#tempbow fics

Henry had been thinking about this the moment you left the apartment this morning; standing in front of him and beckoning him over the moment you stepped through the doorframe.

Henry tended to forget he wasn't always allowed outside in the morning. It wasn't that he was forgetful, he just never cared about his wellbeing enough to protect himself from the harmful UVs that could kill him in an instant. So, when he'd walked all the way down there and stepped out, and his skin started to sizzle, he'd had half the mind to just see how far he could get until death.

Maybe he would've timed it.

But you managed to snatch him inside before he could ever get far. Henry didn't have many places to go. You knew exactly where he was at all times or where he'd be headed because he never went off route--not like that had mattered, because you caught up to him after hearing the front door slam.

You scolded him, over and over in a harsh whisper, "What were you even thinking? How many times do we have this conversation? You expect me to let you wander around?"

Henry took it with open ears, despite a sickened rage that came over him from being treated like a child. But he quietly understood you were just as afraid of this as he was. It never did feel real.

So, when you came home, it was part punishment and part relief that he wasn't choosing suicide.

Henry took just a few strides over to you, head slightly bowed. The apartment was hot boxed from his cigarettes. He hadn't even bothered to open a window.

"You just insist on being obnoxious today," you mumbled to him, glared at his sulking face that seemed much more pale today.

He hadn't fed on anything in a while, and the meat you got him from the butchers only could do so much, and you could also only afford so much. What else were you even supposed to do? Go to the butchers and ask for a cup of blood like you were at a bar?

None of that really mattered when Henry had a craving for human blood anyways. You two had an argument not too far back he wasn't allowed to drink from anyone else besides you. It seemed like now maybe was a good time.

Henry chuckled despite himself, mocking and glancing around like anyone else would see your antics.

"I'm entertaining you," Henry said, trying to press against you so that you were chest to chest, "You were complaining how restless work has been making you, don't you want a change of pace?"

It was a lame excuse for his incompetence, it was a lame excuse for doing dumb shit just because you were so jaded as of recent.

You pushed him back a little, glaring at him. He was just being such an ass.

You wouldn't let him get away with that.

"Couch, now." You demanded, and Henry looked between you and the leathered beast in the middle of the living area.

"And if I don't?" He asked.

"I'm not afraid to get handsy."

"Handsy, how?"

And you proved it with a sharp slap against his face. He grunted, not because it necessarily hurt or shocked him, he was trying too hard to tease, but because it made his heart pound in a way that it hadn't in too long. He'd had no thrill recently, neither have you. He wanted this.

Henry suddenly felt sheepish, and his fingers brushed the area you'd slapped and looked down at the wooden flooring beneath his feet.

Your arms crossed over your chest, "Am I going to have to tell you again?"

Henry shook his head and moved to scramble onto the couch.

You followed with a brisk walk behind him, and Henry was already sat back and looking up at you with a quivering lip. It was because he was hungry, trying not to lunge straight for your neck or wrists. He could feel his stomach churning in pain, eating at itself. He knew he couldn't die of starvation, but he still had to writhe around in the discomfort for a while until you said he could drink.

Henry watched as you straddled him at his hips, your fingers reaching out and running through unwashed hair as he watched more how your hips moved than anything. You had to force his eyes up, otherwise he wouldn't have looked at you directly through his embarrassment. To do so, you tugged on his hair to send his head flying back, and he hissed at how his scalp protested.

"Are you choosing silence now?" You ask him and he pitifully nods. You couldn't help but laugh at the way his brows were furrowed and he had a set frown on his lips. He wanted to talk back so badly, but he was so lawfully trained otherwise.

"This doesn't mean I don't want to hear your beautiful noises, Henry," you say much softer as you started to roll your hips forward. Henry's breath hitched, so abruptly his shoulders heaved slightly. He groaned quietly, and it shuddered into a whimper. His lips pressed together, and his dark eyes studied how your neck looked under dim light.

"Need... your neck..." he murmured, his hands reaching up and adjusted how you sat. You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head at him.

"Not yet," you responded, "I don't want you to suck me dry before we do anything."

A particular deep roll made Henry moan a bit louder, and he couldn't help the hum that followed that almost was like a whine. Henry knew you wouldn't deny him long, but he really needed it, he wanted it. Need and want were starting to blend together into one for him. His hands trailed down again, holding the back of you thighs up to give you more leverage.

His fingers pressed into your clothed skin, and he imagined spreading you open across the bed and sucking you dry there, using his fangs on your pussy to make you cry and beg for more. But it was only fantasy, he knew that would hurt, damage something, even. He didn't want to hurt you.

He felt himself already starting to tremble, how his legs felt so restless as he felt his cock grow hard in his pants, which is what you wanted as you felt the moisture build in your panties. You hum at him, leaning forward and pressing your lips against his.

His fangs were already out, tiny little things but sharp as hell. As soon as your tongue entered his mouth, he bit down a bit and let blood connect you two through something deeper than just spit. The sore that came afterwards was always a pain in the ass, but that was nothing that wouldn't heal. This would last way longer.

You started to pull away, kissing at his face and then his neck, biting down in a way that mimicked Henry. It never actually drew blood unfortunately, though, you always wanted to see what the fuss about blood was about. Henry never wanted to turn you unless you were 100% sure, no "maybe's" or "we could's".

Henry tensed at the bite, letting out a tiny "ah" from the pressure. It made his head spin as he closed his eyes to fully engulf himself in pleasure. Your lips didn't reach much further down than his shoulder, but he didn't mind it since he knew what he was getting.

Then, all touched disappeared when you got up, and Henry growled in frustration like a rapid animal.

"Why?" He asked, "Why, why, why..."

"Stop whining so much, I barely did anything to you. Do you want to keep your clothes on?" You scolded, and Henry stamped his foot against the floor as he watched you.

Your fingers were hooked on the waistband of your pants, but last moment, you thought against it. Raising a brow, you fingers fell away.

"Actually... it might actually be too good for you." You murmur.

Henry blinked.

"What?"

He didn't even have time to react further before you pounced on him again, but this time, your arms snaked around his neck tightly, forcing his head to duck down against your chest, where your rapidly beating heart was louder to him than anything else. He could hear your heartbeat from miles away if he focused on it, and right now, it sounded like bass headphones turned all the way up.

He grunted as you shifted, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer like you two could merge into one.

When your hips started to roll again, Henry couldn't help but just loosen up. This was his punishment, not being able to fully feel you, but that didn't matter to him, not really. Just being able to smell you, something so tangy yet so sweet, was enough to get him to cum. He let out dainty little moans against your chest, his legs trying to close together on instinct.

Your breaths came heavier, your movements becoming more erratic. It was harder to try to cum with your clothes still on, but the pressure of Henry's straining cock was doing wonders to your neglected vulva. You could still taste your own blood on your lips, swallowing it down as you stared down at Henry.

"You wanna cum like this?" You ask him like he was suddenly delicate, "Yeah, you do, huh?"

Henry tried to get something out, but it was all built up in his chest and he let out a desperate mewl. His stomach churned more at the look of blood on your lips and on your tongue. He wanted a taste.

"Blood... please..."

You shook your head, "Cum for me first."

Henry went suddenly very quiet, before a loud cry tore from his chest. You could see how the fronts of his pants got dark and wet, and you knew he was done.

You didn't stop grinding yourself against Henry, you felt like you were close too, but you denied yourself of it at first when you tapped you fingers against your neck as the go ahead. You leaned down next to Henry's ear and whispered, "Not all the way, we're not done yet."

But Henry was already diving into you. His fangs made contact and sunk into your neck, and that made you moan right into his ear. You hips didn't stop, which made Henry feel like he was about to cum again as he sucked all of what he could from you.

You tasted so sweet. He'd only tasted human blood from one other lousy victim, and it hadn't been twice as good as this. It had this lingering metallic taste, and it coated his entire mouth and throat. It filled all of his senses, and it was going straight to his brain again.

You panted, "I'm gonna cum, Henry... don't stop."

Henry didn't need the encouragement, because just as you said that, another orgasm stimulated his senses and he whimpered right into you, which in turn, made you finally cum and soak your panties.

His brain was all fuzzy, and he eventually stopped sucking on you, but he didn't pull his fangs out. He kept them there, his body trembling from a layered orgasm as he tried to regain composure.

Once you'd ridden out your pleasure, your hips slowed and you tapped Henry's shoulder to signal him to let go, and he did with a deep breath like he'd been drowning in you.

His eyes were all glossy, and he had blood smeared all across his lips and cheeks. His pupils were blown wide as his chest heaved. He looked much less pale now, color coming back to his face. Henry felt his stomach churning less, satisfied from briefly being fed.

"M'sorry..." he whispered, and you shook your head as you cupped his face.

"It's okay, it's not your fault. You just need to learn."

You pressed a few kisses to his face first, avoiding your blood before you decided to face your fears and lick some of his off of him. It didn't taste good to you at all, but when it was on Henry, it was like drinking a fun cocktail.

You pulled away finally and sighed, "Do you have one more in you?"

Henry raised his hand and pointed one finger up.

"One more," he said, his voice all rough

You smile, "Lay down then."

A = Aftercare

It would very much vary on how he felt afterwards, or just how the day went in general. If he had been having a bad day, and fucked you because he needed to blow off some steam, he might not be in the right headspace to take care of you afterwards. But if you both had taken the time to have real sex, there would definitely be some cigarette sharing and cuddling afterwards.

B = Body Part (Which body part is their favorite)

I think Henry would really be into your hands. How they touched him or moved him around if it was your turn to be in control. He'd imagine them almost strictly if jerking off--imagining how yours would stroke him, thumb over his tip and run over every little vein you could see--and he'd probably draw and paint them too as warmups before actually starting a piece.

I think he'd also just be into thighs and ass, just studying how you move through an artist lense and try to find ways to commit everything to memory and project your novement into his work.

Though, he's into your entire body. He'd paint and draw you any day of the week if he was giving the liberty to.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

Henry would sooo be into cum. Wake up and eat it!!!

I remember reading a fic where he used his own to paint, and absofuckinglutely he would. His own or yours, he'd use it to make everything more clear-coated.

Whenever he tonguefucks you, because he would, he'd lap up whatever he could from you as you try to recover from the aftershocks, tongue running teasingly over your clit so you'd spill more and more.

He would be completely turned on when you do the same; deepthroating him and swallowing down all his seed. Though, if you didn't want to do that, he'd settle for his cum running from your hands so he could help lick it up for you.

Henry would probably also like seeing your stomach painted with it if he had to pull out, painting you like a canvas. If allowed, seeing it leak out of you is even better.

D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret, obviously)

Henry would probably be into filming, but would never bring it up unless you did. Just the thought of having a camera specifically for sex makes him so hard, having a camera in his face or recording yours for his own personal use... HOTTT.

He'd probably try to secretly film you, but would feel too bad and maybe even get rid of the camera. Henry wouldn't be able to control himself.

I also think he'd have a stalking problem. Like, even before you started dating, he'd create these routines for you in his head and unintentionally follow you about or remember where you work and what your schedule was like.

If you were in his uni class, he'd find himself following you around campus to see if you'd walk into any other classes or clubs. He'd write it down or paint it, maybe even take pictures for his own benefit, hence his fantasy of cameras because that's what he's used to before you two started dating.

Even when you do start dating, you'd probably notice him from a distance and have to walk up to him to ask why he wasn't in class.

E = Experience

Henry would probably have almost next to nothing when it comes to pleasuring you, but he'd eventually learn things like how to eat you out and finger you.

He'd know a lot of the basics from past partners, but it would never get much further than just simple missionary shit. Then you came along and he was able to experiment a lot more, with his sexual desires and express his weirdness, even when he was still a nervous wreck doing it.

F = Favorite Position

Probably missionary, but he doesn't mind a reverse cowgirl at all either.

Also, anything that has to do with having your legs over his shoulders so he can maneuver himself into you more. Henry likes to stretch you out, what can I say.

He also likes just the normal cowgirl where you're straddling him. Ride cowgirl.

Stretching you open too much kind of freaks him out since he hasn't actually seen it outside of artwork possibly.

G = Goofy (Are they humorous in the moment? Do they make jokes?)

Henry is more generally a serious person in general, and that doesn't change much outside of the bedroom, but I think he's open for playful teasing if you're getting romantic and not just fucking.

Otherwise, I'd say he locks in.

H = Hair (How are they groomed? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

Honest to God, this man probably has some jungle going on, at the least, it's tamed to be a little bit more groomed only for you. But assuming he doesn't take care of himself, it's probably remains how it is is naturally.

I = Intimacy (How they in the moment through a romantic aspect?)

Again, it depends how his day went and how yours was as well. If he gets home in a bad mood, there isn't much of a chance of it being too romantic. He'd just go down on you and call it a night, or even go back to something else afterwards like painting or studying.

But on days where you're both free and just talking, there's probably moments where he touches you, and you touch him, and then it leads into making out and your hands are running across his chest and he can't resist you.

Maybe paint is getting all over your clothes if you come home from a long day and he feels like you need someone you carry you through.

When he gets romantic, it's great. Then, he doesn't mind doing anything you want him to do to you.

J = Jerk Off (masturbation headcannon)

Henry jerks off a lot more than you might think he does. He'd be the kind of guy to do it in a public restroom, covering his mouth with his palm to keep himself quiet. In the shower, on his bed, on your bed, anywhere. Although he's not confident enough to do it in front of people, that doesn't exactly mean he won't do it in a public area.

K = Kinks

WAX PLAY.

The idea of pouring wax onto your skin and letting it drip down your back or tights or stomach just gets him so hard.

Maybe something with paint too? Body paint while naked? Not really a kink, I don't think, but it's important to me.

Again, maybe bringing up filming again, even if he doesn't actively indulge in it.

Semi-public/public sex, too. He likes the idea of pinning you against a wall in an alley, or even on the fire escape of your apartment complex.

Pain at a minimum when it comes to you, but Henry wants everything.

L = Location (Where is their favorite place to do it?)

Public spaces where there are risks of being caught, but also not really; bathrooms, back of movie theaters, work spaces in the university library.

Also, just in your bed. He never would have sex with you in his danky old apartment, just because he thought you didn't deserve that. He'd much rather have you somewhere more comfortable like your own bed or couch.

M = Motivation (What turns them on and gets them going?)

Your talents or hobbies. He loves watching you be just as interested in things the way he's able to be. Hearing you talk about your interests and being so passionate. It makes his heart squeeze so harshly.

Also you helping him through rough patches. You're always his pick me up, someone who lends him a hand whenever he's so close to the edge. He thinks about it all the time, your soft, comforting words as he's jerking off and can't help but whimper into his own hand.

N = NO (Something they won't do, turn offs)

Anything that actually could harm you. He's not afraid of harming himself, but when it comes to you it's a big no.

Also, he's not great at pushing limits. If he's comfortable with something, it might be a bit hard to convince him of something new.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Henry loves it.

Loves your mouth and hands.

He can give it pretty well too if you help guide him a little bit. His tongue is able to be so gentle against your clit or cock (for the boys) that it makes you cum quickly.

P = Pace (Are they fast, slow, stamina, etc)

Depending on how feels, he can be as fast as you want. His hips can drive into you with forces you'd never expect him to have, or he can be as slow and gentle as he can so that you're begging for him to go fast again.

Though, I dont think he can really recover all that fast. He needs time to adjust, and his body is just overly sensitive so he might not be able to touch anything that much after maybe cumming twice?

Q = Quickies (Their opinion on them? How often?)

DEPENDING ON THE DAY........ i think he would like them.

Like between classes where he knows he'll barely get to see you, maybe he calls you up when you're on your break or it's a passing time when he needs to get to class in just 30 minutes. I think Henry would just love you talking him through it over the phone.

But a lot of the time, he rather you guys just be at home so you can take your time on him, or his time on you.

R = Risk (Will they experiment? Do they take risks?)

He'll take risks when you're out in public, he doesn't care about that, but experimenting is tricky for him. He doesn't want to go too far, because if he does, he won't be able to go back. He has to be absolutely sure of himself, which is hard already in daily life.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

I mentioned this earlier, but it fits here too obviously, I dont think he can last longer than 2 rounds sometimes. His body is possibly already weak, so if he's done he's done.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them?)

I feel like he'd be too paranoid to own them until he met you. If you own a toy pre-dating and tell him about it, he'd be up to talking about it and trying to experiment it on you. It would take him a while to do anything to himself. He only really wants you anyways.

U = Unfair (How much do they like to tease?)

Ehhh, this can very. He doesn't mind foreplay, but he's definitely used to getting straight to the point and you shoving him around. He doesn't mind a bit of denial of touch and orgasms, but he will genuinely cry at some point for you to just get it over with.

He won't tease you much unless you tease him... or if you're in a bad mood he'll do it on purpose so you can slap him around.

V = Volume (How loud he is? What kind of noises does he make?)

He can get LOUD. But most of the time, he's letting out dainty little whimpers or moans. I wouldn't put growling past him either.

W = Wild Card

I think it would just be really funny if during sex, he'll just stop to light a cigarette because he can't help himself but do two things he's addicted to at once. He blows the smoke in your face too, or if you're on top, he wants you to take hits from it too.

Also, I have my own personal Henry headcannon where he has synesthesia! Imagine how that would be.

X = X-Ray (What's under the clothes?)

I don't think Henry is actually packing that much, despite popular belief. He's either just below average or just average, period. But he's still able to manage hitting most spots in you because of how close he'd be able to bring his hips to yours.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Henry could do anything any day of the week, any time you'd like it, especially when you first started dating. In the beginning tends to get hard really quickly over small things and has rub one off just to move on, and he doesn't really mind when he's with you because you reassure him it's okay, but that just fuels him more.

After a while though, his body gets more desensitized to certain things so he isn't getting blue balls right after touching you.

Z = Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep afterwards?)

Henry stood in the shower long enough for the steam to cloud his vision. Truly, this was the only time he allowed himself to sit alone in his thoughts too long, but what else was he supposed to do when the only thing staring back at him were the off-white porcelain tiles?

The downpour of water caused dull colors to formulate in his brain, basic shapes boxing him into to a single emotion. Henry sighed, wishing this would relieve the stress of being out today.

Though, he thought about you, too. He'd thought about you all day, actually; while picking at the scabs on his skin during classes when they drawled on too long, or when he was on the train back to his apartment where nothing waited for him like you did. His heart ached, a bottomless pit in his stomach. He whined quietly, head plastered back against a particular tile, his hands gripping at his sides, eyes closed as he tried to imagine you.

He didn't know what he missed more. Your skin on his? Your lips when they pressed against his ear? When you touched him like he was real? He felt the way his fingers trembled, running up to his arms again and freshly wet scabs and cuts waited.

Henry knew he shouldn't. You'd spent so much time trying to find ways to get him to stop, but it was harming his brain too from holding back.

His fingers picked at them absently, causing light pain, but enough to send a jolt of feeling across his forearm. He swallowed down noise like anyone could hear it. They wouldn't. Couldn't. Henry glanced down, eyes focused on a piece of loose skin as a jagged nail pinched to tug it off.

Since Henry had been with you, he hadn't harmed himself the typical way. Not razors, or cigarette burns. Instead, whenever he craved a cigarette or a bit of pain, he went to you--hoping you'd bite down on his neck or shoulders hard enough to ease the thoughts--or when you weren't with him, he'd pick at healing wounds like it would fix anything. All it did was make you upset, but in the end, you understood too.

And it made him hard. His eyes closed, just breathing in the moisture. Henry wanted it to be your teeth peeling back newly formed skin or licking the warm blood. He wished you were here, so you could tell him to stop. Stop. Stop. His brain called for him to stop. But he knew he had been doing it too long for him to stop.

One slit made him hiss. His eyes widened a bit, covering it with a palm before lifting it. Harsh flourishes of red blurred his mind. His hands shook as he watched the blood, just as red as the color his brain came up with. God, he'd gone overboard again.

He stood back fully underneath the water, and a burning sensation came over each open cut. His face scrunched, just acknowledging pain but never pushing any of his limits. He didn't pull away from it, however. He wanted more. He took it. More more more...

His greed was getting to his head, his stomach started to tense. It churned under the weight of "more," his legs suddenly feeling so much weaker. Henry could feel his mind circulating with desire, and he saw you behind his eyes again every time he closed them. Disappointment, but a warmth as you rested your hands against his face, running down his chest and stopping just above his hips. Henry could hear your voice, so many colors bloomed from it, odd shapes pulsing when your hands moved and just massaged their place into him.

Henry hadn't even realized his hand had snaked around his cock, or how he grinded against the shower wall slightly. He reached up and adjusted the showerhead to cast the water against his shoulder more, using it as somewhat lube as he started to stroke himself, but it was short lived when he started to leak from a blushed tip. He was slightly curled into himself, keeping himself standing with his forearm and weakly at his knees, shielding his face with it against the wall.

Henry let his mind continue. Your hands started to press deeper into his skin, and he felt invisible bruises form. You whispered nothing in particular as you knelt down in front of him, and his mind grew a bigger fantasy as you brought your hand to his cock and stroked him. He never wanted to open his eyes, knowing it was just what he wanted to see.

He let out something breathy, a tiny moan. Henry took a loud breath and held it as he increased his speed. His lips pressed together, but he shifted slightly so his forehead was pressing against the hot tile. His lips brushed the wall, then his tongue, and he whimpered.

His legs shook, and he let out a desperate cry. His other hand balled into a fist as he pumped himself a bit harder, tightening around his cock.

He wished it was your hands, touching him much softer than he was touching himself. He knew you'd want it slower, drag out every noise you could from someone so quiet. How you'd want yourself pleased at the same time. Henry breathed to himself, "I will, I will." He wished to. Henry wanted to.

God, he wanted to. He wished he could let his fingers brush against you as your breath hitched, put his mouth on you however you begged him to. Henry wished he could groan into your lips again and again so you knew how he truly felt.

Henry wished it was your mouth on him. Hot, wet, skilled. The shower only did so much to stimulate him; water as your spit, the steam your breath, his own hand playing your mouth and hand simultaneously--he couldnt make up his mind. He couldn't last long thinking like this.

He felt the sensation build through his head first, down his spine before reaching his cock and he moaned out loudly with a cry, grinding against the shower tiles and painting them before the water washed it away like it had done for the blood on his arms. Your voice soothed him, "so perfect, you did so well."

With shame, he blinked away his pleasure. The water was starting to turn cold. He turned off the water before pulling back the curtain and stepping out.

Henry got dressed in dirty clothes he never bothered to get washed at the cleaners, coming out of the bathroom and lied down on the single mattress on the floor.

He thought to himself again.

No more...

He then picked up his phone, and old thing he only ever really used relating to you.

And then called you.

"Hello?" You voice asked, and it was like a soothing balm over his heart.

Henry thought about what to say. Then, quietly, he answered.

"Can I come over?"