Moxxie or Blitzø

Loona's least favorite part of vampirism is the fact she can't take pictures with her best friend. Instead, she unfortunately has to rely on Blitzø's "artistic" renditions of your moments together (they're expressive, okay?)

As much as it seems like Loona doesn't care about anything, when it comes to her friends and family, details are very important. That means any aversions to food, or items of clothing you need to protect yourself from sunlight are always taken into consideration

At this point, her trivia knowledge about you (and vampirism in general) is quite extensive

Regardless of the type of relationship you have (unless she sees you like a sibling), Loona finds your fangs very attractive. Listen, listen. Fangs. I will not elaborate. She'll hype you the fuck up, too

The two of you have heightened senses so literally nothing gets by you. So Blitzø has a hard time stalking y'all. Whoops

#helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #loona helluva boss #loona x reader #helluva boss headcanon #request #vampirism #gender neutral y/n #writings.onthe.wall

55 notes · View notes

moonchildstyles · 2 years

Note

vamp h taking care of (y/n) when shes sick?:(

Hello! Love your writing and I can honestly say I've read it multiple times. What would Vampire!H do if Y/N gets ill, nothing serious but I'm curious how would he react and how would he take care of her .

can you do a chiaroscuro! harry where y/n is sick with stomach flu and he takes care of her? lots of fluff please 🥺

wordcount: 12.5k+

—————

"You are sure you don't want to come with me, m'love?"

The fresh, bright green of Harry's eyes were clear as they focused on her. A tight furrow pinched his brows in the middle, adding to the concern swimming in his gaze. Despite sitting on the edge of their shared bed, fully dressed for the day with his packed bags sitting by the front door downstairs, he was reluctant to set out on the trip (Y/N) had told him days ago she was opting out of.

She understood where he was coming from, why he was so worried about crossing over to Italy without her by his side—she really did. Traveling without each other was something that never happened anymore, not after that first time she had visited her family and came home to a starving vampire. Not only was that outcome something they avoided a replay of at all costs, but spending time without one another, over oceans and miles apart, hurt and tugged at parts of their soul that hadn't existed before finding one another.

But, (Y/N) was sure her legs would give out if she tried to get out of bed right now.

This month had already been travel heavy, Harry whisking her away to Italy from the jump, stashing her away in their villa for a couple of weeks full of sunbathing and eating the strawberries he had been obsessed with since spring had sprung. (He'd been trying his hand at making crepes, his versions always stuffed full of the sweetest fruits, and—if he was feeling particularly giving that day—chocolate). While it was a relaxing time—(Y/N) spending her time in the sun during the morning hours while Harry worked before retreating back to the villa to spend the rest of the afternoon with her love, exquisite dinners and sweet wines always on the agenda—traveling was still traveling and it exhausted her to a degree. On the flight home even, as she was pressed into Harry's cool side, his fingers dipping through her hair and arranging the strands soothingly, he had shared with her that a trip to France was slated at the end of the month—only a little less than two weeks away—to take a look at a chateau he'd had his eye on. Another home he wanted to make for her, he had said.

Then, in the middle of it all, he told her, only days after returning home, that he needed to head back to Italy for the weekend for a consultation with a client who was interested in procuring a specific collection of Titian paintings. If not for the high price point and the unwillingness from the collector to speak to anyone that wasn't the reclusive Mr. Styles himself, in person, Harry wouldn't have even agreed to the meeting. But, he was insistent on this meeting being a one time thing with a single offer before he was out the door and resuming his time with (Y/N).

Normally, she would have been more than happy to accompany him on this trip. Harry always told her he made better deals with his brokering business when she was close by, not to mention the fact she was his muse for his own art that only increased in value with every exhibition he relented in joining. But, hearing his proposal when she still hadn't even properly washed her hair yet in her own bathroom, made her exhausted just thinking about getting on another plane. Even if it was a private jet.

That's how she found herself bundled in their shared bed, Harry hovering over her with a hint of pleading in his gaze as he stroked her hair out of her face. He was set to be on the tarmac, boarding the jet, in a little more than an hour, but he hadn't made any move to leave despite the ticking clock the second he noticed (Y/N) was awake.

"I'm sure, H, really," she murmured, voice soft from sleep. While she was happy to be able to see him off, being awoken before her body's natural alarm had sparked the beginnings of a headache behind her eyes, urging (Y/N) to get back to bed the second she could.

A heavy sigh was exhaled through Harry's nose as his lips fell into a hard line. His gaze flitted over her face and down her neck as if he were taking stock of each of her features, an inventory sheet budding in his head that he was going to match to what he found when he came home in a few days. "I hate leaving you. I spent centuries without you already, how am I supposed to go without y'once more?"

(Y/N)'s mouth ticked at the corners at the melodrama in his voice. He was like this even if she decided to spend her afternoon in the library instead of keeping him company as he baked in the kitchen. "You're going to be fine, H. You can call me whenever, and I'll be waiting right here for you when you get home," she told him, words a soft whisper shared in the dark of their bedroom, "Try to sleep some if it gets too hard—it'll make the time go by faster. I know that's what I'll be doing."

Though the furrow of his brow never lessened, his lips tugged into a pout as his gaze dropped to the steady pulse in her neck. "Are you going to dream of me?"

Taking her arm out from under the warm confines of the blankets surrounding her form, (Y/N) grabbed at the cool hand now cradling the side of her neck. In lazy motions, she brought the inside of his wrist to her lips where she pressed a warm kiss to where she should have felt a gentle pulse. "I always do, you know that."

The corners of his mouth quirked despite his best efforts at keeping his contentment at bay, the pinch in his brow loosening with the beginnings of his dimples denting into his cheeks. "Pleasant dreams, right? Never a nightmare?" he prompted as if he wasn't there every night, well aware of whether or not she was sleeping soundly.

"Never," she agreed, a slight shake of her head ruffling her hair against her pillow as she slipped her fingers between his in a gentle hold, "You'll text me when you land?"

He sighed in defeat at the confirmation that she really wasn't going to be accompanying him. "I will call you."

The idea of falling asleep again only to be woken up with the sound of Harry's voice being the first thing to greet her pulled a happy smile onto her features.

"I love you, petal," Harry murmured, curling his body forward and dipping his head to press a kiss to her forehead, "Please, please stay safe and call me if y'need anything. If y'cannot reach me, please call Niall."

"I love you, too, H," she smiled, tipping her head just enough to press her lips against the underside of his chin, "Everything's going to be okay, don't worry so much."

If not for the feel of her lips against his skin, (Y/N) knew Harry would be frowning. Instead he exhaled an unnecessary sigh out of his nose, a slight shake of his head following. (Y/N) let out her own breathy laugh at him, knowing how he practically existed to worry and fuss over her.

A buzz from Harry's phone pulled him to check the alarm notification, a memo urging him to leave now as to keep to the strict timetable he was working on for this excursion. This time he really did frown when he peeked back at (Y/N) through his lashes, a fallen swoop of a curl landing on his forehead before he ran a cool hand through his hair. "I've got to go, but I will be home before the weekend is over, petal. I know I fuss too much over you, but please humor me."

As much as (Y/N) wanted to tease him, poke fun at the worry wart tendencies that took over when it came to her, she knew this trip was hard on him already and he hadn't even left yet. Biting back her smile, she cradled his cheeks in her palms, warming his cool skin, and tugging his head down. Sealing their lips together in a short kiss, she allowed herself to indulge in the clean taste of Harry's mouth before he'd be off for the next four days.

"I promise, okay, H?" she murmured, her lips brushing over his as she spoke.

He didn't bother to answer before he kissed her again, more ardently than her own innocent peck. He leaned into her with his lips slotting between hers, carefully cradling her bottom lip between his two. The tip of his nose skimmed the side of her own as he tilted his head, burrowing closer and closer to her. It was when (Y/N) breathed into his mouth, the budding ache in her head forgotten, that Harry pulled away, his eyes closed and brows scrunched as he rested his forehead on hers.

"'M going to cancel, I don't need to leave you," he mumbled, voice rocky and deep, "Everything I need is right here."

A quiet smile made its way onto her mouth, her fingertips inching into the baby curls bordering his hairline. "No, you need to go. The faster you take care of this, the faster you can come home to me, right?"

Harry seemed defeated by her logic as he sighed, the exhale fanning over (Y/N)'s skin. "You're right, petal," he relented.

After offering one last kiss to the soft of her mouth, Harry pulled away, taking care to put space between them as he stood from the seat he took on the mattress, so as to not get sucked back in and cancel his flight.

With a stiff back and reluctance, Harry trailed to the bedroom door, leaving (Y/N) to follow him with her eyes. As much as she was displaying a calm demeanor with the urge to poke at him over his melodrama, her heart ached watching him move farther and farther away from her. She would miss him with everything in her soul, and she wouldn't be surprised if she found that the headache slowly sharpening behind her eyes was a result of dreading his departure. But, as much as Harry was the protector between the two of them, in this moment, she knew she needed to be the stronger one.

"I love you, Harry," she called after him, pushing down the tufts of the bedding around her so he could get a clear glimpse at the tender smile on her lips.

He paused in the doorway, a pinch in his brow through his eyes were soft and hesitant. "I love you, too, petal. I will be home soon."

For the first time she'd ever seen, his steps faltered as he fought to tear his gaze from her, before he blurred out of the hallway too fast for her to catch. She listened for the next few moments as the heavy door to the manor was slammed closed and the crunching of gravel under the tires of whatever car he chose to take for the day echoed from outside. He'd left.

Sinking into the mattress, (Y/N) stared at the canopy draped over their bed, the netting giving her an obstructed view of the painted ceiling above her. It'd been a long, long while since she'd been inside the manor by herself—not since before their first excursion to Italy had she been the only one wrapped up in her bedsheets, listening to the creaks and aches of the old house and the tinkling of the growing garden outside.

She missed him already.

The hollowness growing under her breastbone did little to curb the ache in her head, if only intensifying it. She knew there would be repercussions to go along with the distance they were putting between each other, but she'd never experienced the onset of those consequences so quickly—usually taking at least a day or two to really rear its head before she ached to sleep if only to dream of him. Nonetheless, (Y/N) padded through their wing, finding her way to the primary kitchen Harry used to make her breakfast and midnight snacks as to not stray too far from her.

It was funny, she thought as she got herself a glass of water, how this place could feel so cold without him, even though he didn't even emit any kind of natural heat. Taking her water with her back to her room, (Y/N) tried to remind herself that it would only be a few more hours—long enough for her to nap away her headache—before Harry would be calling her, telling her he landed and was at their Italian villa, inevitably missing her. Hearing his voice again would make her feel worlds better, guaranteed.

That was the thought she held onto as she settled into their shared sheets once again, scooting closer to Harry's side and tucking his barely used pillow between her arms.

—————

Fighting to keep her eyes open and from sniffling through her congested nose, (Y/N) did her best to listen to Harry's voice on the other line.

As expected, Harry called her as soon as he was settled in the villa, his voice echoing through the emptiness that he proceeded to complain about. But, what she hadn't expected, was oversleeping heavily enough that Harry had to call her three times before she picked up, to which he interrogated her over, wanting to know if she was okay, a panicked edge to his tone she couldn't blame him for having. She never missed his phone calls like that, even if she was sleeping. Harry was a worrier when they were together, but that had nothing on the stress he felt over her safety when he wasn't in her immediate vicinity. But, as soon as she calmed him with promises that she was fine, just sleepy and wrapped up in pleasant dreams starring him (she really had dreamt of him, but maybe not so cloyingly sweet and vividly tender as she described, but its what calmed him and that's all that mattered), he was back to himself, whining over the empty villa and how odd it felt to travel without a heart, as he left his as home with her.

She was grateful for the talkative mood she found him in, as the longer he went on, the more she realized she wasn't in the best condition. The nap she had taken and the ounces of water she drank down beforehand hadn't done much of anything to quell her headache, as the pain had intensified from the moment she woke up, worsening as she tried to focus on Harry's words. Along with her budding migraine, her sinuses had become congested, making it hard for her to breathe and heightening the pressure in her head.

Once, early on in the conversation, Harry had asked if she was feeling alright, if her headache had eased. (Y/N) hesitated in her answer, knowing that if she told Harry the truth of her feelings in that moment, their phone call would be cut short in favor of him racing to the airport and getting back to her as soon as possible—commercial or private flight, whatever would get him home fastest. She could already hear the panic that would enter his voice, the fretting that would ensue even across the ocean that currently separated them. She didn't want that; she didn't want to distract from his work, or make him antsy and upset trying to find a way back to the manor—especially since it wasn't a big deal at all. She had a headache that would surely pass after a proper night's rest and more fluids in her system, no need for Harry to flip out and come home just to miss out on an important client while watching her sleep in bed.

So, she didn't tell him, making up some excuse that she was a little distracted because she put on one of the cooking shows he favored, a honey and almond baklava being show on the television that she wanted him to try making when he had the chance. That was how she found herself trying to breath through her mouth as quietly as possible with her eyes closed in the dark of their bedroom while Harry prattled on about what she's sure was an assessment of the city's current art exhibition that he planned on picking apart the next day when he came for his consultation.

"Are y'still tired, m'love?" Harry murmured through the phone, his tone soft and gentle, the one only reserved for her.

Bouncing back into the conversation, (Y/N) nodded her head before remembering he was a plane ride and a time zone away. "Yeah, yeah I am," she mumbled, rolling in the sheets in an effort to find a position comfortable enough to somehow ease the ton of pressure leaking into her head.

A low hum sounded on the other end. "Have y'eaten yet?"

(Y/N) couldn't stop the smile that stretched over her lips. Of course, that was his first concern. "No, not yet."

"Then I want y'to eat before y'rest again, alright? Have one of the meals I packed away in the refrigerator, there's instructions on how to reheat everything pinned to the top of each. Can you do that for me, petal?"

He was the cutest, she decided. The determination in his voice over the plans he'd just picked out for her was exactly what she expected from him. Though the thought of getting up and putting any effort into making food—even just reheating in the microwave sounded like the most monumental of tasks—made her headache tap against her skull, (Y/N) still hummed her agreement. "Okay, H. Anything else before we get off the phone, dad? Should I send you a picture of my empty plate, so you know I finished?"

Despite the clear tear in her voice, (Y/N) knew what the quiet pause he was taking meant.

"That wouldn't be such a bad idea," Harry mused, "If 's not too much trouble, I would actually greatly appreciate that update."

The earnestness of his words was enough to draw a croaky laugh from her throat. "Harry, I'm not doing that, but I'll text you before I fall asleep," she settled on, amusement tinting her words.

"I suppose that's not a bad compromise," Harry sighed, (Y/N) imagining him sinking into the burnt orange sofa that adorned their loft area, a resigned expression pinching his features.

(Y/N) only shook her head, her eyes falling closed once more. If she tried hard enough, with her eyes shuddered like this and Harry's unnecessary breathing sounding from the other end, she could pretend he was here. "I love you, Harry."

A honey sweetened sigh was exhaled through Harry's smiling lips, the curve audible in the sigh. "I love you, too, m'petal. I'll talk to you in the morning, yes?"

"Yes," she agreed, the idea of eating any kind of dinner slipping further and further away the longer she laid in bed.

"Goodnight, my (Y/N). Sweet dreams."

(Y/N) was only half-aware as her own goodnight left her lips, Harry having had to have hung up as she couldn't remember making the motions to end the phone call before she was tossing her phone to the side in favor of wrenching up the fluffy, green duvet to her chin. She was freezing now, Harry's lack of presence taking its toll harder than she expected. Feeling all the warmth around her, his familiar scent being picked up in notes and bits as she struggled to breathe through her nose, (Y/N) decided to lay down for a few more minutes before venturing to the kitchen—five minutes tops. Then, she'd follow through on her promise and eat whatever it was that Harry packed away for her.

Just another five minutes and her head would quit aching.

—————

(Y/N) tried her best to use her shaking hands to text Harry back, having missed his morning phone call after telling him she was busy visiting Charlotte. It'd been hours since then, (Y/N) not leaving her bed even once while fielding the checkin texts he sent along with a photo of every small thing he spotted around the villa and surrounding town that reminded him of her. She loved knowing that he was thinking of her so consistently, but she couldn't handle another glance at the too-bright screen despite the brightness being on the lowest setting. The sight only made her head pound even more.

No matter how many times she tired to convince herself that all her symptoms were something that would go away with enough sleep and water, every time she took stock of what she was experiencing, she only felt worse and worse. Her headache had been the start before her sinuses became stuffed up, but before long her joints and muscles were heavy and aching and her throat was too sore to get many words out without swearing her insides were raw. Her entire body felt like a big lump of pressure and aches, giving her the kind of exhaustion that allowed her to sleep despite how much her nose and throat hurt every time she breathed.

With the fog covering her brain and the shivers that worked down her spine despite the comforter tugged up to her chin, all (Y/N) wanted was Harry. The idea of his cool body wrapped around her form sounded like heaven. His voice coaxing her through the worst of her ragged coughs when her throat got the best of her could cure each of her ailments at this point. Even just knowing he was in the same place, close enough to catch him in glimpses between naps, or have him wake her when it was time to eat made her poor heart beat faster. What she wouldn't give to have him here.

But, that was exactly why she hadn't told him yet.

(Y/N) knew that the second she even uttered that she was slightly unwell, he'd blow off this consultation, lose a client, and (Y/N) wouldn't find it easy to forgive herself for doing that to him, no matter how many times he would insist that he didn't need that patron's business. Harry would be itching out of his skin to get to her, frantic from the moment he walked through the door, especially with the fact she hadn't told him from the jump how she was feeling. She knew that if he made his way here he would be scolding her in-between spoonfuls of homemade soup, and threats of taking her over his knee for not taking care of herself while he was gone after he finished pouting at her state.

Besides, he had less than seventy-two hours away from her before he'd be home again. Less than seventy-two hours before she could wrap herself around the solid chill of his body and sink into his hold. Before she'd hear his voice in person and have the rumble lull her to sleep with her head on his chest.

Those reminders were enough to soothe (Y/N), if only until the next coughing attack she suffered. But, she knew she could make it just fine. This wasn't the first time she'd fell ill without Harry, she could take care of herself.

—————

"(Y/N), are you okay? I can barely understand you."

Sucking in a breath as deep as she could manage, (Y/N) rolled onto her back with the sticky bedsheets following after her. Her fever had broken for the moment—sure to return in less than an hour if today's pattern prevailed—, and she needed to take this opportunity to get some kind of medicine in her system if she wanted to get out of bed and actually eat something today. After breaking her own heart by checking both the kitchen and bathroom cabinets for any stray medicine bottle she hoped had been stashed away, her only option was to call someone for help.

"Niall," she heaved, throat burning, "I'm sick."

A snort sounded on the other end, "Yeah, I can tell. You sound like you swallowed a lawnmower."

"Hey, be nice," she whined, though the words came out more like a series of dehydrated cracks, "I'm calling for help, and you're only being mean to me."

"What do you need?" Niall questioned, all traces of amusement draining from his tone, "Is Harry with you? What's wrong?"

Listening to him prattle off his list of questions, (Y/N) had half the mind to wonder if being a worry wart was a vampiric trait gained after turning.

"Harry's in Italy right now with a client, and I'm too sick to get out of bed. I need something to help with my fever and whatever will make my head stop pounding." (Y/N)'s stomach growled just as she finished speaking. "And maybe something warm to eat. My throat hurts, so soup might be nice."

"H left you like this to go to Italy?" A tint of disgust filtered into Niall's tone.

"No, no—he doesn't know," she croaked, cutting herself off as a string of coughs crept through her throat, "It started after he left."

A beat passed before Niall's voice sounded through the speaker again, "He doesn't know?"

(Y/N) internally cringed at the slip she hadn't meant to make. Despite the fact Niall was one of her closest friends at this point, she knew better than to think he wouldn't go out of his way to give Harry an update like this.

"No, but you can't tell him, Niall. Please," she pleaded, voice breaking and nose stinging as she tried to suck in a breath, "He's meeting with an important client this weekend, and you know that he'd call it off to come home if he knew. He'll be home on Monday, so I just need to get through the weekend then I'll tell him."

"(Y/N)," he said her name like a warning, like she knew better. And, she did, if she was being honest, but she never claimed to be the smartest and she was going to lean into that and the brain fog that came with her headache until she couldn't anymore.

"Niall, he'll panic, you know that. He'll freak and probably break half of the villa trying to pack, and possibly the gallery just trying to get out of there. It's not worth it—I have a cold that will clear up before he's even back on Monday. We don't need to tell him until he's already home." Her logic sounded flawed in her croaky voice, but she knew she got through to him when Niall hesitated on the other end.

(Y/N) had already sunk into her mattress with a satisfied smile by the time Niall heaved a sigh, an instinct that hadn't gone away despite the fact he didn't even need to breathe anymore.

"What did you need from the shops again?"

—————

Harry's brows furrowed when he read the disjointed pair of texts from (Y/N) for the third time since leaving the villa.

Petal 🌹

sory forgot to tell you i'm haning out with char today

i'l call when im home ok?

She'd texted him a bit since then, responding to the photographs of the thriving strawberry bushel in the garden of the villa and the outside of Mr. Sorrentino's shop, sending back only the barest of emoticons, but those two messages still concerned him. It was as if she typed it out with her eyes closed, and without a second thought before pressing the blue arrow to send it off.

Maybe it was the haze that had been lingering in his head for the past two days, but these messages pitched him off balance. It wasn't unfounded for him to feel discombobulated when he was without her, but the pit pooling in his abdomen was taking things a step further as he began to feel physically ill—something he hadn't experienced since his human days. The odd feeling in his stomach went further than just the harbored urge to zip home and disregard the consultation that he'd carried since walking out of their shared bedroom, breaching into territory he didn't recognize.

While he had suspicions about what the new development could mean, he tried to rationalize with himself first, knowing just how impulsive and wired he became when it came to (Y/N).

He'd been spending a lot of time out in the sun this trip, more than he ever did, trying to tie up loose ends as fast as possible in hopes of getting home even a few hours early. The realtor he'd been in contact with about the Parisian chateau he had his eyes on—a friend of a friend who didn't look too closely at the paperwork—had been pestering him incessantly about what accommodations he required and when he would be by to tour the property. Then, in the middle of it all, he leaves (Y/N) and separates them by an ocean. Of course, he was going to be off kilter when it all came together like that.

It was nothing that a call from (Y/N) once she had the time wouldn't fix.

That was the explanation Harry took with him as he left for the consultation, steeling himself in preparation for the difficulty he'd been warned of through some of the associates at his brokerage firm. He wasn't afraid of this man by any stretch of the imagination, but he knew he would need to keep his temper in check if he wanted this meeting to go as quickly as possible—arguing got him no where, as (Y/N) had so thoughtfully pointed out on several occasions.

It wasn't at all a long journey to the gallery that was serving as the venue for the consolation, a private viewing room having been set up to accommodate them, but the faux illness he'd only felt the beginning tendrils of had just enough time to wrap around his throat in an uncomfortable grip. He was more scatterbrained than he could ever remember being in his eternal life, a pain singeing the cords of his throat, and his joints hesitating to curl.

Taking a deep breath as he entered the gallery, Harry didn't even bother to acknowledge the receptionist that stood to greet him, his eyes trained on the shining leather of his boots with his brows fixed into a glare. He wracked his brain in hopes of finding another explanation for the symptoms that he was experiencing as opposed to the reasoning he speculated over this morning. But all he could come up with was more evidence pointing him in the direction of what he prayed wasn't happening.

It wasn't uncommon for mated pairs to begin taking on the distress of their counterparts, typically coming into play when one half of the whole was in danger, severely hurt, or otherwise unwell enough that their lover would be alerted to help fend off the unsavory feeling. It'd been months since the bonding, and Harry hadn't been given a single insight into any of (Y/N)'s less than sunny moments, not even when she slipped on a patch of ice just outside the back door of the garden, landing her with a mottling of purple and blue bruising along the backs of her thighs. He figured if he didn't receive that shock of awareness then, that they wouldn't be the kind of pair that was granted that ability. But, today was making him reconsider that stance.

Replaying the night before he left for Italy, he recalled the way (Y/N) seems more inclined to shy away from the light, acting as if she were like him and sticking to the shadows and the low lights that darkened their bedroom. He recalled the way she moved with hesitance, as if the stretching of her muscles and bending of her joints took more effort than she bargained for. Even waking her up before he headed off was a challenge, (Y/N) needing more coaxing that normal to even consider blinking her eyes open for him.

But, she would tell him if she was feeling ill, right? She'd know that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if she fell sick while he was in a whole other country. Right?

Harry disregarded the set up of the viewing room around him as he slammed the door shut after him, focused on the phone he pulled from his pocket. He had only minutes to spare before his appointment would arrive, and he would have to feign professional pleasantries in the face of someone he couldn't care any less about.

I am going to call you once I am done with my meeting. I need to hear your voice. Please answer.

Pressing send, Harry's forehead creased when he caught sight of the two seemingly disoriented messages at the top of the thread. If he was proved right, and she was sick, he didn't know what he was going to do with himself, knowing that he was feeling only the faint tremors of the real pain she was going through, all the while he was in a different country listening to the prattling of an uneducated patron that thought he knew more about the art periods Harry lived through.

When he didn't immediately earn a response or even the timestamp proving she had read the message, Harry relented to tucking the device away just in time for the receptionist from downstairs to return with a guest in tow.

"Mr. Styles," she greeted with a practiced smile, something wary in her eyes as she took in the tight line of Harry's jaw, "Mr. Cyrus is here for your consultation. Would you like me to bring any refreshments for the two of you?"

Harry didn't even bother awaiting the new guest's input on the offer before he waved the woman away, a tight line formed by his lips. A reserved smile was painted on her lips as she stepped out of the way, allowing Mr. Cyrus to step into the room, the door closing behind him, though Harry could still hear the click of her heels over the hardwood floor. Each clack tightened his muscles another minuscule amount as if the sound was pinging around in his skull, leaving him stiff as his new guest reached out a hand in greeting.

"Mr. Styles, thank you for coming out here to meet with me," Mr. Cyrus started, a slight accent filtering through his words, "I hope you're making the most out of your time here, despite this."

Only a hum made it's way out of his throat as he shook the man's hand, nothing more than a quick nod of their hands before he was slipping out of his grip. "Please," he murmured, gesturing to the pair of seats arranged around the table in hopes of feigning some level of politeness.

Lucky enough, this client seemed to be the talkative kind, spewing off research he made in preparation for the consultation. (For the bits and pieces Harry bothered to tune into, he found 98% of the information to be wrong, especially the so-called facts he seemed so smug about). Harry only sunk into his seat, elbow propped on the table with his chin cradled in his palm, uncaring of whether or not he was playing the convincing role of paying attention.

Tempering his breathing, Harry did his best to take stock of the unpleasant symptoms rifling through his body. Though the pains were still dull, as if he was experiencing the secondhand sensations originating a wall away, acute shocks made their way through the fog, making his head throb for a moment before his throat felt like it could crack in half from dehydration. His jaw clenched as he swore his joints began to ache as if taking on an invisible weight, the fuse on his worry now lit at the idea that this was only a taste of what (Y/N) could be going through.

The vision of (Y/N) wrapped up in their bedsheets, pale and sweating with a frown on her lips and those grooves between her brows Harry always smoothed out with a kiss, all alone while he was tucked away in their cozy villa an ocean away all because of the pretentious asshole sitting across from him, made Harry go still.

What was he doing here?

What was he doing here in the sunny Italian countryside, in a gallery that didn't hold anything nearly as enthralling as what he had at home, with some human who's heartbeat sounded more like an incessant knocking than the baseline melody he was so used to at the manor? How could he do this to his bonded? Whether or not she was sick, Harry should be with her.

"If you would excuse me for jus' one second," Harry murmured, effectively cutting off Mr. Cyrus' ramblings on Titian.

Harry didn't wait for any kind of response before he was sweeping out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him. He didn't wait until he hid away in a different viewing room before he pulled his phone out, restless hands tapping at the screen.

Looking at the screen, he found it void of any notifications, leaving a clear view of his lockscreen—a photo of (Y/N) stretched out in his rose garden, bathing under the sun as she peeked at him over her sunglasses from where he stood in the shade. The picture only made his frozen heart crack even deeper. The reason for his existence could be suffering and he wasn't doing anything to help her.

Swiping through his phone with determination, Harry pulled up (Y/N)'s contact with full intention to call her again before his phone began buzzing in his hand. The screen transitioned to display an incoming call from... Niall?

Harry almost wanted to ignore the call, eager to get (Y/N) on the line instead. But, Niall only ever called him when something important had happened, usually an emergency. (He tried not to think about it, but he remembered the last time Niall called him like this, when (Y/N) was being terrorized by the blood children).

"Niall?" Harry greeted once he pressed the phone to his ear, doing his best to unclench his jaw.

"Hey, H," Niall reciprocated on the other line, his disposition much sunnier, "How are you? How's Italy?"

"Fine. Is everything okay?" Harry's patience had died in that room with Mr. Cyrus.

"Well," Niall started, feigned pleasantry leaving his tone, "I'm not supposed to be telling you, but something's wrong with (Y/N)."

If his heart hadn't stopped beating centuries ago, Harry was fairly certain this would have been the day that killed him, these would have been the words that ended him.

Making a point to temper himself, Harry forced himself to lighten his grip on his phone. "What do you mean." Though he was posing a question, his inflection stayed firm, the words barely being gritted out between his teeth.

"(Y/N), she's..." Niall trailed off, seemingly at war with the rest of his explanation. Harry didn't care.

"I swear, if you do not tell me what is going on right now, Niall, I wi—"

"She's sick, okay? That's all," he relented with a sigh, "I just left the manor, I dropped off some medicine and things, but she's not looking too good. I'm sure she has a fever and she could barely talk to me and make sense at the same time. She didn't want me to tell you, because she knew you'd freak out—which I know you're doing right now—, but she didn't look too good when I saw her. I just thought you should know."

Though breathing was nothing more than apart of the human facade he'd donned in the past centuries, Harry knew that in this moment he was going to need the deep breaths he sucked in like his lungs were burning.

She didn't want him to know? How long had she been ill that she had to reach out to Niall to get supplies for her? She was so far gone that she wasn't making sense?

Why was Harry still here?

Unwiring his jaw, Harry mumbled a quiet, "Okay. Thank you for letting me know," before the call was ended and his phone was back in his pocket if only to spare it from being crushed in his fist.

Harry felt as if he was on autopilot as he stalked through the halls, bypassing the viewing room that held his now most hated client. Firing off emails as he did so, arranging for his private plane to be ready for him within the next hour, Harry muttered something to the receptionist on his way out about an emergency and to inform Mr. Cyrus he'd be in touch. (The second part was a lie, but Harry didn't care at this point).

—————

If not for the fact his phone charger and gifts he'd bought for (Y/N) were at the villa, Harry wouldn't have wasted time with backtracking to the house before heading to the airport. He tore through the place, packing and grabbing anything he thought he may need, all the while his ear was trained to listen for his ringing phone.

From the second he hung up the phone, his mind had been full of nothing but a reel of his worst nightmares when it came to (Y/N)'s health. The delicate balance that went into a human's life was something he hadn't given much thought to until he fell for his bonded. Though, now, especially in this moment, he couldn't find room to have anything else on his mind. He knew good and well that science and medicine had advanced far past what it had been in his youth, but there was always a chance.

Always a chance that she wouldn't take her medicine according to the correct timetable. Always a chance that her fever wouldn't break. Always a chance that this wasn't just a harmless, temporary cold. Always a chance he wouldn't make it in time, leaving her to wither away in the silk of their bedsheets.

That was all he could think about as he moved through the motions of driving to the airport, and moving through the masses until he was safely boarded. It was only then that he had enough space in between his bubbling worries (he was currently fixating on whether or not she could somehow wander outside in her delirium and call more blood children to her location) to pull his phone out and try calling (Y/N) again.

As expected, it went to voicemail.

"(Y/N), petal," he murmured, tone gentle despite the tense in his muscles, "I'm coming home. Niall told me." Harry paused for a moment, feeling his throat clog at the memory of Niall telling him that (Y/N) explicitly told him not to share the knowledge of her state. "I'm sorry I wasn't there—that I left you. But, I'll be home soon, and I'm going to take care of you, okay? Hang in there for me, petal. I love you."

Hanging up the phone, Harry knew that despite the fact he was tucking the device away in his pocket, he was going to be calling her again soon enough.

As the plane took off, Harry sunk into the beige leather of the seat. With his eyes closed, he tipped his head back against the headrest. Despite his want to do nothing more than to force himself into a sleep, knowing the hours would pass by much quicker, he reasoned with himself to stay awake and alert—if for no other reason than to keep track of his own symptoms and ensure that as long as he didn't feel worse, that meant (Y/N) was okay.

—————

"... I will be home soon. I love you, petal."

Harry hung up the phone as he climbed into his car, grateful to be in control again and closing the distance between himself and his bonded on his own terms. He kept his phone in the cupholder as he started on the familiar drive home in hopes of hearing the buzzing loud and clear incase she called back, finally answering the dozen of calls and corresponding voicemails he left since their last contact.

Though he knew this trek back to the manor like the back of his hand, it didn't feel the same without (Y/N) in the passenger seat. That was always one of his favorite parts of going out of town with her: the drive back, with his love exhausted in the passenger seat, using the last of her strength to stay awake with him during the drive and hold his hand as he navigated them home. Now, he was left to be a nervous wreck as he rushed to get home as fast as possible, disregarding all traffic laws in the hour it took to find himself approaching the long drive to the manor.

If not for muscle memory, Harry's halfway sure he wouldn't have even put the car in park or took the keys from the ignition once he was safely in the garage. (Y/N)'s heartbeat rung in his ears, the sound flooding him with relief so tangible Harry swore the only way he'd be able to let it out would be through tears. But he couldn't worry about that at the moment, not when he heard the wheeze of her lungs, her breathing paced. She was still asleep. Alone.

Utilizing his supernatural speed, he blurred through the manor in a matter of seconds, finding more relief the second he stepped over the threshold of their bedroom. (Y/N) was barely anything more than a lump under the layers of duvets and blankets she must have collected from around the manor, but he knew she was there. Her small nest was complimented with two half-full bottles of water and a pill container sitting on his nightstand, as she had taken up residence on his side of the bed. Her heartbeat was strong and steady, his lifeline in this moment of panic, and her scent was everything he needed to douse some of the worry that blazed in his stomach.

She was okay, and he was here now.

Approaching the bed at a pace a bit too fast to be human, Harry didn't hesitate before he took a seat on the edge of the mattress, emulating the same scene he had left with days earlier. This time, though, (Y/N) didn't look up at him with tired eyes and a soft smile—no, she was too busy sleeping with a cinch in her brows and the color drained from her face. To keep from burbling off worried sentiments that would wake his petal, Harry kneaded his bottom lip between his teeth and laid his hand on her forehead.

While it wasn't out of the ordinary for (Y/N) to feel pleasantly warm against his chilled skin, this was different. Her skin felt as if she had bathed in fire, the flames having melded with her skin. (Though a pit of guilt began to open up next to his worry, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit of contentment knowing that with her fever, he could wrap himself around her, chilly skin and all, without having to worry about making her freeze). A sheen covered her features, a light sweat that only highlighted the lack of life in her face. His heart broke as he took her in.

Brushing his fingertips down the planes of her cheek, the line of her jaw, and the curve of her neck, Harry comforted himself in her form. This moment was the first time in days he wasn't agonizing over the pain in his throat and ache in his head. Now that he was here, he could take care of her, fix the mistake of leaving her behind and care for her the way she deserved.

Harry didn't even think before he was kicking off his shoes ((Y/N) hated having shoes anywhere near her bedding, a particular habit Harry hadn't even thought about until she came into his life), and climbing into bed beside her. The task of unrolling the sheets from around her body and dismantling the fortress of blankets layered over her barely made any kind of disturbance to (Y/N)'s sleeping form, the most acknowledgment was earned when Harry wrapped himself around her—arms threaded around her waist, face in her neck, and legs twined between hers—, a sigh falling from her lips.

This moment was more self-indulgent than anything, Harry knew as he inhaled a lungful of her scent, but he liked to think that with the way (Y/N) sunk into his hold, she was happy he was home now, even in her sleep. He felt desperate as he dotted his lips over her skin, taking in heady inhales of her scent and dragging his nose over the curve of her neck as his exhales fanned over her skin. She was in his arms, warm as the sun she bathed in during the summer, smelling as sweet as the strawberries she indulged in regularly once learning how much he liked tasting them on her.

He left this behind for some consultation?

That logic was hard to wrap Harry's mind around in that moment. Even as he slipped his hand under the top of his she used as sleepwear, cataloguing the heat of her skin, his eyelashes brushing the delicate skin of her neck, his ankle hooked around her own, he couldn't get close enough to her. Though he had his ears tuned into the sound of her heart and hands documenting every languid move of her muscles as she shifted in his arms, breaking down every single process that made up the love of his existence, it wasn't enough.

He needed her. He needed to see her eyes, hear her voice, see the recognition flood into her gaze when she looked at him.

And, that would start with the dreaded task of waking her from the sleep he was sure she craved.

It was real work to pull himself out of the cocoon he made in her neck, unfurling himself from the home he made around her body as he propped himself up on an elbow to gaze at her from above. The hand he had tucked under her top, slipped out and came to rest on the round of her cheek, pale fingertips running along her cheekbone in gentle sweeps.

"Petal," he crooned to her, voice barely above a whisper, "(Y/N), petal, need y'to wake up for me."

Not a single stir.

Harry tried again with a lump building behind his sternum. She was obviously so sleepy, and here he was disrupting her all because he wanted to see her eyes. But, he reasoned with himself as he pressed his lips to her cheek in another soft attempt of waking her, it wouldn't be just for that—he was going to give her medicine, too, if she needed any, and he'd make sure she drank some more water before falling back into her dream world. He wasn't being completely selfish.

"Darling," he tried again, his words sweeping over her heated skin and melting, "Let me see your pretty eyes. Need y'to wake up, so I know you're okay." Dropping his palm down her neck, Harry began working a circuit with his hand over the shoulder exposed by the drooping of her top, up the curve of her throat, and dipping low enough to feel the echos of her heartbeat against his palm. The motion rocked her body in gentle waves in hopes of coaxing her out of sleep along with his pleaded coos of her name.

A few beats passed, Harry feeling guiltier and guiltier by the second, before (Y/N) finally blinked her eyes open. The cinch that had taken root between her brows as she slumbered only deepened as she took in the bleary sight before her. Though they were only open a smidge, Harry felt his smile grow watery as he took in the color of her irises.

"Harry?" she grumbled, voice broken and hoarse.

Settling his hand on her cheek, Harry nodded his head, "'S me, love."

Canting her head to the side, the pinch in her brows turned hopeful with the rounding of her gaze and softening of her features. "You're really here?"

The watery grin on his cheeks grew as he couldn't help but drop his head to press a kiss to the heated round of her cheek. "'M really here, darling. Couldn't stand to stay away from you any longer."

When he pulled back, Harry got to watch as her bleary, hopeful gaze was replaced with recognition. Her mouth dropped into a small gape, the full of her lips opening as a puff of air was exhaled. It only took another moment before she was urging herself off the bed and wrapping her arms around Harry's neck, this time her face burrowing in the tendons of his neck.

"I missed you so much, H," she murmured into his skin, voice nasally from either the cold wracking through her body or the emotion of seeing him again seeping into her system.

Harry's eyes fell closed as he luxuriated in her hold. He allowed himself to be tugged down, (Y/N)'s form underneath him as he was pulled to lay atop her with her weakened arms. "I missed you, too, petal. Never doing that again, not ever. You're coming with me wherever I go, or I am not going at all, I've decided."

He swore he heard her murmur a thank you against his skin, but the sound was swallowed up by the rumblings that were taking place in his chest, a quiet purr resulting from his contentment in that moment. (He rarely ever purred like this, the one time within memory he could recall being when he was nesting while staving off his heat before bonding with (Y/N), but he couldn't blame his body for the way he reacted at having her in his arms again). Moments passed as Harry allowed her to feel him against her, the solid weight of his form pressing into the soft give of her own, before he had to reason with himself that he would have all night to hold her, but he needed to get some fluids and medication in her while she was awake.

Blocking out the whine he heard from her as he pulled away, Harry reached for the pill bottle on the side table and one of her bottles of water. "Still tired, petal?"

"Yeah," she breathed, sounding exhausted though her eyes were bright and adoring as they took him in, "You're staying, right? You don't have to leave again?"

The shake of his head came before he could even form words around the lump in his throat, "No, no. 'M not leaving, again, especially not while you're so ill. I will be here all night with you, darling."

She seemingly blanched at his words, being launched back into reality. "H-How did you know I'm sick?"

A slight curve of his lips molded Harry's features into something soft, the rumbling in his chest subsiding at the memory of her secret-keeping. "Aside from the obvious, you mean?" he teased, peering at her through his lashes as he made quick work out of the cap to the pill bottle. When she did nothing other than sink further into the fluff of his pillow and sink of the sheets, Harry shook his head. "Niall told me."

An exasperated sigh crackled from her lungs as her eyes shuttered closed. "I made him promise not to tell you."

"I heard about that as well," he answered simply, unable to hide his disappointment with the fact she was unwilling to share this information with him, "But, we will be having a conversation about that later. For now, I want y'to drink some water and take more medicine for me before y'go back to sleep." Harry doled out the correct dosage according to the bottle's label before working on the top of the water as (Y/N) fell silent beside him. Reading over the facts pasted to the white pill bottle, Harry pursed his lips. "Y'haven't taken any in the last four hours, right?"

When what he earned in response was nothing more than a watery no, Harry's concern shot through the roof. If not for the fact he wasn't entirely alive, Harry swore he would have gotten whiplash at the rate he flicked his head up to catch his lover before she fell to tears. The sight that greeted him broke his barely mended heart, her already sullen features now complimented with a pair of teary eyes and a wobbly bottom lip.

"Petal," he crooned, carefully setting his supplies off to the side in favor of gathering her into his arms instead, "I was only teasing, yes? I am not upset, I jus' want for y'to get better. Don't cry, okay?" His final sentiment was spoken around a growing lump in his throat while the very backs of his eyes burned, like a hypocrite.

"I know, I know," she whimpered, clinging to him with her face buried in his shoulder, "I'm s-so happy you're home, that's all. This is all I've been wanting since you left; I didn't want to do this alone, anymore."

Harry took in tempering breaths as she spoke, willing himself to keep a lid on his own emotions until she fell asleep (the two of them crying all over each other wasn't going to make (Y/N) feel any better). "Not alone anymore, (Y/N). 'M right here, and 'm not leaving you again."

Her arms tightening around his neck was what he earned in response.

Once she was calmed and Harry felt secure in being able to see her tear-tracked face without falling into sobs himself, he pulled her from his hold and finally followed through his with plan to get some water and medicine in her. (Y/N) listened like the good girl she was, and Harry told her as much as he bundled her into his arms after she drained both of her half-finished bottles.

With nothing more than the thin layer of their silken sheets draped over their tangled forms, (Y/N) gazed at Harry with hearts in her eyes across to where he lay beside her. "How was your trip?" she questioned, voice sounding slightly better with the help of the water.

A single dimple dented into Harry's cheek as he tried to recall any part of the last almost three days that weren't consumed with thoughts of her. "Fine, boring, uneventful," Harry listed, "I don't like it there much anymore if you are not with me."

Harry could tell she really was tired with the way she didn't even tease him over his devotion or brush off his cloyingly sweet words with a shy smile. All he was granted was a short shake of her head, as she eyes shuttered closed. "And how did the consultation go?"

"Didn't finish it."

Her brows drew together over her closed eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Niall called me in the middle of it, telling me about your little secret, and I didn't bother finishing any negotiations before I left to come home."

That got her eyes fluttering open with wide shock clearing her gaze. "Harry, wh—I can't—You're not supposed to do that! That's why I didn't want to tell you in the first place!"

Sweeping a hand over her heated forehead, Harry shook his head and did his best to soothe her away from the tone that was surely searing her throat. "You are m'priority, not some stuffy rich man who thinks he knows anything about art because he once watched a documentary. I was not going to sit through another second of that meeting knowing that you needed me here instead. Do you understand that, (Y/N)?"

Despite her disappointment raised tone, Harry could see guilt simmering away in her eyes. "But, this is a big client, right? Someone important en—"

"No one is more important than you, that is what I am trying to tell you, darling. No sale, or heavy investor means more to me than you and your health. No exceptions." Though his words were stern, Harry made a point to keep his tone gentle and sticky like honey, sweetening the delivery in a way he needed her to swallow and understand.

"I'm so—"

This time it only took a look from him to cut her off. They'd been over this countless times: (Y/N)'s need to apologize for things that were not her fault or completely out of her control. Like her illness.

Instead of arguing, (Y/N) allowed herself to bask in the feel of his hand sweeping over her heated skin and petting back her rogue hairs. If not for the way she nodded her head and the pacing of her breathing, Harry would have assumed she had fallen asleep with the way her eyes fell shut.

"Even though I feel a little bit guilty, I'm happy you're home, H."

"I am too, petal."

Once he knew she was well and safely asleep, Harry had a few hours to kill before she would either wake up or he would be forced to rouse her for another round of medicine, leaving him to do the one thing he did every time there was a facet of human life he didn't know anything about: he pulled up Google.

Typing in a search for the best home remedies for a cold, Harry grazed over the hundreds of thousands of search results that were yielded. He could spend a few hours like this.

—————

Waking up still felt like a dream as (Y/N) tried to blink her eyes open. The silk sheet pulled up to her chin did nothing to shield her from the pleasant chill that seeped over her skin and cooled the heat that pooled just under the surface. Everything felt a bit surreal as she tried to fight her way to the surface, clinging to the bits of light that haloed around a form she couldn't entirely make out.

"Hi, petal," a deep crooning voice greeted her, a sweep of gentle fingertips brushing her hair from her face following after, "Finally waking up?"

She tried to suck in a deep breath before she remembered her nose was too congested, leaving her to struggle to breath in through gaped lips and crackling lungs. A soft cooing sound floated between them, the voice that had greeted her now pouting over her state. The fresh air in her lungs urged her to wake and see the angel hovering above her.

Blinking away the bleariness that plagued her vision, (Y/N) climbed to the surface of her dreamland, breaking through the veil that separated her from reality. The flecks of light she had perceived as a halo around a hovering angel, was actually nothing more than the midlevel glow from a bedside lamp. The light was emitting from beside Harry, where he sat against the headboard with her head in his lap and his fingers trailing through her hair in soothing motions. He gazed down at her with softened moss-colored irises, adoration swimming through them, his face unsmiling though (Y/N) could see contentment rounding out his features

"Hi," she croaked, wincing at the feel of her raw vocal cords rubbing against one another.

That got Harry's mouth to curve into a smile, his hand sliding through her hair before landing on the slope of her neck. He canted his head to match her eye contact from where she laid in his lap, the pad of his thumb running a circuit along the line of her jaw. "Hi, love. How are y'feeling?"

The fog that billowed in her head didn't clear enough to give a solid answer as she shook her head. All (Y/N) knew was that she didn't feel good.

Harry's mouth set into a thin line as he gazed down at her, eyes sweeping over her form as if cataloguing her state for his own diary of her symptoms he had going on. "Still tired?" he asked.

"Mhm," (Y/N) hummed, fighting the instinct to close her eyes and roll over back into her dream state. At least there she knew that her head wouldn't hurt and she could breathe through her nose without problem.

"Need y'to eat first before y'go back to sleep, though, okay? By the looks of the meals I packed for y'before I left, y'haven't been taking care of yourself like I asked." A somewhat scolding glance ran through Harry's gaze before he softened again.

Really, how could he blame her? Poor petal had been practically bed bound, how could he expect her to wait around for a plate of pasta to reheat in that state?

"Sorry," she murmured despite the fact she knew she was off the hook before she'd even been caught on it.

Harry was quick to shake his head at her response, a loose curl falling over his forehead. "No need to be sorry, petal. I shouldn't even be reprimanding y'when you are like this. Besides, I've already prepared a fresh meal for y'tonight that's supposed to make y'feel better."

Though the idea of eating right now didn't really outweigh how much she wanted to go back to sleep, (Y/N) knew better than to turn down the offer. If she was being honest, she couldn't quite remember the last time she ate something more substantial than a handful of Harry's homemade granola he was testing out for her. There was no chance of her getting better if she didn't put in the effort.

"What is it?" she asked, reluctantly pulling herself from Harry's hold to sit up on the mattress. Stretching out her limbs and spine was a relief she hadn't seen coming. How long had she holed herself up under the covers, barely moving unless to grab a tissue?

"Homemade tortellini and kale soup," Harry answered proudly. (He'd begun to get a bit of an ego when it came to his pasta making skills, ever since (Y/N) raved over his lasagna one too many times). "I tried m'best," he continued, "but I didn't have m'sous chef with me, so 'm not sure if it will be as perfect as I would prefer it to be."

She was hardly anything of a sous chef when she was in the kitchen with him—she was more of a taste tester than anything, and she was only granted bites after begging Harry—,but (Y/N) felt a smile mold over her lips nonetheless. "I'm sure it's just fine, H. Let me try it."

Taking that as his cue to leave his spot against the headboard, Harry planted his feet on the marbled floor before reaching for (Y/N)'s waist. He positioned her in his old station, preparing her for the dinner in bed he'd planned. "So demanding," he had mumbled under his breath, peering at her through his lashes with amusement sparkling in his gaze. He held his chilled hands on her waist a moment longer as he dipped his head down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll be right back, petal," he murmured against her skin, lingering for a beat before releasing his hold on her.

In the few moments that Harry left her be, having blurred out of the room to assumedly return with her soup, (Y/N) got a glimpse of how she was feeling now that she was more cognizant. All of her limbs felt heavy, bones being weighed down by muscles that felt as if they'd been strung too tight for too long. Some of the pressure in her head had been alleviated given that she could breathe out of one side of her nose for the time being, but her throat was sure to make up for it with an ache in her lungs burning with every breath she took in.

No more than a few beats passed before Harry was back, cutting (Y/N) off before she had time to wallow in the feel of her aching body. In his hands he held a tray adorned with the bowl of steaming soup and her blue bottle she was sure had been refilled to the top with water he was going to expect her to finish before sleeping again for the night. He concentrated on the tray in his hands as he slowed, brows furrowed as he made his way to her (his, technically) side of the bed.

"'S very warm, so be careful, petal," he mumbled, settling the tray across her lap, the legs denting the mattress on either side of her thighs.

She smiled as she gazed down at her meal for the night, the vision tinted in pink at the thought of Harry stalking around the kitchen as she slept, making her first warm meal since he'd left. Though it wasn't a new development, the love felt she knowing that he'd learned how to cook for no other reason than to take care of her almost consumed her.

"Thank you," she said as he sunk down on the edge of the mattress at her side.

He nodded to her, brows still furrowed before he prompted, "Drink some more water while it cools, please. I read lots of water is supposed to help cure illnesses."

There was that love again, almost taking her whole. If not for the pain in her throat—probably time to take another round of medicine, but she was sure Harry already had that covered—she would have teased him some. Instead, she was left with that rosy vision again in her head, this time of him scrolling through his phone with that same determined set in his features, reading about at home remedies for a cold. That scene only allowed for a small okay to be croaked out of (Y/N)'s throat as she reached for the bottle on the tray.

A beat passed as (Y/N) sipped on the cool water, the temperature on the line between being both soothing and burning on her raw throat with how chilled it was.

"May I ask you something, petal?"

(Y/N) raised her brows at his words, finding his gaze already trained on hers from her side. "Sure," she swallowed, taking a breath before sucking down more water, not having known how dehydrated she was until the first sip.

His gaze dropped down to the bowl at her lap, pursing his lips before meeting her gaze again. "Please know that you may tell me no, but this is something I'd really like to do for you if you'd let me."

The prelude to his request made (Y/N) nervous as she listened. If he thought she had the energy to partake in some welcome home sex, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"Okay."

Shuffling closer to her with the sheets fluffing around him, Harry reached for the sterling spoon that had been placed off to the side of her dinner. He matched her eyes, his own clear and artificially green, before he spoke, "May I feed you?"

The breath of laughter that fell from her lips didn't help the ache in her lungs, but she couldn't help it as she processed his request. "Really? You want to do that?"

Giving a definitive nod, Harry continued, "Yes. I read that illnesses like these can make your muscles sore and movement something of a hindrance. I want to help you, if it's alright with you."

How was she supposed to deny him when he looked to her with that strong set in his jaw, mind made up with how madly he wanted to take care of her? He reminded her of the kitten he sometimes emulated with those purrs that rumbled from his chest, features in a determined pout though devotion swam through his gaze as he looked at her.

"Okay," she settled on, her lightly chapped lips forming a smile as she gazed at him, "Thank you, H."

He brightened at the sound of her consent, shooting her a soft lipped smile before he scooped out a spoonful of soup loaded with pasta and greens. He hesitated bringing the bite to her mouth, pressing the back of his free hand against the ceramic bowl. The action only further deepened the crease between his brows before he matched her gaze again. "Tell me if 's still too hot, petal. 'M afraid 'm not the best judge of temperature."

Maybe it was the cold in her system moving to her head, but (Y/N) couldn't stop herself before a watery smile made its way to her lips that matched the tears on her waterline. "I'm sure it's just fine, Harry. Thank you."

It was the sight of her with tears in her eyes that made Harry drop the utensil back into the warm soup, his hands coming to cradle her cheeks in his palms. "Petal, what's wrong? Are y'hurting again?" he rambled, an undercurrent of panic steeping his words, "It's too soon for more medication, but I can try to figure something out for you, okay?"

(Y/N) shook her head, unable to stop herself as a pair of tears seeped from her eyes and the lump in her throat further burned her already swollen insides. "No, no, that's not it. You're just... I just really love you. Thank you for being here."

The curve of his brows turned downward, rounding out his features as if he were gazing at a puppy. "Oh, petal," he crooned, dropping his head to press a delicate kiss to the full of her lips, "I love you, too, so much. I love taking care of you almost as much, you know that? Not a single place I'd rather be when I've got you right here."

She canted her head in his hold, smushing her cheek against his palms. "Even if I've got more snot than brains right now?"

That finally caused a smile to crack at his features. "You are the most divine patient I've ever tended to, I swear it."

A watery laugh fell from her lips at his praise, her smile uplifting her features and causing the remaining tears on her waterline to rise into her view. Turning her face in his hands, she pressed her lips to his cool palm. Her kiss lingered on his hand for a moment longer before she wrapped her own fingers around his wrists, pulling them from her face. "Sorry," she started, a bit bashful now, "I didn't mean to cry all over you. But, really, thank you."

"Don't be sorry," he said, the words like a mantra at this point, "I never mind taking care of you, no matter the state. I jus' want you to be well, that is m'only request." Before she could bubble off another round of watery gratitude, Harry dropped one of her hands in favor of reaching for the abandoned silverware. "Now, I need to have y'fed before this goes as cold as I am."

(Y/N) watched with a bursting heart as he scooped a bite out for her before bringing it to her lips. He murmured a small careful, darling to her as she took the spoonful of soup. The temperature was just right despite his worries, flavors perfectly crafted and so noticeably Harry-made with the seasoning habits he had picked up while learning what her favorites and preferences were. She could feel his eyes on her as she swallowed down the bite, the warmth soothing the frigidness that came along with the ice water in her bottle.

When he hesitated to spoon out another bite for her, (Y/N) knew what he was looking for. Squeezing the hand he had wrapped in hers, she smiled at him in encouragement, his features softening at the sight. "This is really good, Harry. You got it perfect—I already feel a little better."

Biting back the smile that threatened to take over his features, Harry gave out another helping from the bowl in her lap. "Truthfully?" he murmured, waiting as she chewed, "You're already feeling well?"

He was too cute, her vampire. "I wouldn't say well, exactly," she reasoned, "But, I'm sure I'll feel close to it after I'm done."

(Y/N) felt her heart bang against her ribcage with the power of its beats as she gazed at him. He was all but glowing with pride. She loved giving that to him, even if he found out later that she still wasn't feeling all that well despite his food.

"Well enough to take a warm shower with me?" he asked after a few moments, having ushered a couple more bites of his curing food to her mouth, "The warmth should help your sinuses, and soothe any aches, I've learned."

While the idea of standing up for at least twenty minutes (if not longer with the addition of Harry under the water) made her more tired than she can remember being all weekend, this was just another thing she couldn't imagine denying Harry (and herself, really) of. Plus, he'd wash her hair for her, and that was almost better than the idea of the warm water all together.

"You'll wash my hair for me?" she asked, swallowing down another bite of cheese filled pasta and kale.

The smile that bloomed across Harry's features was all the response she needed.

"It would be m'pleasure, darling."

—————

its been SO long since I wrote for vamp h I hope I still have the vibes right for them!!! thank u so much to the patient people that requested a blurb like this so long ago and thank u to everyone who read this!! so sorry for any mistakes and if you have any requests or ideas of your own please send them in!!!

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starlightkun · 10 months

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Hi i just wanted to say I absolutely ADORED RID!!!!! the banter, the dialogue, the relationship development, everything just progressed so naturally. It's truly an art piece

ahhhhh thank you 🥺💖💖 im so happy w all the love rid is getting 💕💕

#its what vamp kun deserves truly #answered #anonymous #talk #text #mine #fb #f: romance is dead #au: strawberry sunday

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midnightsun-if · 3 months

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HC: Persephone being a baker for both humans and supernatural and she has all sorts of baked goodies but if you're a vamp you can just tell her you are craving something with strawberry jam today and she'll hand you a menu for all blood infused goodies yum

Persephone actually does that 😅

She has a multitude of recipes memorized for various species. From the more fishy variety for mermaids or sirens, to blood infused cookies or danishes for vampires, or even volcanic dusted donuts for fire-born species (like phoenixes or dragon shifters).

She’s a walking bakery.

#midnight sun #asks #sc: persephone

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smalls-words · 2 years

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Blood, Sweat and Tears

Summary: Rebekah loses you. Rebekah cannot lose you.

Pairings: Rebekah x Fem!Human!Reader, Mikaelsons x Reader, Hayley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: kidnapping, torture, blood, killing via neck-snapping and biting, blood sharing for health, lmk if there’s any others!

A/N:Implied short fem!reader, because i like the feeling of having a tall vamp gf

*not my gif*

Rebekah marvelled at the way the sun’s rays bounced off the blush of your cheeks. Your eyes were closed, soaking in the warm afternoon rays as you sat upon the flatter part of the roof of your house. Your forever-loving girlfriend looked down at the picnic you had planned out, not taking long in her favourite task as she rained pretend sparkles over each delicacy in front of her to choose your poison.

She picked up one of your chocolate-covered strawberries you’d blushingly admitted to spending the morning on, pressing it gently to the line between your closed lips. You let her in, closing your lips and taking a small bite of the sweet fruit.

Rebekah smirked as she finished off the rest of your strawberry, placing the leafy end into the lid of the container. “So, my little human… What have you planned for us tonight?”

You smirked and moved closer to her, pressing your forehead to hers as a short chuff of laughter shot out your nose. “Carnival?”

Rebekah’s eyes closed as she groaned. “Must we really? All those sweaty boys trying to impress girls, horny teenagers making out anywhere they can find. Ugh, makes me sick.”

You lifted your hand to her cheek, pushing a few loose strands of stunningly blonde hair out of your way to hold her softly. “If anything, those horny teenagers will be out of sight and the only one that those boys will be trying to impress is you, sweets.”

Rebekah sighed and kissed you gently, knowing from previous experiences that she could easily break your nose if she was feverish enough. “You are beautiful, angel. I will never understand why you think not.”

You sighed too, letting her pull you in closer to listen to the sound of her undead heart thump away. She cradled you for a moment before she pulled your eyes back up to hers. “If you really want to go, we can go.”

“Yes!” You cheered, your excitement making you almost slip down the roof on a mossy tile.

Rebekah caught you by a hand around your waist and she chuckled at your antics, pulling you back up very easily. “But I have a condition.”

“Aw…” You groaned, your bitten bottom lip telling her that you meant no malice.

“I know, I’m such a bad girlfriend.” She rolled her eyes.

But then her smile grew thin, a worried frown creasing her eyebrows as her thumb brushed just below your bottom lip, releasing it from its confines of your simple human teeth. “I want you wearing a tracker ring. I’ll have Freya cook it up or something, but I’m not losing you.”

You sighed, slightly annoyed that she brought this up again. “Bekah, for the last time, you can’t lose me. Mystic Falls isn’t that big. You could probably smell me from the opposite side of the mountain.”

Rebekah hesitated on arguing about it more. She wasn’t sure why she had asked it in the first place; maybe it was a mindless thought, pulled from the cauldron in which anxiety and her past had mixed a foul concoction of paranoia. But she knew it was making you annoyed, so she dropped it once again.

“Of course. Am I picking you up?” She asked, her hand falling to rest on your thigh as her thumb tickled the skin beneath your jeans.

You nodded, glad that she had dropped the subject. “How’s 6?”

She smiled. “It’s a date.”

———————————▽▽——————————

You stood on your front porch and smiled at the sight of Rebekah as she turned onto your street, standing up to greet her at the gate. She kissed you gently as you leaned on your gate, to which you soon opened and took her hand before she guided you to the car and sped to the carnival.

As soon as you got out though, you were whisked away in a blur, only recognising Rebekah’s smirk as the world returned to normal speed.

“Bekah!” You hissed, shocked that she would use her vamp speed so blatantly.

“What?” She teased, leading you out of the shadows between two vans so as to start your carnival date.

You played plenty of games, with Rebekah’s only wish being that she paid for them, and you eyed her every time she handed over the set of bills required. Fishing was not your strong suit, but to Rebekah’s surprise, you managed to get a prize at the Balloon Pop.

“So?” You turned to her, the host of the balloon game currently blowing up some replacements.

“So what?” She asked, confused.

“Pick one!”

She looked startled at your excitement, but you curled around her body and lifted her chin, letting her eyes fall onto the grand prize section. She eyed all of the toys, from Disney characters like Stitch to Pokemon like Pikachu.

“Well, my humble nerd… Close your eyes.” She hummed, keeping her hand over your eyes as well as she pointed to the one she wanted.

The host grabbed it and offered it to her, but spun and placed the stuffed toy in your hands, making your eyes open in excitement. “Squirtle!”

She giggled at your immediate cuddle for the Pokemon. “I know that Squirtle’s always been your favourite starter.”

You faked a tear. “You know the starters?”

She nodded and came closer to you, pulling the 24 inch plush away from your chest so she could get even closer. “Why don’t you go and put this in the car? Maybe buckle Squirtle into the back seat?”

“But she doesn’t have a car seat.” You whined, making Rebekah scoff playfully.

“Go, Y/N.”

“I’ll meet you by the food stalls.” You grinned as she transferred her keys into your pocket, giving you a kiss on the cheek as you dawdled off to the car.

Rebekah kept herself busy as she looped around the food stalls, waiting for your presence to calm her paranoia. She admired the Greek tzatziki, Thai curries, German sausages, Italian gelato and the ever-cooking feast that was the special Mystic Falls stall, but a chill passed over her shoulder as she looked to see who was working there.

When her eyes met his, the dark tone of his skin matching his equally dark brown eyes and evil soul, anger built in her. She guessed he noticed too, since he dipped out the back of the tent and came to her calmly.

“Marcel.” She growled.

“Rebekah. So lovely to see you again.” He jeered, completely faking the nicety.

With a quick glance around them, she whipped him into the same dark corner behind the two vans and held her hand over his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t you know? We’re celebrating! Proud to be from Mystic Falls, ya da ya da ya. All that sentimental bullshit.” He chuckled, a tone to his voice that the blonde didn’t like.

“Say… where is that stunning little gremlin you call your girlfriend? Isn’t she fond of these activities?”

Rebekah ever so slightly loosened her grip on him. “By the car. Putting away her Squirtle that she rightfully earned.”

“I thought it was yours.” He raised an eyebrow.

“And are you sure she went to the car?”

The veins beneath her eyes turned black, her sclera shifting to a blood red hue. “What did you do?”

Marcel chuckled once more as Rebekah futilely shoved him against the fencing. “Had to get a few hunters off of my back. That Alaric sure knows how to get information.”

“No…” Rebekah muttered, controlling the tremble of her legs to a minimum.

“But we all know how stubborn that little bitch is. Maybe he can finally meet his match! Or maybe… she will meet hers.”

Marcel darted out of view before Rebekah could follow him, her eyes tearing up as her veins and sclera returned to normal. She fell to the ground, smashing the bones of her hand into thousands of pieces as her anger filtered out.

Because nothing could compare to the thought of losing you forever.

———————————▽▽——————————

When you woke up, you were a little bit dizzy. A pain came from the back of your head, but when you tried to touch it, you noticed your hand was locked in a leather strap. You looked down to see your other hand and your ankles in the same position, a thicker belt tied around your waist.

“Well, good morning, sunshine!” A male voice brought your head up, but you couldn’t quite make out his face in the dark.

“Y-You’re not Bekah. That’s her name for me, not yours.” You spat, already angry at this silhouette.

“Well, I can see why Marcel calls you a gremlin. So much anger and spite!” The voice laughed, echoing around you in an almost mocking tone.

“Where’s Bekah? What’re you gonna do to her?!” You thrashed around in your restraints, your mind hopelessly thinking that they were coming loose.

“When I find her - and I will, thanks to you - I will do so many wonderful things to her.”

The voice came closer and you could make out the recognisable chin, your eyes slowly rising to meet your former teacher’s.

“Alaric.” You growled, spitting in his face quickly.

He simply growled louder, deeper, and much more dominant than you could ever muster. “You’re gonna regret that, you little shit.”

He gripped you by the chin, bruisingly so, and threw your head back. You held in your wince at the reverse whiplash, staring him down even as he pulled out a satchel from the corner.

“I was hoping you’d co-operate a little bit before we got to the nitty-gritty stuff… but then again, you never were good at listening in class.” He shrugged, cocking his crossbow before it fired an arrow into your leg.

You screamed out initially, and whilst it probably would have felt better to continue, you cut it short to breathe through the pain. Another hit your other thigh, and you were glad he hadn’t gone for your artery.

“Now…” He knelt down in front of your hunched over body.

“Where is Rebekah Mikaelson?”

———————————▽▽——————————

Rebekah paced inside of the Mikaelson house, with Klaus, Hayley, Elijah and Freya debating a plan.

She should have encouraged the ring idea. She knew you were stubborn, she knew you hated being tracked, but this was why she wanted it. She wanted you safe, because you were a human. You didn’t have accelerated healing, you didn’t have the power she had, and even if she wanted to give it to you, she wasn’t sure she could.

“Rebekah, stop pacing for five minutes!” Klaus’ voice pulled her out of her pacing trance.

“Niklaus…” Freya warned him, looking at Rebekah’s flickering eyes.

Your girlfriend sank onto the couch next to Hayley, the hybrid’s arms going over her shoulder in a comforting manner. “We’ll find her, Bex. We will.”

“And what if we don’t?” She shot back, apologising softly afterwards.

“What did Marcel say to you? Tell us exactly.” Elijah asked her.

Rebekah took a deep breath. This was for you - she had to be strong for you… at least until you were back in her arms. “He said he needed to get a few hunters off of his back. Maybe he cut a deal with Alaric - protection for a way to get to the Mikaelsons.”

Klaus and Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed before they retreated into a private room, leaving Rebekah with Freya and Hayley.

“Did you want me to conjure that tracking ring if you get her back?” Freya asked quietly, but Hayley’s eyes shot up.

“When, Freya, when. Not if.”

The bob-haired girl nodded and hugged Rebekah tightly, the vampire returning it just a tad tighter. “I miss her. It’s been three hours and I miss her already.”

The two girls chuckled lovingly, and Hayley spoke again. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Letting her go out into the dangerous state of this world without any sort of protection except for you.”

“To be honest, little sister, I am surprised you decided to date her. I mean, who would have ever thought that you would pick the shy nerd in a crowd full of jocks and cheerleaders?” Freya commented.

Rebekah smiled softly, looking over at the Squirtle she had brought in from the car. She quickly grabbed it and tucked it tight against her, almost burying her nose in it to try and get some sort of scent of you.

“She was kind to me on our first day of meeting. I asked her where my Maths class was and she led me all the way there, even though her class was on the other side of the school.” She reminisced, a tear forming from the fond core memory.

Freya was about to speak highly of you again before Klaus and Elijah burst through the door, a winning smile on both of their changed faces.

“We found her.”

———————————▽▽——————————

All five of them stood outside of the strange warehouse; rusted corners, bullet and arrow holes everywhere throughout the metal plating.

“Can anybody hear her?” Rebekah asked.

They all shook their heads, even as Hayley and Klaus turned to their wolf forms.

“Rebekah.”

She turned at the sound of Elijah’s voice, his calm nature giving her a smile. “I hear Alaric’s heart.”

She turned back to eye the front door around the corner, and as soon as she heard his heart too, her mind was set on nothing else but ripping it out.

With Freya standing guard and as a getaway defence, the other four sped in and began their massacre. Rebekah was snapping any neck with the mark of a hunter or a gun, whilst Hayley, Klaus and Elijah worked on the vampire guards, the fatal bite of the two hybrids spreading like wildfire.

Rebekah found a hidden door and broke through it, following the scent of blood until she recognised yours.

A loud wail matched it.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” She snarled, the guard’s heart now in her hand before it slid off and onto the hay-filled floor.

There you sat, strapped in tightly like an animal. The tight bindings around your wrists and ankles had cut into your skin from all of your thrashing, blood seeping from almost everywhere but your chest, neck and head. Bruises littered your visible skin through torn clothes, a particularly dark purple one surrounding your neck. Cuts were everywhere, some as knife skins and others as deep, purposeful stabs.

One thing that Rebekah knew rang out in her mind - if she hadn’t come now, you would’ve been dead by morning.

“Y/N! Y/N, please, sunshine, look at me.” She knelt in front of you, your tired eyes only half-open.

“Bekah?” You mumbled.

She smiled tearily. “I’m right here, baby. I’m right here, and I’m gonna get you out, okay?”

You nodded and felt no difference in pain as she unbound you - in fact, the cold sting of the night air from the grate above you made it slightly worse, a hiss coming from you as she swept you into her arms.

“I know it hurts, sunshine, but we’ll be out of here soon enough. Hayley! Nik!” She called out into the hallway, the fast wolves appearing in a few seconds.

You looked down at the sight of the two wolves, a small but pained smile appearing on your lips. “H-Hi, Hayley. Hi, Kl-Klaus.”

They both nodded at you and checked behind Rebekah to see no possibility for someone to sneak up on you. Rebekah walked you out of the bloodbath to meet Freya, the witch shocked at your appearance and immediately got a blanket from the car to wrap around you.

“Here.” She handed her little sister a small ring - a tracker ring.

She looked down at your frail form but shook her head when she looked at your hands; bloodied and beaten, just like the rest of you. She thought of dealing with it when she got home, but the sight of the shiny ring caught your eye.

“B-Bekah…” You murmured, the vampire not caring that your blood was now soaking her jacket.

“Yes, my dear?” She replied, guiding you into the car as Elijah, Klaus and Hayley finished off their enemies.

“Please…” You gestured to the ring, moving your shaking hand towards it.

“No.” She pocketed the ring and held you close, keeping your ear against her chest.

“Drive, Freya.”

———————————▽▽——————————

When you woke up you were surprised you were alive, to say the least. Everything hurt; every muscle movement, every tendon jolt, every beat of your heart.

And that heart was the reason why your lover lay next to you, her eyes observing your rising wakeness closely. You winced as you tried to get comfortable, but Rebekah shushed you lightly.

“Don’t move, princess. It’ll hurt you even more than what he did to you.”

“Bekah. You’re okay.” You sighed in relief, wanting to wrap her up in your arms.

“Of course I’m okay. I’m a Mikaelson.” She chuckled, making you do the same but you winced as a slight but extremely painful pressure hit your chest.

“Don’t… Don’t make me laugh.” You breathed out slowly, watching her eyes tear up.

“Please let me heal you. I promise, I won’t let anybody touch you for 24 hours. No sudden deaths, not turning into vampires, just…” She shakily trailed off, almost looking ready to break down.

You didn’t answer.

But you opened your mouth.

She instantly received your message and bit into her wrist, blood pouring from the wound that she pressed against your lips. You didn’t drink, simply letting it drain into your mouth, and you swallowed three times before the wound closed.

“More, Y/N. You need more.” She whimpered, going to bite herself again but you took her hand.

“Just be with me. It’s more than enough.” You muttered, letting your emotionally expressive vampire collapse next to you and cry through her sheets.

You didn’t shush her, you didn’t tell her to stop crying - you let her let it out, all whilst you held her as tightly as you could with broken… everything. She suddenly sat up and pushed herself towards you, colliding your lips together in a harsh but necessary display of affection.

“Bekah… Bekah- ah!” You hissed as she pressed on a wound around your wrist, instantly pulling away from you.

She stopped and you could see how little colour was in her face. “You haven’t fed.”

She shook her head. “Not since you fell asleep.”

“How long was I out?” You asked.

She didn’t answer, keeping her eyes away from you.

“Rebekah…” You warned her.

“Two weeks.” She meekly answered.

“Two weeks- Bekah, you’re going to desiccate!” You fretted, sitting up painfully as you brought her closer to you.

“Feed, now.”

“But-”

“I don’t care! Feed!” You barked.

She sighed, kissing you along the neck before she gently bit into your skin. Your blood was sweeter than most she had come across, and she didn’t know if it was because of your romantic relationship or if it was just you.

You felt her pull away after a few seconds but you gave her an ‘uh-uh’ in that same warning tone, which made her continue. When she finally pulled herself out of your weak grip, she looked almost brand new and she slowly wiped off the blood on her face.

“Thank you. I… I had no bags left.” She muttered, looking down as she played with her fingers.

“Bekah. Look at me.” You spoke gently, waiting for her eyes to meet yours.

“Hi, my beautiful girl.”

She keened at your description and moved closer at your invitation, holding you against her chest as she looked down at your smaller form.

“Please don’t ever, ever, do that again. I love you, Rebekah Mikaelson, but you need to put your health first if I’m ever gone for that long.” You slowly tickled her thigh as it came over your hips.

“Okay.” She answered, kissing your forehead.

“Now, how long until I am better?” You asked, looking up at her with a tired expression.

“I will feed you every now and then with my blood, and lots of water will be coming your way, but with those two bases covered, I can’t imagine any more than a week.” She replied, distracted by running her fingers through your hair.

You pressed into her hand and she sighed contently, but your hands around her waist showed your mind was focused. You found the ring from two weeks ago and you overlooked the beautiful shape - a single emerald held in an old crest.

“Very Mikaelson-like.” You chided, making Rebekah chuckle as she held your hand ever so gently; simply letting it rest there.

“Of course. Have you seen Elijah and Klaus’ daylight rings?” She smirked.

“Those are too chunky for me. But they do look good on them.” You commented.

She nodded and brought her lips to yours, slipping the ring onto your right ring finger. You sighed into her before a yawn came out of nowhere, ripping through the silence to make Rebekah giggle.

“Come on, sunshine - time to get some more beauty sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at her but let her hold you like always, a hand curled over your waist and around your ring-held hand as she quietly hummed a lullaby. You felt your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, only for you to finally fall asleep.

Rebekah looked up at Freya in the shadows as her hands finally fell to her side, an exchange of smiles between them as the eldest left the youngest to dot on you and, eventually, fall asleep too.

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